#but I am really enjoying the plot so far like yeah.. yeah. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yoongifis · 4 months ago

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💌 switching positions | myg

where the boy that you’ve got wrapped around your finger works his hardest to change his position from a somewhat friends-with-benefit to an official relationship with you. [and hes not the only one who will be switching positions ;)] *if you haven’t read ‘fxck a fxckboy’ yet, i suggest to read it before reading this! or don’t :p do as you wish!*

pairing: flirty/smartass!y/n x fuckboy!yoongi

; warnings: ass grabbing, ass slapping, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, cock warming, blowjobs, handjobs breastplay, usage of sex toys, masturbation, usage of mature words, some dirty talk, jealous yoongi

; genre: smut (18+), pwp

; wc: 11k (hooooly sheeeeiiit)

a/n: SHES FINALLY HERE AAAAHH!! a little continuation of fuckboy yoongi~ hehe! very very sorry it took me so long! i had this in the drafts for a while and was slowly building it throughout the year :v now i've gotten busy bc your girl got into nursing school :') don't get me wrong though, i'll do my best to put out some writings here and there bc i do enjoy doing this :p i also wanna say thank you so much for showing so much love to the original 'fxck a fxckboy' fic!! i didn't expect it to gain that much attention, so i was pretty hyped to see a lot of people enjoying it :D i really hope you guys enjoy this one <3 it's just a little somethin' to fulfill your fuckboy yoongi needs hehehe. fair warning though, this is literally pure smut with no sort of plot (call me a horny mofo lmfaoooo). please ignore my grammatical errors :') i'll fix them at some point when i am notttt lazy ! :p

“Yoongi, could you quit it? I’m trying to help you study for your exam!”

The two of you were in one of your university library’s study rooms—which included a whiteboard, a table, and a couple of chairs in a somewhat small amount of space. Out of all the seats that were around the table and the free space this room has to offer, he chose to stand right behind you, hands wrapped around your waist as his head rests on the back of your shoulder as you wrote things on the whiteboard.

He’s groaning out of boredom.

“But isn’t this supposed to be a date?”

You snort with a chuckle, “yeah—a study date.”

You went a couple more rounds on the day you first slept with each other (and damn did he go crazy). After that, you told him you didn’t want to fuck him without being “official” because it felt like you were one of his little flings. He respected that, and really held himself back (although he does manage to sneak some kisses from you here and there to get his daily dose of you). He became eager to get you to be his girlfriend, but like you said you wanted to go on dates before you can agree.

And that’s what he did.

He’s been making everything into a date. And so far, he’s taken you on plenty.

Work on assignments together at the school library? (study) Date.

Drive around town, enjoying the views as you guys talked? (car-ride) Date.

Watch a movie at his place with all the snacks he bought just for you? (movie night) Date.

How about the two of you make dinner together? (cooking) Date.

It was cute. Something you’d never expected from him. Did he always have this romantic, sweet, and cheesy side to him? You could tell he is trying to keep his promise—take you on a bunch of dates till you agree to be his girlfriend. It may seem a bit too much, but due to his past history you wanted to make him wait and work hard for the ‘boyfriend title’—which he was willing to do.

“Still a date,” he mumbles.

Yoongi’s squeezing you tightly, bringing his head to the crook of your neck, lips just slightly brushing against your skin.

“Yoongi, you’ve got to study. They’re not going to let you graduate if you don’t pass this class. This is what you get for always skipping.”

“I just don’t understand that calculus shit. And I can’t study when you’re around.”

“You don’t even like it when I’m not around—but it somehow has to be me that has to help you with studying.”

“Exactly.”

You’re chuckling again at how cute he was. How is it that he was one of the biggest fuckboys at your school and now he’s the biggest simp for you?

“How about we make a deal?”

He hums, “I’m listening.”

“Pass the class and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

His head shoots up. “Whatever I want?” He repeats.

“And I’ll stop your suffering and agree to be your girlfriend.”

It’s like a whole switch went off in his body; he was ready to get going.

“You don’t have to tell me twice, princess,” he’s removing his hold around you, finally taking a seat with a pencil in his hand and a paper in front of him as he looks at you, “if that’s all it’s going to take for me to be your boyfriend, I’ll do it.”

—

Of course, Yoongi left himself with only two days to study for his final exam. It may seem like not enough time, but one thing you learned about him is that he can get really determined to do something especially if he gets some type of reward from you.

He surprisingly locked himself in his room (according to Hoseok), and was trying to do things on his own. He also did not contact you at all that day—making that day the first time the two of you haven’t hung out or contacted each other since the day you both had that little confession session.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you were honestly missing Yoongi despite it only being a day. You’ve gotten so used to having him constantly around you that him not being right next to you felt so off.

These feelings must’ve been bothering you so much because now you’re at the front door of his apartment with an early dinner of take-out in your hand, waiting for Hoseok to open the door.

“He’s still in his room—the doors unlocked this time which is new. I would have loved to join you guys but I promised to go out with the other boys,” he pauses. “…I did ask Yoongi to join me but he told me to ‘get lost’, so—,” he grumbles under his breath as he makes his way around you.

You laugh at him.

“No worries, Hoseok. Just go have fun.”

The two of you switch places, with his hand still on the door handle as he’s about to head out.

“I should be saying that to you guys,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Yoongi’s right! Get lost already!!” You gently hit the side of his arm as he laughs at your reaction. “Don’t be so weird.”

“Who said it had to be those things? I never said that,” he laughs, but you roll your eyes at him. “Go out, watch a movie, or cook—whatever to get him up and out of his room. That guy isn’t even getting enough rest like usual and barely ate today and yesterday. I’ve literally never seen him like this before—he’s actually studying pretty hard for his exam.”

You’re thinking to yourself, giving him a little nod before he says his final goodbye and shuts the door.

God—Yoongi is really serious about this.

You knock before you enter, only to be faced with Yoongi at his desk, tons of loose paper scattered everywhere and crumpled ones on the floor. He didn’t even notice you until you said his name, his focus from the lecture playing on his laptop switched to you when he glanced over his shoulder.

“Babyy,” he mumbles lowly, a little smile on his mouth.

You’re walking towards him, expecting his eyes to stay on you but they don’t. He’s listening to whatever lecture he had on, scribbling down whatever. It kind of hurt a little. You were too used to having his attention all on you.

“Have you eaten? I brought some take out.”

All he does is shake his head, still focused on his work.

A small pout on your face appears, upset with how he was. You put the bag filled with food onto the floor, next to the drawers of his desk. You take a step closer to him, a hand immediately going to his head to run your fingers through his messy hair. You gently massage his scalp with the pads of your fingers, leaning over to take a look at his work. The only sound that could be heard between you two was the lecture that he had playing.

“Look at you, working so hard,” you broke the silence, “you literally weren’t able to be like this at the library.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just a little “uh-huh”. It was more of a little grunt in agreement.

It bothered you that he wasn’t talking to you like usual. No hands or eyes all over you—nothing!

You remove your hands away from him.

“Yoongi, don’t you want to relax with me for a little bit?”

It was obvious you were pouting again—you can just hear it as you spoke.

“Can’t, baby. I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He didn’t even bother to glance over at you or complain how you removed your hand from his head.

“Not even just for a little?”

You hear him exhale, the small action enough to make your heart sink just a little.

“Baby, I’m a little busy. Go lay in my bed and rest for me over there, yeah? I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

Now that definitely hurt.

He didn’t even take a look at you again! Not one glance.

Without a word, you sat on his bed. Eventually you quietly lay down, taking your phone out to scroll through your apps even though you’d much prefer to be talking or hanging out with Yoongi.

The silence and sound of his lecture videos and the small scratches of his pencil on his paper echos in the room.

Who would have thought you’d ever see Yoongi ignoring you or not be all over you when you’re in the same room as him?

You immediately got to thinking.

And it hit you.

You toss your phone somewhere on the bed, getting up and making your way to Yoongi. You stood next to him, watching the way he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. He sits there silently, carefully watching his lecture. When you see the right moment, you turn his chair a bit towards you, giving you enough room to squeeze your way through and sit on his lap while facing him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Baby—,” he sighs, “I told you I’m busy right now. I can’t have you on me like this.”

“But babyyy I miss youuu,” you whined, “can’t I get a recharge?”

You notice him completely freeze, slowly taking in what just happened—it was the first time in forever where you didn’t call him by his name.

You mentally smirk to yourself.

Now that’s what you were waiting for.

He swallows hard, keeping his composure.

“Yeah?” He hums, “I have the test tomorrow and I’m trying to get a good grade on it. If I let you sit here with me, you gotta promise me that you won’t distract me. This test means a lot to me. Got that, baby?”

You tighten your hold around him, nestling your head against the side of his neck. You nod your head at his words. Not because you agree or that you’d promise to follow his conditions. It was just for the sake of his sanity.

He clears his throat, hitting the play button and grabbing his pencil to continue scribbling down notes or whatever.

Everything was pissing you off at the moment.

You missed his hands being all over you and the way he’d fight his way to steal another kiss from you while you’re trying to push him away because he was always greedy for more. You wanted him to be annoyingly head over heels for you while you try to be nonchalant about it. And it’s also crazy to think that it’s only been a couple days and you’re acting like this over Yoongi not showing you the same attention as usual.

You give it some time. Patiently waiting until you thought it was time to get him all riled up—and then maybe he might just pay more attention to you. But being extremely patient at this moment is a pain in the ass, and you knew you didn’t want to drag this on forever. You move around on top of his lap, trying to somewhat grind against him as you pretend to get yourself more comfortable. You move your face closer to his neck, nuzzling your head on the top of his shoulder. You softly exhale, allowing your breath to hit and tickle his neck.

Nothing. No reaction.

You place your soft lips against his skin, giving him very light kisses on the same spot.

He slightly tilts his neck away without a word, causing you to huff in annoyance. You immediately bring your lips to his neck again, placing slow and gentle kisses on the side of his neck that instead lead to a spot under his ear and along his jawline.

He groans, clearly enjoying your actions but conflicted with the need to resist the temptation of you.

“Baby,” is all he says, voice sharp and stern.

You pull away, sitting up straight to face him.

“Enough.”

You could tell on his face that he was being serious.

Well..trying to. And it was cute—which is why he wasn’t as successful with intimidating you.

You roll your eyes at him, making your way towards him to pepper his jawline with kisses.

“But I miss youu,” you mumbled against his skin, making your way to his ear.

“…and I want you so bad, babyyy.”

You hear him mumble a “fuckin’ hell” under his breath and his hands creep underneath your thighs. He’s picking you up and you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck tightly. In no time, you feel your back hit against the bed. You watch him adjust himself so that he’s eye level with you as he hovers above you. Just by the look of his dark eyes, you knew you were in for it.

“Yoongi—,” you squeaked.

“Hm?” He hums, voice rough.

The atmosphere around him felt different this time. It was just hard to point out what it was. Nevertheless, you brushed it off. As desperate this may sound, you were finally getting what you wanted and you’re not going to let anything get in the way. All you wanted right now was him because—fuck—you miss him.

“Please—,” you mumble.

It felt embarrassing to be underneath him like this with his hungry eyes beaming at you—and that’s all he’s been doing for the past how many minutes that felt like an eternity. You watch his eyes flicker from your eyes and down to your lips, clearly tempted to just devour you then and there but he doesn’t. He shifts in his position, bringing his right thigh in between your legs and pressed against your crotch, giving you the opportunity to grind against him—cuz fuck, you couldn’t help it. You wanted to be touched—you needed him to do something to help you get some relief but he didn't do anything.

He watches you carefully. The way your eyes flutter shut and open slowly as you attempt to grind against his thigh, begging for him to do something. God, you were just so fucking tempting. But he couldn’t.

Instead, he brings his head to the side of your neck, peppering a messy line of light kiss along it. He leads the trail up towards the side of your jaw, almost mimicking exactly what you were doing earlier. Once he makes it to the spot underneath the lobe of your ear he pulls away.

“What do you want, princess?” He softly speaks into your ear.

The sound of his voice and the way his breath hits your skin already sends shivers down your spine. It was really just the effect he had on you, and he never failed to make you feel this way. Your mind was already drunk off him, words also didn’t seem to want to come out of your mouth.

He removes his thigh away from you and sits up, getting another good look at you before he lowers himself more till he becomes face-to-face with your abdomen as he lays in between your legs. He lifts up the oversized hoodie you wore, but only exposing your tummy. From there, he started to place slow and soft kisses from below your chest and leading down to underneath your belly button. These actions were making you go crazy—maybe it has been too long since you’ve been touched this way by Yoongi.

He stops giving your tummy kisses when he reaches the spot under your belly button, making you whine out a little “please”.

“Mmm?” He hums, looks up at you as he sits back up to admire you. “What baby? You want me to go further, don’t you?”

You nod at him, your eyes telling him that you need more.

He gives you a lopsided smile before bringing his head to the side of yours, his lips slightly grazing the shape of your ear.

“I don’t fuck just anyone anymore, remember? My girlfriend is the only person I ever want to fuck.”

What a damn smart ass.

He’s already pulling away chuckling before you could wrap yourself around him to keep him on top of you.

“Whaat?!” You whined, “—but Yoongi!”

He’s laying in between your legs, arms wrapped around your hips as he nuzzles the side of his head on your tummy. You watch him get comfortable and his breathing slows.

“Yoongi,” you gently pat his head in annoyance.

Silence.

“Yoongi, wake up,” you huff.

Nothing.

The exhaustion finally caught up to him and made this man fall asleep on you just like that.

You grumble to yourself in annoyance—a perfectly good plan gone to waste. You do your best to shove him off you (of course it took a couple tries). Once you finally got him off you, you took your needy ass home.

That was just it.

Hoseok could deal with this man when he gets home!

—

You honestly couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you’re in this position right now. The Yoongi you were seeing now was a complete 180 from the one you were dealing with yesterday.

“What’s with the little outfit you have underneath your hoodie, princess? Were you already expecting me to come over?”

His smile is cheeky, the thought of you waiting for him to come home in that outfit got him smiling like crazy.

Fuck—it made him way too happy.

You hum, carefully picking out your words.

“I was going to film something.”

“Yeah?” His eyes widen, and his imaginary tail starts to wag. “as a congratulatory gift, huh?”

“That… or a ‘sorry-you-failed-you’ll-get-it-next-time’ gift,” you chuckle.

He scoffs at your words.

“You thought I wouldn’t pass?”

“I mean there was a possibility, wasn’t there, Yoongi?”

He chuckles, bringing his eyes from you down to your thighs.

“You don’t get it, baby,” he hums, fingers lightly grazing down your thigh, “you told me you’d be all mine if I passed this exam.” He pauses, removing his fingers from your thigh and brings his face closer to your skin, pressing chaste kisses that lead up to your inner thigh. He gently bites down, earning a little yelp from you.

Yoongi sits up to face you eye-to-eye again, admiring the annoyed look on your cute face yet there was a slight shift in his demeanor.

“There’s no way I’d ever want to lose to a prize like that, baby. And even if I weren’t able to pass that exam, you know damn well that I’ll make sure to make you want to be mine.”

He stares at you, mentally undressing you causing him to lick his lips. The way he looked at you made you feel small, despite his eyes flickering from your eyes, down to your lips, and to your bare legs. It suddenly felt embarrassing to be wearing such an outfit under a hoodie while being in front of Yoongi.

As if he could sense your feelings, he gets off the bed and grabs your swivel chair from your desk, placing it right in front of the end of the bed. He takes a seat, leaning back with his legs spread and arms crossed over his chest.

“Show me what you were about to film.”

“Yoongi—,” you mess with the bottom of your hoodie, pulling it down to cover yourself some more, “—you know I can’t —.”

“Show. Me.” He interrupts, words sharp. His voice was low and demanding—and you hate to admit it but it was definitely turning you on.

You swallowed hard, awkwardly clearing your throat before answering him.

“I’m—uh—,” you croaked.

“What is it?”

“My—um…,” you mumbled “…it’s in the drawer on your right.”

He raises an eyebrow, turning to his side to pull open the drawer of your dresser. He rummages through it without looking until he feels a particular item he can already recognize. The boy brings it out, holding it in front of him with a snicker.

“You were going to use this too?” He’s waving it around, a big smile on his face.

Your grow even more embarrassed, face flushed. You look down, avoiding his gaze as you sheepishly nod your head.

“What a treat,” he hums, “but don’t you need to prepare yourself before using your little toy?”

You lift your head up only to find him still watching you with a teasing smile.

“Let me see how you get yourself all nice and wet, princess—then I’ll hand this over to you.”

As you’re sitting on top of your legs in a kneeling position, you bring your thighs a little closer to each other—and he immediately notices it.

He’s tipping his head upwards, giving you a signal to “go on”.

You could just not listen to him but in all honesty, you’ve been waiting so long to become intimate with him again. And knowing him—especially from what happened the other day—he’d definitely tease the shit out of you and not give you what you want if you don’t follow his orders.

You try to brush off the nerves you were feeling, moving your legs from underneath. Your legs were spread apart, knees bent and feet on top of the bed, giving him a good view of your skimpy, sheer underwear you chose to wear today. He could already tell you were wet—just from a quick glance at your panties he’s already spotted a little wet patch.

With just your index and middle finger, you take the two digits and place them over your panties and on top of your clit, rubbing it in small and slow circles. You were already closing your eyes, throwing your head back while moaning softly. Maybe it was the effect of his presence or just him overall but you felt even more turned on than when you do this by yourself.

“Panties to the side, princess.”

You do as he says, feeling the surge embarrassment run through you, causing your face to grow hot and red. You continue to slowly rub your wet clit, with your head turned to the side as you whimper and moan all while avoiding him.

“Don’t avoid your pussy, baby. It needs some attention too,” he hums, “put a finger in.”

You look at him, biting down on your lip as you remove your fingers from your clit.

You hesitate a bit before slowly inserting your middle finger into your heat, pumping it in and out as you turn your head away from him to avoid his gaze. You bit down on your lip with enough pressure to leave indents, suppressing your moans from Yoongi.

“So good baby, you’re such a good girl.” He coos.

“Your pussy is just sucking your finger right in, princess,” he chucked, “making a whole mess just from one finger.”

You ignored his comments, torn between concentrating imagining that your fingers were his own or his cock that were filling up your pussy, or the fact that you wanted to hide yourself and your moans from the man in front of you. God, it’s embarrassing—to be exposed and to be playing with your most private part right in front of a man you were head over heels for. Yoongi, however, wasn’t having it. He thought this whole thing was the biggest turn on he’s ever had. You were the sexiest girl on earth to him, especially with the nice treat of you playing with yourself.

“Nnnggh—ahh~!” You yelped, quickly looking down to see the man in between your legs, eyes dark as he lapped up your overflowing essence. Your movements stutter, and he takes that as an opportunity to move your hand away and replace it with his, making you a bit noisier than before. He pulls his face away, thumb playing with your clit as he keeps eye contact with you.

“There we go, baby. Don’t hide that pretty face from me,” he smirks. It was easy for him to read you—he already knew that you would try to avoid his gaze. He’s tossing your pink dildo on the bed, removing his hand from your clit. He places each hand on the back of your thigh of each leg, pressing your legs against the sides of your chest and nearly folding you in half. This position was one of his favorites—he was always able to see everything while he ate you out.

He keeps a tight hold on your legs, making sure they stay in place. He switches from using a flat tongue while moving his head side to side to using just the tip of his tongue to stimulate your sensitive and erect clit before sucking it—completely indulging in all your juices that were flowing out of you.

“W-wait!—please!” you squealed.

He has you squirming, lifting your hips in an attempt to get it away or closer to his face. The noises he made were obscene— loud slurps, low hums. He ran his tongue up and down your slit, lapping up the essence you produced. He uses that thick piece of muscle to probe at your hole, plunging it in and out of you. He buried his face into your pussy, his tongue moving around your hole as his nose brushes against your bead, allowing him to inhale the sweetest scent of you.

He loved watching the look you had on your face—cheeks brushed red, mouth hanging open, eyebrows furrowed. It was a sexy look—and being in this position where he had a good view of your lower half and your face could almost make him cum. He removes his hold from one leg, bringing that free hand to easily slide two fingers in you as he abuses your clit with his mouth, causing you to let out a strained gasp.

“Y-yoon…gi~!” You cried.

He hums against your clit before removing himself.

“Fuck, princess—,” he curls his fingers upwards as he thrusts them into you, “—you taste so damn good.”

“Please—! Need you!”

He’s chuckling at you—thought that you looked so damn adorable that he was contemplating to tease the shit out of you or completely fuck your brains out.

“Yeah? You need my cock, huh, baby?” With his two fingers in your pussy, he uses his thumb to rub your clit, causing you to clench around him. He becomes more aggressive with his thrusting of his fingers.

“Hhhnnghh—!” You squeak, feeling yourself about to reach your high. You’re gripping onto the sheets, arching your back. Right there—it was right there. You could feel the way he was trying to get you to release. But once you almost felt that wave of pleasure, it was quickly taken away from you. Your legs shake and you clench around nothing.

“You owe me a show, princess,” the man hums, bringing the wet digits to his mouth. He spreads his two fingers apart, making a v-shape as he takes his tongue and licks around his fingers—the slick, sticky essence coating them— all while making sure to maintain eye contact with you.

“Yooonggii—,” you whined with a pout, bringing your legs together to rub your thighs against each other to feel something. “Was almost there, Yoongi~,” you mumble with a pout, innocent eyes glistening at him.

He’s standing up as you spoke, chuckling at how desperate you looked.

“God, you’re fucking cute.”

It was clear to him how badly you wanted him to continue. But he had to hold himself back because he just had to play around with you. The man reaches over the bed to grab the sex toy he tossed earlier, holding up to show it to you.

“I got you all ready for this, baby. Show me how you use it.”

You look at him with a flushed face, lips pouting at the fact he wasn’t going to continue what he was doing earlier. It was annoying—stopping you from cumming just because he wants to see you ride your dildo. You were hoping the pleading look on your face would change his mind—make him want to continue, but he doesn’t budge. You slightly roll your eyes at him, reposition yourself to sit up in front of him on your knees again.

He smirks, satisfied with how well you’re listening to him even though he can see right through you. Yoongi gently tosses the dildo in front of you before taking a seat. You took the toy into your hands, holding it as if it was a foreign object to you.

“Go on, baby.” He hums, keeping his eyes on you. He looked relaxed; slightly slouched against the chair with his legs manspreading.

You huff, mustering up the courage and to mentally preparing yourself to do such a lewd act in front of him (even though the two of you have already slept with each other and seen one another naked and whatnot…). You lift yourself up, standing on your knees with them slightly spread apart. You hold the bottom of your hoodie underneath your chin, which exposes just your tummy, while you try to position the toy underneath you. You bring your panties to the side to expose yourself, brushing just the tip against your slit which makes you clench around nothing. You slowly sink down once you feel yourself wrap around the tip.

“Haaa~,” you gasp, tilting your head back as you sink down even further. You’re a whimpering, mumbling mess when you have it completely in you—and fuck has it been a long time since you’ve actually used it or been fucked by Yoongi. You allow yourself to get yourself adjusted.

He focuses on how your face scrunches up and how your mouth hangs open, since you’ve let go of the bottom part of your hoodie and is now covering where all the action was.

You missed this feeling of being full that it was making you go crazy. You wanted to stay like this, but for some reason you felt like wanting to move. You lift your hips up in an attempt to have the toy just barely in you, but it doesn’t slide out of you so you sit down again.

“Your pussy isn’t letting it go, princess. You’re gripping it so tightly,” he chuckles, leaning forward so that he’s closer to you and the bed. “I’ll hold it for you, baby.”

You nod, lifting your legs up as you try to relax yourself, letting your dildo slide out and onto the bed. You stood there on your knees, waiting for him to do something.

He brings his hand to the bottom of your hoodie.

“Hold this up with your mouth for me, baby. Make sure this part is the part you’re holding with your mouth”

You look at him a bit weird, not fully understanding his specific request but you do it anyway. You bring the fabric up to your mouth, now completely revealing your lingerie to him.

Ah…What a smartass.

He notices you roll your eyes at him, making him chuckle. He takes the sex toy and holds it with the base in his palm.

“Alright, baby. Go at it.” He’s positioned the dildo underneath you, waiting for you to get on it again.

The two of you make eye contact as you slowly sink down again. You feel the tip of the toy brush against your wet folds, causing you to bite down on the fabric a little harder than before.

Why are you more excited? Is it because of Yoongi?

Fuck, you wanted him badly.

As you slowly slide yourself down on the dildo, you’re immediately throwing your head back again, breaking eye contact but he continues to watch you. You feel yourself reach the end of it, only for you to immediately raise your hips and again to slowly start moving up and down. You find a rhythm as you bounce on the toy, your hands finding their way to massage your breasts, massaging them with the lingerie still on as your moans are slightly muffled from the fabric in your mouth.

“Look at you playing with yourself. You look so sexy, princess. You were going to film something like this for me, right baby?” He hums, reaching over in his pocket to take out his phone. He opens up the camera app, tilting his phone upwards to get the whole view of you and starts to record you. “I'll help you and be your cameraman—look at the camera, princess.”

At first he gets a shot of all of you—you glancing down at him and the camera with a flushed face before quickly throwing your head back, hands grabbing at your own breast over the sheer fabric covering them, your hips moving on its own as you bounced up and down. He then pans the camera to your pussy swallowing up your dildo.

“Yeah, keep moving like that, baby. You’re making such a creamy mess on your dildo like a good girl. You’re gripping so hard—fuck, baby,” he groans lowly.

He watches the way all your overflowing juices were pooling at the base of the dildo and makes sure to get a good shot of it before tossing it to the side.

“Take the hoodie off, baby.”

You do as he says, tossing the fabric somewhere on the floor. He takes in the way you looked in the skimpy piece of clothing you wore underneath.

God, you blew him away.

You were just so. damn. beautiful.

The white made you look heavenly—angelic, actually. And the lacey, sheer fabric that covered you wasn’t necessary at this point, but damn did it do a good job at catching his eye. The set you had on also had some frills on it, along with a little bow in the middle of your waistband and of your bra. It all suited you—it was perfectly made for you.

He literally just couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

With his free hand, he caresses the curve of your waist to the curve of your hips. He takes a finger and curls it underneath the thin waistband of your panties, following it slowly until he removes it once he reached the middle of your thigh. Yoongi brings his hand up to your chest, using his index finger and thumb to pinch your erect nipple right through the sheer fabric.

“Haaahh~,” you stutter in your movements, letting out an airy moan.

God, he needed you so bad.

He takes the hand that is holding your dildo, flicking his wrist upwards, causing you to fall forwards and pause your movements. He slides your dildo back out, only just to slam it back in and keep it at a steady pace—fucking you with your dildo as you stay still leaning over him. His free hand goes to the side of your ass, helping you stay up.

“Yoongi—!” You whine, your arms making its way to link behind the man’s neck. Your chest is nearly pressed against his face, giving him the opportunity to grab a mouthful of your breast.

The man encases your hard nipple through the fabric in his mouth, biting down on it enough to get another moan of his name out of your mouth.

“Nnnghh~!” You squeal, pulling him closer to you.

He then begins to suck on your nipple, toying with the metal bar that’s pierced right through it. With how sheer the fabric is, he’s practically sucking on you rather than the fabric.

Your legs begin to shake as he starts to pick up the pace with your dildo. You could feel that high again, the same feeling you felt earlier when he was eating you out like a goddamn monster.

“Yoongi!” You chant with your mouth slightly hung open, “please! Right there—!”

He’s slamming the dildo inside you, filing you all the way. He’s hitting the spot that made you roll your eyes backwards, your mouth hanging open and spewing nonsense.

He removes himself from your breast, pulling back to take a look at your face, admiring how sexy you are. God—he can’t get over you.

“Go ahead and cum for me, baby,” he mumbles lowly, “lose yourself already.”

He uses the hand on your ass to guide you on your dildo while the other hand has it sliding in and out of you. He brings his lips to your collarbone, trailing kisses towards and up your neck.

You breathe heavily, mouth hung wide open as pleasure takes over you. It almost felt like you were being fucked by him, but it was nearly enough.

“Yoongi—yoongi!” You chant before losing yourself. You rest your head on his shoulder, listening to your heart pound crazy while you catch your breath.

“Good job, baby, you did so good.” He kisses the side of your head, slowly removing the dildo from your pussy, earning a little whine from you.

He lets you sit down on his clothed lap, your wetness probably leaving marks on his sweats. At this point, you could most definitely feel how hard he was right now. You lift your head up and look at him with fucked out eyes. Your hands were clasped behind his neck, while his hands rested on your waist.

You grind yourself against his hard erection, hoping he gets the hint that you wanted him now instead of having you beg for it.

The corner of his mouth lifts up to a small smirk.

He’s lifting you up as he gets you both off the bed. He’s turning around, gently bringing you down on top of the bed.

“Lie down for me, baby,” his voice low.

He gets a view of you again in your sexy lingerie. Yes, this fucking sexy ass lingerie—god, all the mental photos he has of you will definitely be on repeat in his mind. He didn’t want to remove it. I mean—it would be a waste if he had to. Just the look of you in such a pretty yet skimpy outfit made him go crazy.

You attempt to be quick with closing your legs again, keeping some modesty. However, he was able to beat you by bringing his hands on either of your legs and pushing them slightly down to keep you wide open for him.

“So pretty,” he mumbles under his breath as he salivates at the look of your body. You grew embarrassed again, having the urge to shut your legs to cover you up but Yoongi was too strong for you.

“Can you tell me what you want next, baby?”

You already knew he was going to tease you—actually he probably just wanted to hear those words come right out of your mouth. It would be music to his ears.

“Yoongi, please…,” you mumble, “don’t you want to fuck me?” You give him the most innocent doe eyes that you could, hoping he could lose himself already.

He chuckles.

“Of course, princess,” he brings himself closer to you, taking his painful erection and grinds himself against your slick, teasing your little hole. “You want me to fuck you like this? With my clothes on? It’s making such a mess on my pants, baby.”

You bite down on your bottom lip, shaking your head no. You wanted more, and you know that he knows that already.

“Thought so,” he hums. “Be specific, baby. Tell me what you want me to do.”

You hesitate a bit, but his teasing was enough to make you more upfront with what you wanted.

“Take your clothes off too, Yoongi.”

“Mmm…were you feeling alone?”

“Extremely, Yoongi”

He chuckles as he removes every piece of his clothing from his body, tossing it wherever in the room.

“Can’t let my baby feel that way,” he hums.

Your eyes go from his to below his waist, watching him slowly remove his boxers and revealing his cock. It was thick and long, an angry red at the tip with a bit of precum oozing out.

Your hand gravitates towards it, holding it by the base and squeezing it a little. You completely forgot how big and girthy he was. As you slide your hand up and down his cock, you got him lowly groaning while you thought to yourself about whether or not this thing could fit in you again. But fuck—you wanted him so bad.

“…please Yoongi,” you remove your hand from his cock, looking up at him, “fuck me already.”

He’s smiling, bringing his cock closer to your core. He takes his thumb to push his cock on top of your slit, and keeps it there. He slides himself back and forth, coating himself with your slick, teasing you as he rubs the tip of his cock against your clit.

You let out a little whine from his touch.

“Want your cock inside me, Yoongi,” you mumble.

He’s leaning forward to press a chaste kiss on your forehead, his facing hovering yours.

“It’s all yours, baby.”

He’s leans in again to steal a passionate kiss from you, while he slowly pushes his cock inside your soaked hole. You slightly pull away from him, your mouth hanging open, spewing out soft moans as he fills you up.

He gives you the chance to get used to him being inside you. And fuck, did he miss your fucking pussy.

He pulls his hips back, letting you miss the feeling of him filling you up before he slams himself right back into you again.

“Haaah~! Yoongi!” You say breathlessly. Your hands crawl to hold the sides of his face, as he continues to leave a trail of scattered kisses from the side of your neck and down to your chest. He’s pulling the cup of your bra down, exposing you before he latches on to your pierced nipple.

He starts to pick up the pace as he thrusts into you; finally leaving your breasts alone with hickies that mark you as his. He stands straight to look down at you, watching you writhing underneath him. He pulls the other cup to your bra to expose the other perky and pierced breast. His eyes mesmerized by the face you were making as you were getting fucked by him, your tight pussy sucking him right up, and your tits bouncing everywhere—god it felt like they made him even harder.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he grunts as he thrusts into you, “you’re all mine, huh?”

You let out little more whimpers and moans, unable to make out any sentences. He chuckles, wanting to see you lose more of yourself. He lifts your leg and puts it over your shoulder, wanting to penetrate you even deeper. He takes his right thumb and gives it a quick lick with his tongue before placing it right on your clit, rubbing it in circles.

“Nnnggh—ah! Yoongi!” You yelp.

“My pretty girl. You take me in so well, huh?”

He watches you let out louder moan, realizing that his cock grazed your most sensitive spot.

He’s snapping his hips hard against you. He lifts his knee up to place it on the bed, angling himself so that he could continuously hit that spot that had you rolling your eyes back. He presses down on your clit harder, torturing it with quick and small tracings of a circle.

You’re mumbling nonsense, spewing out whatever came out of your mouth. He could feel you tightening around him, making him let out another groan.

He looks down at the area where you two were connected, admiring the creamy mess you were making on his dick. His eyes wander upwards to your heavenly body. Then up to your cute face, making all kinds of sounds as he pounded you—God, he’s actually going insane, he was grunting with every thrust.

“W-wait! Haahnngh~! Yoongi!” You bring a hand to his abdomen, weakly trying to push him away as he’s drilling himself inside of you.

“Please!” You whined, “s-something’s coming out!”

A soft smile slowly forms on the man’s face as he watches yours—mouth hung open, nonsense whining. You were writhing underneath him, trying to get away from him but he wouldn’t let you. He presses a soft kiss on your forehead before putting more strength into his thrusts.

“Yoongi!” You yelped, letting out helpless whines as you can feel yourself about to reach your high.

Your hands wrap around his back, your sharp nails scratching him enough to show red lines and possibly make him bleed.

He gives a final thrust, causing you to squirt all over his pelvis area and onto the bed when he removes himself from your hole.

“Fuck…,” he grumbles under his breath.

He watches your chest move up and down, eyes closed as you’re still trying to recover from what just happened.

“You made a fucking mess, baby. You squirted all over me.”

Your eyes shot open, propping yourself up with your elbows to look down at what you did.

“I just…?” You lay yourself down again, covering your eyes in humiliation. It’s the first time you’ve done that before. “Yoongi—this is so embarrassing,” you whined.

“Embarrassing?” He’s leaning forward to kiss the back of your hands before gently removing them away from your face, eyes now on him. “That was sexy as fuck, baby.”

He’s lifting you to sit you up before he carries you again. He sits first on the edge of the bed, placing you on his lap while facing forward. Right in front of you, you had a view of the two of your naked, sweaty bodies. Hickies scatter across your chest, your legs spread apart and glistening from you making the biggest mess. You feel your cheeks grow red from looking at yourself.

He helps remove your sheer, lace bra off. His hands roam around until they glide up and down the sides of your waist.

“Look how sexy you are, baby. So, so fucking sexy.”

He’s tapping on the side of your ass, signaling for you to lift your bottom just a bit, which you did, as he helps you remove your panties. He holds his cock up, and helps you guide your hips to it. You slowly slide down on his cock, fully taking him whole, causing you to let out a shaky moan.

“Bring your feet up, baby.”

You do it, placing one foot on either side of him and near the edge of the bed. He has his chest against your back, an arm holding your waist to keep you steady while his other hand is pushed against the bed behind him to hold him up.

“Bounce for me, princess. And keep your eyes on the mirror. Need you to see what I see when I fuck you.”

You bite down on your lip, looking at him through the mirror and he tips his head again telling you to “go on”. You slowly lift your hips up, feeling somewhat empty without his cock in you, until you drop yourself down on him. The fullness had you moaning out his name, throwing your head back in pleasure.

“I told you to watch yourself, didn’t I?”

You keep a steady pace on his cock, your eyes closed and mouth hanging open again.

“…too embarrassing—,” you moan.

He scoffs, annoyed with your response. He wanted you to see how you looked—how your body reacts when you have his cock stuffed inside of you. He wasn’t going to let that answer slide.

The man hooks his arms under the back of your knees, carrying you while he keeps himself in you. Your eyes flash open when you feel yourself in the air.

“W-wait! Yoongi!” Your hands go to your face to cover your eyes. You lay your back more against him to keep yourself from falling forward.

He’s moving you on his cock with no difficulties. He has you bouncing up and down, while you’re still trying to process what’s going on.

“Look at how much of a slut you fucking look like, princess,” his voice low and gravely.

The contrast of his words turn you on. Peaking through your fingers, you catch a glimpse of your glistening, naked body.

“Remove them, now.”

You swallow hard, finally facing yourself. Your eyes wander, watching the way your pussy took in your boyfriend’s cock, how you were making such a damn mess on it, the way your perky breasts bounced around while he thrusted upwards into your pussy. It was all so vulgar—a dirty scene that came out of a porno.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby. This is the view that I get—andI’m the only one who gets to have this view.”

Despite feeling slightly embarrassed about watching yourself, you couldn’t help but feel a bit more turned on. Who knew you could make such a dirty yet sexy expression?

You’re furrowing your eyebrows, mouth hung open as you whimper and moan. Your hand travels down to your lower abdomen, holding it there to feel a slight bulge whenever Yoongi pushes himself in you. It was actually insane to you to be able to feel and see this.

“Go lower, baby. Play with yourself.”

Your hand slowly inches lower, grazing your skin. You take a finger and draw small, slow circles on your clit. You watch yourself through the mirror, your eyes flickering to watch your scrunched up face to how Yoongi was pounding your pussy while you played with your swollen, sensitive bead.

“Fuck—that’s it baby. You listen so well,” he grunts.

He adjusts his hold under you, making it more comfortable for him to slide you in and out of him while he fucks you harder underneath. He was basically doing bicep curls at this point—his muscles were nearly on fire but he couldn’t care any less.

“More pressure baby.”

You follow his commands, and you have yourself throwing your head back again as you lose yourself. Your sensitive clit makes your hips shake, causing you to squeeze tightly around him. You hear Yoongi slightly growl in your ear, going crazy because of you.

“You’re milking my cock so hard—you want my cum that bad, huh?” His voice was gruff.

He holds you a bit lower, stopping his little bicep curls and instead continues to fuck you from underneath at a faster pace and with more forceful thrusts.

“Ngggh—ahh~!” You yelp from the change in speed.

“Don’t fucking remove your fingers. Keep playing with yourself.”

You were nearly seeing stars again. You couldn’t think straight. But you could feel that same feeling you felt earlier, and you knew you just couldn’t hold that knot in your stomach anymore.

“F—fuck! Yoongi! Ah—!” You cried, “cumming!”

“Fucking cum for me, baby. Lose yourself already.”

He’s thrusting you with all the power he can, while his face was stuck on watching your reaction on your airbrushed slightly red face.

Soon, he's pulling out of your slippery, wet hole. Your mouth makes an “o” shape, before crying out Yoongi’s name as you orgasm again. Your body fluids shot out of you and coating the mirror—and you squirt again, just as he was wanting to get you to do.

Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes closed as you were trying to catch your breath. You could feel your hips still twitching from being so sensitive. This was something you’ve never experienced before.

He’s kissing the side of your head, mumbling sweet words. He gently lays you back down on the bed on your back, allowing you some time to relax for a bit. You can feel the mix of his and your fluids seeping out of your hole, dripping down to your other puckered hole.

Your eyes flutter open and they couldn’t help but take a quick scan at the naked man’s body that stood in front of you. As you look lower, you can’t help but notice that his cock was still painfully hard, standing up straight with a slight curve to it.

He towers over you, watching every small movement you make. Although he was being sweet to give you some time to rest, by the look he was making you could tell he was hungrily waiting for the next round. He licks his lips as a lazy smile forms on his face as your eyes finally meet.

“Yoongi…,” you mumble. Your hand makes its way to his length, wrapping your fingers around it. Your essence still coats him, making it slippery enough for you to slowly stroke his cock. You look up at him with half-lided eyes.

He lowly groans in pleasure, throwing his head back for a second before bringing it back to look at you.

“Mmm…yes, baby?”

“All that fucking and you’re still so hard?”

He’s laughing, an odd thing to do when someone is giving you a handjob.

“I can’t get enough of you, baby.”

“Yeah?” You hum, slowing your movements.

He takes his hand and wraps it around yours, helping you pump his cock before he starts to guide it to your slit. The two of you drag the tip against your wet folds.

“Looks like it’s the same for you too, baby. You’re fucking wet again.” He’s pushing himself into you again, the two of you letting go of his cock. He slowly sinks in, getting a little whimper out of you.

“All that fucking and you’re still clenching onto me so tightly, baby. You really love my cock inside you, huh?”

He’s pulling out, still keeping the tip in, before he thrusts back into you.

“Mmmph~! F-fuck…! Yesss, Yoongi.”

He’s chuckling again, keeping his pace steady.

“Yeah?” He hums, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your thigh to keep it steady. Taking his free hand, he uses it to press firmly against your lower abdomen. You’re mumbling nonsense again from this new feeling of pleasure.

“God—I fucking love you,” he grunts, bringing your other leg over his shoulder. He’s leaning against you, practically folding your body in half just to reach you even deeper. This position had you rolling your eyes back, reaching for any body part of him to dig your fingernails into his skin. Yoongi would switch it up at times—from giving you fast yet shorter strokes to taking his sweet time as he pulls himself nearly all the way out just to slowly bring himself back in. However, he made it his goal to make sure every thrust was sharp enough to bruise your cervix.

Your mouth hangs open, nothing but airy moans escaping from it with every thrust he makes. He brings his face to yours, using this opportunity to probe his tongue into your mouth. His tongue dances along with yours before he captures it in his mouth. He’s sucking on it, eliciting more moans from you but he removes himself to swallow them. You pull away to catch your breath, the knot in your stomach becoming tighter.

“Gonna…cum—,” you mumble under your breath.

Yoongi huffs, giving you small pecks on the sides of your mouth. He really didn’t need you to let him know. He could already tell by the way your insides were clamping onto him.

He’s quickly removing himself from you, denying your orgasm. The man watches your hips move in desperation, your hole spasming around nothing as he helps you rest your legs on the bed.

“Yoongiii—hnngh…,” you cried, voice whiney. “So mean,” you quietly mumble.

He smirks at your words.

Without any word, he rolls you onto your stomach. The man lifts your hips upwards to have your ass sticking up and spreads your legs apart. He pushes the upper portion of your body against the mattress, your arms cushion your head as you lay there. With his large hand, he presses on the small of your back, helping you with a deeper arch.

“Beg for my cock, baby.”

You turn your head around to look back at him, shaking your head in disagreement while he has you in this position.

His left eyebrow lifts up and a dark chuckle escapes his lips.

“You were behaving so well earlier, princess.” He hums, taking his dick and running it through your wet folds to collect your arousal. “Now you want to be a brat?”

“Don’t want to beg anymore,” you mumble.

He scoffs. “So should I end it here?”

“Go ahead. I’ll find someone else who could do a better job then. They would let me cum.”

He smacks the sides of your ass, getting a yelp out of you.

“Watch your mouth.”

“Maybe I can call up this one guy—.”

He grasps the sides of your ass, spreading them apart to reveal your needy pink, dripping hole. He slowly sinks into you, causing you to let out a shaky moan. Yoongi keeps still inside of you, making sure you’re taking in all of him.

“You only need me, baby—your fucking boyfriend. I’m the only one who gets to see you this way and get you to cum.”

He can’t help but absolutely hate the sound and the thought of you with another man. It drove him crazy just hearing you mention “some other guy”.

Your eyebrows furrowed together, little moans coming out of you as being stuffed with his dick made you go dumb in the head.

“—Yoongi—ngggh—! Move!”

He lifts your hips higher, pressing the small of your back to get you to arch your back more. He leans over you, his pelvis pressed against your ass, making you feel his dick even further in you, causing you to let out a swear. He leaves gentle kisses on the back of your naked shoulder.

“Say please,” he mumbles into your skin.

“F—fuck, Yoongi!” You grumble, annoyed at his words.

He waits patiently, letting his silence and your soft whimpers fill the air. The man couldn’t care less if he had to stay in the position for hours—he loved the feeling of your soft, warm, and wet pussy pulsating around him.

And with that, you knew you couldn’t win.

“—Please—!” You cry out.

“Remind me who I am again.”

“—boyfriend!” You quickly spat out, desperate for him to move already.

“You gonna be a good girl for me again?”

You’re quick to nod your head ‘yes’.

He grins at your response, happy with how easy he can get you to be submissive when you’re full of his cock.

“Now was that so hard to do, princess?”

He’s pulling out, just the tip barely in you.

“…annoying,” you mumble under your breath.

He slams himself into you again, causing you to moan out his name.

“Yeah? I’m annoying too, huh? A big mean, annoying boyfriend, right?” His voice was low and gravelly.

He starts to find a rhythm and pace as he starts to pound your pussy. Snapping his hips to make sure his skin hits against yours as loud and as hard as he can, the noises filling the room and the skin of your ass slowly turning a shade of red.

He’s searching for your dildo that was thrown somewhere nearby. Once he finds it, he’s immediately taking it. He leans over you as he fucks you, placing the dildo in front of you. Yoongi halts his movements, removing himself from you.

“Yoongi~,” you whine, swaying your ass side to side. You push your hips back, trying to find him so you could reconnect again.

God, this view—this scenario. It’s all he could easily get used to.

“C’mon, baby you can’t be doing that to me,” he slightly groans, “you’re driving me crazy.”

“Please,” you mumble, bringing your hands behind you. You place one hand on the sides of your ass, gently spreading it apart so that Yoongi has a better view of your weeping hole. You turn your head to look back at him as you hold yourself in this position, swaying your ass side to side. “Please go crazy and fuck me already, Yoongi.”

What a fucking invite.

“Fuck,” he hissed, running his hand through his wet hair. He could feel all the blood in his body rushing to his cock, making him painfully harder. His mind went damn blank just from hearing you say that while being in such a pornographic position.

You seriously knew how to turn him on.

How fucking dangerous.

He’s bringing himself closer to you, rubbing his erect cock in between your ass, allowing it to slide back and forth. It gets you impatient, causing you to wiggle your ass again as he continues with his movements.

“Be a good girl and keep that dildo in your mouth while I fuck you, alright princess?” He gives the side of your ass another gentle slap as a form of encouragement.

Yoongi patiently waits for you to start bobbing your head, along with the vulgar slurping noises you obnoxiously made.

Did you really enjoy having that dildo inside your mouth when he was right behind you?

He mentally scoffs out of jealousy, knowing that he shouldn’t be feeling this way at all.

You became louder with your muffled moans once Yoongi was inside of you again, making those dumb thoughts disappear. The view of you being filled up both way clearly made him way too hard—he was instantly fucking you at a brutal pace, almost as if he hasn’t touched you in ages.

He’s rougher this time; using one hand to gather your hair and make a makeshift ponytail just to wrap it around his hand to help you guide your head along your dildo while the other free hand is gripping the side of your ass as he fucked you from behind.

“You’re so fucking good, baby. Sucking on your dildo while I fuck you senseless, just like a pretty little slut you are.”

His thrusts had more force to them, your skin turning redder than before. He wanted to demolish you, make you melt underneath him. All you could do was hum into your dildo in pleasure, holding onto the base for dear life. You could feel tears threatening to spill out of your eyes whenever your dildo would reach deeper in your throat, causing you to gag on it. Of course, Yoongi thought all of this was sexy. God, it was fucking sexy.

He found that one spot again that has your mind spinning. The man angles himself so that he kept hitting that spot over and over again.

You immediately pull away from your dildo, drool escaping from the sides of your mouth.

“Y-yoongi—!” You yelped, your hands let go of the dildo after you toss it to the side, now gripping onto the sheets.

He releases his grip on your hair, moving his hand to the front of your neck to pull you up and your back arched against him, changing the position again. The other hand around your waist to keep you steady.

Yoongi brings the side of his head to yours.

“Not gonna let you get away from me,” his gravely voice whispers against your ear—and god did that send tingles down your spine.

The pressure of his hand around your neck was pleasurable enough to keep you lightheaded. However that hand goes to toy with your breasts, fiddling with piercing and pinching your nipple before taking a big handful of your breast to massage it as he fucked you.

He finally brings his hand to your front, pressing his two fingers against your swollen and sensitive bead. You feel your hips twitch, unable to control your body movements. All you could feel in this moment was how hard the two of your heartbeats were and pure ecstasy. This man knew how to fuck. Scratch that—he knew how to fuck you. He’s already memorized what had you throwing your head back, what’s got you clenching so damn tightly around him, or what has you babbling nonsense just from fucking you a couple times.

“Yoon—gi! Haaah~!” You turn your head to the side and towards him. He brings his face to yours, attacking your lips again before you pull away a moaning mess.

“Fuck—you take me in so goddamn good, baby,” he grunts, “you wanna cum, huh, baby?”

You’re nodding your head, feeling yourself nearly on the brink of losing yourself again. He’s just about bruised your cervix enough and made your damn clit so swollen and sensitive to touch. You knew you were already making a mess around his dick.

He moves his hand away from your breast and around your waist again, embracing you and holding you tightly for what’s yet to come. Your arms hold onto his arm with one of your hands interlocking with his, a gesture that had him feeling like his heart grew 10x in size. He loves you. He’s way too in love with you—head over heels at this point.

If it was even possible, he’s fucking you even harder. Grunting into your ear, telling you how good you are, how damn pretty you are—how fucking perfect you are, practically made just for him. It was all enough for you to finally lose it, and it was the same for him too. He’s groaning in pleasure when he feels your pussy twitching around him. His warm cum coats the inside of your walls before it oozes out when he removes himself. You fall forward and lay against the bed with your arms weakly holding you up. He watches the mixture of your cum slowly dripping out before he takes his two fingers to push it right back in, only for it to slip out again. He’s quick to get the kleenex tissues to wipe you up, letting you have some time to catch your breath. You’re rolling over to finally lay down on your side, watching the boy walk through the door.

“I went ahead and got the bath running, baby,” he hums, helping you sit back up. He pulls you onto his lap, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple.

“You’re insane, Yoongi.”

“Am I?” He lazily smiles.

“I really don’t know what possessed you back there.”

He laughs, “Baby, I haven’t had a taste of you like that in so damn long. I couldn’t help it.”

Before you knew it, he had you relaxing in the bathtub while he cleaned up the room and got it ready with new sheets and all for the two of you to get some rest.

—

You could feel Yoongi’s body pressed against your back; his arm sitting across your waist and his head nuzzled against the back of your head. This was all something you had never imagined for yourself—to be lovingly cuddled like this after a long night with your now boyfriend who was an ex “fuckboy” from your school, but it’s definitely something you could get used to.

You carefully remove yourself from his hold, quickly replacing yourself with one of your pillows. You glance over at him to see his sleeping figure one last time before leaving, and softly scoff with a smile on your face.

This man is actually very cute when he’s sound asleep.

You quietly pick out some new clothes before tip-toeing away to your bathroom across the hall to get yourself ready for that well-deserved shower.

After putting on your clothes, you open the bathroom door, letting all the moisture and heat out. You take the time to gently brush your hair a little more after blow drying it, then applying some hair oil to the ends of it.

“You can’t just leave me like that and expect me to be okay with it.”

Your head quickly turns around to see the mumbling boy, squinting a half-asleep eye at you while using one of their fists to rub one of their other eye. You chuckle at his appearance—his naked torso and his boxers. He stood there in between the door frame, looking like an actual child who just woke up.

“It was just a quick shower, babe.” You turn around to the mirror and continue what you were doing. “I’ll be in the room soon.”

He grunts, making his way towards you as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against him and lays his head on top of your shoulder.

“Yoongi~,” you whined with a soft chuckle.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s only allowed in bed.”

“Mm, so last night was just it, huh?”

He snorts with a chuckle at your comment, barely having enough energy to react a lot bigger.

“‘One time’ my ass. You’re stuck with me. Not letting you off that easy.”

He turns to your head and presses kisses to your hair. You bring a hand up to gently pat the side of his cheek.

“Congrats on passing the class,” you mumble, “and for finally getting that boyfriend title you’ve been wanting.”

Yoongi turns to look at you with a big smile on his face through the mirror, your hand gently caressing the side of his face. The two of you turn to each other, pressing a small kiss on the lips before pulling away.

“I know a better way you could congratulate me.”

You immediately knew exactly what he was hinting.

“You told me you’d give me whatever I want plus the boyfriend title.”

Fuck—yeah, you did promise that.

You sigh in defeat.

“…Breakfast first?” You bat your eyelashes at him, giving him that doe-eyed look that made his heart flutter like crazy.

He looks at you with so much adoration, in awe that this beautiful girl was finally his.

if you got this far, thank you for the read <3 :)

i hope you enjoyed!! pls check out my other work!

#yoongifis #yoongi smut #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts fanfic #min yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts #bts x you #bts smut #bts imagines #bts x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi one shot #min yoongi smut #yoongi

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koqabear · 11 months ago

Text

chulo

♫: Chulo Pt. 2, Bad Gyal

"Your hermit of a roommate finally decides that he’s had enough of your attitude. And of your constant assumptions that he’s never felt the touch of a woman. "

taehyun x fem!reader

Genre: pwp, roommates au, smut, enemies to lovers if you squint, ft. wingman jjun

Word count 11.4K

warnings: barely edited and barely any plot mwah, use of drugs (weed) and alcohol; mentions of the mc getting drunk (not during any of the smut), jealousy

smut warnings: sub!mc, mean dom!tyun, strength kink !! bratty mc and brat tamer tyun, high sex, shotgunning, degradation, praise, pain kink, spanking, hair pulling, thigh riding, begging, pet names/name calling (slut, baby, princess, pretty/good girl, etc.) manhandling, brief choking, mentions of safeword (it’s not used though), brief marking, biting, oral, (f. rec), face sitting, tyun is a literal pussy fiend. fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, tyun is thick and big yawnnn what else is new, dumbification maybe, slight humiliation (kink? maybe.),breast play, scratching, possessiveness, creampie (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

(lmk if i should add anything lmao)

Notes: just leaving this here to remind u guys that i am the least sane solomon on this app. i actually only wrote this for myself but congrats u all get to read it too. say thank youuu!

Taehyun was, for lack of a better word, a total goody-two-shoes; always holed up in his room studying, the only times he ever left home being for work, school, or to go run an errand. He was also your beloved roommate.

It was meant to be, really; jumping blindly at the offer your mutual friend Yeonjun offhandedly mentioned, commenting about how his friend was struggling to find someone in order to split rent— “his old roommate moved out, now he’s going broke trying to afford the place on his own.”

And you, in all your bright-eyed and enthusiastic glory, didn’t hesitate to ask for details; one long interrogation later, and you found yourself getting interviewed by the man himself— how you were able to snatch the title of Taehyun’s new roommate is something you’re still unsure of.

Because as far as you’re aware, the two of you couldn’t be any more different.

“You’re going out again?” you hear Taehyun call out from the kitchen, the said man able to hear you approaching from the hallway from the jingling of your jewelry— something he was always on your ass for, never failing to comment how you’re like a walking tambourine with that stupid quirk to his lips— the sound of his voice teeming with judgment only brought about a roll of your eyes, trudging over to the kitchen to send him a harsh glare; you made a point of placing your bangle clad wrists on your hips, the action bringing about another soft jingling.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, raising a brow expectantly; Taehyun seems unfazed by your sudden confrontation, not a single muscle twitching at your accusatory tone— his back remains turned to you, leaning on the kitchen counter leisurely while he scrolls on his phone— at the sound of your persistent hmm? He peeks over his shoulder to meet eyes with you.

“You were out till three yesterday,” he says nonchalantly, only turning so he can properly look at you whilst keeping an eye on the stove, “Is partying all you do?”

You can tell he’s trying to provoke you— but you know better than to fall for it and get angry, already victim to his constant mocking and teasing to realize that he seems to enjoy getting a rise out of you— so you simply roll your eyes and scoff, crossing your arms over your chest before you’re turning on your heel and beelining back to the door.

“You know damn well…” you mutter to yourself, sneering at the chuckles you’re able to pick up on, “It’s none of your business anyway!”

“Yeah, it kinda is!” Taehyun retorts, but you’re too busy slipping on your shoes and your jacket to voice out a rebuttal— swinging your purse over your shoulder, you’re able to catch his final comment right as you’re slipping out the door; “I’m not making the hangover soup again!”

“Fuck you and your soup!”

You shut the door behind you before Taehyun can get a word out.

☆☆☆

“How are you two still living together?”

The natural light that streams in through the windows and the sound of Yeonjun’s raspy voice is enough to have you wincing with pain and ducking your head down; hot steam from your bowl soothes your skin and puffy eyes, your body still sore from the night before as you sink into the chair with a tired sigh.

“Because as insufferable as she is, she still pays her share of the rent,” Taehyun mutters bitterly, setting down a second bowl of soup before your mutual friend, pulling out the chair across from your as he goes to sit with crossed arms, “aren’t you gonna eat? You were begging me for this earlier.” Your lips automatically go to form a scowl, but your hand still goes to reach for your spoon— because as much as you hated feeding into Taehyun’s big fat ego, you couldn’t deny that he makes some killer hangover soup; you could already feel the tension easing from your muscles from the first bite—- your eyes remained glued to the table, knowing better than to glance back up and catch the stupid triumphant look Taehyun never bothers to hide.

“Fucking insufferable,” you mumble between bites, glancing at the way Yeonjun seems to catch onto your words, shoulder shaking with the soft laugh he huffs out.

“Me?” Taehyun gawks, leaning forward as though to make sure he was hearing things right; neither of you respond, which only serves to make him more irked.

“As far as I’m aware, I’m the one that has to deal with you— always coming back late and drunk as hell—” Taehyun’s pointed glare jumps over to Yeonjun, who simply flinches and averts his gaze down to the table, “you said you’d be watching over her last night.”

“I’m not a baby,” you butt in, ignoring Taehyun’s look of disbelief, “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“And yet you’re always asking me to take care of you.”

You shrug dismissively, the last bit of your energy spent as you find yourself no longer interested in arguing; staring down at your bowl, you found that you were so busy trying to ignore Taehyun’s piercing glare that you ended up scarfing down your soup in a haste— standing abruptly, you go to place your dishes in the dishwasher before you’re spinning around and sending Taehyun a bright, innocent smile.

“It’s not my fault you always jump to come help me out,” you coo, wincing at the soreness of your body and the sharp ache in your head as you make your way over to him, cupping his face and squeezing his cheeks together, leaning in close to him even as he begins to fuss and swat at your hands angrily, “and you’re just soooo caring and sweet with me— it’s in your nature, don’t lie.”

“It gets tiring listening to you complain around the house,” Taehyun sneers grabbing your wrists firmly and pulling your hands off his face swiftly— the sudden strength catches you off guard, hands falling dumbly at your sides as you can only stare at Taehyun as he continues, cold and aloof as always, “It’s the only way I can get you to shut up.”

“Sureee… sure,” you mumble offhandedly, clearly unimpressed by his excuse as you saunter off to the living room instead, making yourself comfortable on the couch before you’re yelling back to the kitchen one last time.

“Jjunie,” you call, waiting for the muffled hmm? of the said man before you continue, “are we still down for the part next Saturday? Jake’s place?”

“Oh… uhhhm,” he pauses, and you’re sure Taehyun is probably sending him a deadly glare right now, “sure, if you want to.”

“Of course I want to,” you grin, pulling out your phone to look up Jake’s instagram page, scrolling through his feed to get a refresher of what he looks like, the satisfaction of what you see seeping into your voice as you speak, “Partying’s all I do.”

You swear you hear a scoff; it only serves to make you anticipate the weekend a little more.

☆☆☆

“You’re leaving like that?”

Your body is jolting in surprise, the mascara wand in your hand clattering on your desk as you curse in shock— Taehyun stands in your now opened doorway, unable to sense his presence due to the focus you were putting in to make sure your makeup came out perfect— meeting his gaze through the mirror, you frown, nose scrunching in distaste at the way he clearly judges you; your hand reaches for your phone, turning down the music you were playing in order to actually hear him properly.

“Don’t you know how to knock?”

“I tried. I’ve been trying. For the past three minutes,” Taehyun says, ignoring your complaints as he makes his way into your room, coming up behind you as he scans your setup— he ignores the way you continue to glare at him harshly, eyes running slowly over the mess you’ve made before he’s leaning down and reaching across the vanity; you’re pressed back against the chair and left to watch as his arm obscures your vision, hoping he didn’t pick up on the way your eyes glued onto his muscles that bulged slightly as he reached for the charger plugged into the far outlet.

“You never gave this back,” Taehyun sighs, and before you can refute that you were just about to, he gives you a pointed look with that raised brow of his. “It’s been three days.”

“My bad,” is all you can bring yourself to say, picking up your mascara wand again as you go back to applying your makeup carefully— but it’s hard to concentrate, especially with the way Taehyun continues to linger behind you, able to feel his warmth due to how close he is— and you glance over your shoulder, scanning him up and down before you’re turning back to your vanity, “is there something else I can help you with?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“What, the whole why are you dressed like that thing? Are you seriously expecting an answer to that?” you ask, putting your mascara away as you move to your lips instead, “It’s nothing new, I don’t know why you’re so fixated on that right now.”

“Nothing new?” Taehyun repeats, and through the reflection of the mirror, you’re able to catch the way he frowns in disbelief and scans you once more. “You never dress like this for house parties.”

“Hmm,” you hum softly, doing your final touch ups before you’re standing abruptly, spinning around to face Taehyun with a pout, “it’s the skirt right? It’s throwing the whole thing off.”

Taehyun watches as you push past him and head straight to your closet; glancing over your shoulder and nodding at him to sit on your bed, turning back around before you can catch the way he hesitantly follows your command— and you’re turning back around with three more garments in your hand, each option smaller than the one before— the sight has his brows jumping briefly.

“I was thinking this one at first— I think the darker denim is cuter though, like this one,” you press each skirt to your waist, peeking at yourself in your body length mirror before you switch to the next option; again, you’re pouting and shaking your head, throwing the first two options aside before you’re turning around to show Taehyun the last option proudly.

“But actually, I think this one is the one— look at the pockets, they’re sooo cute,” you smile, flipping the garment over to show him— and indeed, they’re blinged out and sparkly, just like the rest of you; you hold it against your waist, checking yourself out in the mirror with satisfaction.

“That— that barely covers you.”

“So?” you effortlessly reply, tilting your head and meeting Taehyun’s gaze through the mirror; dramatically, you gasp, mouth falling open and brows rising as you proceed to blatantly mock him, “Oh, is this too scandalous for you? Sorry, I forget you’re a bit more… reserved. It’s okay, you don’t have to stay in here if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You’re biting your tongue as you listen to Taehyun sputter behind you in confusion; through the corner of your eye, you’re able to watch as his brows knit together, leaning forward and tilting his head as he struggles to find a response.

“Where the hell did you get that from?”

“Oh,” you trail off, tsking awkwardly and amping up your dramatics as you pause— Looking over your shoulder, you meet Taehyun’s prying gaze, returning it with a faux apologetic smile. “Y’knoww… Yeonjun told me. About you.”

If anything, that only serves to confuse Taehyun even more— and worry him, if the way he stares off into space, visibly deep in thought, serves as any indicator.

“What did he tell you,” Taehyun mutters, the question more directed to himself as he racks his mind for possible answers— but you beat him to it, continuing your efforts to keep a poker face as you shrug innocently.

“Just… about you. Relationships, experience…” and you’re turning your back to him, muttering the last part and taking in the way Taehyun leans forward even more to catch what slips out your mouth, “or, lack thereof.”

“Excuse me?”

“We were talking about our own stuff and you kinda just came up in the conversation randomly!” you say defensively, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of! It’s okay to shy away from… this lifestyle, or whatever you like to call it— there’s nothing wrong with being your little introverted self, tyunnie.”

You’re provoking him— you’re setting up quite the bait, and it’s working, because Taehyun can only find himself able to gawk at you in disbelief, mouth parted slightly in wonder of it all— your cute nickname flies over his head in favor of processing the fact that you basically just called him a homebody. A virgin.

Just when Taehyun thinks he’s found the words to respond to such an outlandish accusation, your phone dings with a notification— you’re all but bouncing over to it excitedly, hovering over the device and letting out a soft ah! In excitement— sending Taehyun a pleading smile, he’s already able to guess what you’ll ask of him.

“Junie’s here! Can you please please please go answer the door for me? I need to change.” you watch Taehyun hesitate for a moment; he then nods reluctantly, getting up slowly before he trudges out of your room, your words still bouncing around the walls of his mind as you shut the door and yell out a cute thank you! As you do.

Taehyun opens the front door to find an equally flashy Yeonjun on the other side— the sight of his over the top outfit is enough to catch Taehyun off guard and have all his thoughts tumbling out of his mouth without restraint.

“Did you tell her I was a virgin?”

Yeonjun’s brows jump up in disbelief— he’s halting mid step through the doorway, sending Taehyun a confused look before he steps inside and closes the door behind him— looking at his friend for further explanation, Yeonjun is only met with Taehyun crossing his arms with an expectant look.

“Dude. What the hell are you on about.”

“Why is ___ acting like I’m a total prude— saying you told her I was inexperienced,” Taehyun isn’t exactly sure why tonight’s comment was what set him off— you’ve been like this for as long as he could remember, always portraying Taehyun as someone pure, innocent, and stuck-up— he always thought you were joking, but as it turns out, that might not be the case.

“Oh— she’s probably not being serious, don’t worry,” Yeonjun shrugs, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, craning his neck to try and get a glance down the hallway, seeing if you’re finally ready— you’re nowhere to be seen, and Yeonjun sighs impatiently.

“Okay, but what did you say to her?” Taehyun presses on, eyes narrowing at the sight of Yeonjun pressing his lips together hesitantly, “Yeonjun.”

“I just said that it’s… rare to ever see you get interested in anyone,” Yeonjun pouts, but Taehyun can tell that’s not the full truth— Yeonjun caves in after a moment, gulping softly and lowering his voice to nothing but a murmur, “and that she should stop flirting with you, cause you wouldn’t even know how to handle all that.”

“You what?!”

“Yeonjunnie, what do you think?” your voice is sweet and lilted as you finally come out of your room, interrupting Taehyun’s heated outburst with your jingling jewelry— the two men are turning over to you, Taehyun too busy taking in your appearance to notice Yeonjun sighing in relief at your well-timed interruption.

“So?” you ask, doing a cute spin that has Taehyun’s eyes widening and his hands clenching— yeah, that skirt was practically a belt, your pretty skin lotioned up and shining under the lights, the spin only allowing him to get a perfect whiff of your addicting scent, “Y’think I can get Jake’s attention with this?”

The name has Taehyun frowning before he can even process it— behind him, Yeonjun whistles at your dolled-up self, doing a once over as he proceeds to hype you up.

“Are you kidding? I’m gonna have to fend you off from everyone in that place,” he says, reaching out for your hand and grinning at the way you giggle and take it, your fingers interlacing naturally, “he’s gonna be all over you.”

“Jake? You can’t actually be attracted to that douchebag,” Taehyun frowns, watching the way your expression immediately drops at his comment.

“I am, actually. It’s nothing serious, just a hook up at most,” you roll your eyes, voice turning undeniably bitter as you bend down to slip on your shoes, the sight of your panties peeking out from the skirt, tucked neatly between your thighs not lost on Taehyun, “Plus, I heard he really knows how to treat a woman.”

Taehyun’s gaze snaps up to meet Yeonjun’s; his glare is lethal enough to kill, and the recipient can only shrug sheepishly in return.

“Sleep well Taehyun,” you remark, clearly poking fun at the fact that Taehyun usually sleeps much earlier than you, never failing to call him a grandpa for it, (which is ridiculous, considering that you barely sleep.) “You don’t have to worry about me— probably won’t be home tonight.”

You’re closing the door and dragging Yeonjun with you before Taehyun can respond, probably off to pregame outside while you wait for your uber; he’s left staring at the spot you just stood at, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed in anger— a minute goes by, and something decidedly shifts within Taehyun.

He’s gotta do something about this image you have of him. He should probably fix that attitude of yours too, while he’s at it.

☆☆☆

“Where the hell is he?” it’s something you seem to have asked for the umpteenth time tonight, leaning against the wall and pouting at your friend while you stand in line for the bathroom— you’ve been at the party for a solid hour now, and you still have yet to see Jake around. And to think, he was the one who invited you to his place in the first place. How rude.

“I told you not to give him a chance!” Yeonjun yells, leaning in closer so you can actually hear him through the booming music and the crowds of people singing along to whatever’s blasting from the living room, “this party fucking sucks, too.”

You can only exaggerate your pout further with a petulant humph. Your body slouches and you can already feel your heart getting heavy with disappointment, unable to refute the way your best friend proceeds to mutter something about Jake probably being too busy sucking off another girl’s face in a random room of the house.

“You never gave in to his advances— you said he was a man-whore,” Yeonjun continues to recall, wincing at the sight of two random girls rushing past him and to the front of the line, carrying their clearly shit-faced friend and screaming about how she’s going to throw up all over— the two of you cringe, exchanging a glance and mutually agreeing that you two can hold it a little more; you slowly trudge your way back to where everyone else is. “What changed? Why’d you give in?”

You scoff, lips upturned with distaste as you send your friend a glare— the wound still as fresh as ever, voice dripping with venom as you lean close to Yeonjun’s ear so he can actually hear you.

“Junnie, you know why!” you whine, smacking his shoulder and ignoring the way he childishly yelps, “I’ve officially decided to move on— I can’t stand flirting with a brick wall anymore, I need to… need to…”

You’re trailing off, gaze wandering off to a foreign point, Yeonjun’s brows furrowing before he begins to follow your line of sight— and just like you, Yeonjun remains speechless, the unexpected sight leaving your jaws gaping.

“This can’t be real.”

But it is. The way Taehyun is currently leaning casually against the wall, drink in hand and coy smile on his face as he talks to some random girl, is very real. You can recognize that man anywhere— even in this crowded room of dancing and jumping bodies, your eyes still remain glued to him.

But, the more you look at him, the more you realize something— he looks… different. It’s subtle, but it’s still there; the mischievous glint in his eyes, his relaxed posture and the hair that falls into his eyes, he has a confident, sly air to him you’ve never seen before— the girl leans up on her tippy-toes to whisper something in his ear, a hand on his shoulder to get stabilized, and the two laugh; your mind is too preoccupied with the way her hand lingers, the way Taehyun tilts his head in amusement, to realize the frown that has pulled your face together.

Taehyun brings the can of beer in his hand to his lips— he turns his head, and his eyes find yours effortlessly.

“He actually came,” Yeonjun awes beside you, and that’s enough to have your head whipping toward him, trying to ignore the way your face burns at the sudden eye contact, still able to feel his eyes linger on you for a moment after.

“What are you talking about? Did you give him the address?” you say, your voice whiny as you speak, surprised to find that you’re not exactly sure how to feel at his sudden appearance— torn between the sudden interest he piqued within you and the disappointment that festeres in your stomach, knowing that now that Taehyun is here, you won’t think twice to give anyone else any attention.

“Hmm? No, he was invited,” Yeonjun says, glancing back to where Taehyun is, looking back to find your confused expression, “him and Jake go way back.”

You’re kidding.

“Nope. Those two were fucking menaces,” Yeonjun laughs— it seems as though the words must’ve slipped out of your mouth, the shock painted on your face more amusing to your friend than anything, “they used to host the craziest parties— now that I think about it though, that was probably all Taehyun’s work.”

“Wait… don’t tell me that…” you glance over to where Taehyun remains, then glance back at Yeonjun, reading his expression carefully and gasping, “was Jake Taehyun’s old roommate?”

Yeonjun nods, as though the news wasn’t earth-shattering to you.

“After a while, I guess Taehyun just didn’t feel like keeping up with the fast life… I don’t blame him though.” Yeonjun shrugs, his eyes beginning to drift behind you, drawing you to turn around at the sound of the crowd on the dance floor cheering and yelling obnoxiously— and sure enough, Jake can be seen in the middle of a circle, flashlights of phone cameras recording lighting him up clear as day— you wince at the sight of a random girl dancing up on him, the sight leaving you to shudder and wonder why you were even gonna give him the time of day.

Ah, right.

“I can’t believe I was about to rebound on him with an old friend,” you breathe out, bristling at the sound of Yeonjun’s laughter, whipping your head around to send him a harsh glare, “and you were going to let me!”

Yeonjun raises his hands up defensively.

“Hey, I was just being a good friend,” he says, but with the way he smiles mischievously, you don’t buy it a bit. “I support women’s wrongs, or whatever.”

“You prick,” you mutter miserably, gaze inevitably wandering back to where Taehyun remains; frowning at them now being visibly closer, Taehyun’s hand resting leisurely on the girl’s waist as they talk.

And again, his eyes flicker back to meet yours.

“You know, he’s only here for you,” Yeonjun murmurs in your ear, watching your interactions like a spectacle, “he doesn’t care about that girl— probably just trying to get you jealous.”

“Stop lying,” you say, but your voice is weak and your brain is susceptible to his words; you tell him to shut up, but the way you perk up with interest is saying otherwise.

“If I’m lying, then why is he giving you fuck me eyes?”

As if on queue, Taehyun glances back again— his gaze is dark and inviting, scanning you slowly before he turns back to the unknown girl— and his eyes soften; they’re less intense, aloof, clearly uninterested. The final piece of your resolve crumbles to pieces.

“I think I’m about to do something stupid,” you say sheepishly, eyes still glued on the man across the room; beside you, Yeonjun chuckles.

“Do it,” he says, giving your back an encouraging push, sending you stumbling forward, “I support it.”

You don’t bother looking back at your friend for one last word of reassurance— your feet have begun to take you before you could even stop and think.

You’re pushing through bodies; it’s crowded and hot and sweaty, cringing and jumping at the feeling of hands brushing against your bare skin— whether it be intentional or not, you try not to dwell on it, honed in on your goal instead.

It takes a moment for you to finally find yourself on the other side of the crowd— but you’ve lost Taehyun, eyes darting back to where he was just a second ago, frowning and scanning the area for the familiar man— he’s nowhere to be found.

You’ve begun to wander around— exploring the layout carefully, eventually abandoning the living room and making your way into the kitchen instead— and like before, you’re unable to find Taehyun, growing increasingly frustrated the longer it takes to find him; it isn’t until you’re making your way to the back porch that you finally spot a familiar, broad frame leaning against the railing.

“Taehyun,” you call out, the said man not flinching at the sound of his name; his back remains turned to you, but he listens to the sound of your nearing footsteps and your jingling jewelry, the scent of your perfume following soon after; you’re standing behind him, hands undoubtedly on your hips and a pout on your face as you speak. “What are you doing here?”

He huffs out a soft chuckle— his relaxed, slouched posture only serves to annoy you, going to stand next to him so you can get a good look at his face— you try to hide the shock that’s blooming on your face, but then again, you’ve never been good at hiding your emotions.

Taehyun cracks a small, lopsided smile; your eyes are wide and you seem like a deer caught in headlights, watching with fascination as Taehyun continues his attempts to light up the joint caught in his lips— your mouth is falling open to say something, but you’re closing it immediately after; this proceeds to repeat for a few seconds more, only able to find your words once you’ve watched Taehyun take a relaxed, languid hit.

“You… you smoke?” you ask softly, unsure of what else to say as you stand staring at Taehyun dumbly— he raises a brow in amusement, pulling the joint away from his lips and turning to blow the smoke out into the night— it’s a slow, deep sigh, and you’re left in awe as you watch the smoke fall from his parted lips and disappear into the air; his eyes fall back on you, and you gulp.

“Yeah?” he says casually, turning so that he’s leaning his side against the railing, tilting his head and drinking up your every reaction eagerly. “What about it?”

Now that you’re before him, you’re finally able to get a proper look at Taehyun— a good look, unable to stop your eyes from wandering; he’s wearing that usual baggy tee and cargo pants combo that he’s so fond of, but even so, everything just feels so different; his undercut is styled cleanly, his nimble fingers glint with the aid of silver rings, a chain hanging from his neck to match— his tan skin glows under the single light placed on the porch and fuck, has he always smelled this good?

“Nothing, it’s just—” you stop yourself, biting your lip and thinking carefully over what to say; Taehyun quirks up a brow curiously, bringing his hand back up to his lips, taking another slow drag from the joint, watching the end light up before he pulls away— and you huff, hands gesturing hopelessly as you find yourself unable to properly articulate your thoughts, not when he’s staring at you so intensely, “Where did all… this, come from?”

Taehyun doesn’t answer; he simply stares at you with amused eyes. So, you continue.

“You’re always judging me for going to parties, now you’re here? And—” you stammer, pointing at the joint between his fingers in confusion, “I’ve always asked if you wanted to smoke together, and you always said no.”

Gently, your voice trails off— and suddenly, any confidence you had when you initially approached Taehyun is wilting, your gaze averting as you begin to recount his behavior, his words, everything.

“Do you hate me or something?”

Your words are accusatory and petulant; the question is meant to be lighthearted, but Taehyun can tell there is some genuineness to it.

It’s silent; you’re tense. Your gaze remains glued to some distant irrelevant point, finding yourself too nervous to look up at Taehyun’s reaction to your sudden outburst— but nothing happens. Seconds feel like hours, and after what feels like eternity, a hand is gently reaching to tilt your chin up; your gaze meets Taehyun’s, and he smiles— his other hand slowly comes up your face, the joint centimeters away from your lips.

“Wanna hit?”

His evasion to your question is not lost on you. Bitterly, you chuckle, reaching up to take the joint from him— but he’s pulling it away from you before you can grab it, tutting softly and placing it back at your lips; you reach for it again, but this time, Taehyun grabs your wrist to stop you. He taps the joint against your lips and raises his brows expectantly— what he’s asking of you finally clicks in your mind; your lips part, and he holds the joint for you as you inhale.

Taehyun watches you with dark, intent eyes— as though analyzing every move you make, from the way you lean your head forward to the way your eyes flicker up nervously to look up at him— your face is oddly innocent and shy, feeling a lot smaller under the man’s gaze as you finally pull away; you’re exhaling slowly, your mouth slightly bitter from the taste as your swallow nervously.

“So? Are you just gonna ignore all my questions?” you ask softly, suddenly feeling a lot weaker as you lean on the railing, crossing your arms and watching Taehyun bring the joint back to his lips— the edges of his mouth quirk up at the sticky feeling of your lip gloss that lingers on it.

“Well… first of all… I’ve been like this, you just met me during the time I decided to back off and change my ways,” Taehyun jokes, the joint still caught between his lips as he speaks, hanging precariously, “and second of all, I definitely don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?” you ask hopefully, doe eyes lighting up and your hand subconsciously reaching out to ask for the joint; he chuckles and hands it to you, shaking his head and watching you take a long hit with a raised brow.

“No. You’re just annoying,” he mutters, watching the way you bristle with annoyance, “what? It’s true. You drive me crazy, always forcing me to take care of your reckless ass.”

“Seriously? I literally don’t do anything to you— you’re the one who always decides to get involved,” you sneer, your snarky attitude finally back as you glare at an unfazed Taehyun; your eyes run over his appearance once more, unable to control your childish mouth as you continue, “even now— you come here out of nowhere and suddenly you’re all badass.”

“Are you trying to prove me wrong? You gonna go find some girl to bring back to the apartment?” you pout at him, taking one last hit from the joint and smiling wickedly, “I wouldn’t mind if you did, there won’t be anyone else home anyway— I have the same plans as you tonight, remember?”

Your back is suddenly pressed against the railing; Taehyun is close, he’s pressing against you, caging you in and looking down at you with a gaze that makes you feel small— your skin warms and your eyes widen, unsure of what else to do but stand there and take the way he smiles meanly at you.

“Yeah? Where is Jake, anyway?” he asks, taking the joint from your hands and placing it between his own lips, hand steadying himself against the railing as the other suddenly lands on your bare thigh, just below your ass; you jolt at the feeling, his eyes flickering down at your outfit, at the tiny pieces that barely leave any room to the imagination; his skin is warm but his rings are cool against you, fingertips barely digging into the flesh, “or wait— is it not your turn yet?”

Your body flushes with an unexpected heat; his voice is downright degrading, his eyes filled with pity, telling you things that his mouth doesn’t have to— look at you, all dressed up for a man who hasn’t even looked your way tonight.

He looks at you as though you were nothing short of pathetic; it makes your knees feel weak and your stomach flip with an unexpected need.

“Jake isn’t worth my time,” you confess, watching as Taehyun raises his brows as though to say oh really? “I can easily find someone better than him.”

“You could,” he muses, voice mocking and coy, taking another small hit before he speaks, “but who?”

“I— I’m sure there are plenty of other guys here right now,” you breath out, heart thundering in your chest; Taehyun’s face is close, so close, your bodies slowly beginning to get firmly pressed together— your brain is starting to feel foggy, your limbs suddenly much heavier and tingly; your eyes feel heavy and you’re beginning to list off names absentmindedly, all of men who you spotted in the party, all with a reputation as equally notorious as Jake’s.

“Heesung’s in there… and Sunghoon… and…” Taehyun is giving a big nod to every name you list; he’s patronizing you, staring at you with deceivingly big puppy eyes as he hums a soft mmhmm, and who else? His eyes never leaving yours as you both try to pretend that you don’t notice his lips inching closer to yours, the way every exhale of smoke from him goes directly into your parted lips, your voice breathy and weak as you hold back a whimper that threatens to slip through, “And… fuck, and Beomgyu’s in there too… he wanted to come to the party together, y’know. Said we should go to his place after.”

“Hmm, you’ve got quite a few options lined up,” Taehyun hums, his voice sweet and light to your ears, a shuddered sigh leaving you as his hand squeezes your skin teasingly, caressing it softly and wandering up and down, up and down; he tilts his head, low lidded eyes glued to your lips as he murmurs the last part so softly you almost missed it, “but would any of them be able to fuck you right?”

Your mind reels; your chest is heaving with shallow breaths, the two of you stuck in a state of limbo as you feel yourself get lost in the feeling of him, unaware of the way your eyes have begun to gloss over, your hand reaching out to steady yourself on his bicep— your fingers wrap around the thick muscle, and his hand slides up your leg, bold and strong as he squeezes your ass— a soft whine slips out.

“Well?” he asks again, unable to hold back a lethargic, fond smile at the way your other hand reaches up for the joint that’s still between his lips, putting it between your own, pretty glossed lips begging to be devoured— after a second, you shake your head softly, turning your head to the side and sighing slowly; with your eyes averted, you finally decide to bite the bullet.

“No,” you say softly, “don’t want any of them anyway.”

“Then who do you want?” he asks oh so softly, leaning in to place a soft kiss at your jaw; goosebumps erupt all over your skin, and you shudder at the way he hums softly in question, persisting after seeing you get hesitant to respond— after what feels like forever, you turn to look at him; his low lidded eyes, his plump lips— and your nails dig into his bicep subconsciously.

“You.”

There’s no chance for you to take back your words; Taehyun’s lips are rough and desperate against yours, all teeth and tongue as he groans at the feeling of your sticky gloss transferring onto him, your soft whines only aiding him to press himself more against you, to really cage you in and keep you right where he wants you. He’s biting your lip teasingly, sneaking his tongue in and toying with you, feeling him smile lazily against your mouth, wandering hand continuing to caress your skin, fingertips venturing under the hem of your tight denim skirt.

After a while, it becomes too much— your body feels hot, your hand is gripping onto him tightly, as though he could escape if you let him go— your lungs burn and you’re barely able to keep up with him anymore, but Taehyun doesn’t seem to mind; you’re whining and crying softly at the way he continues to squeeze your ass teasingly, jolting at the way he suddenly slaps it— your fingers jump up to tangle themselves into his roots, tugging roughly at them in hopes of getting him to part from you; he seems to understand what you want, but he continues to ravish you for a few seconds more before he finally pulls away.

In Taehyun’s eyes, this is the best you’ve looked all night; out of breath and flushed, pressed between the railing and his body, his cock already half-hard as he wills himself to not rut against your soft exposed skin like an animal— his hand leaves the railing to grab onto your waist, the other reaching for the joint that is still in your weak hold— he inspects the half-smoked, almost extinguished item before he looks back at you; a small, mischievous grin spreads on his lips, and he slips a thigh between your legs.

“Taehyun…!” you gasp, bouncing up as Taehyun presses the firm muscle against your poor dripping pussy; your panties stick to your cunt and quickly create a wet patch on Taehyun’s jeans, and he can already feel the warmth of you through the denim— your thighs close around his own shakily, your free hand grabbing onto his shoulder for support; the glassy, wide eyed look you give him is almost enough to make Taehyun lose it and fuck you then and there.

“Hmm? What’s up,” Taehyun asks apathetically, fishing in his pocket for his lighter, letting go of your waist to relight the joint with a dark, concentrated gaze; his thigh continues to move against you, flexing and bouncing against your cunt, and all you can do is cry softly and plead for him to stop teasing— his lips quirk up into a mean smile, and his eyes flicker back up to your hazy, fucked out face, tucking the lighter back in his pocket and tilting his head curiously at you.

“What do you want, baby?” he asks softly, bringing the joint to his lips and taking a long, slow hit, his eyes never leaving yours as he does.

“Please… please stop teasing,” you whine, and judging by the way Taehyun raises a brow at that, it’s not enough; his thigh has stopped moving, so you resort to grinding pitifully against it, eyes shining with a desperation that intrigues him, “not enough… need more.”

He huffs; his hand comes up to grab your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks and forcing you to open— you follow his command without a second thought, the last thing you see as your eyes flutter shut being Taehyun leaning in, his own mouth an inch away from yours as he exhales the smoke directly into your mouth.

“Oh yeah? Want it?” he murmurs, feeling you nod in his hold, “tell me then. Tell me how you want it.”

“I— I…” words seem to have escaped you; it’s hard to find the confidence to tell him what you want, the world around you a blurry and lethargic mess, your senses heightened to only feel Taehyun, his skin on yours, his rings that dig into your cheek, his warm thigh that you grind against— peeking through your low lidded eyes, you watch him shake his head disappointedly, taking another hit and proceeding to blow out the smoke into your awaiting mouth once more.

“C’mon baby, use your words. I know you can,” he insists patiently, clicking his tongue and scolding you as you proceed to blank out once more; his fingertips dig into your cheeks roughly, blunt nails threatening to leave indents as he forces you to look at him.

“Want it rough? Want it hard?” he spits out, listening to your whiny mmhmm, mmhmm! with narrowed eyes, and he laughs— it’s mean and condescending, just like his next words, “fucking slut, ‘course you do.”

He’s capturing your lips in another harsh kiss before you can protest; the joint in his hand is snuffed out on the fence and tucked away, his hands falling onto your hips as he begins to press you firmly against him, guiding your pace entirely and forcing you to ride his thigh; you whine and you moan against his lips, fingers tugging at his hair as you grind your soaked cunt against his jeans— when Taehyun pulls away, your lips chase his without a second thought, hands tightening your hold against him in fear that he’ll leave.

“You want it?” he asks once more, bouncing his thigh against your messy cunt, grinning at the way you yelp, “Tell me baby, go on, say it; tell me you want it.”

He won’t let you go quite easily this time. Sharp, intense eyes prying the words out of you, brows furrowing together at the weak, quiet attempts that come from you, fingers leaving a bruising grip on you as he silently commands for more.

“Taehyun, c’mon…” you pout, an embarrassed heat rising up your face, not used to seeing this side of him— you didn’t even know it existed, to be fair, “I want it, please, stop being a tease.”

Taehyun has you regretting your words in the blink of an eye; hand pressing the small of your back, forcing you to arch and proceeding to land a harsh smack on your ass that has you gasping, the skin stinging from the feeling of the rough metal of his rings landing on it— but his hand doesn’t fail to caress the place soothingly, a total contrast to the ruthless glare he gives you.

“A tease?” he sneers, landing another, gentler smack, as though the words are enough to get him angry all over again.

“You mean like when you were showing off this cute little skirt to me? Hmmm? Bending down and showing me your panties? Or when you were talking about getting fucked by my friends?” he can feel you tremble against his hold, your mouth opening to retaliate— but you’re not quick enough, Taehyun’s smart mouth running faster than yours, “Or how ‘bout when you force me to watch you run off to parties and bring a man over to your room, just to have me take care of you in the mornings? Is that what you mean by a tease?”

You shake your head, scrambling to come up with a response; Taehyun seems to have gotten quite fed up with you, because his hand is coming up to wrap around your neck, adding a subtle pressure that leaves you light headed and mushy.

“What, can’t talk now? What happened to that mouthy girl I had here earlier?” Taehyun says, his voice mean and dripping with venom, “tell me you want it, or I’ll leave you here— you said you had some other toys to fuck with inside, right? I’m sure they could help give you what you want.”

“No, no, please, I want it, need it,” you cry, attempting to chase any pleasure and grind your cunt against him; you’re quickly stopped by his firm, bruising hand, “Taehyun, Taehyun, please, please fuck me, I want you, please?”

“I don’t know,” he mutters lowly, eyes glued to the way your hips buck and cant, trying desperately to break free from his hold that prevents you from moving, “think you deserve it?”

“Yes,” you immediately sigh, body restless and hot and overwhelmingly needy, feeling as though you’ve gotten tunnel vision for the man before you; your hand slips from his shoulder and down his chest, finding the hardened bulge that has been pressing against your body with ease— his jaw clenches, and his face remains stoic— but that doesn’t mean you don’t notice the way his lips part or his hips press against your palm reassuringly, “yes– give it to me, want it, only wanted you from the start.”

“Fuck,” he breathes out, heavy eyes locked onto the way you look up at him so prettily, your hand palming and rubbing at his clothed cock only serving to cloud his thoughts further, “C’mon.”

He’s stealing one last slow, messy kiss from you before he pulls away; fingers intertwined with yours, stepping back and proceeding to tug you along— you stumble at the sudden action, your airy self giggling softly at the way you tumble into Taehyun’s broad back; he sends you a fond smile, squeezing your hand reassuringly before he’s opening the door to the house and leading you back inside.

It feels as though the whole environment of the party has changed; the neon lights, blasting music and humid air is a little more welcomed than it was before, unable to contain the dopey smile that grows on your face as you allow Taehyun to lead you wherever; you trust him.

“Wherever” leads you to a bedroom upstairs— Taehyun is slamming the door shut and grabbing your waist, spinning you around and pinning you against the wall before you can even react; his face is inches from yours as he mutters a safeword for the two of you, waiting for you to nod and repeat it back before his lips are back on yours— but this time, he seems to want to take his time with you; plump, swollen lips beginning to trail along your jaw, wandering until he’s peppering kisses along your neck, teasing mouth nipping and sucking at your jaw until you’re holding onto his shoulders and begging for more.

Slowly, he begins to walk the two of you backwards; lips never leaving yours, hands caressing your skin and toying with the hem of your shirt as he sits down on the bed, making you stand between his legs— pulling away, you put your hands on Taehyun’s firm shoulders, sighing shakily at the way he looks at you; as though he were holding back from devouring you entirely, a fondness that makes you weak in the knees undeniably there in his pupils.

“Fuck, pretty girl, pretty body,” he breathes, leaning forward to pepper kisses wherever he can— pushing your shirt up to expose your chest, burying his head in your tits and placing open mouthed kisses, biting teasingly at the flesh, chuckling at the feeling of you jolting and jutting your chest out, your body much more reactive and sensitive— and he trails down slowly, down the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, lingering there for a bit as he kisses and sucks marks into the vast canvas; his hands trail up and down your sides, pulling you in every time you try to squirm away.

“What, you getting shy on me now?” he tuts, nipping at your side and listening to the squeal that escapes you— his hands tighten and he’s forcing you forward, leaning back until he’s laying down and you’re straddling him precariously; your knees dig into the mattress and you’re trying your best to remain stable, but Taehyun doesn’t seem to be satisfied yet— you frown in confusion at the feeling of him trying to tug your hips up more, resisting the motion with a tilt of your head; Taehyun pouts.

“Don’t be like that,” he groans, hands shifting from your hips to the back of your thighs, one cupping your ass and the other falling just below— and you yelp, Taehyun’s muscles flexing as he moves you up forcefully, much too strong for you to retaliate; you’re tumbling down, face burning and planting into the mattress as Taehyun shifts below you— your dripping cunt hovering just above his face, skirt riding up and bunching at your hips, any whines of protests falling on deaf ears as he begins to press soft kisses on your inner thighs.

“T–Taehyun, wait, you don’t—” you stutter through moans, fingers gripping onto the sheets below you as you feel him beginning to trail up, your body revealing just how much you don’t mean your words, “you don’t have to— mmh–!”

His hands are coming up to your middle, pulling and signaling for you to sit up; you do, partly from your own efforts but mostly from his, easily moving you as though you were nothing but a doll— and your cunt is hovering over his face, hungry eyes flickering up to meet yours— he sees the hesitation on your face, the way you’re beginning to ramble once more, and he scoffs; the smack that lands on the back of your thigh is enough to get you to stop mid sentence.

“Just shut up and let me taste you,” he says sternly; his fingers dig into your hips and he’s tugging you down, sneering at the way you continue to hesitate, only allowing yourself to hover over him— he bites at your inner thigh in retaliation, the sensitive feeling bringing out a cry from you, hips bucking and thighs squeezing around his head for a second, “C’mon baby, sit on my face— I can take it, you know I can.”

The hesitant hum you let out is enough for him; he rolls his eyes, and with a strength you forgot he possessed, he forces you to plant your cunt directly onto him.

It feels like a switch has flipped within him. Fuck, you think, your lips parted in a silent scream, a hand scrambling to tangle itself in his hair, fuck!

He hasn’t even bothered to move your panties to the side; he’s eating you out through them, tongue pushing into your hole and lips kissing and sucking at your clit like a man starved, groaning and praising you with a muffled voice; his fingers dig into your ass, making sure to keep you planted firmly on his face as he eats you out.

You think you’re losing your fucking mind.

Just when you thought it was too much, that your body felt like it was buzzing with electricity, filled with a euphoria and pleasure that had you mewling and crying desperately, Taehyun’s nimble fingers finally push the ruined cloth that covers your pussy to the side— and oh, oh, your eyes are rolling back and your mouth is stuck open, Taehyun’s hot tongue lapping and fucking into your hole and his nose pressing firmly into your clit— he’s panting and sighing against your cunt, slurping up any arousal that leaks from your poor hole— his head shakes from side to side, humming into your pussy, and the last bit of resolve within you shatters.

“Taehyun— oh my god, Taehyun—!” you cry, hips grinding down into him, thighs closing around his head; you can feel him fucking smiling lazily into your pussy, rough hand slapping your ass and guiding your movements against him, as though to silently reassure you and ask for more. “Please— oh god, oh— fuckfuckfuck, m’close, I’m close, hnng—!”

Your words are nothing but fuel to the man beneath you— his tongue is flattening against your hole, licking up and flicking at your clit before he begins to suck on it; two fingers prod at your clenching entrance, proceeding to push in without warning, curling expertly and finding your sweet spot with ease; your body shivers and you wail, muscles growing weak as you fall forward once more— burying your head in your arms as you cry about how close you are, the new position only allowing Taehyun to move your hips firmly against him, rocking you back into him; his fingers pull out of your cunt in favor of shoving his tongue back in instead, following every buck and twitch of your hips with ease— his nails dig into your skin as he holds you still, eliciting a dull feeling of pain, and everything falls apart.

Too much, too much! you think— maybe you say it out loud, your mouth open and gasping as you grip onto the bed sheets, feeling as Taehyun continues his same, intense ministrations; letting you ride out your orgasm but not stopping, even after you’ve begun to sniffle and cry about how sensitive you feel— after a while, Taehyun finally gives in, pulling away from your cunt to lick you clean, pressing firm, sloppy kisses against your hole and puffy clit, smiling at the way you twitch with each one.

You feel as though your bones have all melted; you can’t move, face burrowed into the mattress and chest heaving as you try to catch your breath— beneath you, Taehyun moves, slipping out from under you and hovering behind, hungry eyes taking in the sight before him eagerly; ass up and back arched, glistening hole on display as you continue to shudder and breathe shakily— you hear the sound of clothes rustling behind you, followed by the feeling of the bed dipping— Taehyun’s hand rubs at your ass fondly, and you jump at the sudden sensation, eyes screwing shut and a quiet whine leaving you.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Taehyun sighs, biting at his lip and stroking your skin, up your back and to your shoulders, leaning over and kissing gently at the nape of your neck as he whispers, “think you can take more?”

“Yes– yeah, please,” you beg quietly, unable to feel an ounce of shame from how immediate your response is; you can feel his cock rubbing against your ass, the stickiness of his tip that ruts against you subtly— you look over your shoulder with a hazy eyes and a soft, blissful smile, meeting Taehyun’s equally fucked out gaze as you push your hips back, “wanna feel you inside— I’m on the pill.”

The sharp breath of air Taehyun sucks in isn’t lost on you— his cock jumps from the way you grind against him, no longer able to keep up that cold and uninterested facade he’s kept up since the moment you two met up for the first time— he wants you, bad. And to his delight, you seem to feel the same.

“Jesus, you drive me so fucking crazy,” Taehyun breathes, the soft giggle you let out not helping him remain calm; he sits back, a hand grabbing at your waist and the other wrapping around his length— he’s squeezing the base, pumping at it slowly, the gruff sighs and moans you hear behind you enough to have you clenching around nothing— just when you think you’ll have to beg again, you feel his thick tip begin to prod at your entrance.

You think you could cum from the feeling of him stretching you out alone— a broken moan leaves you at the feeling of him entering inside you, so thick and big that you think he might just break you; your head drops back into the mattress and your hips are pulled back against Taehyun’s, soft cries leaving you at the feeling of him bottomed out inside you.

“P-perfect, so… damn perfect,” Taehyun rasps out, head falling back and eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of you clenching around him— you’re so tight and sensitive, walls fluttering around him and sucking him in, tempting him to lose control and pound you straight into the mattress; he has to take a deep breath and concentrate on not cumming then and there, because the way you’re beginning to whine for more like a cockhungry bitch is really getting to him, “shit– stop— ugh– stop squeezing me like that princess, won’t fucking last long if you do.”

You can only whine in protest at that; it’s so hard to remain still, your hazy mind already fucked out beyond belief from your first orgasm— but even so, you still want more, you crave it, you need it; you make sure that Taehyun is aware of it, too, whiny and breathy as you cry and cry for him to fuck you.

“Tyun, come on,” you pout, impatiently moving your hips back, in search of any stimulation you can get, “please, wanna get fucked already, want it hard, don’t tell me that was all talk earlier.”

If there’s one thing you’ve figured out about Taehyun, it’s that he hates when you try to act up on him— because as he tightens his fingers into your plush skin and slowly begins to pull his hips out, you realize quickly that he’s most definitely not all talk.

“Ah—!”

Your body is being driven forward with each thrust— Taehyun is fucking you hard, muttering angry words that you can’t even pick up over the sound of your own moans; his cock is thick and his hips are angled so his head bumps against your sensitive spot with each thrust, harsh pace not allowing you any reprieve as you simply fall limp, unable to move your hips back in tandem with his pace; if anything, Taehyun is doing it for you, rough hands bringing you back against him like it’s nothing.

“Fucking slut— got such a dirty mouth, should make sure you to fuck you good so you can’t talk back to me,” he growls, feeling you clench like a vice around him, even more when he stops thrusting in favor of pulling you back like a doll for him to use, “Oh, you’d like that huh? Like it when I use you like a toy? Stupid pussy’s nothing more than a fucking cumdump for me— yeah, c’mon, move your hips, thaat’s it, just like that.”

His mouth continues to spew filth, a stark contrast to how Taehyun usually is— he’s always been quieter during sex, but the sight of you trembling and struggling to take his cock is enough for his mouth to run faster than his mind— that, and the aid of his high that seems to have gotten rid of any self-control he usually exhibits.

Your movements have become sluggish and weak— you’re getting tired, he can tell, so with one last slap to your ass that has you yelping, he finally decides to take control again.

“God, can’t even fuck me for more than a few minutes? Where’d that cocky girl from before go, hmm?” He asks, voice patronizing as he begins his harsh thrusts— only pulling out halfway before he’s sinking in all the way, hips slapping against your ass creating a lewd sound; your cunt only tightens and gushes around him, hiccupped moans leaving you as he picks up his pace, watching as your arms give out beneath you and your face gets planted into the mattress; he huffs out a laugh, and reaches out to grab a fistful of your hair— yanking your head back, you yelp, left to his mercy as he begins to pound into your ruthlessly.

“Taehyun, wait– slow down…!” you cry, scratching at the bed sheets and feeling tears prick at your eyes— and he does, for a second, waiting for you to say something else, for the safeword you both agreed on— but you don’t, and the laugh he lets out after catching on is enough to have your face burning with humiliation— and his pace picks back up— no, he’s meaner than before, degrading you below his breath and pulling at your hair, pulling you back against him, a hand sneaking down to place sloppy circles at your clit— you’re keening and clenching like a vice around him, a sharp hiss leaving him at the feeling.

“Mmmh, too… too much,” you manage to say softly, immediately given another harsh tug at your hair in response, your eyes watering at the feeling.

“Too much?” Taehyun repeats, and you can practically hear the pout on his lips from the patronizing tone, “thought you wanted it hard? Don’t tell me it was all talk.”

He’s spitting your exact words back at you, watching with amusement as you try weakly to prove him wrong.

“That’s right. You’ll take it like a good girl should,” he grunts, slowing his pace down and punctuating his words with rough, deep thrusts, “Fucking. Take it. All.”

You’re close, he can feel it, he can hear it— and the thought of watching your pretty face screw up into pleasure and bliss is enough to send Taehyun’s mind reeling, not hesitating to pull out and let go of your body— his lips quirk up with satisfaction at the way you’re immediately falling limp, fucked out face peeking behind in confusion, about to complain about why he stopped when he begins to move you.

It feels dizzying, the way he’s able to manipulate you and force you into any position he likes; you’re sure Taehyun can read it all over your face, because he smiles meanly at you, patting your cheek fondly before he begins to busy himself with your clothes.

“Don’t think I never noticed you staring, pretty,” he grins, tugging your skirt and panties down swiftly, eying the soiled underwear before he throws it off to the side, landing directly on his discarded pile of clothes— and he sends you another sleazy smile that has you bringing your knees up and closing your legs shyly— it’s all futile though, because he’s immediately kneeling before you and spreading your thighs open with his warm, large hands, holding onto the underside of your knees as he scoots closer to you, “always getting so touchy with me, grabbing onto my arms and thighs— dumb little thing, bet you thought you were getting away with it each time, hmm?”

“Shut up,” you whine, resisting the urge to cover your face and hide away— but you really can’t, especially with the way his thick cock ruts against your pussy, tip sliding up and down your slit as he teases you by putting it in, only to pull back out again, “Taehyun…”

“C’mon, grab onto me,” he muses, slipping the tip in once more before he begins to slide in slowly, watching your mouth fall open and your eyes grow glassy, “wanna watch you cum on my cock.”

This new position practically has you seeing stars— Taehyun hovers over you and watches intently, chain hanging over your face as he presses your thighs against your body, fucking you straight into the mattress; you tremble and you gasp, a fire festering in your stomach as you beg for more— “m-more, please, faster, harder, s-shit—!”

Taehyun listens to your every request intently— his stamina is impressive and ruthless, and his cock is reaching and hitting places you never knew were there— your back arches and your hands scramble to grab onto something to stabilize yourself, inevitably falling onto Taehyun’s body in the end; one on his shoulder, the other on his bicep that flexes from the effort of keeping your squirming body still.

“So… fucking… pretty,” Taehyun groans, watching your chest heave and your eyes blink away tears, leaning down to suck and bite at your breast, frowning at the bra that still covers them— throwing a leg over his shoulder, Taehyun pulls your bra up roughly, hips continuing to pound against yours as he latches his mouth onto your pretty nipples— you gasp, nails digging into his skin as you begin to cry to him, good, s-so good, fuck!

“Shit, I’m close,” he says after a moment, pulling off your breasts with a lewd pop! That has your eyes rolling back; he moves up to press a sloppy kiss to your lips, murmuring your name sweetly and waiting for you to respond. “I’m close baby, so– so fucking close– where— hah, where do you want it?”

“Inside,” you immediately mewl, hearing him groan unabashedly in response, “Please, pleasepleaseplease, inside, inside—! Fill me, want your cum, wanna be full—!”

“Okay baby, okay,” he says sweetly, kissing at your neck and wandering up to your ear, “gonna fill you up good, just like you want.”

“Oh, are you close too?” he asks, and you nod furiously, watching as he goes back to hover over you, watching every change in your expression intently, “I can feel it, pretty cunt’s squeezing me so good– c’mon, cum for me baby, wanna see it, wanna watch your pretty face, will you let me? Yeah, only for me to see— gonna cum, fuck, make you mine, you’re mine only, okay?”

His words are enough to send you over the edge; you let out a long whine and scratch at his skin, crying out his name desperately as your nails rake down his back, down his arm; he hisses at the feeling, the pain enough to set him off and join you right after; his hips stutter and his face screws up from the pleasure, brows knitting together and teeth gritting together as he lets out soft moans— but his eyes never leave yours, deft fingers circling your clit as he lets you ride out your orgasm— your legs tremble under his hold, eyes rolling back and face smoothing out from the pure euphoria you feel.

“Yours… just yours,” you sigh out, feeling his hips finally still, thick cum beginning to leak out from you, falling onto the sheets and ruining them completely; you pant and try to regain composure, but it’s really, really hard— you feel like you’re on cloud nine, words tumbling past your lips before you can second guess them, “y’have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that.”

“Really?” he asks; the panic you feel in your chest is short-lived, because as soon as you see the soft look in Taehyun’s eyes, you melt.

“Yeah…” you say softly, suddenly a lot more shy under his gaze, “this was like. Attempt number one hundred of me trying to get over you. Or make you jealous.”

“Hmm… well, you don’t have to do that anymore. I’m all yours,” he mumbles, swooping in to steal a slow kiss from you; you can’t control the giddy laugh that leaves you at that, lazy hands tangling into his hair to keep him close.

“Good,” you murmur against his lips, “I was running out of guys to use against you.”

His hand squeezes at your hip in warning— you smile coyly.

“Joking, of course.”

Nipping at your lip, Taehyun sends you a half-hearted glare.

“You better be.”

You give him a giddy nod; after tonight, it wasn’t like anyone would be able to compare to him, anyway. Shifting underneath him, you wince at the feeling of your sweaty body rubbing against the sheets— Taehyun is able to read your face before you can get anything out.

“Wanna go home?” he asks softly.

“Please,” you say, giving him a shy smile that has his heart flipping pathetically, “will you carry me?”

He laughs, placing a chaste kiss on your lips and sneaking his arms under your figure.

“Always.”

#txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt ff #txt x reader #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #taehyun smut #taehyun ff #taehyun imagines #taehyun oneshot #taehyun x reader #taehyun fanfic #taehyun fanfiction

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barleyo · 6 months ago

Text

Rural Bliss.

Real Dad! Leon X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: You, as a reader, are responsible for your own media consumption. It is up to you to read the tags that I have provided and determine whether or not this is a piece of writing that you would like to partake in. If not, scroll on by, if you do, please enjoy! Remember, I am not responsible for any discomfort you feel if you choose to read this.

Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), dub-con, oral (f receiving), LARGE AGE GAP (18 and 40+), pwp (light plot), mentions of predatory behavior, mutual creepiness, dark and disturbing content, choppy ass writing

Wordcount: 1.8k

!!! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT !!!

Your mom had finally done it. She found a halfway decent guy and let him wife her up faster than you could say 'I do.' You weren't exactly mad about it. He was a decent enough guy, and he made your mom happy, so whatever. The only part that you were against was the fact that you would be staying with your estranged father for the rest of your summer until your mom and her boy-toy got back from their extensive honeymoon.

Your dad fucked off pretty quickly after you were born. Moved himself far away into the middle of nowhere, not once reaching out or keeping in touch. A small part of you wanted to know him, but a larger part of you was pissed that you would have to now temporarily live with a man who you could just barely remember the name of.

What was it again? Leonard? Lucas? No, no, that's not right. Leon? Yeah, something like that. Leon.

Leon, the man who left you and your mom. The man who, instead of raising you, decided to lick his wounds in the deep country, likely making a meager living off of growing potatoes and carrots. The man who was a stranger, connected to you only by blood.

The man whose front porch you were currently standing on, banging on his door without a care in the world. You looked around while you knocked. It was a large bit of land. A few neighbors nearby, but not within spitting distance. At the very least, this town had a few stores with maybe a few people your age lingering around them.

"I'm coming, damn it!" His steps were loud, you could hear them from all the way outside. The heaviness of his work boots must've weighed him down quite a bit. The screen door flew open and his face softened. "Oh, hey kid. Didn't know you'd be here so early. Come in."

You followed him inside, letting your eyes trail his face and frame. You'd only seen a picture or two of him before. He wasn't quite what you were expecting. He looked a lot older now than he did in the photos. More tired, less lively. His crow's feet and smile lines stuck out, but if the lonely, uncomfortable vibe of his house was any clue, you assumed he hadn't been smiling much in his life.

He wasn't bad looking, though. Time hasn't weathered him, and you could tell he took care of himself. His arms and chest looked strong, clearly he had found some way to stay fit out in his desolate chunk of farmer-country. You could see why your mom picked him. He looked like a good one, despite his fleeting nature.

"You're gonna be stayin' for a few months, yeah?" Leon didn't seem uncomfortable with your presence, so you felt a bit more calm.

"Yeah, I guess so. Mom didn't really give me all the details, just kinda sprung it on me."

"Believe me, I know," he said under his breath. "Well, this place isn't much, 'm sure it's not what you're used to." He locked the door behind you and flashed an apologetic look.

"It's fine. I'll make it work." You looked around. It looked lived in, strangely worn despite nobody else ever living there.

He led you down a dimly lit hallway, the floorboards groaning beneath their weight, until they reached a single room. It was a small bedroom, adorned with faded wallpaper and completely wooden furniture. The single window offered a glimpse of the bare, green landscape outside.

"This'll be your room. You can unpack your things."

Hardly a week passed by and you were already sick to death of living with your dad. His jokes were bad. His cooking was shit. His attempts at bonding with you were creepy at best and damn near-assault at worst. He let his hands drift all over you when he pulled you in for hugs and tried pecking a kiss on your mouth before you went off to bed each night, and damn it, you let him.

Again and again, every night, letting that old man press his chapped lips against yours, holding back your urge to force your tongue into his mouth.

He bought you gifts that no other fathers would think about getting their daughters. Skimpy little clothes that left nothing to the imagination, while he wrote it off by claiming ignorance.

"That's what girls your age wear, right? I can't keep up with what you kids are into," Leon would say, covering his ass with feigned dopiness.

His only redeeming quality was that he was hot and mostly oblivious. It was fucked up to think about it that way, but without having much other male contact during your stay, Leon was starting to becoming quite the piece of eye candy. The best part is that he thought nothing of it, acting like his teenaged daughter spending hours staring at his half-naked, sweaty body while he worked in the hot sun was normal. Just another day. Nothing special.

He didn't make you work on the farm with him, so you got to do all the watching. You got to see those strong arms lift hay bales for the horses and chop trees for firewood. Most of your days were spent watching him from the front porch, mentally cursing yourself out when you felt your thighs clench together instinctually at his sexy movements.

What was wrong with you?

Were years of fatherlessness finally catching up to you? Couldn't muster any real love for the old man, so sexual yearning was the next best thing? Eye-fucking your dad and sharing touches that lasted too long were the cost of him skipping out on you.

You rationalized it the best you could. Maybe you didn't actually want him, maybe the solitude of the countryside was getting to you. Maybe there was something in the air, some kind of sex-pollen floating in the breeze that made you wanna get bent over by a man twice your age that just so happened to be related to you. Closely related.

Leon didn't really know how to treat a woman well, but he tried his best with you. It was his first time really being a dad, but honestly, he hated it. Being a 'dad' sucked, especially when he'd rather have his daughter as his girlfriend.

You made him so frustrated, so unsure of himself. Leon's only experience with girl's your age was in getting them liquor they couldn't legally buy themselves, fucking them like plastic sex dolls, and leaving them for someone else to woo and screw.

He couldn't quite do that to you, though. He couldn't get you drunk and take advantage of you, pumping and dumping in you without a care about your pleasure. He had to take care of you, your health and comfort. All he really wanted was to take care of your body.

You were his little girl. He'd fuck you like he actually gave a damn about you if he ever got the chance, and he most definitely wouldn't be leaving you for anyone else.

That type of thinking brought him here.

"Daddy, please..."

The walls in his house were too damn thin. He could practically hear each thrust of your fingers into your cunt from his bedroom. Your bed screeched agonizingly against the floors, punctuating your moans and hisses of pleasure.

He saw his opportunity and took it. He had waited long enough, and this was the least he could do, right? You needed him, right? Right.

He pushed your door open, not having the decency nor the self-restraint to knock. You felt your body go still, but kept your hands between your legs.

"If you needed me, coulda told me. Don't like t'hear you in here whining." Leon sat on the edge of your bed, crawling his way between your legs. "Fuck, that's pretty."

He took in the sight of your fingers stuffed into your pudgy cunt, slick dripping between each digit.

"No, you're—! this isn't what it—" you tried prying your fingers out, but a strong hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you in place.

"Isn't what it looks like? How about what it sounds like, huh? Sounds like you want your daddy to dull that ache in you."

He was so far gone. He normally never did this. Leon was a man who took. He took younger girls virginity, mouth, pussy, or other. He was the one that got sucked off and got his perv dick wet. But for his baby? You, the little nymph who fell gracefully into his grasp? He was foaming at the mouth for a chance to slurp your pussy.

"Open up, come on. Got nothin' to be shy about," he urged, forcing your legs open, pulling your fingers out, and shimmying closer to you. "Nothin' I haven't seen before."

That was somewhat of a lie. Sure, he saw pussies all the time when he bullied his cock into them, but he was normally never nose to clit, ready to lick.

He stuck his needy tongue out, lapping up the juices that you worked up when you rubbed yourself raw. He swirled around you clit as a test, trying to see what felt good for you. He soon settled on puckering his lips around your bud and sucking, swapping his spit in and out of his mouth to keep you lubed up.

Your voice broke with hushed whines and chants. Yes's and oh's rang out, filling Leon's ears and his ego.

He pulled his head back and lob a wad of spit onto your clit, chuckling when you shivered.

"Feel good?" His thumb traced your clit in little figure eights.

"Mm, s'good." Your hands trailed through his thick, soft hair. You gripped it tightly, pulling his head back to your cunt. "No, don't stop, jus' need your mouth again."

His sharp, strong nose bumped against the top of your pussy while he munched down on you greedily. His tongue traveled around you in an indecisive manner. One moment, he was using flat strokes to lick on your swollen nub, then pointing his tongue while he fucked it in and out of you.

Despite the sporadic nature of it, the warmth and wetness of the contact of his mouth on you felt like heaven. It didn't matter what he was doing, as long as he was looking up at you with his piercing eyes and swallowing down your slick, you were satisfied.

"Dad, oh my God, yes!" It felt like venom coming off of your tongue when you moaned it, but tasted like honey at the same time. Something about it was so wrong, but felt so natural.

As your legs tightened around Leon's head and trapped him between your thighs, you knew it was meant to be. You were meant to be your daddy's princess. You were meant to feel like mouth on you, to be spoiled by his tongue, words, money, and his cock. You had been missing out on it for so long.

You spent the rest of your summer making up for lost time, discovering just what having a daddy was meant to feel like.

#smutfic #leon s kennedy x reader #cw incest #tw inc*st #dark content #dead dove fic #resident evil x reader #resident evil #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy #resident evil smut #resident evil x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x you

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shiggyscumrag · 4 months ago

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To fuck or not to fuck?

Synopsis- After joining the x men you train with them one on one till you are inevitably forced to train with Logan. During a rough training session a heated argument arises and there’s only one way to break the tension.

Warnings- open wound mentioned, blood mentioned, cussing, penetrative sex (pnv), cum play if you squint, light slapping, oral (male and female receiving), choking, gagging, a bit of crying, over stimulation, nicknames babe and princess used frequently, no pronouns are used for (y/n), I’m sorry if I missed any!

AN- look I’ll be honest I just wanted to write a situation where you hate fuck Logan 🙌🏻 also this is probably not gonna be lore accurate but does it really matter when it’s smut with no plot? NO!! so enjoy fuckers ;) I did channel Deadpool energy for this character bc why not? Also the characters power involves using their voice to manipulate the people around them into doing what they want. ily pookies 💋

Look you didn’t want to be a stupid X Men. You made it very clear since day one you just wanted to continue living your “civilian” life and to keep blending in. Of course it didn’t work out that way. Professor X was the one who pulled you out of this almost normal day to day life and threw you into his rich ass mansion full of freaks. Ok you’re a freak too but you’re not trained like them. You should be out working your five to nine barely making ends meet in your shitty one bedroom apartment, but no. Now, you’re tasked to help “save the world” from worse mutants than you.

Reluctantly, you decide since you have no choice being here, why not make something interesting out of this new arrangement? After the tour of your fancy new “home” (really a school/headquarters), it’s time to meet your new coworkers. Friends? Eh too soon.

It was a little intimidating with them all lined up staring you down when you walked into the final room of Xavier’s tour. Storm standing to your far left, Cyclops beside her, Rogue, Beast and finally the Wolverine. One by one they gave a greeting, some more friendly than others. Until Logan (you later learned) just muttered a “whatever” and left. Pushing past you while staring you down. Jesus, what’s up with that guy?

You decided it wasn’t worth it to fight on your first day so you let it go. Then weeks passed, with week after week going slowly from one mutant to another teaching you new techniques. When eventually the mutant you dreaded training with the most was up. The one and only Wolverine, Mister Logan Howlett. Bit of an ironic name you couldn’t help but chuckle at when Xavier introduced him officially. Since Logan was avoiding you at all cost the whole time you’ve been here you weren’t exactly familiar with his anger issues.

“What’s so funny bub?” You could see his claws starting to peak from his knuckles and didn’t stop another chuckle.

“Knives for hands here doesn’t even know me and he wants to shred me already. You sure I’m safe here?” You say as sarcastically as you can, really emphasizing the safe part. Xavier gave a curt nod and turned to Logan.

“Don’t embarrass me.” Leaving the room right after, you and Logan were dumbfounded. You finally let out the cackle you were holding back hunching over when the door finally closed.

“Ha!! You got in trouble!!” You stood up straight clapping your hands together “You should really start playing nice.”

“You’re real fucking immature, you know that?” He said his claws slowly peaking out more after each comment you make. You start to smirk.

“Yeah? Well I am 100 years younger than you sweet heart, so who’s really the immature one?” You could be less cruel and not want to irk him on, but that wouldn’t be interesting. Plus we’re here to train. so might as well get it started.

“I’m going to kill you.” Logan stops holding back and releases claws in one swift motion.

“What happened to this being a safe space?” Before you could continue being a smart ass he lunges at you.

Dodging you stop talking and actually try to use the training you’ve gotten to kick this guys ass. I mean what’s his fucking problem? You haven’t said a fucking word to him and he thinks he can just treat you this way with no consequences? Well fine douchbag you can get exactly what you want.

“You’re really fast! I can’t believe you’re like a thousand years old!” You say giggling as you move right in time to avoid a punch to the nose. “Now that would’ve hurt!” You spin around him kicking him straight in the back knocking him down. A quick groan and he’s back up in a flash.

Dodging and weaving his swift lunges and jabs, with a yelp you fall to the floor after he kicks your feet from under you. After being quickly tackled and claws threatening to break the skin right above one of your major artery’s you let out a small whimper.

“Are you finally going to shut the fuck up?” Logan growled a top of you teeth beared chest heaving and forehead sweaty. That was kind of fucking hot actually.

“Let’s just stop and talk this out, yeah?” You say holding your hands up next to your head giving him a big toothy smile.

Logan was more than a bit confused when his body started to move and his claws retracted. In his mind he’s screaming at his body for stopping. Pissed off at the fact he’s isn’t in control. Standing you dust yourself off and start again before he could get his control back.

“Now before you try to attack me again, let’s just take a breath and calm down. You’re fine by the way. I just have control over your body temporarily.” Anger flashes across his face and it hits you that it probably wasn’t the best idea to start with that.

“Since you’ve been a major fuck face these past few weeks you know shit about me. So let me have the pleasure of introducing myself again. My names (y/n) and I can control people with my mouth.” You smile pointing to your lips. He just stares back with slight confusion and disgust. “I tell them an action and they do it. I could hypothetically kill you at anytime too, so let’s be chill.” You say winking at him.

“Well it’s good thing I can’t die.” He says smirking back at you. Funny enough you released him a while ago yet he hasn’t attacked you again.

“You seem to be calm now?” You question. “Is that lesson one?” You poke at him.

“Don’t push it.” He huffs rolling his eyes and walking away. Doors closing behind him you crumble to the ground adrenaline rushing out of you.

A week or so of training later you and Logan still dislike each other as much as the first day you met, but you could feel a tension beneath the hate. A deep seated craving consisting of mostly hate but also a little curiosity. Maybe, even a bit of sexual frustration?

After a particularly long day of training you were quite irritated at Logan. He was being even harsher than he usually is, it was pissing you off. He lunged at you when you weren’t expecting it leaving a deep cut running down the center of your back and you couldn’t hold back a growl.

“What’s your fucking problem today?” Turning to him you stop making him hesitate. “Was I too nice for your liking, Wolvie?” You mock starting to walk towards him, frustration evident on your face.

“It is explanation enough to say that I just don’t like you?” Logan spit as venom coated every word, all while that stupid smirk wore his face. That’s it.

“Down.” Without a second to waste his knees hit the rough floor hard causing a groan to break his smugness. He couldn’t move, only being able to look at you and the anger that filled your eyes. Rage would be a better description. Joining him down on the floor you kneel as you find his chin making him lean closer to your face.

“You don’t have to be cruel Logan.” You pause looking right into his hazel eyes finding that look again. This time there was something different. You couldn’t help but soften slightly as your anger slowly started to fade. Then a sting of pain from sweat seeping into the cut he just gave you reignited the fire. Grabbing his chin harder he winces as you pull him against your forehead, noses practically touching and lips inches apart.

“Don’t let this happen again.” You push his face back hard making him tip over as you release him. Staring him down you finally turn once he stays put and leave.

Half way down the hall you hear the doors burst open with a loud bang and angry footsteps starting to rush after you. Turning you’re suddenly face to face again with Logan. This time your chins being grabbed and pulled towards his face.

“Look I don’t have a problem with you.” He whispers softly while he stares you right in the eye. It’s really hard to stay mad at him when his kitty hair is all disheveled and he’s flushed like a school girl who just got kissed for the first time.

“I didn’t mean to go as hard as I did.” He muttered out. You chuckled.

“I didn’t peg you as the type to be gentle. Unfortunately for you, I haven’t had the pleasure to figure that out.” With a smirk still on your face Logan swiftly throws you over his shoulder and starts walking down the hall. You wince as your fresh wound gets tugged distracting you from the fact that you’re going opposite of the med bay. Once you pass your room you finally noticed this not so fun fact.

“Hey, the med bay is the other way big guy. I kinda need to be stitched up here.” You say as a nervous chuckle escapes.

“I’ll stitch you up myself. I don’t need the professor all up my ass about it.” He doesn’t even look at you, just keeps walking. You hold in the laugh you so desperately want to let out because you don’t want to fuck this up. This is the nicest he has ever been. That’s right, that’s the end of that sentence with no buts! Except his actual ass being right in your view and if you could add you’d love to be all up in it.

Finally making it to his room he gently sits you on his bed. Turning around without saying a word he digs in his desk pulling out a fairly impressive med kit. Not one of those small ones no, no, like an actual emergency med bag. Your jaw dropped a little and he chuckled. Dropping it on the bed beside you he lifts your chin making you look up at him.

“You gotta take your suit off and lay down so I can stitch you up.” He said pointing to the clean plaid sheets. Looking where he pointed you chuckled.

“Well that’s a bit forward.” He rolled his eyes but this time he had a smile? “Wow I finally made you almost laugh!”

“Shut up and lay down already. I’m getting impatient.” Logan said it as harshly as he could but it came out more light than originally intended.

“Fine but turn around. You’re not getting a free show.” You wink as you give your finger a twirl. Sighing and softly shaking his head he turns around. Taking a moment to scan over his juicy toned muscular ass you then move on to actually do what you had him turn around for. Taking your top off you cup your chest and lay down.

“Alright bubble butt, I’m all yours.” Looking over your shoulder you see him turning around with an eyebrow raised until he finally sees you. His silent judgement turned into something darker. He collects himself and walks over to the bag once again shaking his head.

“Don’t stare at my ass, and definitely don’t make comments about it.” He says firmly, but you can tell he’s not being stern.

“Oh come on, it was right in front of my face! Plus, your hips sway slightly when you walk so it looked extra good-“ a loud whine stopped your sentence short when a sharp needle entered your back.

“A warning next time would be delightful!” You say sarcastically jaw clenched.

“I warned you not to talk about my ass.” That’s all he has to say?

“And once again, your ass was in my face! What else am I supposed to talk about? That’s a hypothetical by the way, it will always be about your ass.” At this point the adrenaline makes the pain in your back go numb. Fortunately, feeling his warm hand on your back kneading the needle through your skin has your panties wet. Luckily he’s fast with his needle work because two minutes later he’s done.

“Alright you’re all fixed up now.” He stands from the bed returning the supplies to his bag.

“Really?” You could have sworn that cut was huge. “Well I guess I’ll get dressed then.”

“Did you need me to turn around or are you going to finally act like I’ve seen tits before? That’s a hypothetical of course.” Mocking you with a cheeky smirk and one brow raised he tosses the med bag off the bed and onto the floor. Arms crossed he stares down at you still lying on the bed.

“Is that your way of asking to see my tits? I’d love to test and see if you’re as harsh in bed as you are during training.” Turning around still holding your chest you give your shoulders a slight shrug. “What’s it gonna be Logan? Hate sex or awkward eye contact in the hallway?”

As quick as he is in training, he’s now right in front of you, your jaw gripped by his hand. He leans down getting right in your face. You can feel his warmth radiating from his skin, it made you shiver.

“Don’t get all shy now,” He mocked. “I don’t hate you.” He looks you up and down scanning every inch of your body, unclothed and clothed. “I will fuck you though.”

“I didn’t think that’d actually work but show me what you got baby!” You say hands falling from your chest and pulling his jaw into a kiss. He kisses you back grabbing your side slowly moving to kneel on the bed. Lowering into the bed you’re now lying down. The pressure not the best feeling on your back you let out a quiet hiss.

“What’s the matter? Is it your back?” He asked gently leaning your back off the bed relieving the pain shooting though out you.

“Yeah, usually I wouldn’t mind missionary but I think your love swipe is begging for us to do something kinkier.” You say winking. Before he can say a word you hook your legs around his waist using your momentum to flip him under you on to the bed. Kissing the shock off his face he pulls back suddenly.

“Who taught you that?” He questioned, jealousy slightly peaking through.

“That’s a personal trick. Consider it a mini lesson of my own to you.” You leave a little boop to his nose finding his lips again before he could ask any more questions. Starting to grind down on him, he grabs your hips rolling them at a slower pace. It was deeper though, way harder. Slow hard and precise. You didn’t stop the moan that fell into his mouth. Groaning in response he squeezed your hips even tighter causing you to pull back. Arching your back while dry humping him you let out a breathy moan. Reaching up you grab your tits rolling your nipples in between your fingers. Still guiding your hips a low rumble growls from Logan’s throat as his head rolled back. A pretty erotic site.

“You’re killing me here bub.” He groaned out as he sat up meeting face to face. He starts kissing your jaw moving down to your pressure point playfully nibbling. You moan embarrassingly loud, you could feel his grin against your neck. That made you want to stroke your ego a bit. Pulling his head back by the roots of his hair you grind down extra hard feeling his hip buck to meet yours. You quietly laugh and push him back down. Crawling up an inch or two to give him one more sloppy kiss before sitting back up.

“Don’t worry baby you don’t have to wait for this pretty pussy any longer.” You’re unbuckling his belt and pulling his boxers down to remove his- holy shit huge cock.

“Damn Logan! They weren’t lying when they said you were huge down unda!” You turn to wink to the fourth wall.

“Usually that would kill the mood but you’re really fucking hot.” He pants out “Now back to what you were doing.” He pulls his pants further down his hips and you begin to stroke him.

Eventually getting to impatient you say fuck it and decide to take him all in one go. Loudly he groans, his eyes meet yours, his pupils fully blown out. At the sight you couldn’t help but start bouncing on his cock. Letting go of your hips he lets you set the pace. Grinding down you curve your hips so he could run against your walls deliciously rough. Getting slightly cock drunk after just a few strides your pace begins to increase wanting more of that feeling. Growing desperate you let out a whimpering moan. Hands falling from your chest to Logan’s chest.

“Logan, please.” You beg desperately. Still riding him you plead with him. You looked so pitiful, he couldn’t help the way his twitched hard deep in you. You’re so fucking beautiful.

“What do you want baby? Use your words.”

“I want you to fuck me.” You whine out, you want him to take control and fuck the shit out of you. “Fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk tomorrow!” You moan out loudly as he bucks his hips up suddenly. Grabbing your hand he intertwines with your fingers squeezing hard and steadying you. Bucking up into you fast he doesn’t feel he is deep enough.

Moving to grab you by your waist he flips you onto your knees face being pushed into his pillows. Drool starts to pool in your mouth form being engulfed by the scent of his sheets. He pushes himself back in quickly making you moan out his name.

“This better princess?” He said with a big smirk “I only want to hear my name come out your mouth. Got it?”

“Yes, daddy!” You were half joking about that nickname. Good thing you felt his cock twitch before you let out that nervous laugh bubbling up your throat.

“Fuck me.” He moans out.

“No fuck me-“ cut off once again by his cock pounding into you. Grabbing at the sheets you could feel his hands move from your hips to rest on either side of your head. Hitting even deeper inside you he then grabs your throat with one hand making you sit up on your hands and knees. Still fucking into you he pulls you all the way up to his chest, grabbing his arm for support you feel him tighten his grip on your neck. This euphoria wasn’t going to last much longer because you were gonna cum hard.

“Logan- I’m gonna cum!” You could barely speak between your pants and erotic moans.

“Cum on my cock princess.” His other hand finds your clit rubbing it at the same pace his cock is pounding inside of you. Letting out a loud moan you could feel the warmth building fast.

“Want me to cum inside you? I want to cum with you.” Panting to the pace of his hips he continues “Fill you up like the slut you are.” He growls into your ear. His voice full of lust and desperation.

“Fill me up baby!” You laugh out in between moans. He groans as he feels your walls spasm around him. You feel bliss and see black speckles fill your vision as your cum dribbles down his cock. Reaching back your hands find his hair and dig hard into his scalp. The pain causes Logan to fall over the edge and cum hard deep inside you.

“Oh fuck, can’t stop!” He practically whined out still fucking into you chasing his high. Still rubbing your clit you start to whine out from over stimulation. Before he can stop himself from rutting into you anymore you come again. Almost screaming out a moan you dig your nails into his shoulders. You feel so fucking warm, soaking wet and tight. Logan can’t pull himself away from you. You feel to good.

“Logan, you horny bitch!” Smirking while grinding back into him you slow his pace down. Moving his hand away from your clit his hands find the inner parts of your thigh. Picking you up slightly to meet his hips even closer than before he groans into the side of your neck. You start to feel the familiar cold metal of his claws poking into your thighs.

“Feel good pretty boy?” You turn towards his face and move one of your hands to his jaw. Before he could answer you start to make out with him while still grinding into him harder. Logan moans into your mouth before pulling away. Finally stopping with his cock still hard inside you he sighs into your shoulder kissing you.

“Feel real fucking good.” Starting to leave a hickey right behind your ear you begin to pull away.

“You trying to go another round or do you need more time to recover hot stuff? I don’t want to hurt that metal hip you know how to move just right.” Squeezing his sides you can feel his abs move under your hands. You moan quietly moving your hands down to his v line. Eventually making your way to his ass giving it a firm squeeze. Turning your head at the same time you find the side of his neck biting down a little rough on the lobe of his ear.

He growls out and you can feel his claws start to push against the flesh of your thighs. Retracting them he pulls out and flips you around sitting you up on your knees facing him on the edge of the bed.

“Bend down and suck my dick loud mouth.” Grabbing you by the base of your hair you slowly started crawling down onto your hands and knees. Ass arched in the air you find the tip of his cock in your face. Pre cum falling from his pinkish tip. You lick your lips looking up at him.

“It’d be my pleasure.” Not getting a chance to say anything else he starts fucking into your mouth. Breathing through your nose you start to lick against his length going opposite of his thrusts. Loud squelching filled the room. It was absolutely filthy, but so fucking HOT! You moaned into his cock, the vibrations sending a shiver through him. Moaning loud he starts going faster. Tears start to roll down your cheeks and you feel nothing but pure pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum soon. Keep sucking baby.” His eyes are shut tightly and you decide then you want to see him totally fucked out. Sucking extra hard and messy you lock eyes with him when he looks down at you. Moaning loudly he starts to pant.

“Good girl! Fuck you’re really good! Don’t stop!” Using both hands he starts pushing your head down faster and way deeper. His dick was starting to go down your throat. Deep throating him you hold yourself down on his cock moaning out his name. Barely audible for obvious reasons, he pulled you off his cock.

“What’s my name princess?” He smirks holding the base of his cock in his other hand.

“Logan!” Sounding hoarse considering this is the first time you could breathe in the last 5 minutes.

“But I prefer wolf daddy!” Always gotta keep the mood light! Gently slapping you on your cheek he pushes your head all the way down his cock. Gagging from the sudden intrusion you quickly begin to suck on him again.

Logan’s hips bucked into your mouth over and over while his balls slapped against your chin. Slobber running down your chin reaching your throat dribbling all over his balls and down his pelvis. His pubes leading to a happy trail is all you can focus on for the moment. Some of your juice still glistening on his mound. You moan against his dick again finally pushing him over causing him to grip your hair tight. Swallowing every last drop he has to give you. A low hum comes from you as the veins on his chest pop out from the pleasure. God this man was fucking hot. Rock hard abs, a sweat glistened chest with the sexiest chest hair, his perfectly cut arms and beautifully sculpted legs. The full package. And god knows you LOVE his package.

Popping off his cock once he was down you swallow the rest of his cum in your mouth. Licking your lips you sit up meeting his lips so he could taste himself on your tongue. One passionate steamy kiss later you pull back running a hand through his hair down to his cheek.

“I’m surprised you can use that mouth for more than just shit talk.” He chuckles kissing you quickly on the cheek.

“You always have to be able to ride the cock if you’re gonna talk the talk. Is that how that saying goes?” Tilting your head he puts his hand over your mouth.

“Enough of that.” Shaking his head he leaves you on the bed going to his closet. He pulls out a new pair of boxers pulling them on and then grabbing a pair for you. Moving over he grabs a wife beater for himself and an over sized flannel for you. Walking back over he sets your clothes on the bed.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Pointing to your cunt that’s still dripping his cum. “It’s not very gentlemanly to leave a mess.”

Kneeling down he sits between your legs. Without saying a word he starts licking between your folds lapping up all the cum in its wake. Rolling your head back you fall back on to your elbows. Moaning out his name his tongue dives into your hole making your flinch. Hand instinctively finding his hair pulling a little. Finding your eyes he starts to suck on your clit. Flicking his tongue fast up and down, then swirling around you he moans. The noise mixed with being over stimulated already had you cumming again but this time into his mouth.

“God Logan don’t stop!” Riding against his face you stop a minute later once your high has passed. With a groan you fall limp against his sheets. Not even caring about the slight ache that goes through your back.

“I finally got you to shut up.” And without saying a word you’re already out cold. Getting a cloth he washes you up and dresses you in his clothes. I guess he didn’t mind spending the night with you in his bed. You were surprisingly cute when you slept snoring softly and cuddled all into his side. You were warm and soft too. Logan can learn to like this quiet side of you.

I hope you guys enjoyed this one, I haven’t posted for a while so it’s hard not to second guess myself. Let me know if you want anymore Wolverine and possibly even Deadpool content?

#logan howlett #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine xmen #x men smut #x men x reader

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sohnric · 1 year ago

Text

plot twist – k. sunwoo

pairing: kim sunwoo x gn! reader

genre: coworkers au, enemies to lovers au. fluff, a poor attempt at comedy. movie theatre! worker sunwoo and reader. bitch boy sunwoo. the reader has anger issues. owner's son! sunwoo being annoying about everything. winter themes, sunwoo is a little kid about stuff but mostly the snow.

wc: 21k

warnings: swearing, a heated make out session. y/n's inner monologue is just my own feelings about this man im sorry. i watched too much of the office when writing this can you tell. also i made sunwoo's sister underage for plot reasons deal with it.

working with kim sunwoo has so far been the worst experience of your whole entire life. just his existence alone is enough to make your day completely miserable– though, one would think that working with movies on the daily would prepare you for the biggest plot twist of your life.

a/n: this took me SO LONG to write woah. i have a humble playlist for this fic if any of yall wanna listen to it while you read <3 a huge thank you goes to my best friend @csenke for being my biggest motivator and hype man when it came to this fic. thank u for being my first ever beta reader hihi i couldn't have done this without you i am forever grateful ily. also im tagging @heemingyu because whe told me to

ho ho ho! this fic is a part of the secret santa event by @deoboyznet ! @kimsohn maya, i was your secret santa this year, i hope you enjoy the fic i prepared for you

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – UGLY TRUTH (2009)

If anyone ever asked you about your job in the movie theater, you wouldn’t really know what to say.

You see, what may had seemed like your dream job when you were little, acquiring the fairytale vision after going to the cinema for the first time to see the Horton movie when you were just 7, quickly turned into reality one ordinary day during your junior year of university. And it wasn’t even that hard; you just dropped off your CV at the movie theater on the corner of the town's square when you saw the sign that said ‘looking for part-timers’ in a messy, giant handwriting on the glass door– and soon enough, you found yourself in the depths of the vintage-looking cinema, wearing the red uniform the owner gave you, selling movie tickets to teenagers and taking out the trash. It’s hard to enjoy the job when you’re on bathroom cleaning duty, though, and the fact that this is what you once imagined to be the most exciting job in the whole entire world turns twice as boring when you realize just how mundane it really is.

Still, you can’t bring yourself to quit, well, because you need the money.

Do you hate working in the cinema? No. Not really. Sure, it’s kind of boring– especially on the nights when you’re selling tickets at the front and nobody comes in for hours– but it’s not that difficult. It’s not physically or mentally demanding, so you’d say that you’re still on the better end when it comes to work environment. Your boss isn’t a dick and you get paid on time– so really, if anyone asked you if you hated it, your answer would be no.

Until one fateful day, of course.

You’re met with a person that’s going to efficiently change this opinion around in one swift bat of their eyelashes and a drag of their hand through their messy hair.

“So… you’re the new part-timer?” a tall boy asks you one day when you arrive at work. You’re already wearing your uniform when you come through the front door– since you don’t really feel like changing in the toilets that are not staff-exclusive here– and frankly, his voice startles you on your way in.

“Yeah,” you nod, furrowing your brows at the stranger. “And you are…?”

“Sunwoo,” the boy says, matter-of-factly, as if you’re supposed to know who exactly he is now that he’s introduced himself to you. The look on your face may show that you’re still clueless, and see, that’s something that must have played with the boy’s ego. “Kim Sunwoo,” he snickers, “the owner’s son..?”

Blinking a few times, trying to remember if Mr Kim’s ever told you about having a son– he hasn’t– you gasp like a fish on the dry, nodding. “Oh… Hello..?” you mumble, not really knowing what to do with the information.

“Hi,” he says, face stone cold and motionless. Something’s wrong, but you can’t quite put your finger on it….

Well, you’ll have to deal with that later. “My shift starts in 5 minutes, so I gotta find Mr- your dad, and ask him what’s on my to-do list today, but it was nice meeting you,” you try to force out a polite (maybe even warm) smile before you turn on your heel and march towards the staff room, where Mr Kim usually resigns unless he is helping you out with something at the front. See, on not busy days, working at the cinema requires only one person. On Fridays, though, it can get tough. That’s when the owner makes the popcorn while you both sell and scan the tickets at the same time– sometimes you wonder why he doesn’t hire another person to help out with the job.

“Wait– newbie–”

The nickname startles you, again, as you turn around and squint at him. You have a name– and although he has no way of knowing it (other than his father telling him, but seeming that you didn’t even know about his son, Mr Kim isn’t big on sharing information)– but still, you’d love to be called by it. “It’s Y/N, actually.”

“Oh, right…” he hums, “well, Y/N, dad’s not here tonight, so… I’m… kind of in charge,” he says, nodding as he gets the words out, trying to prove his point, “he had other things to take care of, so he sent me down instead,” he explains, watching as your face morphs into one of quick understatement.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he nods, sucking on his teeth.

Thick silence overtakes the atmosphere. You feel awkward and out of place.

“So…?” you hum, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

Because a guy your age ordering you around at work is already embarrassing enough for a university student just trying to pay for their groceries. You’re not gonna ask for the orders yourself. You still have some dignity.

“So… I could take the ticket booth and you can clean the screening room, since there are no movies on tonight?” he suggests, rocking on his heels. The boy seems a bit shaken with the new sense of responsibility, but you figure that even his undoubtful awkwardness still doesn't put you above his position.

You mentally sigh. Cleaning is your least favorite part of the job.

Still, you’re not gonna talk back to your boss’ son. You’d like to keep your job for a while longer. At least until you find something better.

“Alright,” you nod, turning on your heels once more and preparing to disappear into the depths of the cinema.

His voice stops you again, though, frustration flowing through your veins. “Don’t forget to mop the floors! Oh, and the bathroom could use a clean as well.”

“Alright,” you nod again, your back facing him.

“Also, you need to get the gum off the chairs, I know it’s kind of disgusting, but there’s a-”

“I know how to do my job, thank you,” you turn, smiling ironically over your shoulder.

You don’t know what it is about the man that makes you so, so incredibly irritated. Maybe it’s the fact that every bit of information coming out of his mouth sounds like he’s mansplaining everything to you. Maybe it’s the fact that you feel humiliated to be told what to do by a man that’s your age. Or maybe, it’s just the sheer fact that you hate cleaning– the one thing he just told you to do.

Still, you go and get the vacuum. You go and mop the floors, you go and take the gum off the chairs and scrape it into a bucket you keep in the pantry in the back. You go and clean the bathroom, even though it’s 10 minutes until the end of your shift (you only work 4 hours on Wednesdays) and you spent almost your whole day cleaning the whole screening room by yourself (the screening room that’s giant and Mr Kim helps you with on most days). You go and wipe the mirror in the bathroom, as well as the windows in the hall.

You say that your work in the cinema is not physically demanding, but by the time you’re out, your back hurts and your knees are all bruised up from getting on the ground so often.

What really sets you off, though, is the sight of the owner’s son sitting in the booth, both legs up on the table and chewing on something, his phone in his hands as he watches, what you presume from the language resonating from the speaker, a silly anime. At least someone had fun during their shift, you think as you leave without saying goodbye to him, slamming the door behind you with a loud bang on your way out.

Quite frankly, you didn’t know what set you off so bad this time. Maybe you just had a bad day. Maybe it could've been fixed with your next shared shift with the guy– you never know.

Little did you know that it was only going to get worse from now on, though.

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – PALM SPRINGS (2020)

If you knew your boss’s son would play the role of your supervisor from time to time, you probably wouldn't have taken the job when it was offered to you.

Why?

The reason is quite simple– while you go to work to make money, Kim Sunwoo goes to work to make your whole life a living hell. Ranging from always giving you the more difficult task of the day to making unfunny jokes about your performance (he once asked if you ran a marathon after you mopped the whole hall, his grinning figure staring at you from inside of the ticket booth), you’re starting to think that Kim Sunwoo is mentally stuck with the brain of an 11-year old boy.

More so with his recent endeavors. You don’t really know what he’s trying to achieve with all of this, but you’re starting to despise going to work even when you know he’s not on the schedule– somehow, you’re afraid his silly pranks and jokes will follow you and surprise you even when he’s not present. Is this his way of asserting dominance? You really don’t know.

It all starts one day before a movie premiere when Sunwoo walks up to you and introduces you to a new concession item to sell in the snack booth. While you don’t really know why one would even think of new combinations to sell at a cinema, since everyone’s just gonna get popcorn or nachos, you don’t really question the idea much further– Sunwoo’s father owns this place, so he must know the best marketing strategies for his business. The reality only downs on you when you’re forced to promote the “Ultimate movie mix” to every customer– which wouldn’t even be that strange, if the mix didn’t include the weird combination of pickles and candy.

Running on two all nighters and half an energy drink, you didn’t realize the snack stand doesn’t even hold pickles. You were notified the day after by your boss, though, and that wasn’t your best experience.

The terror follows when Sunwoo’s father decides to run a Star Wars marathon one weekend. The flood of customers wouldn’t be as hard to manage when you run the snack stand, but it does get more difficult when your coworker running around with a lightsaber knocks over all the buckets of freshly-made popcorn you just put on the counter for the customers to take.

He doesn’t even say sorry. Or help clean the spilled popcorn up from the floor. Or help you make a new batch.

He just laughs.

Sunwoo just loves to laugh at you. Like that one time he made you wear a giant popcorn costume and stand in front of the cinema for the entirety of your 4 hour shift on Wednesday to promote the new movie airing on Friday. Hardly anyone took the fliers you were desperately trying to force into their hands and when you came back, you saw Sunwoo pointing his camera at you from the big glass window.

The next shift, his dad asked you how Sunwoo did when promoting the movie. You didn’t have the heart to tell him he forced you to do the dirty business instead.

Another time, Sunwoo informs you via text in the middle of your shift that you should clean the bathrooms. The fact itself already makes you furious, but you follow the order nonetheless– because, well, what else can you do? You’re used to cleaning the toilets, since it’s a part of your job. It’s just the fact that a guy your age told you to that’s making you rethink all your career decisions.

The trip to the bathrooms quickly turns traumatizing when you step inside of the tiled room and have the door behind you close with a loud bang, followed by the light switching off. Screeching, you jump and try to escape the room with fear making your heart run faster than Usain Bolt, however, you find the door seemingly locked– the sound of Sunwoo’s snarky laugh coming from the other side making you recognise what just happened and how he’s pulling another one of his childish pranks on you again.

When the door finally opens, you throw the toilet brush into his chest and scream out a “I’m going to fucking quit if I see your face one more time!”. You’re over all formalities.

That doesn’t mean you’re not scared every time you enter a room in the cinema when you work with Sunwoo, though. Your reaction was strengthened very abruptly, you see.

Sitting in the ticket booth, door ajar to monitor your surroundings, you plop your head on your hand and glare at Sunwoo, chewing on your gum. If anyone saw you right now, they’d think you were trying to kill him with your stare, but the opposite would actually be the truth tonight– you were quite enjoying the sight of him wiping the sweat off his forehead and scowling at the neverending flow of customers.

The beauty of having ticket booth duty on premiere night is that everyone bought the tickets beforehand already, meaning that it wasn’t usually busy. Scanning the tickets and running the snack booth were the more difficult parts of the shift, and since Mr Kim decided to show up to work today, Sunwoo was graced with the snack booth duty– something that warmed you up from the inside and made you want to kiss your boss’s feet in gratefulness.

There’s just something about seeing Kim Sunwoo in misery that makes your stomach turn and do cartwheels. You’re in love with his pathetic, tired face.

His eyes meet yours when he takes a moment to breathe– the look behind them is pleading, almost embarrassingly hopeless as he internally wishes he was in your place. You think this serves him right for the weeks of torture, and when he becomes you to come over with a motion of his hand, you just shrug at him and bat your eyelashes in faked innocence.

It’s not your fault he’s on duty tonight. What does he want with you?

His lips mouth “Come here,” which makes you battle a satisfied smile. Poor Kim Sunwoo is helpless in his task. The rush just won’t stop and he’s asked of more than he can handle. You kind of feel sadistic when you truly think about your sentiments, but you think you’re only valid for feeding on his misery.

“Help!” he mouths again, and now you truly can’t battle the laughter anymore. His hair is tousled and sticking to his forehead. His uniform is dirty. The tie around his neck is loose. The sight makes you utterly satisfied.

As he mouths “Please,” accompanied by clasped hands and a pleading look that would work on most women, you finally decide to stand up from the uncomfortable chair in the ticket booth and shake your head in disbelief. You can’t even count how many times Sunwoo left you alone in the rush before a premiere, but you can’t really risk his father finding out you didn’t come to rescue his beloved son, since however you might hate this job, you still can’t lose it in your current living conditions.

Sighing and closing the door to the ticket booth after you, your legs take you to the snack stand. Eyes of enthusiastic customers looking almost high on coca cola and the smell of salted popcorn are on you when you finally reach Sunwoo’s side.

“So I’m supposed to help you with your work whenever you ask, but when I’m left cleaning the whole theater completely alone, you can sit around and play on your phone?” you jab, annoyed with the turn of events. You find a spare apron and tie it around your waist, not really wanting to dirty your uniform as you pour caramel into some buckets of popcorn, hearing your companion chuckle next to you.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Okay, so I’ll be back in the ticket booth after serving this customer-”

“My dad’s watching.”

“This is blackmailing,” you snap back, smiling ironically at your coworker.

Sunwoo grins at you when he hands two cokes to the teenage girls behind the counter, shrugging to himself. “Not my problem.”

You learned long ago that fighting with Kim Sunwoo is a battle you can never win. Logically, you know you’re always right, but the boy always thinks he should have the last word in everything, which makes ending an argument with him pretty much impossible. That’s why you stopped trying to prove your truth. In your heart, you know how it is, and no amount of snarky remarks from the feisty boy will change your opinion.

You two work alongside each other in silence for some time. You’d even say it’s efficient– you make the popcorn and he makes the nachos, both of you taking turns behind the coca cola machine, and after a few minutes in his proximity when he’s not being the butt of the Earth, your brain starts to question why you two can’t operate like this on a daily basis.

Oh, how foolish of you.

You’re quickly brought back to reality when you walk over with the grande size bucket of popcorn towards the counter, meeting halfway with Kim Sunwoo’s chest.

It takes everything in you not to scream, but the restraint is deleted as soon as you feel something cold dripping down the front of your uniform, your white button-up suddenly sticking towards your chest in a big, dark-brown pool around your waist area. One sharp look into his eyes is everything it takes you two to come to a mutual understanding of what your next action is gonna be– Sunwoo quickly puts the now empty cup of coca cola onto the counter and puts a hand towards his head in self-disappointment.

“Kim Sunwoo, are you fucking incompetent?!” you scream out, the sensation of your cold shirt sticking to your already sweaty skin making you want to crawl out of yourself and scratch your coworker’s eyes out with the claws of the demon he wakes up in you.

“Look, you don’t have to-”

“I just washed this yesterday, there’s a line of people waiting for their snacks up to the fucking front door, you just ruined the popcorn I made so now I have to redo it, and you just decide to spill this onto me?!” you continue with your rampage, not really caring about the eyes of everyone on you, just letting out all your built-up frustration that creeps inside of you every time you see his face.

“As if I did this on purpose…” he grunts as he turns around in his place and reaches for napkins, not really putting much thought into his actions as he presses the material into the damp place sticking to your skin.

The image startles you– Kim Sunwoo almost in physical contact with you, a paper napkin soaking up some of the coca cola flooding the surface of your skin– and as you watch his slender palms run over your front, your eyes falling to the fluffy hair at the crown of his head, you feel heat rushing to your insides, making you jump away from him.

“Sorry-” he mumbles out as you forcefully pry the napkin out of his hand, gritting your teeth.

“I’m starting to think you’re making me do everything just because you’re useless,” you spit at him.

Rolling his eyes, Sunwoo pokes his cheek with the tip of his tongue. “It was an accident.”

“Don’t care,” you grunt, walking away from the booth, “I’m going to change in the back, you better not burn the place down with the popcorn machine before I’m back,” you comment, sending him a sharp glare over your shoulder.

All that accompanies you to the staff room is Sunwoo’s loud sigh and a sugary-sweet tone he offers to one of the customers as he throws the ruined popcorn into the trash. “I’ll be right with you, miss!”

If anyone asked you if you hated your job now, you think you’d say yes.

Who are you kidding?

You’d definitely say yes.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE HATING GAME (2021)

You were quite pleased on your way to work today. It’s Wednesday, which usually means it’s not as busy. The weather is cloudy– good enough to not make you gloomy, but not quite sunny enough to make you wish you were outside instead of being stuck in the cinema the whole afternoon– and you packed a home-made sandwich with you to eat on your lunch break. Which is whenever, since you’re on ticket booth duty today– another great news.

The best thing about today, though? Kim Sunwoo isn’t working today.

That alone is good enough to make your whole entire day better. The sun shines brighter, your breathing is lighter, the air is clearer and the birds chirp louder when you know you don’t have to interact with the hellspawn that day. It’s like his absence alone is enough to heal all your wounds and delete all your worries– who cares about the fact that you’re barely getting through your Biology class when you know you won’t have to stare at Sunwoo’s face as you contemplate dropping out of university during your shift?

Maybe you should thank him, in a way.

And with all of this knowledge, a smile plastered on your face as you’re prepared to sit through your 5-hour shift in silence with an occasional swipe through your social media and a well deserved chicken-mayo sandwich towards the end of your shift, it’s quite natural for your smile to freeze and your spirit fall the moment you see the mop of dark brown hair walk through the doors of the cinema.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” you mourn as he walks by, only realizing you said the sentence out loud when the boy looks at you with a scowled face, a scoff escaping his throat.

“Didn’t know we were speaking to each other in third person now,” he says as he stops in his tracks and plops his head into the door to your booth, infesting your calm abode with his presence.

Deep breaths. In and out, Y/N. In and out…

“Hello to you too, Y/N,” he smiles, irony dripping off his tongue, “having a good day so far?”

“It was better without you here, thank you,” you snap back, rolling your eyes at him when his eyes flash with something akin to a victory– it seems you both take joy in making the other one absolutely miserable with your presence.

“Sweet,” he nods on his way out, grinning to himself. “Well, I won’t be long, so don’t let your mood drop too much.”

With that, he’s out of the ticket booth. All that’s left behind him is the smell of his cologne– the tingle of lemon and bergamot filling your nostrils in a way that makes the fine hair at the back of your neck stand up all alert– and silence. It makes you wonder about his whereabouts– you can never know… what if he’s setting up a trap for you somewhere? You wouldn’t be half surprised. You make a mental note to yourself to be twice as cautious when going to the bathroom next time. Just to make sure.

Before you’re able to think of any possible situations that Sunwoo could get himself caught in (while completely ignoring the fact that his father is somewhere in his office in the back– for all you know, he might just need to talk to your boss, like a son does sometimes), the woodworm of your thoughts appears in your view again, two rolled-up tubes under his shoulder as he walks over to the front door.

“Wait! What are those?” you ask, eyes zeroing on the very clear posters in his grip. The shiny white back of the big posters you have to sometimes put up in the front of the cinema are unmistakable to anything else.

“Posters,” Sunwoo replies, calling over his shoulder, already halfway out of the building.

“I know what those are–”

“Then why are you asking?” he huffs, shaking his head in disbelief as he takes a few steps towards the ticket booth, eyes meeting yours. His figure fills the door frame as he towers over you, still sitting on the chair. His eyes have a different kind of twinkle in them– you think, no, you know it’s mischief– making the blood in your veins boil at deadly temperatures.

“Because– well,” you huff, already frustrated, “we’re not allowed to take these,” you say, pointing to the two posters under his shoulder like a kid in the candy store. You try to ignore just how embarrassing you must look right in this moment.

“Oh,” he pouts, taking the posters from below his shoulder, unraveling one of them and resting the other one against the doorframe, “so you’re telling me… I can’t take those two amazingly big, shiny, cool posters of the latest Spiderman movie home for me and my friend Juyeon?”

You’re only half-aware of the fact that he’s teasing you right now, sighing at his innocent face. “No, Sunwoo. You can’t.”

“Hm,” he hums, looking at the poster from top to the bottom, seemingly sad about the news, “that’s terrible. Says who?”

“Your… your father, Sunwoo. He told me when I asked him the other day if I could take–”

“You wanted to take posters home from the cinema?” he gasps, looking at you with big eyes. He looks stupid. So, terribly stupid. Dumb. No thought behind his eyes. You want to smash his head against a concrete wall.

…He’s teasing you. It finally dawns on you.

Now, you want to smash your head against a concrete wall.

Still, you admit defeat with a solemn tone in your voice. “Well, I really wanted the Enola Holmes poster to put up in my bedroom…” you mumble.

“And my dad said no?” he asks, eyebrows quirking up towards his hairline.

“Yes, Sunwoo. Your father said it’s prohibited to take posters home from the cinema, that’s exactly why I’m stopping you right now,” you say, tone filled with annoyance. You know he’s enjoying your face full of misery. But still, if there’s one thing you’re good at, it’s following the rules and orders– if Mr Kim says you can’t take the posters home, you’ll go in the back and tear them into pieces before throwing them into the bin like you’re told to.

If things were going your way, you’d advise Sunwoo to do the same.

A day with Kim Sunwoo in it never goes your way, though. You should’ve been prepared.

“So I can’t take those posters home because my dad said no?” he clarifies, looking like a dummy. Like one of those kids that ask the most obvious questions during exams. Like one of those kids you want to sucker punch in the face.

“Sunwoo–”

“Well, Y/N-ie,” he purrs, the nickname making your hands curl up in fists, “that’s too bad… because I am the owner’s son, so… the rules don’t really apply to me, you see.”

And with that, he sends another sickeningly sweet smile your way before he turns on his heel and marches towards the front door again– not responding to any of your annoyed, infuriated calls of his name. He doesn’t stop at your warnings. He doesn’t care.

And just like that, he disappears just as fast as he appeared. The interaction didn’t last more than 10 minutes, but you consider your whole day ruined.

Fucking Sunwoo and his fucking privileges. And his fucking annoying face.

It’s not even that important. It’s just two posters that would get thrown out to the dumpster in the back at the end of your shift anyway. You don’t even care about those posters in particular– you just with equal rules applied to all workers in the workplace.

It’s not like Spiderman Homecoming is one of your favorite movies… not at all.

You could’ve had that poster. You deserved that poster. You sold tickets for it and served the snack booth when it premiered– not Kim Sunwoo and whatever his friend’s name was.

You kick the wall with your sneaker. It leaves a dirty mark.

You should’ve known the day felt too good to be true.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING (1993)

There’s a new thing Mr Kim is trying to lure more customers into the cinema. He calls it ‘Rewind Thursdays’, where he picks a movie from the past and airs it in the theater again to bring out nostalgia in the whole town. You think it’s a good idea– you remember when the Harry Potter movies had a rerun back when you were little, ecstatic that you finally got to see them in the cinema because you missed out on the experience when they were coming out for the first time. You went even though you saw them all before, and you had a blast. So in your books, this was the best thing that could happen to the little, old movie theater on the corner of the town’s square.

You were overbeared with joy when Mr Kim went up to you during one of your slow Wednesday shifts in the ticket booth with a paper and a pen, requesting you to write down your favorite movies. He informed you that he’d prefer it if they were older, to, quote, really get the nostalgia going, and you were happy to have some say in the list of movies to play for multiple reasons. One, because it meant he valued your opinion, and two, you don’t usually work on Thursdays, so if your favorite movie is on that day, you can go and relax in the cinema while watching it.

This all happened a few weeks ago. You gave the list back to your boss at the end of your shift, smiling brightly just thinking about it, and he told you he’ll get through it and see what he can incorporate.

The plan gets to you on one uneventful Wednesday. You are stuck in the ticket booth again. Today is one of the Wednesdays where Sunwoo is in charge, because Mr Kim is out of town. You hate those days most of them all, but recently, he’s been giving you your freedom and letting you work in the ticket booth instead of cleaning the already clean cinema, saying he has stuff to do in the back. You suspect he just sits around in his father’s office with his legs on the table, chewing on his obnoxious strawberry mints. The image makes you furious only the tiniest bit, because the fact that he’s out of your sight and isn’t ordering you around is enough to calm your nerves. It could always be worse, you remind yourself. It could always be worse.

“I have the schedule of ‘Rerun Thursdays’ all done,” Sunwoo says as he walks up to the ticket booth close to the end of your shift. His eyes look a little tired when he holds up a thick card to you, the design of the poster making your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Did he do that?

“It’s ‘Rewind Thursdays’, actually,” you note, pointing towards the very obvious mistake on the top of the poster.

“Oh fuck– you know what, not anymore,” he scowls, taking the poster back from you and pointing glares at the title he mistyped, “I spent 3 hours on this, I’m not remaking it.”

“It looks like a kindergartener did it,” you note, eyes scanning the bubbly font and the orange-yellow combination used throughout the whole design when he offers the paper back to you. It looks like a Winnie the Pooh convention is taking place instead of an event full of nostalgic movies, and you would tell him that, but he beats you to it with a tired remark.

“Well, if my father wanted this to look professional, he should’ve hired someone to do it,” he mutters, obviously hurt by your harsh words, “I used Canva. I don’t know how Photoshop works and my dad can barely operate the computer, so this is what we’re going with, okay?” he says as he explains, big eyes suddenly bearing into yours. “Unless you wanna redo it yourself…?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then this is the final poster,” he says, “I’m gonna hang those outside when we close,” he notes, watching you scan the movie titles. The event will take place in 4 weeks from the middle of November to the middle of December (right in time for Christmas movies to air, since you’re certain Mr Kim has another Christmas-themed business tactic up his sleeve).

“Did any of your movies make it?” Sunwoo asks, surprisingly friendly. You can’t remember a single casual conversation with the male– all you two do it either give each other the silent treatment or scream at each other (more like you scream at him, but he always deserves it…), so you’re kind of surprised at the change. Not pleasantly surprised. Just surprised.

Eyes falling to the second movie on the list, you feel yourself nodding as you smile. It’s like a dream come true– you can finally see your favorite movie in the cinema for the first time. You don’t know who to thank for this miracle, but something in your insides feels very grateful.

“Yeah,” you say, trying to seem unaffected. You’d rather kill yourself than to show any signs of emotion in front of Kim Sunwoo. All he deserves to see is your stone cold face.

“Which one?” he asks, seemingly interested.

“National treasure,” you hum, pointing to the movie on the list, having Sunwoo nod to himself. You expect him to say something to you– perhaps engage in a conversation like a normal person would– but suddenly, he gasps and takes out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket, offering it to you and playing the role of the manager again.

“Oh, by the way,” he starts, watching as you unfold the paper, “I know we don’t usually work on Thursdays, but since my dad decided to do all of this, we kinda have to, since he wouldn’t be able to handle the premieres on his own, so… Here's your schedule for the next 4 weeks,” he says, clasping his hands together in front of him.

It takes everything in you to not correct the male and tell him that those are technically not premieres, but when your eyes land on the little Excel table Sunwoo printed out for you, the feeling is overpowered with one of deep disappointment.

“I work the second week?” you ask, as if the question might magically change the schedule.

“I mean, I think you can read…” Sunwoo hums, shrugging to himself.

A heartbeat passes by of you staring at the schedule, a pit opening in your stomach at the realization. You only work 2 Thursdays out of 4, noticing the fact that you rotate with Sunwoo (with him somehow taking the first week, much to your surprise), but for some reason, one of those days had to be the day when National treasure is on.

And sure, you might think this is good– you can just watch the movie while you work!

Wrong.

Working means either staying in the ticket booth the whole time in case a customer comes, working the snack booth the whole time in case a customer comes, or cleaning the bathrooms. Working means also standing in front of the screening room sometimes, making sure no one is going in without a ticket in the middle of the movie.

There is no time for you to watch National treasure if you’re working.

Sighing, you decide to do something you always prohibited yourself from doing– you ask Kim Sunwoo for a favor. “Listen… my favorite movie is airing the week I work, so I was… wondering if we could exchange shifts? So I could go and watch it?” you ask, looking at your coworker with what you presume are pleading eyes. You hope it works on the boy– he looks like the type to fold under a tender gaze.

“So you want to get out of work only to still come?” Sunwoo clarifies, snickering.

“Pretty much, yeah,” you nod, tapping your fingers on the table.

“Well, the schedule is set,” Sunwoo shrugs, “I can’t do anything about it.”

Eyes sending darts to the very middle of Kim Sunwoo’s forehead, you take a few calming breaths before you speak up again. You don’t want to blow up on him when you’re asking him for a favor– you don’t think this approach would help you much in the situation.

“Why?”

“Because,” he shrugs.

“Because?” you repeat. “That’s the reason?” you say, a weak laugh dragging out of your throat.

“Pretty much, yeah,” he mirrors your previous response, the blood in your veins already growing hot from the confrontation.

“Sunwoo, you– come on,” you say, “just this once, please? I’ll take the first week. We can just switch, what’s the difference?”

Sunwoo tongues the inside of his cheek, eyes pointing towards the paper. “Schedule is schedule, Y/N. You have to follow it,” he says, an innocent look glazing his big fuckass boba eyes. Oh how you despise that look. It’s the look that tells you he finds this all so, so amusing, but won’t laugh in your face in hopes of teasing you some more.

“Oh, amazing,” you say, throwing the schedule to the table, “I knew I could always count on you ruining my day, Kim Sunwoo. And I bet you did the schedule as well! You knew it was my favorite movie, so you made me work that week. Very nice of you, you dumbass. Thank you very much,” you grunt, annoyance flowing through your brain and making you truly merciless– you have no proof of Sunwoo even knowing which movie of yours made it in, or proof of him making the schedule– you don’t care, though. All you want at this moment is to claw his eyes out and pop them in between your fingers to ease the anger on your insides.

You can’t do that, though, so a screaming match will have to do the job.

“Stop being so dramatic,” he scoffs, eyebrows furrowing. “I didn’t even know which one your favorite movie was, so how could I do this on purpose? Plus, I didn’t even make the schedule, my dad did–”

“As if I would believe that,” you roll your eyes, huffing. “You’re all owner’s son privileges this, owner’s son privileges that, but when I ask you for one thing, one! Single! Fucking! Thing! You can’t do it,” you bite, words dripping in spite.

“Look, I really can’t-”

“You can’t do this one thing for me?” you cut him off, the question sounding like an ultimatum.

“No,” he shakes his head, seemingly unaffected by the conversation.

“Because…?” you demand a valid reason.

“Because I just can’t,” he shrugs, casual and cool.

The world stills for a moment. You calculate your next move. Blood rushes in your ears, you see red. Your eyes fall on the clock– it’s 4 minutes after your shift. That’s it.

You take your coat draped over the chair, stand up from the chair and dash towards the front door. You can’t stand being around this man any longer– all he does is bring misery into your otherwise, already boring life.

Speedwalking out of the place, you yell out a harsh “Go fuck yourself!” over your shoulder, leaving Sunwoo to close the cinema by himself. You don’t even change out of your uniform before you go– your head is too clouded with anger to remember to do so. Cursing out your coworker isn’t the best thing you could do in this situation, more so when he’s the owner’s son, but suddenly, you don’t really care about losing your job at the cinema anymore.

Maybe you should quit yourself, actually.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS (2003)

In your books, there aren’t many things worse than working three days in a row. You can only think of so many even when you try hard enough: like going to school in your pajamas, getting sick on the day of an important event, ripping your pants on the metro, standing outside of the cinema in a popcorn costume for 4 hours…

Yeah. Not too many.

So naturally, on the third day of your work week, putting one sweetened coffee into your stomach after another, barely keeping your head up from the lack of sleep you’re getting in between classes, work, and writing your essays until 3 in the morning, you beg god for a calm shift. It’s Wednesday, the first week of Mr Kim’s ‘Rewind Thursdays’ event, and it just so happened that you were set to work the first half of the week while Sunwoo got the other half.

The only thing keeping you going is the fact that you and Sunwoo will now basically not see each other’s face for the next four weeks– with the exception of Fridays and Saturdays, the premiere days. You’re getting a lot of shifts this month, but hey… Christmas is coming. At least you’ll have plenty of money to buy gifts for everyone this year. (Or not. You’re very underpaid.)

Entertaining yourself by watching the world outside of your window and mentally betting on the race of raindrops falling down the glass surface– because your phone battery almost ran out during class this morning and you forgot to bring your charger with you– you hope you don’t fall asleep right in this moment. Your boss is somewhere inside and if he oh just happens to check up on you (which he never normally does, but you can never be too sure), you’re certain you’d lose your job after taking a nap in the ticket booth. Some things just can’t be accepted.

Cat fights with his son? Perfectly acceptable. Sleeping on the clock? Not so much…

Eyes drooping when the third raindrop race doesn’t go the way you bet on in your head, you figure you can just rest for a second or two… Eyelids shielding your irises from the orange hues of the lights inside, your brain already turning off and preparing a happy dream for you, you think that taking a nap is not such a bad idea right now…

Wrong.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” the noise of a thunder– actually, no, that was just someone’s voice– wakes you up and makes you jump in your chair, your knee hitting the bottom of the table making you hiss in sharp pain.

“Fuck, man–”

“Didn’t know taking a nap was in the job description,” Sunwoo grins at you through the glass window of the booth. His eyes twinkle in amusement as you drag your hand through your hair, trying to smoothe it down after tousling it in your weird sleeping position.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” you mutter, not even meeting his eye.

“Oh?”

“Yeah… just had… my eyes closed…” you hum, scratching the back of your neck. Clearing your throat, you look back up at him with an disinterested look on your face. “Anyways, what do you want? You’re off today.”

Scanning his figure, fully taking in his appearance– the fabric of his dark gray hoodie a little stained with raindrops (you bet he ran from his car into the building without an umbrella. He seems like the type to be embarrassed about umbrellas.), the fabric of the garment enveloping his head and shading his face a little from the ugly yellow lights. His face is a little flushed– you presume it’s from the running– and his hair is falling into his face. You can barely see his eyes behind the curtain of chocolate locks– he really needs a trim.

“Damn, didn’t know you hated me so much that you can’t stand seeing me on my off days,” he jokes, leaning on the counter as if to stick his face as close as he can into yours. Thank god for the glass shielding you two– you think you’d give him a fist to the nose if you ever felt his breathing on your skin.

“I do,” you agree, impatiently drumming your fingers on the top of the table, “so tell me what you want so you can disappear again,” you say.

“I just went to check up on whether you were sleeping or not so I can tell my dad to fire you–”

“Kim Sunwoo–”

He puts his arms up defensively, eyebrows raising at your threatening tone. “Okay, not really. I don’t actually care that much. Besides, you promised to quit yourself anyway, so,” he explains, shrugging to himself, “believe it or not, I’m here to buy tickets for a movie.”

You shoot him a stare, the look in your eyes dead, stone cold as you ponder on his words. It’s cold outside, it’s raining, and Kim Sunwoo just happens to decide to buy tickets for a movie today. In a cinema that he works at. In a cinema that he works at tomorrow.

“You work tomorrow…?” you mirror your inner monologue, kind of confused at the turn of events.

“You know my schedule? I’m flattered–”

The irritation is slowly creeping into your bones again. Actually, it has been since he arrived, but the more he talks, the more agitating the whole encounter feels. Maybe you should tape his mouth shut the next time you see him– you bet the day would be so much better if you don’t have to listen to him talk.

“Why don’t you just buy the tickets tomorrow when you work? Didn’t have to walk here in the rain,” you explain, sighing to prove just how annoyed you are with his presence.

“Because I kinda need them today,” he says, clarifying to you with the tone you use when you explain mundane things to a child.

You don’t know what he did in his past life to get the ability to annoy you each and every time you meet him, but you’d like some of it to get back at him in your next life. Why you’re even thinking of past lives and the possibility of meeting Kim Sunwoo in your next one, you’re not really certain, but if it helps you to not smash the glass separating you two, you guess you can get behind the thought process.

“Okay,” you nod, painfully calm for the amount of screaming you’ve been doing internally, “what movie?” you ask, turning your body to the computer on your right and breaking eye contact with him. If he’s a customer, you’re going to treat him like one– no small talk and no arguments. You won’t ruin your day even more over a man that doesn’t know what chapstick is. (You don’t stare at his lips, just for the record. It’s just painfully obvious when he talks. Sometimes you want to reach over and pluck away the dead skin with your fingers– you won’t, though. That would be weird.)

Sunwoo straightens his back as he fishes for his wallet in the front pocket of his jeans. “National Treasure,” he smiles, making you break into cold sweat, “two tickets, please.”

Like a scene in a horror movie, your head turns without moving the rest of your body, eyes twitching when you see him standing at the other side of the booth, calm and collected. Suddenly, the scene makes sense– he bought the tickets to see your favorite movie on the day of your shift. Of course. He just has to rub it in your face.

Not only are you working that day. You will also most likely serve popcorn to him as he goes inside with whoever he is buying the second ticket for. And you will try not to trip him on his way inside the screening room.

It was a smart move for him to not go inside the ticket booth with you, even though he has all the right to. You bet he knows you’d claw his eyes out if you had the chance.

“You have to be kidding me.”

“What? I can’t buy tickets for a movie?” he asks, innocence dripping off his tongue.

Breathing deeply– while trying to contain the demon that’s begging to crawl out of your insides and tear him into 25 different pieces– you smile ironically at the male, gulping before you speak. “That would be 12 dollars, please,” you say, your customer service voice turning kind of eerie.

Not even letting the male choose his seats– he lost the privilege when he decided to come and buy the tickets for your favorite movie– you print out two tickets with the worst possible view (the ones in the first row, far right. If Sunwoo loses his neck because he has to look up at the screen for the entirety of the movie, well, who are you to hate that) and offer them to your coworker.

Like a mind game, the male slips them into his pocket without even looking at them, not breaking eye contact with you sitting behind the booth.

“Have a nice day,” he says as he takes two steps back before fully turning and escaping through the front door, figure dashing towards the old Prius parked in front of the building.

Bawling your hands into fists, you try the breathing exercises you found the other week. Calm your body and your mind, the title said. You knew you’d need those when you saved the post into one of your boards on Pinterest.

Still, you can’t help yourself. You simply cannot. You let it out– it’s not healthy to keep negativity inside.

He can’t hear you, but you still mutter a spiteful “I hope you choke,” under your breath as you settle back into the uncomfortable surface of the chair.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – YOU’VE GOT MAIL (1998)

Remember the time you said you didn’t really mind having more shifts in November, because it meant a bigger paycheck? Yeah… that was true. For a few days.

Until you got a phone call one day from none other than Kim Sunwoo– whose number you didn’t even want to save into your contacts, but after his insisting that it’s for work purposes, did so under the name ‘dumpster raccoon’– telling you that you have to get to work immediately, that his dad said so, and that it’s an emergency.

Do you believe him? No. Absolutely not.

His tone of voice was too calm to be in an emergency. If his dad wanted you to come to work today, he could’ve called you himself instead of making his son do it. And also, you really don’t know what’s so important to take care of on a Wednesday, since it’s the slow day of the week, but still– you angrily took off the facemask from your face before the timer even went off, shut your laptop with a half-watched episode of The office in your Netflix window, changed out of your comfy clothes and marched towards the cinema.

Because you never know. He might be saying the truth, after all. And if that was the case, you didn’t want to be caught disobeying your boss.

You get to the old movie theater on the corner of the town center at 4 in the afternoon. The sky is already getting dark and you feel the coldness of November seeping into your bones, and so you waste no time in getting inside and chasing the heat of the vintage-looking interior. Your boots make a thudding sound as you walk across the hall, seeing Sunwoo sitting in the ticket booth in his usual habitat: with his phone in his hands and his feet up on the table, chewing on his favorite strawberry mints. Now this sight screams emergency if you’ve ever seen one.

“What was so important for you to call me to work and then chill in the ticket booth all afternoon?” you ask, spite slipping off your tongue with every word you speak.

Sunwoo looks up at you from under his eyelashes, hair still slightly shielding his eyes. He doesn’t even have his uniform on– there’s a gray hoodie enveloping his torso (you swear he lives in this garment. You wonder if he even washes it sometimes) and black jeans hanging off his hips– and the more you stare at him, the more you feel like punching him in the face.

“Oh,” he hums, stretching out his limbs from the hours of sitting on the chair unmoving, “dad said to tell you to clean the screening room. Since it’s Thursday tomorrow, and all.”

The look on his face is innocent. He looks like he just told you the most casual piece of information– and truth be told, he kind of did. The whole thing is just not making any sense right now.

“I should clean the screening room today? You’re on the clock, though, why don’t you do it?” you ask, frustration clearly written all over your face. You were looking forward to having a self-care day today, so you can only imagine how tired of his endeavors you are right in this moment.

“Yeah, but I am on ticket booth duty, so I can’t,” he shrugs, frowning a little to prove his nonexistent point.

“It’s Wednesday. It’s not busy. You know you can do both.”

“Look, it’s not me, it’s my dad–”

“Is it? Is it, Sunwoo?” you huff, arms flying into the air. “Or are you just using me to do the work you don’t feel like doing? Because it really does seem like that right now,” you bite, running your hand through your hair in exasperation.

“Do you want me to call him?” Sunwoo asks, tone of voice suddenly threatening.

A heartbeat passes. You continue to have a staring contest with him. The fury inside of you rages like a storm. Still, you nod to the feeling of authority coming from your actual boss, and so you wordlessly turn on your heel and march towards the screening room, ready to clean the place in the least amount of time so you can go home and back to your selfcare endeavors. (You’re adding printing out Sunwoo’s face and throwing darts at it to the list of activities. You think you really need that right now.)

The screening room is dark when you come inside, and as you reach towards the lightswitch, you almost fear something jumping at you. See, the traumatic response from being locked up in the toilet from your coworker is still very present in your bones. When you stop working here, you’re going to ask for financial compensation for all the damage this boy did on your mental health.

You walk down the aisle of seats and try to inspect the damage. No movies air on Wednesday and there was only one kids movie going on Tuesday, so you can either expect it to be almost clean, or full of snacks that fell off the hands of grabby children during the cartoon. The more you inspect the place, though, the more it seems like… somebody already cleaned it before?

The floor is clean. The laminated surface under the seats has no smudge of dirt on it, like someone already mopped the place. And when you think back, the bins were empty as well.

The screening room was definitely cleaned before.

Which means that Sunwoo brought you here for absolutely nothing.

Suddenly, the lights go out. The whole room falls into darkness, and the anger inside of your veins very quickly mixes with panic as you try to climb up the stairs on the side of the screening room and escape. Your throat gets dry as you yell for your coworker, not really caring if your next outburst is going to get you fired or not.

“Kim Fucking Sunwoo, why the fuck did you call me to clean an already cleaned screening room?!” you yell, not really knowing if he hears you or not. Doesn’t matter– it feels cathartic to do so anyway.

Your feet stumble on the awkwardly-long stairs, your figure almost falling to the ground. Managing to hold yourself up and steady your body before your head hits the sharp corner of one of the stairs and makes you die, you continue on with your small tangent. “You really think this is funny? You’re having fun pranking me all the time? I hate your guts, Kim Sunwoo, and I hope you burn in hell!”

A bright light suddenly illuminates the screening room, coming from somewhere behind you. When you look over your shoulder, the screen is white for a few moments before the opening credits of a Jerry Buckheimer film flash on the big surface, halting you in your movements. The sound is a little too loud in the speakers, but it gets adjusted the moment you almost lose your hearing. The moment you see Nicolas Cage appear, it’s clear as day.

There’s a movie playing. And the movie playing is National treasure.

You think you’re hallucinating. This is surely a fata morgana.

Standing in the middle of the screening room, your mouth hangs agape and your eyes go wide as you watch the first few scenes of the movie. Ben Gates already learns about the hidden treasure passed down through American history when you feel a slight nudge to your shoulder, making you turn your head to see a tall figure staring you down with a bucket of popcorn in their hands.

You are confused. So utterly confused. The movie was on last week. You’d know– you worked the snack booth that day. The screening room is empty and it’s Wednesday– what’s going on?

“Can you sit? Or are you just going to watch the movie standing in the aisle,” Sunwoo grunts, balancing the big bucket of popcorn and two drinks in his large hands, the sight comical and almost making you want to watch him suffer some more.

Caught off guard, though, you let him back you into the aisle of seats, your figure slouching into one of the red cushions like a rag doll. Sunwoo takes place next to you, placing the big bucket of popcorn into your lap, before he settles into a seat as well and focuses his eyes and attention on the movie.

“What… what is this?” you ask, frozen in the seat.

“Hm?” Sunwoo frowns, looking at you. “National treasure,” he hums, “I thought you’d know, since you threw a scene about it that one time.”

“I- I know that, I just…” you trail off, still surprised at the turn of events, “what’s going on right now…?”

“We’re watching National treasure,” he notes, talking to you as if you were slow.

“What…?”

A sigh escapes Sunwoo’s lips at your utter confusion, his hand coming up to the bucket of popcorn in your lap and throwing a handful of the snack into his mouth before speaking. “Look, Y/N. You said you wanted to watch your favorite movie in the cinema, so that’s what you’re doing. Enjoy my owner’s son privileges for once,” he shrugs, watching as your face morphs into an unreadable expression.

That explanation satisfies you for a bit. The shock in your insides, though? Still present.

There’s something about the whole gesture that makes your stomach feel uneasy. Sunwoo did something nice for you– out of the kindness of his own heart– and you really don’t know why he would even think of something like this. You two aren’t on the best terms either, after all. Maybe he finally went crazy.

Or maybe you did and this was all the result of your imagination. Either or.

Yeah, you must be the one that’s gone batshit insane. Surely. You’re certain of the fact when you reach for the popcorn and accidentally touch his hand, the two of you deciding to get some at the same time, and your stomach does a flip and your brain makes a sign for you to quickly retract your hand– but the feeling of his slightly cold hand against your fingertips is now engraved into your memory and won’t leave and let you focus on the movie no matter how hard you try.

“You wouldn’t have to do this if you just let me switch schedules with you that time,” you note, “just saying.”

“I couldn’t,” he shrugs.

“Huh? But you bought two tickets..?”

“Yeah, but those were for my friends. I had to drive my mum down to grandmas that day, so I couldn’t go or take your shift that day,” he hums, not once breaking eye contact with the screen.

“If you would’ve just said so, I wouldn’t have made a scene about it–”

“Yeah… but I enjoy watching you make a scene,” he grins, shifting his attention towards you for a second with that lazy smirk playing with his lips. His hair is falling into his eyes and you have the urge to get it out of his face with a motion of your hand while also scolding him like a mother to finally get a haircut, just so you could see the twinkle in his mischievous orbs.

“You need to get serious help, then,” you grunt, pointing your gaze back towards the screen, unable to look at his face for any longer. He’s being annoying again. You’re annoyed.

“Probably,” he admits.

You two sit in silence for a while, the only sound accompanying you being the movie playing out on the big screen in front of you. You think this is the calmest you two have ever been around each other, and you’re starting to think that if Sunwoo just didn’t talk, you two could even get along.

Something touches the side of your thigh in the darkness of the room. Eyes darting to the source, you notice Sunwoo’s thigh pressing against yours, the cause of his obnoxious man-spreading, and something about the closeness of his body and the smell of his citrusy cologne makes you feel like your chest is heaving in on itself. You can’t stand him around you. You two can’t share this close of a space.

“Are you not leaving?” you ask.

“No,” he hums, “should I be?”

“Well, you’re on the clock…”

The man snickers, shaking his head in disbelief. “Y/N, you and I both know that the possibility of someone coming to buy a ticket on a Wednesday afternoon is close to zero. Me being there makes no difference in today’s sales.”

His hand knocks into yours again as you reach for more popcorn. You gulp, nodding. “Right…”

“And I wanted to see the movie to see if it’s really that good to make a scene about it,” he teases, another playful look sent your way from the corner of his eye.

You grunt, rolling your eyes. Oh how you hate his guts…

And even though you love the movie, you pray for it to end quickly. The more time you spend with Sunwoo forced into your zone of comfort, the more uncomfortable you feel– even the slightest movement of his body affects you and makes your brain turn on overdrive. It’s strange and it’s weird, and you don’t understand how hatred for a person could manifest in such reactions.

It’s better that you didn’t notice you two sitting in the love seat. God knows you wouldn’t handle that well. You’d rather die than to hold on to that knowledge.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – CLUELESS (1995)

They say that you only start realizing just how stupid people can be when you work in customer service. As one of the only three employees of the small, vintage cinema on the corner of the town’s square, you can only agree with the sentiment– you have a lot of stories to tell about the wonders of the human brain.

Like that one time you got screamed at because the movie tickets were ‘too expensive’ – because naturally, you should be able to change the price of them when asked. Or that one time you got screamed at because the movie tickets were sold out– because naturally, you should add more seats to the screening room just for the two middle-aged women to sit on during the premiere of the newest Orlando Bloom movie. Or when somebody yelled at you for the toilets being full after the movie– naturally, you are supposed to throw people out in the middle of them peeing. Or build new stalls. Either or.

They say that you only start realizing just how stupid people can be when you work in customer service, but truly, you also realize just how rude they can also be for no reason at all.

Much like today. It’s Friday, which means it’s premiere night. The tickets to all movies this week are sold out already, so no one is on ticket booth duty, and much to your relief, Mr Kim took the snack stand himself. Your responsibility for the day is scanning the tickets and then making sure no one is getting inside during the movie without a ticket.

It’s not a hard job. Not at all– you would even say nothing about working in the cinema is hard, when you don’t have an annoying coworker trying to make your whole life a living hell– but you see, customers love to make your job harder just by being unreasonably rude about things that are clearly out of your control.

“Sir, I really can’t let you in, I’m sorry,” you say, tone of voice polite despite screaming on the inside. In front of you is standing a tall man, maybe a few years older than you, the expression on his face full of anger and vexation. They say a customer is always right. You agree only when the customer looks like they could wait for you after work and beat you up in the bushes. Sadly, that still doesn’t mean you can let the man inside without a valid ticket.

“What do you mean? Little one, I’m telling you I bought the ticket here, so if you don’t let me in–”

“All tickets purchased for the screening should be able to scan through this, sir, and if it doesn’t work, I am not allowed to let you inside of the cinema,” you try to explain, getting kind of desperate. The line behind him was forming and the movie was supposed to play in a few minutes, so if you wanted to scan all the tickets in time, you had to be quick.

He wouldn’t budge, though. His eyebrows are furrowed and the guy behind him seems to be getting angry as well, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up alert, like a cat when it senses danger. You try your hardest to keep your tone firm, hands clasped politely behind your back. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir, or maybe check in with the owner about the issue? I don’t have the competence to–”

“Listen, I won��t be talking to anyone, because you will let me in, okay?”

“Sir, I can’t-”

Your sentence is cut off by the man again, his fury making you take a step backwards in fear. “And if you don’t, you will see the consequences.”

Gulping, you try to think of a way to get out of this situation. Mr Kim is too far away for you to call, and he is also busy– the line is long and Sunwoo isn’t working today. It’s just the two of you today, so your options are getting slimmer. You can’t let that man in without a working ticket– it seems like the one he’s showing you is either a fake one, or bought in another cinema– but it seems like if you don’t, he’ll have you dead before the next morning.

“So?”

Opening your mouth to answer (although your brain is still empty and you don’t even know what more to say), a low voice coming from behind you startles you in the middle of your crisis. “Is there a problem here?”

Turning your head to the source of the voice, you’ve never been more relieved to see Kim Sunwoo in your close proximity. You watch as he puts a rolled-up poster to the ground behind you before he takes another step closer towards your figure, his expression stone cold and glaring at the man in front of you.

“Your coworker here won’t let me in to watch the movie,” he complains, hand waving around in a threatening way.

Just having Sunwoo around makes you more confident. Clearing your throat, your eyes dart to your coworker, seeing his face morph into irritation. “It won’t scan his ticket, so…”

“If it won’t scan your ticket, it means it’s invalid and we’re not allowed to let you in,” Sunwoo says, tone of voice way less polite than the one you were using before.

“That’s ridiculous-”

“You are ridiculous,” Sunwoo grunts, annoyance clearly written all over his face. “You were asked to leave, so maybe you should.”

Truth be told, you’ve been in a couple of arguments with Sunwoo before. In none of them has he ever looked and sounded like this, though. You and Sunwoo argue with spite– sparks flying waiting to start a fire, curses and harsh words thrown around carelessly in moments of heated hatred. His tone is stern, but never threatening. Never mean. Not in the way he’s being right now.

It makes you stare at him wordlessly. He seems to be taking the lead in the situation, reacting territorially to the man in front of him. You can’t say you don’t feel safer with him around– you would be lying.

“Maybe you could just let me in and get this over with–”

“And maybe you could fuck off,” Sunwoo says back, something in his tone making your stomach feel all light. He looks serious, standing his ground, and the man finally seems to get the memo that he’s not watching the premiere tonight, because he backs off and grits his teeth at the male.

“Your boss will hear about this,” he threatens, making Sunwoo chuckle.

“I’m sure he will.”

Sympathetic looks are thrown your way from the women in the line behind that can finally come up to you so you scan their tickets. You smile at each one and try to seem unaffected by the exchange, but the memory of it still lingers in your brain and doesn’t make you rest easy as you greet the rest of the customers.

You didn’t even realize Sunwoo was still standing next to you, watching you work. He seems to recognise your shaken-up composure, tone of voice sympathetic and quiet as he asks: “You okay?”

“What?” you ask, surprised by the question, “oh. Yeah, I’m fine. He was just… being a bitch, the usual.”

“Yeah,” he snickers, “why didn’t you just scream at him like you do to me? I bet that would scare him away,” he notes, making you roll your eyes at the comment.

“Because he looked like he could beat me up, Sunwoo.”

“And I don’t?” he gasps, suddenly offended.

You scan the boy up and down, pretending to think it over for a few before you shake your head. “No,” you shrug, “I could beat you up.”

“Excuse you?” he gasps, crossing his arms at his chest in a defensive stance, the shock on his face mixing in with amusement.

“Don’t believe me? Wanna try?” you test, the conversation suddenly flowing freely, without you even noticing. You don’t pay it much thought, but you guess getting along with Sunwoo is easier when he’s on your side. Most of the time, he’s not, though– and maybe that’s the problem.

“Okay,” he nods, “meet me in the back when you’re off. No weapons allowed, we’ll do it the street style. This is a battle of fists,” he points a finger at you, the sentence making you sigh dreamily and point your eyes towards the ceiling.

“You can’t even imagine how long I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Sunwoo smiles at that– that dumb, boyish smile you usually so despise– and shakes his head at your antics. The conversation dies down a bit after the exchange– with you scanning the tickets and trying your hardest to make it through the line before the movie starts, when your coworker, dressed in none other than his signature gray hoodie and black jeans, nudges you with his elbow. “Want me to stay for a bit, or are you good now?”

“I can take care of myself, Sunwoo,” you sigh, “you can go about your day.”

“Well, it didn’t seem like it a few minutes ago–”

“I can take care of myself when I’m not confronted with a tall muscled man that is threatening me, Sunwoo,” you repeat, looking at the rest of the line, “so with him gone now, you can go about your day. What are you even doing here, by the way? I thought you were off today.”

“I am,” he nods, rocking a little in his place, shifting weight from his heels towards his toes, “I was just… here to drop off something for you,” he says, clearing his throat and pointing towards the poster he was holding when he first approached you, the shiny tube now resting against the nearest wall.

You shoot the boy a curious look, eyebrows furrowed in question. You don’t get to ask for clarification about the character of the poster, because he abruptly cuts off your train of thought, speaking fast as if to avoid making any more conversation with you. “I’ll see you in the back after you’re done for that fist fight, then. Bye!”

And before you get a chance to say anything back, Sunwoo swiftly turns on his heel and awkwardly marches towards the front door. You don’t have much time to inspect the thing he dropped off for you, but after you’re done with scanning the tickets and have time to breathe when the movie starts, you allow yourself to peek inside–

only to see a National treasure poster staring back at you, surface glossy and glimmering, as if you just opened a chest full of gold.

As you take the poster to the staff room with you (while also wearing a huge, embarrassing grin on your face for someone staring at the face of Nicolas Cage), making sure it’s safe and sound until you can bring it home with you, you wonder why you haven’t been civil with Kim Sunwoo before.

It’s good to have a taste of his owner’s son privileges sometimes.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – ME BEFORE YOU (2016)

The day is Friday, the 1st of December. Mr Kim’s ‘Rewind Thursdays' event is over and while Fridays are always the premiere days, meaning you usually have to work the evenings either in the snack booth or in the ticket booth, your boss told you you can have the night off under one condition– you come in the morning (since you told him your classes are done for the semester, he’s been keen on making you work at random times of the day) and help Sunwoo with Christmas decorations in the cinema.

And, well, who are you to say no to a free evening? Maybe you can finally have that self-care time you’ve been needing before your exam season starts.

“Can you get the ladder from the back?” Sunwoo asks, tone of voice not at all interested. You don’t know what the reasoning behind his mood is, but you figure it’s either the fact that he had to get up before 12, or the fact that he doesn’t really seem like the type to like decorating.

“Why don’t you get it?” you huff, wiping your forehead off the sweat that’s cumulated on it over the time you spent bringing out all the boxes full of decorations out of the staff room. “I brought everything in, maybe you can do some work for once.”

One would think your dynamics with Kim Sunwoo would shift after he’s been nice to you on multiple occasions. And sure, you don’t really fight with him as often and he hasn’t pulled a prank on you in a while, but some days, his whole presence is still just as annoying to you as it’s been for the past couple of months. There’s not really much you can do about it– especially not when he’s bossing you around and not doing any actual work himself.

“I built the christmas tree,” he grunts, opening one of the boxes full of ornaments, squinting at the contains with disgust on his face. “And I put up all the other useless stuff before you got here too,” he says, pointing a glare at you.

Looking around the theater, you notice various types of decorations all over the place. There’s some mistletoe hanging off the ceiling (which has you wondering how he even got it there in the first place) and garlands framing all the doorways– the greenery making the whole place decorated in a very vintage tone. It’s fitting to the theme of the cinema, though, and you can tell that Sunwoo really can’t be arsed to do any better, so you don’t mention it out loud in favor of avoiding another one of your petty cat fights.

Admitting your defeat, you storm back into the staff room and carry out the tall ladder, struggling to fit through the doorways and to cross the corners, praying to all higher forces that you don’t accidentally scratch off pieces of the wall on your way to Sunwoo.

You put down the metal construction with a loud thud, making the boy look up at you from beneath his bangs, the silent curse evident in his eyes. You don’t know what’s up with him, but again, you won’t ask. You try to tell yourself that you don’t really care either, but with every glance towards his direction, the question keeps bugging you and dancing around your brain.

You force yourself not to care.

Watching as he tries to untangle the Christmas lights, struggle evident in the frustration written all over his face, you sigh and walk over to him, taking the bundle of wire out of his hands and threading your skilled fingers through the lengthy cable. You’re an expert in untangling– you don’t own bluetooth headphones, so you do this pretty much every day before listening to some music. Your headphones love to tangle in your pocket no matter how neatly you try to keep them in your pants– it’s a mystery. Almost like the Bermuda triangle.

“I can do it myself,” Sunwoo huffs, eyebrows furrowing when he watches you work your magic.

“You seemed like it too,” you ironically note, letting the spiteful side of you win, enjoying yourself when you’re rewarded by the snarky roll of Sunwoo’s eyes– everything is back to normal. You two aren’t friends, you don’t like to be in each other’s presence, and no number of shiny stolen posters and private sessions in the screening room will ever change that.

“Hold this,” you say, thrusting the end of the cord into his hand, walking a few meters away from him as you detangle the lights, watching as he impatiently stomps the floor with his heel, reminding you of Snowball from The secret life of pets movie.

When you’re done and the Christmas lights are now a straight line of wire, you slowly walk over to the tall tree in the middle of the room, wrapping the lights around the fake forest-green needles. You’re glad that the lights are long enough to cover the whole thing and you don’t have to untangle another ones, and when you’re done, you watch your coworker plug them in, examining the small, colorful light bulbs.

“Okay, now the ornaments,” you say, more to yourself than to anybody in the room, as you waltz over to the boxes and take out the decorations varying in shapes and sizes. You don’t really know what color scheme Mr Kim wants you to go for– and you doubt Sunwoo is aware either, so you just take out the ornaments you find the most pretty and hang them all over the tree, making sure each branch is covered.

Sunwoo stands around for a while, unmoving as he watches you, before he sighs to himself and finally decides to help. You leave him be, thinking that it’s for the best if you two don’t speak today when he’s in such a bad mood, but you break that promise almost immediately when you stare back at the tree after retrieving some more ornaments from the box to your right and notice the almost painful clash of colors.

You should’ve known you can’t trust a man with decorating. The beautiful contrast of the baby pink and brown ornaments you put on the tree is now ruined by the green ones you intentionally left on the bottom of the box. The colors don’t go together at all and you want to claw your eyes out every second you have to stare at it.

“Sunwoo, those colors don’t go together at all,” you say, point and blank– no sugarcoating, no offensive words, just straight facts.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that tree looks terrifying, and it’s all because you ruined it,” you say.

Okay, maybe you are overreacting just the slightest. But isn’t there fun in making your coworker completely out of his mind? Is this your roles being reversed for the first time? Are you finally winning this little game?

Nevertheless, you are enjoying the outburst that follows from Sunwoo. Mainly because he looks like a child throwing a tantrum as he huffs and takes off the green ornaments he put on to the tree and throws the handful back into the cardboard box, not really caring if they break or not. You’ll be replaying this scene in your head forever before you go to sleep, for the absolute frustration and annoyance on his face is one of your biggest trophies. Right now, though, you’re battling the urge to laugh.

“Fine, do it yourself, then,” Sunwoo says as he walks away from the tree, choosing to sit on the floor cross-legged, taking out his phone and scrolling through social media.

Again, you don’t know what’s gotten into him today, but you force yourself not to care. You have a job to finish here so you can go home and enjoy your day, and that’s why exactly you just shrug and finish putting on the pretty ornaments, admiring your work every once in a while when you take a break and stare on the tall tree, kind of breathless from the beauty.

You’re not really big on Christmas, but you must admit that this is fun.

The sound of Sunwoo swiping through Instagram reels is the only thing accompanying your actions, and as you look over your shoulder and see his almost sad face, you bite your lip just to not ask him what’s the matter. You’re not supposed to care. And you don’t.

“Can’t you put some festive music on?” you ask instead, your lips just begging to have a conversation with the male, despite your best judgment.

“No,” Sunwoo barks back, not even taking his eyes off the phone as the sound of the reel changes into another one, a swipe of his thumb across the screen showing him another video.

Nodding to yourself, you carefully try to pick out your next words. Not really sure how to address the male, you choose to approach him with a hint of humor you’re not sure he’ll appreciate. “What’s up with you? You’re bitchier than usual,” you say, scanning the male with cautious eyes.

Sunwoo stops for a while– a millisecond of him halting his scrolling, an action you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t trying to see any shift in his composure– before he speaks up again. “Nothing,” he shrugs.

“Okay,” you say, a tone of voice full of doubt.

When you conclude that you’re not getting more answers out of him, you nod to yourself and dart back towards the Christmas tree, making sure you make more eye contact with the glossy ornaments than with your coworker sitting behind you on the ground. Not much time passes by before he speaks up again, though, tone of voice quiet and hesitant.

“I’m just not in the mood today,” he sighs, “I have a final next week and it’s stressing me out, I haven’t slept well in quite a few days, my dad’s making me work more than usual and on top of that, I absolutely hate winter.”

“You hate winter?” you choose to focus on the least serious topic of the little rant, not really knowing when your boundaries lay in discussing the more serious ones.

“Yeah,” Sunwoo chuckles, “it’s like a shittier fall. It’s cold and dark all the time. It would be different if it snowed, though. I love it when it snows.”

Snickering at his sudden confession, you shake your head. “You’re like a little kid.”

“I remember you calling me a child once,” Sunwoo hums in agreement.

“That was different,” you say, hoping to cheer the male up at least a bit with your usual quarrel.

“I figured by the way you threw the toilet brush to my chest,” Sunwoo laughs, the memory of torturing you fond in his brain. The poster he gave you almost made you forget about the fact that he managed to make your life a living hell for quite some time– maybe you should consider this a wake-up call.

The conversation quiets down for a bit, even the sound of Sunwoo’s Instagram reels discontinued as you two marvel in the now much more comfortable silence. Testing the waters, you clear your throat before speaking up again. “Don’t worry about that exam, by the way. I’m sure you’ll do well.”

“How would you know?”

“You’re clever. You need to be clever to come up with all various ways to make my life more miserable,” you say, smiling when you hear him let out a breath of air through his nose, signaling a silent laugh.

“Any advice on the sleepless nights?” he asks, tone of voice light and humorous.

“Less things in your head,” you hum, putting the last ornament onto one of the branches, satisfied with your work. “Or melatonin.”

“Noted,” he nods, sharing a smile with you.

Walking over to the boxes stored a few feet away from the male, you open up the slim one thrown on the side, holding up the star. Your eyes meet his, a carefree twinkle in your orbs when you try to cheer up the boy’s inner child by doing a child's favorite activity. “Do you want to put the star on?”

He fails you, though. “No.”

“Why not?”

“You decorated it all yourself, so you can do the star,” he shrugs, not really into your idea.

“Oh come on–”

“I don’t feel like standing up,” Sunwoo grunts, the joy on your insides finally dying down when you get a taste of his usual composure– the one that really can’t be arsed with anything.

Sighing to yourself, you waltz over to the tall ladder, and despite your biggest worries, you continue climbing up the metal construction even when it wobbles and makes you fear you’re gonna fall. The whole thing is kind of unsteady and makes your heart thump in your throat, but you choose to get it over with and finally climb to the very top, outstretching your arm and putting the star on top of the tree, the decoration process now done and freeing you off your today’s work responsibilities.

Something akin to satisfaction beams in your insides as you climb down the ladder, and now, you’ll write this off to you being a little too excited with the vision of a face mask and popcorn at home– but your leg slips on one of the steps and despite the ladder being now magically steady, your body comes crashing down to the floor.

A yelp fights out of your throat, hands go flying in a desperate need to steady yourself or hold on to something that would make you not fall hard against the marble floor, when a miracle straight down from heaven comes to rescue in a form of flesh holding you up and shielding you from the fall, a grunt landing in your ears when your body settles into soft fabric of dark gray.

Head snapping to the source of the arms around your waist, surprised at the person’s strength used to balance you two on your feet as you fell (well, your knees buckled, but still, they haven’t yet hit the ground), you notice a pair of chocolate orbs staring down at you through a curtain of dark hair, wide eyes scanning your face and breathing out a puff of air.

“Look where you’re stepping next time, for fuck’s sake,” Sunwoo huffs, watching as your brain tries to process the near-death experience.

Registering his arms firmly placed around your waist (now realizing the soft fabric was the hoodie he’s been living in for the past few months), the citrusy scent of his cologne makes your head spin, eyes scanning his face in quick motions, as if not aware of who was your savior. You wonder how he even got to you on time (not really noticing him walking over to the ladder as soon as he saw it wobbling under you, holding it down to keep you from toppling over), and when your eyes curiously gaze at his chapped, yet plush lips, the warmth in your stomach makes you finally snap out of it.

Untangling yourself out of his limbs, much like you did with the Christmas lights a few minutes ago, you clear your throat and try to get your breathing back to normal. Your knees are a little weak, but you write that off to the shock of falling.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you just agreed to put the star on,” you complain, straightening your clothes as you walk over to the empty boxes nearby, stacking them into one another and avoiding all possible eye contact with the male.

It’s working– at least that’s what you keep telling yourself– up until you hear him chuckle and see a pair of hands taking the tower of boxes out of your hold, a charming grin sent your way as he walks away from you to the staff room. “If you say so.”

Okay, so it’s not working.

You’re fucked.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE PROPOSAL (2009)

“So… I was thinking,” Sunwoo starts one day, a bundle of rolled-up posters stacked up in his arms like a pyramid, puffs of cold air making clouds appear in front of his face as he speaks, “would you want to go see a movie with me?” he asks, tone of voice casual, as if he was asking you about the weather.

The poster you’re currently putting up into one of the glass holders outside of the cinema almost slips out of your frozen fingers out of shock, your heart skipping a beat. “Huh?” you hum, taking out a container full of pins out of your coat pocket and securing the poster to its designated place. “You want to bring money to your father’s competitor?” you joke.

“What? No,” he quickly replies, furrowing his brows as he shakes his head. “I meant, like, here,” he says, nodding towards the building to prove his point, taking a step aside when you close the glass door of the poster holder and move towards the next one, 3 more movie banners left to put up outside of the cinema.

The wires in your brain work on full force, trying to clear out any confusion caused by his sudden invitation. Sure, you two have gotten closer ever since you talked with him at the Christmas tree a week ago, but still, you didn’t know it was enough to hang out outside of work hours.

Instead of focusing the conversation on this unpredictable development, you turn towards clearing out the logistics instead. “How would we even do that? We either work at the same time or you work when I don’t and the other way around,” you say, taking the next poster from him and putting it up.

All of the movies airing the next two weeks are Christmas movies. Some of them are old, some of them are premieres, but still– you can’t really imagine watching a festive movie with your coworker. Up until last week, you thought of him as the next reincarnation of Grinch.

“I could get my sister to switch with me on a day you don’t work,” he hums, sheepish about his preposition. There’s something bashful in his tone, something shy in his gaze as he watches you put up the movie poster, but you try your hardest to ignore it for the sake of your sanity. You’re already having a hard time dealing with the fact that he appeared in your dreams twice since he caught you in his arms last week. You don’t need to add the switch in dynamic to the mix.

“Isn’t she underage?” you ask, snickering.

“Yeah, and?” he shrugs. “It’s a family business, Y/N. Everyone has to be included, underage or not.”

A laugh erupts out of your throat at the comment, shaking your head at the boy in disbelief.

“What would you even wanna see? Those are all Christmas movies,” you say, moving along and focusing your attention to the glossy material in your fingers.

“I don’t see how that’s a problem,” he says.

“Oh, it is,” you mutter, “I don’t like Christmas movies.”

Sunwoo grunts. “Well, I don’t really care. I saw your favorite movie with you, so you can return the favor and see my favorite movie with me,” he speaks up, making you roll your eyes at his words.

“There’s no way any of those movies is your favorite,” you note, doubtful tone haunting the boy.

“You wouldn’t know,” he laughs, making your heart do cartwheels at the sound, his teasing making you feel warmth despite the cold breeze trying to make your bones freeze into blocks of ice.

“I won’t go unless I believe you,” you say, grinning as you close the glass box and take the last poster out of Sunwoo’s hands, watching as the boy puts his frozen fingers into the comfort of his warm jacket, shielding them from the cold.

“Not fair.”

“Very fair, actually.”

“Oh come on,” he sighs, shaking his head in disagreement, “I thought we could watch a Christmas movie as a celebration to the end of semester,” he says, tone of voice almost pleading.

Securing the last banner into its designated place, you turn towards Sunwoo with an examining look on your face. He seems to be completely serious, eyes big pools of honey as he watches your face morph as you think. Something in your stomach makes it feel like it’s flying, making you clear your throat as you avert your gaze towards the line of Christmas movie posters on the brick wall. “Fine,” you gulp, “so what do you wanna watch?”

“The Polar Express,” he says, pointing towards the A3 scale you put up last, showing one of the movies that were older, but Mr Kim decided to air anyway– as if he was aware.

Fuck, you think. That’s my favorite.

“Absolutely not,” you cough, “I hate that movie.”

“Huh? How?” he sighs, face full of disappointment.

“Just because. It’s too long.”

“It’s not even two hours?”

Eyes quickly darting towards the poster, pupils shaking as you look towards the airing dates at the very bottom, you chew on your bottom lip, trying to find a way out. “You’re working on the 18th.”

“Okay, then we can go on the 19th,” Sunwoo says, determined to make you watch the movie with him. Why? You don’t even want to know at this point.

“I go home for Christmas break on the 19th,” you say, shrugging. “See? It wasn’t meant to be.”

“Y/N, come on–”

“Listen, can’t we just go back to hating each other instead of you annoying me about this stupid movie?” you sigh. In the whirlpool of events, you forgot just how insistent Sunwoo could be– who knows, maybe this was the real reason why you were so irritated with him in the first place.

Slowly walking back towards your workplace, hearing Sunwoo’s sneakers hit the ground behind you as he trails after you like a lost puppy, a sense of momentarily victory flows through your veins when you recognise that you found your way out. There was no way Mr Kim would let his underage daughter work instead of Sunwoo, and you truly were leaving home the evening of 19th. You already had a train ticket– you’re not gonna change your plans because of a man you despised just a few days ago.

“I never really hated you, by the way. Besides, you’re only saying that because you hate the movie,” Sunwoo grunts, chiming in front of you– making you think he’s being petty and doesn’t want to talk to you anymore, surprising you when he opens the door for you and offers you a solemn gaze, waiting for you to walk through the entryway and go back to work. (For you, it’s sitting in the ticket booth in silence. For Sunwoo, it’s pretending to work in the back, since his dad is absent today again)

Reciprocating his gaze, noticing the disappointment behind your coworker’s eyes, you feel something in your stomach drop, the weight of it so heavy you quickly avert your look.

“Maybe,” you shrug.

And maybe, the true reason is something completely else.

The words resonate through your brain– ‘I never really hated you, by the way’. Funny. Then what were all those months of torture all about?

You decide you no longer want answers.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – WHEN HARRY MET SALLY (1989)

You can’t believe you’re doing something nice for Kim Sunwoo.

Shoes hitting the gravel, your scarf pulled up so it covers your nose from the ice cold air, a hat hugging your head in warmth and shielding you from the aggressive weather, you start to contemplate your choices and your next moves. A sigh escapes your throat when your eyes land on the marquee above the entrance of the movie theater, teeth chewing on the inside of your cheek as you shift your weight from one foot to another.

Pulling out your phone to check the time, a shiny 7:24PM stares back at you, pushing you to walk up to the door of your workplace on your day off, 24 minutes after the beginning of The polar express.

You feel silly. You feel oh so stupid when you push the door open and your body is immediately engulfed in warmth, the yellow dim lights of the cinema making your eyes slowly adjust to the brightness contrasting the darkness of the outside world. You feel like you must have gone crazy, especially when your insides start to get all light and bubbly, hints of nerves tingling at the tips of your fingertips and the deepest corners of your stomach. There’s no turning back now, you tell yourself– and when your feet automatically take you to the ticket booth, gaze landing on the boy with his bangs in his eyes and an expression worthy of a kicked puppy on his face, you suddenly feel like your trip to the cinema was all worth it.

Clearing your throat, you notify your coworker of your presence, his big, doe eyes staring at you in surprise. Sunwoo’s mouth goes agape, shock overtaking his features when he takes in your appearance. (You bet he thinks you look laughable– your eyes teary from the cold and your figure stoic, numb limbs hanging by your side.)

“What are you doing here?” he asks, the question not as aggressive as it sounded out of your lips every time he paid a visit to the cinema on his days off for all these months.

“Uh… I forgot some things in the back and I wanted to take them home tomorrow, so I came back for them,” you hum, the practiced excuse slipping out of your lips with ease, “can you come help me?”

Sunwoo looks even more surprised at your question– although there is now a hint of confusion in the mix. What could you possibly have in the back to need his help with? For as far as he knows, you only ever kept your work uniform in your locker. “What? Can’t you get it yourself…?” he asks, noticing as you shake your head in disapproval.

“It’s… it’s on the top of the lockers and I can’t reach it, so-”

“Grab a chair…?”

You didn’t really expect to have Sunwoo question your half-assed excuse. Truly, you thought this was going to go smoothly– but knowing Kim Sunwoo, you should’ve known it was never going to go the way you planned. You’re determined to win, though.

And so it’s the time to bring out the big guns– men never say no when you praise them and make yourself look incompetent.

“Please? I don’t feel like bringing a chair and you’re tall enough. It will only take a second…” you pout, watching as the male in front of you sighs and stands up from his seat, nodding at your humble request.

Sunwoo follows you as you walk down the corridor, your heart thumping with the start of your little plan. Your steps are calculated and your movements carefully programmed, the nervousness in your stomach making you even more giddy with every meter of distance you two cross.

Before you two get a chance to make it to the back, you make a swift turn and open the doors to one of the rooms on the left of the hall, dragging Sunwoo by his hand and tugging him inside. His body stumbles against yours, but the door closes behind him faster than he can react to the impact. Steadying the boy back to his feet, you watch him with anticipation, awaiting his reaction.

The truth is, you haven’t thought the plan out this far. The depiction of it in your brain always ended with you sneaking him into the projecting room and his curious eyes peering into yours. Something about the image of the events always made you feel too overwhelmed– you never dared to imagine the situation further. (That would mean admitting some hidden desires to yourself, so you never even tried. That all makes this situation twice as nerve-wrecking, though.)

“What… are we doing here?” he asks, eyes darting around the darkness of the projection room, the only light illuminating his pretty features being the movie playing behind the glass of the small booth.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to watch The polar express with me?” you ask, voice a few octaves higher than usual.

“I… did…” he mumbles, confusion making him stumble over his own words.

“Well, you are working and I leave tomorrow, so I figured I had to find a way…” you shrug, watching as Sunwoo looks at you a little frozen, big eyes staring you down, gears turning in his head. You can’t really read him– you don’t really know if he’s going to laugh at you or send you home for ruining his shift. You don’t know if he appreciates the gesture, or if he thinks you’re being embarrassing. You don’t know if he registers the slight tremble of your hands and the lightness of your breathing, you don’t know if he realizes how much his reaction could make your day or completely ruin it (just like always), and so, you panic– and when you panic, you ramble. “I know we are technically not supposed to be here– well, me, at least– but I think that being with the owner’s son could make my boss let me off even if he somehow finds out, which I doubt he will, but–”

Sunwoo’s face starts slowly morphing, the slightest of shifts slowly adding up to a change of expression, having the male break out into the biggest, happiest grin you’ve ever seen him sport. His eyes light up and glaze your features in the softest of touches, his head shaking in disbelief. “Oh, you’re adorable.”

“What?” you ask, your heart doing seven somersaults and five cartwheels, eyes a big pool of surprise.

“You did this for me?” he beams, his grin so big and pretty it takes your breath away. Butterfly wings tickle in your stomach at the sight, having you mentally curse yourself– hold it together, Y/N.

“I- I mean, I didn’t really do anything, we just sneaked in–”

“This is the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me,” Sunwoo hums, the teasing tone making its comeback in his voice, “actually, this might be the first sweet thing you’ve ever done for me–”

“Well, okay,” you roll your eyes, an embarrassed laugh dragging out of your throat as you turn on your heel and walk closer to the little table in the opposite end of the room, needing to avert your gaze from the boy for at least a second. The air is suddenly too heavy and it’s hard for you to breathe, heat rushing to your cheeks.

Eyes focusing on the screen in front of you, your brain tries hard to focus on your favorite Christmas movie. Failing, your head running thoughts full of conflicting emotions and erratic exclamation marks screaming the name of the boy behind you, you ask yourself how and when exactly you’ve gotten yourself into this mess.

Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten this job in the first place.

Ears painfully alert, listening to each sound heard in the small projecting room– the shuffling of Sunwoo’s feet as he nears your figure, the muffled noise of the movie playing in the screening room in front of you, the resonance of your own heartbeat in your ears as Sunwoo’s hands suddenly sneak around your middle, your jacket squeaking from the contact of his limbs as he hugs you.

“What–”

“Don’t fight me, Y/N. Just this once,” he hums, voice deep, but still a bit hesitant. It’s like he’s walking on unsteady land, cautious of his movements in fear of making you run away. He’s in a new territory, in your personal space– the scent of his cologne fills your nostrils again as his head settles itself on your shoulder, the two of you silently watching the movie for a few seconds, not really knowing how to proceed.

There’s something intimate in the way he holds you, in the way the movie is a mere background noise to the marathon of your thoughts, the blue light illuminating your faces as you both try your hardest to keep your cool.

A flashing thought of just how much you from a few months ago would hate the position it’s in right now passes by your brain, making you instantly feel foolish. Oh how much you’d love it if you stood here unaffected right now– there’s no way to battle the warmth flooding your insides right at this moment, though.

“This is nice,” he mumbles, voice barely louder than a whisper. “Thank you,” he says, your insides squeezing at the sincerity. It’s not often you get to see this side of Sunwoo– the sweet, patient one, the side of him that makes you feel safe in his arms and appreciated with the soft tone in his words. And while you realize you don’t hate the playful side of him just as much as you thought you did, you must admit the novelty of the situation makes you feel a bit more joyful than you’d like to admit.

The weight of his head disappears from your shoulder, making you feel momentarily disappointed by the action. You expect him to pull away and take a seat on the chair, to finally focus on the movie playing in front of your eyes, the thought alone making your spirit fall. The fire in your inside lights up like a match thrown into a pool of gasoline just as fast again, though, when you feel soft lips come in contact with your cheek.

They stay only for a second before they disappear, an airy laugh landing in your ear a second later. “Please don’t run away now,” he says, tone of voice uncertain, telling you that now the ball is in your court– your next actions could either make him the happiest man on Earth, or completely break him.

The choice is yours.

Your head turns his way, eyes instantly locking with his brown orbs searching for any signs of discomfort in your face. Slowly, as if still processing the events of before, your eyes trail over his features– the awfully handsome way his face was sculpted, the softness of his eyes and the sharpness of his jaw, the slope of his nose and the plushness of his lips. They’re not as chapped today, making you wonder if he started wearing vaseline, and before you get a chance to stop yourself, you start wondering of the way his lips would feel on yours, imagination running wild.

He heaves out a shaky breath, your eyes darting back into his– as if to ask for approval, see if he’s okay with it. There’s a dazy look in them, gaze pressed to your lips, then to your eyes, then your lips again– a look you take as an invitation as you act against all your best judgment and lean towards him, pressing your mouth against his.

As if testing the waters, you make the kiss short. It was long enough to engrave it into your brain, though– to remember the way his perfectly shaped lips pressed against yours, the way the world stopped just for a moment, the way he tasted of the strawberry mints he always eats at work whenever he has nothing to do.

Sunwoo seems to find liking in the action– lips glazing yours again, pressing another peck to them before he deepens the kiss, the tingling in your fingertips intensifying and the excitement bubbling in your frame making you turn in your position, front facing him and pressing up against his chest. His hands quickly adjust, slipping under your opened jacket and settling on your clothed waist, the slightest contact making your knees weak and settle your bottom against the table behind you, hands grabbing the fabric of his sweatshirt.

He pulls back to catch some air, a boyish grin breaking out on his face, forehead knocking against yours in a sweet, giddy manner. “I’ve wanted to do this for months,” he huffs.

The sentiment makes a thousand question marks appear in your head– why did he make your life a living hell, then? Why did he pull pranks on you and make you hate every second spent with him? Why did he make you so furious each time and argued with you about the smallest things? How could Sunwoo possibly have wanted this for months, when you just only started noticing his attractiveness a few weeks ago?

“Why–”

“I’ll tell you later,” he says, cutting you off as he presses his lips against yours again, your mouth automatically welcoming his presence. Brain erased of all previous questions, his kisses working like a spell, you focus all your senses on the man in front of you.

Having your hands feeling up his abdomen, Sunwoo hesitantly asks for entrance with his tongue, running it along your lower lip until you welcome him in. You like this type of power battle much more than the one you had going on until now, and with each new movement, you feel yourself falling apart under him.

His fingers tug down on the sides of your jacket, pulling it down. You don’t need it anymore– with how heated you’ve gotten, you are actually kind of happy that it is gone. One of his cold hands sneaks under the hem of your jumper, fingertips trailing up and down your side, the other one tugs down the hat from your head, discarding it somewhere on the table behind you before it finds its place on the side of your jaw, angling your head in a way that allows him to deepen the kiss even more, the contact of your lips growing firmer as seconds go by.

Your scarf is swiftly untangled off your neck, Sunwoo’s skilled lips blindly trailing down the side of your mouth towards your jaw, feathery kisses ticking you before he gets more bold and sucks on the side of your throat, a shaky breath shyly escaping your lips.

“Sunwoo…” you say, tone of voice not really present, no real intention behind the call of his name.

The boy hums against your neck, having you gasp again when he lightly bites the softness of your skin, your hands shooting up to tangle in his hair when he licks the spot to soothe it after. Threading your fingers through his locks to ground yourself, you can’t believe you ever hoped for him to get a trim.

His hands firmly hold the underside of your thighs before he hoists you up on the table, continuing his confident attack on your neck when you’re sitting comfortably on the hard surface. It’s not like you didn’t feel excited, the tiniest bit thrilled at the mental image of his possessive marks all over your throat, but you were glad it was freezing outside and you could wear a turtleneck to hide the bruises from your family tomorrow. He nuzzles his nose into the hot skin of your neck, the action making you grin in ecstasy and endearment.

Getting lost in the way he was handling you, his touches firm, yet delicate, acted out in a way that makes you feel safe and comfortable with his passionate ministrations, you almost don’t notice the door swinging open, the figure of your boss like striking like the lightning in the doorway of the screening room.

“Sunwoo!”

The boy jumps, his body quickly ungluing itself off yours, as he listens to his father scolding him. “I don’t care what you two have going on over here, but you’re on clock! There’s a line waiting for the tickets for tomorrow’s movie and someone has to sell them right now.”

The boy clears his throat, voice a little hoarse. “Coming,” he says, trying to keep his composure. His hair’s a little tousled, cheeks rosy and lips puffed– the image that will haunt you in your sweetest nightmares now– and before you get a chance to say anything or let your brain process the events of the last few minutes, your panic works faster, making you act.

Quickly scattering for your things, you run out of the projecting room without saying goodbye to either Sunwoo or your boss, never once looking back.

You think of what you’ve done on your way home, bones freezing now that they weren’t in his presence. You try hard to regret your actions, but you don’t find it in you to do so– it’s kind of hard with the feeling of his lips still playing with yours.

Even though you’d hate to admit it just a few weeks ago, you must do it now.

Kim Sunwoo does make a really good kisser.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2005)

There are many thoughts swimming around your brain as you walk through the coldness of the town the next day, your duffel bag hanging off your shoulder. There’s a conflict between the actions of your body and your thoughts – feet on their journey to the train station, but head stuck in the small projection room of your workplace, your coworker’s kisses occupying your every sober thought.

It’s not surprising, but you haven't heard from Sunwoo since you left the cinema last night. Not a single text or a call– but you figure that this is just your dynamic. Sunwoo’s never been much of a texter when it came to you. He’s never had the reason to text or call you, unless it was work-related, and you think it will stay that way, even though you did make out with him just last night.

Maybe he regretted it. Maybe he just didn’t feel like pondering on the events any longer– maybe it was just a one-time thing for him and he didn’t put much significance to it. You wouldn’t know– it’s not like you’re suddenly an expert on the way he feels and operates.

You, though? How do you feel about the turn of events? Despite not wanting to admit it to yourself, the answer came to you the second you tried to fall asleep last night, every soaring thought in your brain showing you the reflection of his dazed look, desires of wanting him to look at you that way all the time oh so skilfully infesting themselves into every crevice of your neocortex. You want Sunwoo to like you. You want Sunwoo to want you. You want Sunwoo to be so enchanted with your existence that he thinks about you before he goes to sleep at night– just like you have done for the past few weeks.

The answer comes to you again when you feel something wet fall on the top of your cheek, making you turn your eyes towards the sky. Your breathing comes out in puffs of air as you watch the magic happen right in front of you– and as you watch the snowflakes scatter all around the place, you are in another inner argument. While the rational side of your brain is screaming at you to keep walking to the station so you don’t miss your train home, the delirious side is cooperating with your feet for once, your figure crossing to the other side of the street and walking over to the place you could get to even with your eyes closed at this point; all because you suddenly remember the conversation you had with Sunwoo when you were putting on ornaments to the Christmas tree.

It’s the first snow of the season.

Kim Sunwoo loves it when it snows.

Speed-walking towards the vintage movie theater at the corner of the town’s square, you feel something akin to childish excitement bubbling in your insides, a hint of nervousness inviting itself into your insides when you push the door open and aim straight towards the ticket booth, where you know Sunwoo will be sitting, wasting another shift away.

He’s there– eyes pressed towards the window, gaze following the snowflakes kissing the cold ground. You expected more excitement in his character, more childlike joy in his figure– and after taking in his composure: shoulders slouching and fingers picking at the skin of his cuticles, you suddenly feel silly for coming.

Well, here goes nothing, you think.

“Sunwoo,” you call, making the boy snap his head towards you in surprise, big eyes meeting yours the moment he recognises your voice.

You don’t receive a verbal response for a while. The boy just stares at you, a bit hesitant and clueless. His face reminds you of a small puppy trying to take in the new situation in front of it. His lips are formed into a small pout, gears in his brain turning and trying to process the reality of having you standing there, face beaten from the cold.

Clearing your throat, you try to take charge of the situation. “It’s snowing outside,” you say, eyes peering out of the window, all thoughts suddenly escaping your brain, words blanking off your tongue, “and, well… you said you like the snow, so…”

The boy’s mouth hangs agape, a twinkle in his eyes slowly appearing once again when he stares at you, your nervousness doing wonders to your conversation skills. “I- I don’t even know what I wanted to say with that, it’s just- I don’t know… I saw it was snowing and I automatically came here, so-” you stutter, the sentence cutting off as Sunwoo jumps to his feet and grins, wordlessly taking your hand into his and dragging you outside.

The duffel bag falls off your shoulder somewhere in the middle of the hall, discarded to the floor, before Sunwoo sharply halts in his steps and runs back towards the ticket booth, still dragging you with him by the hand. The boy grabs something off the table, the item not visible in your rear point of view, and before you have a chance to register what’s happening, you’re outside of the building again, coldness instantly slapping you in the face.

It’s dark out, but the heaviness of the snow provides enough light in the silent evening for you to see where you’re going under the yellow lampposts on the street. Instantly noticing the lack of Sunwoo’s warm hand in yours when he suddenly lets go, you turn your head to look at the male.

Terror fills your veins when you notice him gathering snow from the ground and pressing it into a tight ball, a screech escaping your throat when you watch him swing it at you, a playful, boyish grin playing with his features. The male chases you around and most of the snowballs don't even hit your running figure (he does have an awful aim), but you still duck anyway and try your hardest to win your snowball fight.

Numb fingers creating snowballs and halting them at his tall frame, but missing most of the time due to his fast reflexes, you laugh and let go of all the worries and questions clouding your judgment. Sunwoo looks enthusiastic, so much more lively than when you found him in the ticket booth just a few minutes ago– but that’s still not enough for you to let him win.

Gathering the icy texture into your hands, you run towards him, taking advantage of his inattention as he’s bent over and taking more snow into his hold, and halt the whiteness into his face just as he straightens his back and wants to prepare for his attack.

More laughter bubbles out of your chest when you watch him drop his snowball to the ground, admitting defeat. The snow is all over his face– slowly running down his cheeks like teardrops, redness tinting his nose and the sides of his face.

The male shudders from the cold, and you instantly start feeling bad. Only now you realize that he ran out without a coat, a gasp escaping your throat. “Oh god,” you mourn, hands flying towards his frozen face to wipe off the snow from his cheeks, fingers carefully tracing over his cold skin. His eyes open as he watches you, something in his gaze so tender you feel yourself melting even in the middle of the snowstorm.

The male shuffles his hands into the front pocket of his gray hoodie, taking out the item you now recognise to be the hat you accidentally forgot in the projecting room yesterday (and already mentally paid goodbye to), his frozen fingers tugging the fabric onto your head.

“Why are you putting this on me? You’re the one that’s freezing over here!” you scold him, shaking your head at the male.

He rewards you with an amused grin, watching your next moves. Acting on auto-pilot, not really putting much thought into your actions, you unzip your jacket and step impossibly near to the male. Holding the jacket open, you hug him around his middle, making sure you are sharing the warmth with him and keeping him as close as possible, shielding him from the cold with both the fabric of your puffer jacket and the heat radiating off your body.

Faces just inches away from each other, you peer at his face. He wears a warm expression, eyes peeking out from behind his dark bangs. Clouds of breath escape his mouth when he speaks, voice quiet, as if to not ruin the atmosphere. “I thought you would regret it,” he says, making you break out into a foolish smile.

“I thought so too,” you nod.

“And you don’t?”

Shrugging, you reply. “Not really.”

“Why?” he asks, suddenly doubtful. “You said you hated me. Which was odd to hear, honestly, since I did all this to get your attention anyway and I thought it was just how our dynamic works, but… I could see how it could be annoying to you…”

Chuckling, you roll your eyes at the sudden revelation. It’s sickeningly sweet how endearing he looks when he doubts himself, explaining himself to you in a nervous blabber. “I don’t hate you. At least not anymore.”

“You don’t?”

“No,” you shake your head, a tender gaze shared between the two of you, “I actually quite like you, I think…” you mumble, a little bashful to admit it out loud.

“You do?” he asks, the twinkle in his eye glimmering twice as much as ever before, tone of voice playful, yet laced with honest joy and surprise at your confession.

“I do,” you nod, voice barely louder than a whisper as you watch him lean closer towards your face, cold nose bumping into yours before he angles his head, breath mixing in with yours in the few seconds before he dares to kiss you again, capturing your lips with his.

The kiss is sweet. The kiss tastes of strawberry mints and the first snow, of unsaid confessions and longing looks sent your way every time you weren’t looking. The kiss makes your stomach fill with a thousand little butterflies, it melts away the ice around you, the two of you like a spark of a fire in the middle of a snowy land.

His actions have your composure faltering, hands untangling from behind him and moving up to cradle his face. He melts under your touch, leaning into you as your fingers trail over his cheekbones. Holding on to him, thumbs padding his soft skin, you’re reminded of the cold only when he breaks off you and shudders again, teeth clattering from the freezing temperature.

“Let’s get you inside,” you say, planting a short peck to his lips, “before you turn into an icicle,” you giggle, watching as he scrunches up his face.

“I won’t,” he shakes his head, “love warms me up,” he grins, making you roll your eyes at his bold statement.

“You’re so cheesy.”

“But you quite like me anyways, no?”

Sighing, moving away from him and tugging him back inside the cinema, you shake your head at the boy. “I’ll think about it on my train home,” you bite back, opening the door to the theater and aiming towards the duffel bag you dropped on your way out.

Sunwoo watches you with a warm gaze, an adorable smile playing with his lips. His figure seems to be visibly taking in the heat again, his face adorning a flush, pink color.

“So I take it as you’re not quitting anymore, then?” he teases as you walk back to the door, both of you ignoring the customers waiting for their tickets in the line in front of the forgotten booth.

“We’ll see,” you shrug.

“I’ll text you the schedule for January?”

“You better text me about something else too, Kim Sunwoo,” you bark back, opening the door towards the cold landscape, “or you’re gonna have a very uncomfortable return back to work in January!”

The boy laughs, the noise like a Christmas carol to your ears. “Noted.”

Slipping outside, you watch as he waves at you goodbye, your feet dragging through the snow towards the train station having more pep to their step now. You don’t even know if you can make it to the train on time, but you surprisingly have no regrets– you can always catch the next one, right?

Mentally wanting to slap yourself for the lovesick grin playing with your lips, you sigh.

The male that once made your life a living hell is now the one you look forward to seeing the most once you come back after Christmas break. It’s kind of strange, really.

One would think that working with movies on the daily would prepare you better for the biggest plot twist of your life.

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luna-cove · 2 months ago

Text

Double Trouble | Luke and Kieran ft. Sylus

✧ summary: you take a quick liking to luke and kieran, they do the same.

✧ pairing: luke x female reader, kieran x female reader, sylus x female reader

✧ word count: 9.5K

✧ genre: smut, slight angst and fluff

✧ warnings: explicit sexual content, porn with little/no plot, dubious consent, manipulation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, threesome, vaginal sex, dirty talk, blindfolds, rough sex, oral sex(m! and f! receiving), masturbation, mask kink, fingering, finger sucking, face fucking, teasing, creampie, choking, degradation, praise kink, name-calling, pet names, switch!reader kinda,

✧ a/n: i posted this two months ago?? on ao3?? yeah so this was my first ever smut so it’s not great but i’m learning lmao. enjoy and be kind. this was inspired by milkandstarlight on here and one of their posts abt the twins <3

You woke up with your wrists and ankles bound and in a random man's car. You must of finally made it to the N109 Zone.

Your mind was still hazy from the drugs wearing off. Everything was happening so fast and the next thing you knew you were thrown on the ground, the dried grass straching against your palms that caught yourself. Dead trees adorned the dark gray, cloudy sky. You say a mausoleum not far from you, assuming it must a been a cemetry before the incident that happend years ago. A man appeared in front of you, only pulled out a knife and start searching over your body for the Aether Core as he held it near your throat. Like an angel from above, you heard a voice call out.

"Kidnapping Onychinus' prey without letting us know... That's not exactly polite."

The sky turned a light red at the voice. The man got behind you at the sound, the knife now closer to your throat than before. That feeling of a savior went as quickly it came. Another called out once more.

"She's ours, by the way. We called dibs a long time ago."

A black smoke cloud with red light streaks appeared out of nowhere and sliced the assailant's arm. The knife falling out of his hand and onto the ground. You followed shortly after as the man tried to get away. The cloud of red and black appeared again, this time revealing a masked individual in its mist. He stood tall, dressed in black with red accents to his outfit and mask. A hood with two red devil horns covered him.

"I'm really curious... She's brave enough to drink from a black glass."

He turned toward you, as he walked over another individual basically identical appeared behind him from the mist. Your kidnapper had failed to escape, dropping to his knees right in front of the second masked man who stepped on his back and pushed him further into the ground. A small cloud came from his hand, before it registered in your mind, it quickly darted across your kidnapper's throat. The sound of the blade could be heard and then you saw a pool of blood on the cobblestone. The man collapsed forward before he dissipated into ash.

"What will she do when backed into a corner..." One of them pondered as he sauntered up to you alongside the other.

Truthfully, it had you feeling something unexplainable.

"You're pretty bold for releasing information about the Aether Core into the Nest like that." The second said.

"Explains why boss is so interested."

"Where is he?"

"He said to wait."

"Well, how long?"

The two bickered between each other. Brothers, no doubt. They turned back to you, the attention making you freeze, not that the restraints gave you much to work with. However, you didn't expect them to pick you up and sit you down a woren down concerte slab. One on each side and for far too long was it quiet with no head of Onychinus showing.

"I'm bored." One sighed. "I am truly getting curious... About that backed into a corner thing."

The masked man was now sitting next to you in closer than ever. It was just a mask looking at you but you felt like he could see the deepest parts of your soul.

"Luke, you know Sylus will be here any moment." The other reminded him. "Not the time. Leave her alone."

"She's so pretty..." Luke said sweetly as his nimble fingers reached up to push a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Don't you think, Kieran?"

He didn't answer. All you could see was his back turned to the both of you with his arms crossed. You looked back at the one named Luke who's thigh still touched your own.

"What's your name, pretty?" He asked. "Boss never told us."

"Y/n..." You spoke up.

"Well, Y/n..." He leaned before he whispered mischievously, "Would you like to play with me?"

You backed away to look at the man in front you, partly surprised at his bluntness as you knew exactly what he meant by 'play' and the other part of you was intrigued by him.

"The boss would be very mad if you were to mess with his new toy." Kieran interrupted.

"Toy?" You scoffed at him. "Yes... I want to play with you. Both of you, actually."

"So ambitious." Luke chuckled. "Did you hear that, Kieran? She wants to take both of us."

"But Sylus-"

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him. We just have to be quick, that's all."

It clicked that they meant right there and then, in the open. It was secluded but the thought of the possibility of being caught was somewhat thrilling. In an attempt to find any sort of relief you clenched around nothing.

"You're okay with that right, Princess?" Luke questioned, his hand smoothing over your jean cladded thigh.

He wanted nothing more than to rip them off of you. The way your cheeks flushed, the way your eyes were hazed over and the sudden instense body heat that radiated off of you already told him the answer. The nodding of your head just confirmed it and within moments you lost your sight as he asked his brother for help. A dark piece of cloth came to blindfold you and all you could rely on was your other senses as you were surrounded by two men you just met. You could hear Kieran behind you take off his mask and put it on the concrete as you felt one of his brother's hand caress down the curve of your waist to rest on the band of your pants. It lingered just above where you needed for far too long to your liking. Your heavy breathing became pants before you bucked your hips.

"Do something, please." You begged.

"Eager now, are we?" Kieran murmured into your ear as he pushed your hair over to your other shoulder.

Suddenly, you felt his lips leave gentle but long kisses on the skin of your exposed neck, he pulled back the fabric of your shirt down to leave a longer trail on your shoulder. The sound of the blade rang in the air and your ankles relax as the rope fell to the ground. You felt Luke move to your side before his hand trailed down your abdomen and into your underwear as you spread your legs. The way his fingertips immediately brushed so softly over your clit has you sigh as you jolt before and relaxing into his brother's chest. You whimpered as he rubbed gently circles into the bud.

"You're so wet and we've barely done anything." You could hear the smile and pride in his voice when he said that. "What got you that way? Tell me."

You didn't respond to him. He rubbed your clit with more pressure which had you gasping and squirming in Kieran's embrace as he left little bites on your tender skin.

"Tell me." Luke repeated.

"Just the way you came in... I don't know, the way you say things, the way you fought the kidnapper and everything... I found it hot. You looked hot, fuck."

You were humiliated, falling apart for these two and for what? They both laughed.

"You don't even know what we look like." Luke taunted. "Is it the masks? Do they turn you on? Is it the mystery?"

"It's cute." Kieran chimed in.

From behind, a hand came up and gripped your jaw to pull you closer before crashing his lips against yours. Your tongues brush against each other. It was so dirty and messy in contrast to how light and sweet his touch remained on your cheek. It was so intoxicating... Suddenly, the rough rope wasn't digging into your wrists anymore and you couldn't help but reach behind and find your hand in Kieran's soft hair in an effort to keep in close as he took your breath away. Luke's slender fingers found their way further down, teasing your entrance with light touches that had you whining against the other's lips as you desperately searched for a way to satisfy the growing heat inbetween your legs.

"She's being so good... Taking us both and not running away." Kieran pulled away from your lips to tell his brother. "We don't have much time, hurry up for her sake at least."

The sensation of two digits plunging into you while his thumb rubbed against your clit had you moaning as you threw your head back against the other's shoulder. You were so pathetically desperate for them. You let out little whimpers and moans which each thrust in and out of her fingers. It started so agonizing slow before speeding up and you couldn't but try to chase the feelings with your hips. You could feel Kieran's hard-on from behind and every move from you was torturous. Despite his discomfort, he continued to nibble and lick on the sweet spots of your neck as he ran his hands up and down your body. All of your pleasure was interrupted by a phone ringing, coming from the boy behind you.

"It's Sylus."

"Shit."

Luke took his hand out of your pants so quickly. You sighed in disappointment, it felt like you had a pool in your underwear. It was so cold the way the fabric sat against you. You found yourself clenching around nothing once more. You felt fingers from Kieran against your lips.

"Suck." He whispered the demand in your ear.

Without a thought, you followed the ordered as he picked up the phone. Not even paying attention to the phone call happening behind you.

"We'll be there as soon as possible, Boss."

The sound of the phone disconnecting was heard. It was brief but the silence in the air was so thick. You released his fingers with a 'pop'

"What did he say?" Luke questioned.

"He's not coming, something came up." The other answered.

"So we have more time with her."

"We can't be suspicious but a little. So, move."

Kieran got up, leaving you dazed as you heard him shuffling around next to you. He ordered his brother to move you over. You felt hands run over your clothed thighs.

"Do you want to cum, princess?” He asked.

”Please…” You cried, begging for a release of any kind.

Still blind, in the matter of seconds you were exposed from the waist down. Cloth could be felt against your skin rather than concrete. Cool air hit your core. Your legs fell apart instantly, pleading for some type of stimuli in between. Hands gripped your thighs as more shuffling could be heard. You fully expected to feel a hand once more but the presence of warm breath hit you. A long, slow strip was licked up your heat that caused you to let an embarrassing high pitched moan. A few kitten licks followed. You felt fingers tease your folds, picking up slick before falling deep into you. A tongue lapped at your bud in such a delicious way as the digits instead you slowly build up pace. You squirmed in other’s lap, mouth agape with small whines and sinister moans escaping every now and again. You grabbed at Luke who was now behind you in an attempt to ground yourself as you humped his brother’s tongue in desperation.

“With the way you act at just at some fingers and tongue…” He started as he held your hands tighter. “I can’t wait to see how wild you’ll go on my cock… You’d look so pretty taking all of me.”

You whimper in response. The lust was insatiable at this point and like a possession.

“Wanna cum—So bad—I want more.” You whined out. “I want both of you inside of me… Please.”

Kieran came to a halt which cause you to collapse weakly as you breathed heavy.

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you?” Kieran asked, the sound of a belt buckle becoming undone and dropping to the ground. “Can you really take both of us, let alone me?”

”Fuck me, please!” You cried out. “I wanna be filled up so bad.”

It felt painful, them constantly building you up with no release. You were ready to lose it if you hadn’t already. You laid there, helplessly in silence waiting for something to happen. The lack of touch was unbearable but you still feel them around you. A hand came to touch your thigh and move it upward, exposing you to the hair once more.

Something hard and warm rubbed against your folds finally. You let out a sigh of relief, knowing soon enough you’ll have what you’ve been craving.

”It’s not fair that you get her first.” One whined, obviously Luke.

”Maybe you shouldn’t have been such a tease then.” Kieran retorted. “I’m just giving her what she asked for.”

The head of his cock throbbed against your clit. The feeling disappeared within moments, a thumb came to make gentle motions on your bud as you finally felt the tip enter you. He tenses until he reaches the hilt and feel him relax against you as he falls forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder just for a moment. He lets out a breathy grunt in your ear.

”So fucking tight.” He whispered.

Heat radiated off of him. His words unintentionally make you clench around his member causing him to let out a high pitch moan in your ear. He ruts into you so deeply, your head rolls back into his brother’s lap. The steady pace of him hitting all the right areas within your walls had you screaming and shaking with pleasure as you encourage him to keep going in between out of breath moans.

”More—Harder—Faster…” You begged, you hand resting against his abdomen, the touch sending shocks of pleasure straight down into his cock.

”Whatever you want, princess.”

Kieran’s hands come up to grab your waist to lift you up against him, snapping his hips against yours as the sounds of skins slapping against each other echoed around you. Your mouth fell agape once more as you whined out almost pornographically. Your eyes rolled back behind the blindfold as he reached deep within you, hitting everything so perfectly.

So lost in your own world with Kieran, you had forgotten about the other masked man before you felt his lips against your ear.

”Will you help me out, sweetheart?” He asks, softly. “You‘re doing so well…”

You could only imagine how painful it must’ve felt as you reach out toward him. Your hand traveling over his body until it rested on the restricted bulge that you rubbed over causing him to hiss. The familiar sound of a belt becoming unbuckled could be such. You were shocked to feel something soft touch your lips.

”Suck me off, please.” He pleaded with a moan.

He’d be lying if he said seeing you suck his brother’s fingers off while he was on the phone didn’t do something to him. The way your tongue swirled around his fingers and the drool around your lips made him feel so primal almost.

His voice… The way he begged and asked so politely, it went straight to your core and instinctively your tongue came out to lick over the slit before your lips wrapped around his tip, giving him a light suck as little sighs of relief spilled from him. You release it, a string of salvia still connecting between the two of you. You lick the underside of his shaft from the base up that caused a jolt in him before you eagerly take all of him in your mouth.

Taken back, he lets out a long moan and pulls your hair back as he watches the way you bob your head up and down on him. He throws his head as he can’t help but buck his hips into your mouth at the sight of you getting fucked out.

His pace quickened. You choked a bit as his cock hit the back of your throat. Jaw aching, tears pricked your eyes. You moaned against him as Kieran is ramming into relentlessly, one hand rubbing circles into your clit that slowly accelerated while the other found its way under your shirt and bra to squeeze your nipple.

“Oh fuck, Y/n.” You heard Luke curse, his hips began to falter against your nose.

He speeds up for a few seconds, hitting the back of your throat without a care beside his own pleasure before he slows down. A warm, thick liquid hits your tongue. As hot cum fills your mouth as a reflex you swallow it all. The only evidence left being the little bits of cum that spilled over lips.

“Such a good girl…” Luke moaned before he wiped the cum away from your mouth.

He grabbed your face to leave a kiss on your lips, tasting the saltiness left over from him. It was oddly sweet considering what just happened prior. You sighed against his lips, swiping your tongue along his bottom lip before his lips parted to let your tongues meet one another.

Pants and heavy breathing filled the air as Kieran still fucked into you. You moaned into the other’s mouth as he got dangerously close to your sweet spot, the stimulation on your clit intensifying it all. His thrusts began to become more erratic, the friction on your bud increasing. You cried out as he abused that spot inside you.

”Fuck yes, yes, yes!” You screamed, going crazy as Luke held you.

You felt yourself getting closer and closer, reaching out for Kieran in front of you holding onto his waist as plowed into you. You felt a wave of pleasure wash over you, letting out a pathetically long, high-pitch moan. You withered in Luke’s arms as he kissed up and down your neck as you made an attempt to drag out your orgasm as long as possible on the other’s length.

The way you grind yourself and squeeze against him sent him over the edge. His hips slowed as you felt the sensation of warm cum coat your walls that had you letting out gasp. Kieran leaned down, leaving a long bit deep kiss on your lips as he finished his final thrusts before he pulled out. You winced at the sudden feeling of emptiness within you and the lose of the other behind you. Cum started to leak out of you and drip down your thighs and onto the cloth beneath. You lay there against hard surface, catching your breath.

“So pretty.” You heard one of them mumble.

You didn’t expect your vision to come back so quickly. Looking around, you found them both dressed with their masks back on. You felt something swipe over your thigh, realizing it was the thing just around your eyes now wiping up the mess made. You reached out to grab the man’s wrist in an effort to stop him.

”You didn’t get a turn.” You said, weakly.

”Another time, princess.” He laughed. “You’re too considerate.”

He got done cleaning you up as best as possible, discarding the soiled items while the other help you stand up and get dressed.

“How can you tell us apart?” Kieran asked as you stepped back into your shoes.

”Your voices are different…” You told.

”Whose do you like better?”

It’d had been difficult some time since you entered the N109 Zone. You met Sylus, leader of Onychinus. The man was intimidating and looking into his eyes had you feeling like he knew everything about you. A voice would appear in your head whenever you met his gaze. It was quite odd and against your own wishes, you ended up shooting the guy and being knocked out for a day.

You wondered, could he tell what his servants just did to you? Could he tell how much you enjoyed it and wanted something to happen again? No way… If it was that much an issue like the twins made it seem to be messing around with you. You wouldn’t have woken up with both of them looking at you.

You found yourself spending most of your time with Sylus when he was awake. However, when he was asleep you always found yourself with Luke and Kieran for hours on end… Their boss would be sleeping in the room next to theirs while they had you taking one of them from behind as the other sat in front of you, holding your face and telling you how good you were being before they switched.

You began to realize they were very different in the realm of sex. Luke would always praise you but Kieran, he liked to degrade you. Luke liked to edge you, the way you fell apart on him after all the built up gave him a sense of pride. He was usually more gentle with you and his pacing to get to your orgasms while his brother would rail you and overstimulate you, loving the way you’d become a drooling mess. Their stamina was insane

You found yourself under Kieran who held your wrists as he fucked up into you one night. Luke massaged your clit with one hand as he stroked his own length with the other from the side. You were litter with little love bites from the both of them. The bed frame creaked against the wall adding to the excitement of Sylus finding out and walking in the scene.

Your eyes rolled back at the idea as you bit your lip to suppress a moan from slipping pass. The brutal, quick thrusts stopped and turned into long, drawn out ones that hit you hard once Kieran did snap his hips into you. You let out a small moan at the uncharacteristic thing of him.

”We want to hear you.” He said.

”But Sylus…” You sighed out at the feeling of his hips meeting yours before slowly being dragged out.

He chuckles, “I’m inside of you right now. I can feel you clench around me every time the bed frame creaks. I feel you every time you can hear him stir in his sleep and how you relax when he goes back to snoring. You like the idea of him knowing and seeing you like this, don’t you?”

You shook your head against the pillow. A sharp motion of his hips had his tip reach that spot inside you that had you yelp with no way to cover your mouth.

”You’re lying.” He said. “You want him to see you all filled up with our cum, all fucked out and dumb from us. You want him to see what a slut you are and you want him to treat you the same way.”

A clench around his shaft at the words was just a confirmation before he started back up with his relentless pounding into you that had you whining as you approached your orgasmed and found yourself under the other for the nth time that day.

They seemed to pick up on much more than their boss. Whenever the two of you got home from somewhere, they could tell when Sylus did something that unintentionally got you hot and bothered. He wasn’t going to take care of it so they were always so kind to do so. Sometimes so kind to try and recreate what happened with a twist.

“Relax. You can handle it.” Luke whispered into your ear as he aligned himself with your entrance.

He opened your palm with his hand before intertwining your fingers with his. It was much more gentle than the encounter with Sylus and also Kieran’s recreation but maybe gentle was the you need to end this session with them as soon this time would need to come to an end for the sake of normality.

A few hours of sleep was never enough time for recovery from the twins. You were barely able to walk normal out into the dining room were Sylus and them all sat eating a meal. The boys snickered to one another and even teased you about it in front him which was odd considering they were the ones wanting to hide it. The man with white hair and piercing eyes never said anything or even batted an eye at their teasing. You’d blush about it still and further in the day you’d be annoyed with the little pranks they’d pull on you whenever their boss was around.

You always got distance during the day but at night they’d always start luring you back with kisses and promises of pleasure. However the next time, in their room, they told you they only reason they did it was so nothing seemed suspicious. Whenever they had guest they’d tease and mess with them in the way they did in front of Sylus. You were the only guest they teased and messed with in other ways. They didn’t want to bite the hand that feeds them.

Once you were aware of this, you started to give as good as you get. You'd pull Kieran around the corner asking to show him something and once hidden behind a wall you'd grab his hand just to wrap your lips around his fingers and such while looking up at him with doe eyes. Sylus quite literally always in the next room eating or doing something else at a leisurely pace. with the potential of him catching you both. The first time stunned him but it almost became a game of how many times you could do it. It didn't stop there, sometimes you'd pull Luke away to make out with him. The other started to get jealous that you weren't taking him behind a wall to kiss and they'd start to fight over who got to sneak away with you which you'd smile at.

Other times it was one of them sneaking their hands down your panties as you tried to stay as quiet as possible while bucking in their hand or them getting on their knees and pull your shorts and underwear aside to get a taste and lick you up and down as you covered your mouth with your head thrown back. The rest of the time, it was their turn where you'd take one of them away and end up on your knees for them, a hand in your hair always guiding you at a pace they selected as they bucked their own hips accordingly or your hand would be wrapped around their length as their masks came to rest just above your lips allowing you hid their moans from the mere feets away.

It wasn’t always sex, they knew you needed a break with the way they pushed you. Sometimes, it was just talking on their bed or playing a game. They refused to take off their masks no matter what you did or said. You became familiar with only the sight of their pink lips as they would only lift their masks so far off. It was the one thing you hated while also loving it. Seeing them in their masks as they were deep into you, their own grunts and moans leaking out did something to you and you had no idea why. But if you wanted to be kissed anywhere by either of them at all while they gave countless orgasms, you’d have to be blindfolded or one would have to cover your eyes. They always refused and they never told you the reason.

”Why do I never get to see your faces?” You whined as Luke’s fingers traced shapes up and down your arms as you laid between him in Kieran.

”You like the masks.” He said, softly. “We don’t want to ruin what you like.”

“I would like you both either way.” You admitted.

With the amount of times the both of them had flipped you into different positions, fucked you in multiple parts of the estate and had finished in you, you think the would’ve realized that by now.

“Who would you like more?”

Maybe it was the mystery of it. It killed you because it felt like the final barrier between you all. You wanted to see their faces contort in pleasure as you sink down on them. You wanted to see them try to hold back their own noises of bliss. You wanted to see them desperate for you in their entirety.

The best you get to that was pinning Luke to the bed one night. While riding him, your hand snaked up to his throat to squeeze lightly. A choked moaned came threw which had you smirking. Your other hand rested on his shoulder as you bounced yourself up and down on his shaft, giving him a show as you let out whines and little phrases of encouragement to him while out of breath that him twitching inside of you as you tried to speed up.

You weren’t on your high horse for long before Kieran came and lifted you off only to have you sink down on him. You’re back to his rest while on his lap, he held your legs wide open. Planting his feet into the mattress, he used his momentum to fuck into you as your mouth hung open, letting out pitiful gasps. The other now in front of you, knowing exactly what you want in that moment as one of his hand reached to rub your bud while the other situated his mask just above his lips so he could comfortably kiss you and swallow your noises.

”Such a good cum slut.” He snickered as he filled you up to brim.

You hated how much you loved it. The feeling of being so full but also empty. You hated how much you loved them being the reasons behind all your orgasm.

He knew what you liked. They both did by the way your walls would wrap even tighter around them whenever they did something or said something new.

As much as they liked those incredibly intimate moments with you, they liked just being with you, knowing more about you as a person. They were attached you and began to wonder what they’d do when you had to leave because that time was coming sooner or later with that auction approaching. They didn’t let you know but they were already planning rendezvouses to Linkon for you.

Sylus set you up on a little mission to find a broach he hid somewhere. However, they saw you be thrown out of his room multiple times within the last few hours and saw you disappear behind the doors again recently. You hadn’t been seen again so maybe it was a good thing for you but when you opened the door they could hear the shower running.

They looked at each other as the door clicked closed, silently hoping to one another that it wasn’t time to cross that road just yet… However, it wasn’t longer after that they heard the door swing open.

”Leave. I’m going to bed.” A deep voice sighed as a thud could be heard before the door slammed shut.

You were cursing under your breath as you entered the study. You threw yourself on the couch. A notepad rest in your lap, scribbling a way in it angrily as your grumbled to yourself, unaware of the twins’ presence in the room with you.

“You're pulling your hair out over this, huh?” Kieran asked, gently, catching your attention. “If you want to do something, maybe we can help you.”

You looked up to see him sitting on the desk, looking at you over his shoulder while his brother sat in a chair next to him, his chin resting in his hand.

“What do you mean?” You poured.

”If you want to conquer our boss's heart, you'll have to use a different approach.” Luke informed you while leaning back in his chair before pulling out a book and opening it to cite something."For some people, they get bored once they have everything. So only those who dare to challenge their authority can catch their interest."

He closed the book, resting it on the table as you walked up to take it in your hands.

"When you're dealing with such a person, you bow down and submit or take them out in one go.” Kieran picked up where his brother left off. “In other words—“

A pair of handcuffs and gun where thrown on the surface before you, leaving you puzzled.

“Strike when they’re off guard.” They said in unison.

”Boss is the least guarded when he's sleeping.” Kieran told you.

”You only have one shot. Don't waste this chance. Just do it!” Luke encouraged you. “You’re blushing… What happened in there?”

Part of you hoped, he wouldn’t noticed. It didn’t help when the other reached out to you.

”You’re so warm too…” Kieran pointed out. “You’re in the mood, aren’t you?”

“Yes…” You felt guilty at the confession. “I went in when he was taking a shower and then he walked out in just a short towel. He just had to catch me eavesdropping too and then he basically tied me up with his evol and I’m tired of it.”

They chuckled at you as your cheeks appeared brighter. Usually now, you’d be taken care of for hours but as they walked up to you all they did was pull up their masks a bit to leave kisses on both your cheeks.

”You don’t have much time.” Luke reminded you. “As I said, you have to take your chance now. I promise to take care of you later once you get what you need.”

He left a gentle kiss on your forehead.

”One more for good luck.” Kieran said before leaving a kiss on your lips.

They put their masks back down as they saw you walk away. The door closed behind you and energy in the air shifted immediately once you no longer stood there with them.

“You know what we just did, right?” Kieran asked his brother.

”I know, unfortunately.” Luke sighed.

Sylus did not like being handcuff to his bed by you in attempt to get the broach. The gun was only full of confetti, a mortifying betrayal.

”You’re so gullible, kitten.” The man snickered.

At least you got the broach though.

Your clothes laid discarded on the floor. The bed creaked, the sounds of screams and pants filled the air alongside skin slapping. Sweat covered your body and cum started to cake your thighs. You don’t know how long you had been there or how many times Sylus made you cum around his fingers, tongue and cock.

Overstimulated, the brushing of his robe tickles you with every thrust that had you letting out quiet whines. You laid there with your face against the mattress and ass up in the air. Sylus’ hands gripped your hips so hard to bring you back on him, hard. Your walls snug around him as you cried out for more. His hand grabbed your jaw to lift your head up as his thrust got harder against you.

“So eager, sweetie.” He teased you. “You were never disgusted by me, were you? You were just mad I didn’t fuck you. You could’ve just said something. I would’ve gladly taken care of you sooner. How many rounds have we’ve gone and you’re still not tired? So pathetic and desperate.”

You let out a helpless moan in response, finally opening your eyes long enough to look back at the white haired man. However, something out of the corner of your eyes caught your attention. You’d know those masks anywhere and they were peaking out from the doorway, watching you. You froze up a little bit as you noticed them but you knew deep down you liked the fact that they were there watching, with no way to do anything. You liked it even more when you could see the both of them with bulges in their pants.

Nothing would ever be true payback but you had to try at least…

You got up weakly, the arms shaking underneath you as Sylus continued.

“Wait.” You panted. “I want to try something.”

His thrusts slowed only for him to be able to put more force in them. You cried as you collapsed forward the mattress.

”Don’t tell me what to do, sweetie.” He grunted, bitterly.

His pace picked up again. Sore and weak, you mustered up all your strength to pull yourself flush against him. You’re back now against his bare, muscular torso. You threw your head back on his chest as you used his sides as a way to pick up momentum to match his thrusts whatsoever.

You looked at him with doe eyes as you gasped for air, absolutely letting yourself get lost in the pleasure while repeatedly sinking on him. Your eyes rolled back as he used the opportunity to leave bites on your exposed neck already sprouting red marks. You looked back at the door way, the twins still there and looking in as they watch you act like you’re getting the best sex of your life.

You let them see the way you throw yourself back on him as you call out of his name breathlessly and begged to cum. Something about knowing they were watching as you stretched around the man that held power over them did something unexplainable to you. He grabbed onto your hips tightly, his tongue now brushing against yours as you whined into his mouth at his thrusts becoming more erratic and rough.

You forgot they were there… Your eyes not so much as glancing at them enraged them as well as the uncomfortable feeling in between their thighs that would have no resolve. They both stormed down the hall, away from Sylus’ room but it didn’t matter. They could still hear you scream his name and moans which made their blood boil in a way it shouldn’t of.

You don’t remember falling asleep under the black silk sheets that belonged to Sylus. The white haired man was fast asleep next to you. Everything felt oddly clean… You do vaguely remember cleaning you up afterward, letting you shower and borrow a sweater off his. He brought you to bed after, the sheets fresh. It was unexpected of him, uncharacteristically sweet of him. You fully anticipated him telling you to get out as soon as he used you but he didn’t.

Maybe you were wrong about him.

You slipped out of his bed. The lost of warmth next to him made him stir a bit in his sleep. You look at him to make sure he doesn’t wake up as you quietly start on a mission to sneak out of his room. When you go to turn your attention to the door, Luke and Kieran stand in front of you all of a sudden. It takes you aback for a moment and then you remember how pissed off you are at them. You immediately push pass them and they follow shortly behind you into the hallway.

”Hey, where are you going?” Luke asked.

”To my room.” You respond, rather bitterly. “Leave me alone.”

”We’re sorry.” Kieran sighed.

His words stopped you as you slowly turned around to glare at the twins who looked rather guilty.

”So you did know?” You scoffed. “God, I was really hoping you didn’t because then it’d be so much easier. I’m so fucking mad at you both!”

”He only told us so much so not really…”

“We didn’t know it was going to happen.”

”Only a feeling, huh? And you didn’t even care to share that me? You’re both suppose to be the ones I’m closest to. How am I suppose to trust you two if you don’t tell me things?”

“We want to! But he could tell we want to say something to you and we just couldn’t… You know how he is. We’re sorry again, Y/n. We can’t say that enough...”

The way they stood there with their heads down. Truthfully, you couldn’t be mad at them. You loved them too much. They knew you want Sylus at some point anyway.

“Make it up to me.” You demanded.

”Huh?” They asked in unison.

”You heard me.” You said.

”How?”

“Like you haven’t done it before. I know seeing another man in me ticked you both off. At least, I hope it did so you both learn your lesson.”

They nodded which had you smiling before they ran over to you to lift up their masks and exchange kisses before take you to their room. You were thrown on their mattress in the matter of seconds after the door opened. A familiar blindfold came to cover your eyes as you heard both their masks come to rest on their nightstand. Your body became hot with kisses sernaded by the both them, long licks over the right spots. Their hands roamed over your body, carress certain parts, gripping and massaging the others which had you gasping between long kisses you shared with the both of them.

You felt one’s hand come to rest against your heat over your panties that whined at at as the other’s hand lifted up the knitted sweater over your chest. You felt a pair of lips wrap itself around your nipple, teeth lightly brushing against it that you had you arching up. A brief slurping sound of the bud being sucked could be heard before you felt the unknown twin start to lap at it with his tongue. The hand continued to rub against you at such an agonizing slow pace. Your essence starting to leave a dark spot on the cloth and coat his fingers slighly. You whined at the sudden lost of friction but was presently surpised to feel a kiss on top of your underwear causing you to jolt and buck your hips at the stimulation.

Most definitely Luke...

Right as you felt a finger hook around the soaked cloth of your panties, it stopped.

"Stop, I have an idea." He told his brother before you heard shared, indistinct whispers exchanged between the both of them.

High of lust, you didn't fully process them lifting you up and moving elsewhere. That was until you found yourself on a much harder surface. Your underwear came off in a swift motion. Your thighs found a familiar place on what was presumably Luke's shoulder as he dragged you closer to him. The blindfold came off, your eyes squinting as they adjusted to the increase in light around, Looking around, you saw the sheets on the bed in front of you bunched up. Your eyes widened as you saw the tuffs of white hair peak out from the sheets. You were in Sylus' room, on his couch. The tongue leaving a sudden stripe over you had all the worry disspate for a moment as you clenched around nothing, biting your lip yearning for more. Luke teases you on his tongue, never quite hitting the spot you need but getting so close which has you throwing your head back on the couch. You find Kieran behind the couch, his hands running over you shoulders passed the bunched up sweater to gently pinch your nipples between his fingers. You thrashed against the couch, grinding against the other's tongue, the beak of his mask that concede his identity, digging into you as you watched the bed occupied by a sleeping Sylus in front of you with hooded eyes.

"What a slut." Kieran degraded you, the beak of his mask running up the side of your neck as he whispered in your ear. "Your still wearing his sweater while two different people pleasure you... In his room where he could wake up any moment and see how desprate you are to let annyone ruin you."

You felt the flutter in your core at his words, Luke focuing more at the way his long flicks your bud in-between your legs. You grab the top of his head, tongue now flat against you to let you grind on his tongue until he can taste your sweet release on him as you shake, mouth agape as you let out heavy breaths. He comes up from between your thighs, his chin covered in liquid as he leans in allowing you to taste yourself on him.

"What's next, princess?" He asked, smile on his lips that peeked out from under the mask, chin still covered in your essence.

"I need you inside of me..." You shamelessly confessed.

They were trying to make it up to you so you knew they’d just give in today to make you happy.

”Which one?”

You saw an opportunity to mess when with them.

”I want Luke.” You said as you grabbed onto Kieran behind you.

They looked at each other, probably puzzled because it never mattered how dumb they fucked you, you’d always know the difference between them. However, they didn’t say anything as the other came to sit down on the couch.

You wasted no time in straddling his lap once he took a seat. You took his hard cock into your hand and lined up with your entrance before sinking down abruptly causing him to let out a small grunt as you did, a hand coming to rest on your waist. Unexpectedly for him, your hand wrapped around his throat. You bit your lip as you tightly squeeze it. You didn’t anticipate a loud moan to leave him as you looked back to make sure Sylus was still asleep. You didn’t expect to feel him twitch inside of you and grab at your waist as an attempt to bring you closer.

Kieran never let you take control. You didn’t expect him to like it, you didn’t think you’d get away with it either. You thought he was going to flip you over onto the couch and without regard to the others in the room, just fuck you into the sofa. Yet, he was still under you, letting you rock back and forth for your own pleasure.

The lack of powerfulness with Kieran turned you on even more. Your other hand came to rest on his shoulder to aid you and bouncing up and down on his shaft that his head lolled back on the back of the couch. His fingers digged into your skin as you could hear him try to control his volume. His thighs tensed under you ever so often, his tip twitching inside of you every time your walls hugged him tighter.

”And you call me a slut.” You chuckled bitterly into his ear, his hands freezing. “Yet, you’re loving the fact that I’m in control, fucking you in front of your sleeping boss and we could be caught at anymore. You’re the whore.”

”You knew it was me?” Kieran choked at as your grip on his throat became tighter causing him to moan helplessly.

He always called you a slut while Luke always told you were a good girl.

”Payback.” You smirked. “Now, be a good boy and cum for me, hmm?”

He took this as a sign to grip onto your waist, thrusts into you by his own accord. Moans and grunts escaped his lips as you occasionally squeezed the sides of his throat even tighter, ones that went straight to your core that caused your walls to hug him even tighter. You could feel his pace shorten and become inconsistent, knowing he was close.

”I’m going to cum…” He whimpered out, stroking your ego to see him like this.

”Hmm,” You hummed, your other hand sneaking behind the mask to grip at his hair as you felt him approach the edge. “Not in me you’re not.”

You got up too quickly for him to process. He whined as thick, white ribbons spurted out and dripped down his shaft and onto his thighs. He desperately bucked up into nothing. He heaved out as his cock twitched, releasing the last of his seed.

You crawled over to Luke who sat on the other side of the sofa. He was so lost in the pleasure he was given himself as he thrusted upward into his fist as he moaned quietly. The way he squeezed himself ever so often with his hand cover in precum was reminiscent of teasing, like he was trying to the milk the longevity of it. He didn’t realize you were there until he felt you between his legs. The way you looked up at him so sweetly but also so lustful, he swore he could’ve bust right then and there.

”I want you to cum in me.” You whispered to him, in a low sensual tone.

”You don’t have to tell me twice.” He sighed, blissfully.

You two swapped places. Your head now laid against the armrest of the sofa as he situated himself between your thighs. He separated your folds before positioning himself at your entrance. He slowly bottom out in you causing you both let out sighs of relief. Your eyes rolled back at the feeling of being full. You grabbed at the armrest behind you as Luke started with a firm thrust into you. He pulled up the knitted sweater that still adorned your body, just over your chest to see the way your breasts bounced up at every meeting of his hips against yours. You could feel the way he somehow got harder at the sight of it like you hadn’t been in this position countless times. The scene of you taking him so well as your mouth hung agape, your eyes looking at him so desperate for more motivated him to keep up with sharp and hard thrusts into you.

You looked over at Sylus’ bed where he somehow remained asleep despite the wet sounds mixed with skin against skin right across from him. The only difference being you could now see his sleeping face as he flipped over. The idea of him seeing you like this… You just couldn’t get over it for some reason. Luke felt you squeeze around him and saw you looking at Sylus. His hand came to your chin to turn your attention to him.

”Hey, look at me, princess.” He breathed, the masking moving to the side to leave a sweet kiss on your lips. “So dirty… Loving the idea of him waking up to you getting fucked out by his henchmen in his room. Such a good slut, taking me while he’s just a few feet away.”

You let out a whiny moan as melted underneath his touch at his words. He never called you that before but the small praise mixed in made you go crazy. You clench around him as he picked up the pace in you. Your hands flew to his waist to bring him closer to you with your head thrown back on the arm rest. Moans of ours filled the empty space along with the noises of your bodies syncing with each other.

He collapsed forward, caging you in his arms as he ruts into you. Kisses littering your neck along with his familiar praises in your ear and his grunts that fueled you. You look over his shoulder at the other across the couch.

His cock in his palm. Pathetic strokes from the base up. The white liquid acting a lubricant as he tries to speed up but whines out at the sensitivity of it all. You enjoyed the idea of him touching himself at the thought of you so desperately a little too much. You always liked to see each one alone, lost in their own world as they moaned out your name when they thought you weren’t there. They never got mad when you walked in on them or happened to see. Truth to be told, they loved letting you see how much they needed you. It often turned into times alone with each respective twin that were never uttered to the other because jealousy ran deep when it came to you.

Luke could tell you weren’t paying attention to him like he asked. He felt hurt as you clenched around him knowing fell well you were looking at Kieran. The kisses ceased immediately and you lost the feeling of him inside of you that made you cry. He sat up on the couch, pulling you into his lap and had you sink down on him. With no time to really process, you felt a harsh thrust meet your hips sending you toward. Your hands gripped the coffee table in front of you. You looked up to see you now had the view of Sylus in bed once more. Your walls hugged Luke’s length as the sight hit you.

His hands grabbed your hips to allow himself to pound into you as your heart raced in your chest. You wanted to scream out so badly at him hitting the right spot inside of you over and over again. It felt too good, you were going crazy as you trembled and clawed at the coffee table for any way to ground yourself. His arms wrapped around your waist from behind. He hugged you into his chest and felt familiar lips along your neck. You could feel his cheek nuzzle against your hair and don’t quite remember a point in which he could’ve removed his mask.

”If only he could see how good you’re being for me.” Luke groaned softly into your ear. “You’d love that though. You’d put on a little show for him just like you did for us earlier. You’re so filthy… You’re our litle slut, aren’t you, hmm?”

All you do was moan quietly at his words and nod as the way he pulled you back on him made you lose control. It’s like they switched today but something about it was so attractive to you.

“What was that, sweetheart? I couldn’t quite hear you.” He taunted as he slowed which made you whine.

”Yes, Luke!” You breath. “M’need to cum—need you to cum inside of me. Fuck me…”

”You said it, not me.” He chuckled.

He left a light kiss on your cheek before he picked up his pace again. You gasped as one of his arms stayed wrapped around you waist, tightly and his other arm traveled down your body. His fingers found their way to a familiar bud between your legs. As soon as his fingertips started to make circular motions against it, you were seeing stars as he fucked up into you. You panted and whined, your eyes fixed on Sylus sleeping as you tried to keep your noises to a minimum.

Every time you squeezed around him, he’d let out a satisfied sigh. He whispered praises in your ear, nibbling on your neck and you could feel that familiar knot building up in you. You felt electricity in your body.

”Gonna cum—Gonna cum!” You whined out to which Luke speed up the stroke against your bed and the pace.

You shook as a wave of pleasure washed over you. Instinctively, rocking your hips against him as you whined and your rolled back. Shortly after, you heard him groan and felt hot, thick liquid paint your insides. The feeling had you biting your lip as you rested yourself against his chest. He used your hips to push every taste drop into you. His cum started to drip out of you and onto the couch. His cock slipping out of you do to the loss of friction.

Heavy breathing filled the room and you looked over at Kieran who was even messier than before which had you smiling. Your eyes were covered up unexpectedly as you felt Luke leave a longing kiss on your lips.

“Such a good girl…” He sighed.

“Don’t say things like that unless you want to go another round.” You huffed.

“You’d like it as much as we do.” You could hear the smile in Kieran’s voice. “We should clean and go before the boss wakes up…”

With their masks back on, Luke carried you out of the room while his brother stayed behind. Showered and cleaned up, he let you wear one of his shirts to bed and you slept soundly under the sheets. He watched you from the doorway of the bathroom after his shower, arms crossed as he sighed. He was already missing you.

His brother quietly entered their room.

”He did wake up?” Luke questioned.

”Dead to the world like usual.” Kieran answered. “Kind of impressive all that didn’t wake him up…”

His twin pushed pass him to get to the bathroom, ready to climb into the shower. He stood there looking at you, plagued by the thought that sooner or later you’d have to choose one or none. That idea killed him because no one really won in that situation.

“Hey, Mephisto wasn’t in the room, right?”

Oh shit…

#love and deepspace smut #sylus smut #love & deepspace smut #luke love and deepspace #kieran love and deepspace #luke and kieran #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #love & deepsace x reader #lnds smut #lds smut

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violetwolfraven · 28 days ago

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Wait wait wait remember that post about how Team Starkid/the Lang brothers are going to be comparable to Shakespeare 500 years from now and it was mostly played for laughs like yeah lol you’ll need a paragraph of footnotes to explain the zefron poster but like

I don’t think that’s actually far off from how Starkid’s place in theatre history might play out and here’s why. Just hear me out

Why is Shakespeare so popular today when he definitely wasn’t the only playwright from that era? When he’s not even the only playwright from that era from England that we have surviving works from?

Two main reasons:

1) Shakespeare’s work is (relatively) universally relatable. The characters do things that are so fundamentally human. They make jokes at their friends’ expense. They complain about being awkward in front of their crush. They have daddy issues. The plot lines of the plays aren’t too complicated. The dick jokes land whether you’re watching in 1611 or 2024, and they probably still will in 2637. Shakespeare’s works are timeless because he didn’t try to outsmart his audience. He wrote about things everyone could relate to rather than trying too hard to peacock his intellect in front of the nobility. This is not true of every playwright.

2) Shakespeare was really popular right around the time England started colonizing everything in sight. Copies of his work got shipped all around the world, translated into dozens of languages, performed probably thousands of times. Setting aside the moral implications of this, the important thing to note is that Shakespeare was about the most easily accessible English playwright during a time of rapid, intense globalization.

Meanwhile, Starkid:

1) Invests hard in meaningful, relatable character arcs instead of spectacle and expensive sets or costumes. Also, lowbrow, immature humor and dick jokes that make A Very Potter Sequel funny and enjoyable regardless of if you’ve ever seen any other Harry Potter media in your life.

2) Posts professional recordings of their musicals to YouTube FOR FREE, making their shows about the easiest, best quality musical theatre you can get pretty much anywhere in the world, regardless of if your area has an active theatre scene. Proshots from other companies are rare and usually not free. Bootlegs are all well and good, but even if the video quality is alright (and that’s a big if) the audio is usually garbage. Starkid has been posting the best quality free recordings they can afford since 2009, shortly after the birth of social media, another time of rapid, intense globalization.

In short, I’m not saying that theatre historians in 500 years won’t remember any our current Broadway faves, but I am saying that in my opinion, Team Starkid is probably going to be more accessible for the general public. If you’re a 26th century English teacher trying to teach your class about narrative structure in 21st century theatre, what are you going to show your students? A bootleg of Hadestown with blurry video and garbage audio? Or the professional recording of Twisted, parts of which they will probably even enjoy, because even long after no one remembers Disney’s Aladdin anymore, your class of 26th century 16-year-olds are still going to laugh at “No One Remembers Achmed.”

#oof i really wrote an essay about this #like feel free to disagree this is just my opinion #team starkid #starkid #musical theatre #theatre #twisted #a very potter musical #a very potter sequel #a very potter senior year #holy musical b@man #trail to oregon #the guy who didn't like musicals #black friday #nerdy prudes must die

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cuntdevil · 1 month ago

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★ VISCERAL CHOKEHOLD.

no one ever thought you would make it this far, and maybe you wouldn't have without higuruma's help.

( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, higuruma hiromi, dark content & sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 16,232 words !

╰┈➤ law professor!higuruma hiromi & law student!reader (she/her), professor x student relationship, insecure!reader, power imbalance, large age gap, toxic & verbally abusive relationship, smut: dubcon (manipulation), dacryphilia, blowjob, minor finger sucking, hardcore degredation, face slapping, rough sex, choking, unprotected sex, featuring hitmam!fushiguro toji, private investigator!nanami, and lawyer!shiu kong as your father, alluded character death, etc.

( @murderofravens said . . . ) hello lovely!! . . . since you're taking requests i was wondering if i could please have a hiromi higuruma piece? perhaps something along the lines of him being reader's law professor? with power dynamics, lots of tension and maybe some angst, and smut if you don't mind? you could make it toxic as well . . . no pressure, of course, thank you so much and hope ur doing okay! <3

╰┈➤ author's response: this is the shit im talking about !! babes, you got my mind enlargening because this was such a good request that the plot jumped right onto the screen for me. mwah !! i hope this satisfies you !!

When people talk about your father, they speak nothing but praises, saying how he’s such a beast in court. They glorify his name and how he's gotten the innocent to roam freely on the streets again. They praise him on his judgment, bringing justice to the right people and condemning the guilty in the process. His voice would boom in court as he swayed the jury’s mind, his deep and commanding tone something that had people right under his thumb. He had great relationships with the judges and made plenty of enemies with lawyers who secretly sought to be like him. When women heard his name, they were scampering in hopes to get a moment alone with him.

He often found himself perched at the bar, sitting on a stool as he leaned against the counter where the bartender would pass him a glass of sake. It was a little celebration ritual that he had whenever he won a case, which was quite often. He grabs his pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his brown suit jacket, lighting one up as the butt of it would sizzle and red sparks would light up ablaze. He’d buy a drink for himself and the man he just set free, this one being Toji Fushiguro.

“I don’t think I could thank you enough,” the man with a scarred lip smiles, taking the glass of bourbon and barely putting it to his lips. He appreciated the courtesy, but he didn’t really enjoy drinking. Didn’t find pleasure in it. Shiu could see that, noticing how the glass always rested in his hands and when he did bring it to his lips, it stayed at the same level.

“Then don’t,” he chuckled, downing his glass in one go. “Bourbon not your cup of tea? You ordered it.”

“Yeah, I did,” Toji shrugged. “Didn’t want to make you feel bad to be the only one drinking.”

“Well, I still am,” Shiu chuckles. The rest of the night goes without much conversation. Shiu drowns out the stress of today’s case, letting it dissipate with shots of whatever liqueur he was craving next and the buzz of nicotine blackening his lungs. He loved the scene a bar could give him, a chance to people-watch strangers and get their life story just from how they spend their time. His favorite person to watch was a woman around his age, always here around the same time he was, just like clockwork.

At first, he thought she was one of those women that liked to flock around him after learning that he was a well-established lawyer. However, he doesn’t quite think so. Her eyes would flicker to him every so often and they always seemed shy— not the one anyone would try to feign. She’d grow easily flustered, but never unmoving. Neither of them had taken the first step at approaching each other, only enjoying the lingering gaze when the other thought they weren’t looking.

“For some hot shot in the courtroom, you seem pretty pathetic right now,” Toji chuckles, finally taking a swig of the bourbon in his hand. He found the scene grotesque, watching his lawyer that was so domineering in the courtroom get all shy for a woman. Watching the both of them eye-fuck each other made him nauseaus. “Just go up to her.”

“Mmm,” Shiu shuffles on the stool, eyes trailing back to the stunning woman. He’s always talked himself out of it, even now. “It doesn’t seem like the right moment.”

Toji can’t help but chuckle at that, eyes flickering from Shiu to the woman. “Right now seems like the perfect moment actually.”

However, Shiu remains still, belligerent on his choices. Considering the lengths that Shiu went to ensure that Toji didn’t land himself in jail, it seemed fair that the lad try to do him a favor in helping his lawyer land the woman of his dreams, even if it’ll only be for the night. The grazing of the chair legs against the wooden floor calls for Shiu’s attention as Toji stands up. “If you don’t, then I will. She seems to be my type as well.”

“What?” Shiu’s quick to his feet, watching how Toji sauntered over to the beauty herself. There’s no stopping the taller man, seeing how he approaches her and is quick to strike up conversation. Her eyes light up talking to Toji, and Shiu’s about to lose hope believing that the man had swept the woman off of her feet. He takes his seat back at the stool, back facing the two of them when he hears feet approaching him. He feels like he’s back in his teens again, shying away from what he wants.

“Did you come back to gloat?” he asks, beckoning the bartender over for another glass. A soft and feminine chuckle calls for his attention, that glum feeling quickly reverting to disbelief. The fine dime herself standing right before him as she’s fidgeting with the bangles around her wrist. She’s prettier up close, her curly hair out and sporting an afro as it rises in volume. Beautiful skin that the blue lights don't do justice to her skin tone. Her lips shine under the light when she smiles, lined in a shade or two darker than her complexion underneath the gloss.

She’s nervous, he can tell, but she bats her eyelashes cutely as she tilts her head to the side. “No, actually I came to see if you’d like to have a drink with me.”

Shiu has come to learn that her name’s (Y/M), a foreigner from America visiting Japan for vacation, but considering moving here permanently, trying to see if she could possibly qualify to teach English. (Y/M) learns that Shiu is a lawyer who’s contemplating on opening up his own law firm at some point, and that she’s managed to captivate the eyes of someone who could potentially financially secure her for the rest of her life if she’s willing to go on a couple of dates with him to see where this will lead. Toji’s long forgotten by now, but Shiu makes a mental note to thank the bastard when he gets the chance. Toji has found his way out the door shortly after his exchange with the woman, sure that Shiu’s got the bill covered.

Shiu brings (Y/M) to his house not too long after. Hands roaming her body as her moans make his body melt into hers. It was an unforgettable night and it created a lasting future, where Shiu never planned to start his legacy so soon. However, with (Y/M)’s announcement that she’s pregnant brings him nothing but joy the moment it falls from her beautiful lips. He reassures her that she’ll never have to worry about a thing. And he’s made sure to keep his promise for the most part, rarely being her source of stress despite the amount of disagreements they’ve had. He is always trying to appease her in every way possible. It seems like the uncontrollable slowing the both of them down, one of them being you.

Shiu always wanted children, a legacy to carry out his name with someone he loves. While he never anticipated having a child so soon within the relationship that’s barely started, he was more than ecstatic to have you, much to (Y/M)’s surprise. Shiu had ensured that her stay in Japan became permanent, buying a ring to decorate her left ring finger and marrying (Y/M) as soon as possible. He made her pregnancy a breeze, hiring a helper inside his home to aid with the household duties. When (Y/M) finally went into labor, Shiu made sure that she had time for herself during postpartum, not enjoying how she’d curl up in a ball and cry her eyes out in his chest, believing that she’d be a horrible parent.

The issue wasn’t that you were a difficult child to take care of. No, you were easy, and maybe that was the issue itself. You were too easy. A saint and the apple of both of your parents’ eyes. The problem came when you were older and there wasn’t anything particularly… extraordinary about you. You didn’t have anything that really captivated anyone’s eye— no talent, no hobby that you found yourself hyper fixated in, nothing that called a spark within you. You were average in your studies to say the least. Shiu made sure to hire tutors whenever you were struggling with a certain subject. You didn’t really care for afterschool clubs or anything involving sports— you didn’t like to sweat, yuck. No, you just enjoyed mundane and locking yourself inside of your room despite both of your parents’ persistence in spending time with you.

When people spoke about Shiu Kong, it was all praise and glory. However, when they spoke about his daughter, his only child, they hesitated to come up with the right words to say. One finger on their lips as they pondered how to sound polite. You were just average. There was nothing special about you and because of that, no one saw the potential that you could possibly have.

Unfortunately, they never took the time to realize how their constant scrutinizing would impact you. How when they whispered about you, you would take notice of their quick glances immediately. How their smiles never met their eyes when they spoke to you and their compliments were fake, their pitch a bit too high to sound authentic when you showed them something you were doing. You hated it and wished that one day, someone would tell you what they thought right in front of your face with confidence. But, that day has yet to come.

It brings you to shame that your parents can’t even be truthful to you. How they spoke to you so lovingly for years about how you had such a bright future ahead of you, but behind closed doors, they sounded concerned for your future.

When Shiu and your mother believed that you were sound asleep, having tucked you in and told you goodnight already, they were downstairs doing their habitual night time ritual. Sitting at the dining table, they’re next to each other with a glass of red wine in front of them. Shiu swirls it as he looks inside the bulbous glass, watching it swivel around at his motions. His wife was sitting next to him as she had yet to touch her glass. Something was plaguing her mind and he knew that he had to pry it out of her with a simple question. “What’s on your mind, honey?”

Finally does she let out the heavy sigh that’s been residing heavily on her chest, forcing her down into a slump. Her posture straightens from what you can see, peeking from just around the corner. You’ve gotten better at this, seeing how they’ve yet to catch you in a heartbeat. “I’m worried about her, Shiu.”

“About what exactly?” He knows exactly what, but he always found it better when (Y/M) spoke out her thoughts, said everything from the depths of her soul. When she couldn’t find the right words, he’d help her scour for them.

“About her future,” (Y/M) sighs, afraid to admit this. “She’s not a very bright child.”

At that, your eyes widen as you let out a gasp. You had to cover your mouth in fear that they heard you, but they’re so immersed with each other, it leaves you in the clear. Your heart starts racing as your feet move involuntarily. Your steps manage to remain gentle as you climb them back and head back to your room. Unbeknownst to them that their daughter had overheard their conversation, Shiu and (Y/M) keep talking. Shiu’s head tilting in concern at the confession as he frowns. “What do you mean by that? (Y/N)’s a very…”

(Y/M) gives Shiu a knowing look, proving her point. “See? You can’t even finish your sentence.”

“Yes, but our child isn’t a dunce,” Shiu scolds. “Sure, her reports don’t reflect positive grades from time to time, but she gets the help she needs.”

“And what happens when she can’t get that assistance, hm?” (Y/M) retorts. “What happens when she takes her exams and they don’t positively reflect on her homework scores and project reports, then what?”

“You’re being ridiculous, (Y/M),” Shiu raises his voice, setting the wine glass down at his wife’s ridiculing of their daughter. “She’s only eight years old, and she’s not dumb. She just has a hard time grasping certain concepts. It’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

“Yes, but what about everything else?” (Y/M) rebuttals. “She doesn’t partake in the activities and events other kids want to participate in. She doesn’t show interest in any clubs or sports. All she does is lock herself up in the room all day when she gets the chance! She doesn’t even want to eat dinner with us!”

“Yes because her mother is calling her dumb behind her back!”

You’ve never witnessed or heard your parents argue, even on that same night. You immediately shut the doors and climbed back underneath the covers when you were back in your bedroom, the pillows clogging your ears and silencing everything as you sobbed yourself to sleep. The next morning your dad was nowhere to be seen, having left for work early because he couldn’t stand to be in the same vicinity as his wife.

(Y/M) felt worse as the day went by. Shiu always made sure that the weekends were reserved for family time and for him to willingly head to work, she knew she was in the wrong. Looking over at you, it didn’t make it any better. Especially when your fork clinked against the plate as you finished your food, carrying the empty dish to the sink as the silence of both you and your mother ate at you. “Where’s daddy?”

She took your plate, turning on the water to rinse it off. “At work.”

“He’s never at work on the weekends,” you note, stating the obvious. Your mother could only sighed, “There’s a first to everything, my dear.”

From that point forward, you always tried to put in a little more effort. You took up clubs and activities that you found interesting, committing to them for the entirety of your childhood all the way to graduating high school. Though, nothing really changed as you never found anything that sparked joy within you.

You’ve found that out of your two parents, you found yourself a true daddy’s girl, enjoying his company the most. Even if the two of you would just watch crappy television shows in silence. It brought you comfort. So, when it was time for you to choose what you wanted to major in, you had finally decided on something— that you’d follow in your father’s footsteps.

The topic of college became more frequent once you hit high school. (Y/M) and Shiu would always ask you what you wanted to do, or what you were thinking about doing, but you always shrugged and said that you were undecided. Your father always kept such a nonchalant gaze before looking back at his phone, but you’d always see that annoying glint in your mother’s eyes. (Un)fortunately for her, in junior year, you finally made a choice.

“I think I’m interested in pursuing law.” You said it so nonchalantly that it caught both of your parents off guard, having them stop in their tracks. You— you want to pursue law?

When Shiu said he wanted a child to carry out his legacy, he didn’t specifically mean that they had to follow in his exact footsteps. He meant he wanted a legacy where those who descend after him all end up in a decent position. Frankly, he didn’t think you were cut out for law. You didn’t have the personality for it. You weren’t timid, but you were quiet and you never really raised your voice for anything. You had to be someone domineering in the courtroom and he didn’t see you as one. However, that didn’t mean it was too late for you.

(Y/M) didn’t see your potential. She had made that very clear all those years ago, and people always feigned brightness when it came to you. However, if you were serious about this, he’d help you every step of the way and help you where you needed to go. (Y/M) wore an incredulous look all over her face, standing in disbelief as she choked on her words, wanting to talk you out of it. However, Shiu beat her to it.

“Okay,” he spoke, reciprocating the same nonchalance you sported. “Do you have any idea which university you want to attend?”

With your father’s eyes on you now, granting you the attention you never thought you’d get, you grow shy as you squirm in place. “I was thinking about Kyoto University.”

“Ah, you wanna follow in your old man’s footsteps, I see,” he winks at you, chuckling as he straightens his posture. “Well, you work on what you need to do to apply, I’ll sort out everything else.”

“Mhm,” you hum before trotting back up the stairs. When you’re finally gone, (Y/M) finally breaks the silence.

“Shiu, you can’t be serious,” she chastises her husband for entertaining you. (Y/M) had come to accept who you are, that you’re just an average girl and that perhaps you didn’t need to make it as big as her husband is. However, for you to pursue law? It sounded ridiculous. There was no way you’d be able to survive such strenuous studies, especially in one of the top schools for law. They had a rigorous law program.

“Oh, I am,” Shiu sits up. “If she says she wants to pursue law, then let her.”

“Aren’t you afraid that she’ll crash and burn?” (Y/M) hates how he’s been so monotone about everything. How he doesn’t even seem to be concerned for your well being. How is he so willing for you to just make a decision that seems so abrupt? Just a couple of weeks ago, you were still indecisive and today you just got up and decided that you want to become a lawyer? (Y/M) shakes her head, dropping what she’s doing as she rests her elbows down on the kitchen counter, shutting her eyes. “I can’t believe you're entertaining this.”

“You can’t believe I’m entertaining what?” Shiu cocks up an eyebrow. “You can’t believe I’m supporting our child’s endeavors? Weren’t you the one worried for her future?”

“You’re not even listening to me!” (Y/M) groans. “I’m glad that she’s made up her mind, but law? Shiu, don’t be ridiculous, you know she wouldn’t last over a month in those classes.”

“I bet she’ll last the entire year,” Shiu challenges. “And even if she doesn’t, we’ll support whatever she does next.”

“Yeah, until your bank account is drained, then what will we do?” She mutters, scoffing.

Shiu’s fist bangs against the table, frightening (Y/M) and making her jump. He points at her, a harsh glare in his eyes as his dark pupils stare back at hers. “Y’know, I love you, (Y/M). I do, really and truly. But I don’t like the person you’ve become. Fix it before we’re no more.”

—

Shiu would go through the greatest depths of hell for you. He’s come to learn this the moment he finds himself on the phone, contacting the board of admissions in regards to you. And people would question his faith for you, ask him if he really thinks you wouldn't be able to get in on your own, but he only wants to secure a spot for you. You said you wanted to go to Kyoto University, so he’ll make sure you get into it. It’s not that hard when you're an alumni who still makes monetary contributions.

It takes nothing, but a few phone calls to have everything settled. Yet, you still work on your college essays, having your father read them over for you before getting the okay. Considering the growth you’ve had over the years, Shiu can’t say he’s too concerned about you. It’s not like you never tried, using the resources he’s given you each time you needed assistance with your work. Despite your aloof attitude, you have drive. And it makes him feel ashamed that your mother can’t see that within you.

When you get the letter from Kyoto University, you’re running to your dad first. Meeting him at his law firm and asking him. Never have you voluntarily come to the firm, but when his secretary is telling him that his daughter is waiting for him outside of his office, there’s a spark of joy ignited in him. Within your eyes, there’s glee and excitement as you jump into his arms, telling him that you got accepted. His arms wrapped around you as you jumped into his arms, letting him spin you around in this moment of celebration. A genuine smile on your face as you come to terms with your decision, ready to put in the work in getting what you want.

That summer when you graduate, you put away your plans of leisure to spend most of your days in the office. You had packed breakfast, lunch and dinner, your dad taking extraneous hours at work. You also have your laptop and a notebook with you, wanting to gather as much information from your father as well as having to complete summer assignments for your upcoming courses. He’s proud of you, seeing you go the extra mile and taking it seriously.

Your mother’s also seeing how you’re taking this seriously, finally convinced of your choices. She starts waking up with the both of you, preparing your meals and sneaking in extra snacks inside your lunch. Your relationship with your mother has always been something rocky, where the two of you could never truly see each other eye-to-eye. You never felt like her daughter, only someone she scrutinized under a spectacle as she tried creating you in her own image. And you never made her feel like a mother, not accepting her affection and never seeking out her comfort.

(Y/M) remembers how when you first started your period, you’d rather talk to your father about it. You cried in his lap about the boy who told everyone in the class that you were bleeding out of your vagina. Shiu tried pushing you to confide in your mother, but you refused and forced him to go shopping for menstrual products. (Y/M) had to write down a list of specific products for Shiu to pick up while going to the store with you. Your mother never had thought about the way she treated you until seeing you going to work with your father. She never truly considered how you felt, and though she felt like it was too late, she was trying to put in more effort in showing you that she truly did love you.

When the summer was over and it was move-in day, (Y/M) and Shiu both took time off to send you off, helping you bring in your belongings and sort everything out just how you wanted. And when it came time for them to leave, Shiu held onto you, afraid to let go. You chuckled, trying to pry your father off of you. “You’re acting like you’ll never see me again.”

“We might not,” Shiu sniffled, hiding his face in your shirt in an attempt to wipe away his tears. You squirmed in his hold until he finally let go of you, seeing how red his eyes were. It wasn’t like you weren’t going to miss your parents, you would. However, it just hasn’t settled in yet.

(Y/M) stood behind you both awkwardly as your father gave you words of encouragement, having you promise him that if you needed any help, you’d contact him — even if it’s to get away with murder. She finally intervenes when she sees that her husband won’t pry away from you anytime soon. “(Y/N), can I talk to you for a second— privately?”

“Yeah, okay.” With a cock of your eyebrow, you nod hesitantly as you step away from your father and head out of the room. She’s fidgeting with her hands, eyes failing to meet yours. She takes a deep breath, sucking in her tears.

“I want to—” Your mother chokes up, voice trailing off before she’s clearing her voice. “Y’know what, nevermind. Just know that I’m going to make it up to you. I love you, baby, and I’m very proud of you.”

You don’t know what she means with ‘I’m going to make it up to you,’ but you accept her hug. You accept the tight grip she wraps around your body, finally finding comfort in her touch. Even if it’s just for the moment.

College is freeing to a certain extent. No longer under the scrutiny and judgment of family and around strangers, you feel like you’re open to do whatever you want. Legally an adult, where you no longer need the consent of your parents to partake in things that they’d show their concerns over. You can make the wrong choices and come to regret it later without any berating, and you can make a schedule that best works for you.

You made the right decision on selecting your classes early, having an ideal schedule— Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. With Mondays and Fridays off, it gave you time to study and catch up on things that you might’ve fallen behind on. Four classes within the semester, one of them being a fast-paced class that only lasted eight weeks. Two classes on Tuesday, one on Wednesday and Thursday. It seemed like something you’d be able to manage.

However, some people didn’t share your same ideologies, not planning ahead as you sit in front of those people right now— and it was more so a person. You were sitting with three other incoming freshmen, Itadori Yuuji, Kugisaki Nobara, and Fushiguro Megumi. Of the three, Nobara was the only one in the law program with you. Yuuji was undecided and Megumi was majoring in Biochemistry. The boy with the puppy dog eyes and salmon-toned hair seemed like an angel from the time you’ve spoken to them since they’ve decided to adopt you in their little crew, but not very wise when it came to decision making. Now, you’re watching him struggle to find good classes to take as all the professors left seem to have low ratings. Megumi has his face down in his phone, ignoring Nobara’s snickers at Yuuji’s stupidity, well accustomed to their banters.

“We told you to sign up for classes early,” Nobara points out. “Hell, we even set up a date where we could do it together, so we’d have days that we can spend together.”

“Yeah, but you know I couldn’t make that day,” Yuuji pouts.

“But when we tried rescheduling, you were hellbent on us not waiting up for you.” Yuuji sighs, knowing that Nobara’s right. Groaning, he can only accept defeat as he scrolls and tries to make a schedule for himself that’s someone appeasing. “Just tell me what days you guys will be free.”

It gives you some solace that you won’t be completely alone, having Nobara in some of your classes providing you a sense of relief as you can both study alongside each other when the time comes. None of your high school friends had applied to Kyoto and some of the students from your old school who were attending weren’t people in your major or you weren’t too fond of. It makes that first day of classes more bearable the moment you step foot in it, finding a seat not too far from the front but not immediately in the back. You set your bag on the seat to the right of you, saving it for your newfound friend when she finally makes it in.

Higuruma Hiromi— you vaguely remember the name as you could swear that he was a colleague of your father. When you had chosen him as a professor, the thought never crossed your mind until now that you’re sitting inside the lecture room and waiting for his arrival. You’re amongst five other students who’ve arrived early as they’re putting out their laptops, textbooks and a manila folder. What’s the manila folder for— Shit! You immediately slump back in your chair, eyes shutting as you hold your breath. You had completely forgotten to print out the summer assignment as it was instructed for you to do. You had it saved on a USB drive, but you don’t know if this one little slip up will be easily dismissed. So much for starting off your classes strong.

Just in that moment does Nobara walk in, spotting you in a flash and climbing up the steps to greet you. You lift up your bag, not before dropping it in front of you and wailing at your stupid mistake. Taking a seat as she unpacks her stuff, Nobara knits her eyebrows together, something evidently wrong with you. “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to print out the summer assignment,” you groan, simultaneously as you hear a bunch of keys jingling and a set of heavy shoes clunking on the marble tiles. Lifting your head up, you can vividly remember him now. Short and dark brown hair that always looks stringy. He always looked tired or bored whenever you saw him in your youth, his small brown pupils that never gave you a look of emotion whenever you were around. He’d always give you a weak ‘hello’ out of politeness before his attention was fixated back on your father, talking about God knows what.

Now you’re taking closer notice of him. Average height and a slender build as he walks towards his desk, letting out a heavy sigh that has all the students silent. It’s still not time for classes to start, plenty of students starting to trickle in from behind. You always thought he was paler, but there’s a tint in his skin. He dresses professionally, wearing a typical black suit and tie with a sunflower pin on his left shoulder to signify his previous status as an attorney.

From what you can remember about Higuruma, he was a fierce attorney just like your father and he only fought for those who were wrongfully accused. Him and your father sat along the same boat of men that were greatly admired in the courtroom. You don’t remember hearing that he retired from being a lawyer and your father never mentioned him working here. You wondered if the two had some sort of falling out. You thought the two were close friends.

“Don’t worry,” Nobara tries assuring you. “I’m pretty sure he’ll understand. You did do it.”

When class is ready to start, the room is packed with over one hundred students. People are still shuffling to take their belongings out of their bags as Higuruma is getting the projector up and running, giving the students just a little bit more time before lecture begins. You have your laptop open with your textbook set to the side as well as a spiral notebook and a pencil pouch. While Nobara’s words had given you some sort of comfort, sure that he would be understanding, it still didn’t take away that nagging sensation in your chest.

He cleared his throat, finally taking a stand and adjusting his suit jacket. His voice remained calm, yet it boomed and called the attention of everyone from the mic pinned to the jacket. “Good morning, everyone! And welcome to JGVT1101, the History of the Japanese Government.

“My name is Professor Higuruma and please address me as such,” he continues. “This will be one of your first classes with me, but surely not your last as you will be stuck with me throughout your years enrolled within the law program. I will not dive deep about my personal life, just know that I used to be a lawyer and attended this very same university when I was around your age.

“I will not lie to you and say that each and every one of you will make it to be a lawyer, but I will say that in order to pass my class it is vital that you do everything I say and complete assignments how I expect them to. Starting with the summer assignment, everyone passes them up.”

You feel uneasy as everyone else seems to have their assignments printed out, even Nobara as she hands it to the person on her left as they all pile up into one stack at the front. You’re fidgeting with the bracelets on your hand, pulling at the elastic as you try to bring yourself to focus on anything else but it.

“I will have the class syllabus going around,” he further announced. “Please make sure to take one and keep it somewhere safe. It has all the assignments listed down and when they’re expected to be turned in.”

The class goes by smoothly until it’s close to the end, where Higuruma sets you guys up with a partner and assigns you to discuss one of the questions viewed on the screen. Perched at his desk, he’s checking off those who have turned in their assignment, seeing that only a few students haven’t had their names marked off. He looks through the list, noticing your name— your last name specifically. Kong. He hasn’t seen that name in a while.

“Kong (Y/N),” he calls your name, pulling the mic hooked to his jacket closer. It makes your head pop in his direction, looking him clearly in his eyes. You’ve grown a lot since the last time he’s seen you. When was that? When you were a little over twelve? He can’t quite remember, but you’ve surely grown. Features more womanly and grown in. At one point you favored your mother, then Shiu the next. Now, you’re a fine mixture of the two— though whenever he did look at you, your eyes vividly came from your father. “Can you explain to me why your paper hasn’t been submitted?”

“Oh, um…” You can feel your heart stuck inside your throat, eyes deviating away from his as you're not sure what to say. You know what to say, but did he really have to call you out in front of the entire class? “I forgot to print it out, but—”

He comes to stand, the swivel chair sliding backwards as he does, cutting your excuse short. “And this class is an example of what I don’t want. How can you expect to get anywhere in life if you show up the first day unprepared?”

“Is that really necessary?” Nobara leans into you with the scrunch of her eyebrows. “He didn’t have to call you out in front of the classroom. I’m pretty sure there’s at least one student who didn’t even complete it at all.”

“Miss Kong, if this is going to be typical behavior from you, I suggest you drop out of my class immediately.”

People around you start to chatter, some siding with the professor and some ridiculing him for calling you out like that. Nonetheless, you grow flustered as you feel all eyes on you. He’s right. If you had just remembered to print out the assignment beforehand, you wouldn’t be in this damn predicament, getting condemned before everyone. You’re only grateful that he doesn’t call your name out for the rest of the class. Only until he’s finally dismissing you all, the name he’s already set for you ringing through the air once more. “Miss Kong, please stay behind. I’d like to have a word with you.”

You can only respond with a meek ‘okay’ as everyone’s trailing outside the door. Nobara hesitates to leave you alone, but you dismiss her and assure her that you’ll be fine. You don’t know what he could possibly want from you. He’s already said what he needed during class. However, you’ll take this opportunity in hopes to plead a little bit of extra time. You just needed to print it out.

Everyone trickles out quickly, leaving the enormous room just for the two of you as you shuffle in his direction, stopping not too short of his desk. He doesn’t say anything for a second, stacking the manila folders into a neat pile and setting them inside of a cart. He clears his throat, eyes flickering to yours before they go back on the task at hand. “Do you think that a judge would accept an unprepared lawyer?”

“No,” you immediately answer, your voice low and dry.

“Then why do you think that I should accept your late paper, hm?” He pauses, expecting a response.

“Um…”

“A lawyer must always be prepared with a rebuttal,” Higuruma holds his head high. “No stuttering, um’s and uh’s in the courtroom. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Hig— Yes, Professor.”

At your slip up, Higuruma pauses. Glancing up at you with a raised eyebrow as he lets out an exasperated sigh. “How’s your father been? It’s been a while since I’ve last spoken to him.”

“He’s fine,” you shrug. “For the most part. He’s—”

“He won’t be fine if his daughter ends up a failure,” he remarks, setting the last of his stuff inside the cart, pulling up the handle as he throws you a stern look. His eyes squinting low as if daring you to challenge him. However, your mouth’s gone dry as you’re speechless.

“I— I can have it for you in the next hour.”

“Try thirty minutes,” he rebuttals. “Anything later won’t be accepted. You’re dismissed.”

You don’t hesitate to spin on your heel, hurrying out of the class. You’re practically running out, throwing the door and letting it slam shut on the way out. Higuruma chuckles, watching you rush out of the lecture hall as he finally pulls out the cart along with him. He’ll give you the courtesy of adding ten extra minutes, but seeing the determination written all over your face the moment he gave you extra time, he’s ready to bed that the thirty will be enough.

Unlike you, Higuruma remembered you clearly as the day when he saw your name on his roster. He didn’t believe it at first, wondering if your name was a common one. Surely, Shiu would’ve called him and informed him that his daughter had decided to pursue law at the same college both of them attended in their younger years. However, since Higuruma had called it quits, he hadn’t heard from Shiu since.

He never planned on retiring from being a lawyer so soon. No, there was still so much fire in him that yearned to be back on the playing field, but after his last case. He thought it was best to call it quits, the scar residing on his chest being enough motivation to do so. Days that he spent in the hospital recovering as his mother cried over his wounded body. She had warned him about his strong pursuit for justice, to be careful of what he was doing or he’d anger the wrong set of people. He knew that was the case, that being a lawyer wasn’t always the safest career. However, he was passionate about it and couldn’t let it up because the unjust wanted to live freely. Shiu could let them run around freely, but not him.

Maybe that’s why he hasn’t contacted him after all these years. Maybe there’s guilt residing on his chest after all this time. Higuruma always suspected Shiu’s involvement in his accident, but he could never find enough evidence for it. It led to Higuruma giving up his one man search forcing himself to forgive the man. He couldn’t bear the stress of being angry and having a vengeful spirit. However, seeing you really provoked that anger that he thought was long gone.

Were you to end up like your father? Higuruma highly doubted it. You were a frail little thing, and he won’t apologize when he says he agreed with your mom. Shiu had called him up one night when they were still friends, confided in him and told him that his wife didn’t believe in you. Didn’t believe that you’d make it far in life.

He’s met you and had a few conversations with you. You were only a child, yes, but the typical child would have an answer on standby when asked what they wanted to be when they grow up. You? You only shrugged your shoulders and didn’t say anything more. He was sure that you’d find a place where you’re wanted— needed— but in law?

Higuruma scoffed to himself. Law did not need another Kong.

—

“How dare he?” Nobara stabbed at her lunch in anger, the chopsticks ferociously dividing the apple into two pieces in one go. She seemed to be angrier than you about the entire ordeal despite the fact that you told her he had given you a second chance and you managed not to mess it up this time. “I had talked to a few other students and they had said they didn’t submit it, so why did he come after you? I hate a hardass that’s so unfair. How did he even call himself a lawyer?”

You didn’t want to voice your speculations. And you didn’t want to voice that you knew him outside of your classes. You didn’t want her perspective on you to shift, liking how the girl was ready to take up for you. Her bottom lip jutted out in anger, an adorable pout settling on her features as she shoved the piece of fruit in her mouth.

Megumi sat beside Nobara, for once, interested in the conversation. “I don’t know, that’s weird. I would report him to the Dean.”

You scrunch your eyebrows in between your lunch, still chewing your food. “It was just the first day of classes,” you fan off the situation. “Maybe my name was the first option and he just wanted to make an example to set the tone for the rest of the semester.”

You hadn’t told them every aspect of what happened when he had called you to stay behind. That would reveal too much and surely set Nobara off in flames, seeing how red her face is with anger right now. You were really hoping that this would be a one time occurrence as you didn’t want to have a professor with whatever personal vendetta they had against you. Higuruma was vile and cruel with his words, where they felt completely unnecessary and targeted. However, you pushed your intuition back, not wanting to start the very first year of college off on a bad note.

“Maybe,” Megumi shrugs. “But you don’t want it to turn into some big thing. Just be careful, okay?”

Later that night, your mom calls you. Picking up the phone, you hold it to your ears as your voice is low. Your roommate had already fallen asleep while you were up, starting ahead on your class readings. “Hey, mom. It’s late, why’re you still up?”

“I should ask you the same,” your mom’s voice sounds. “Don’t tell me you’ve already started studying? Have the professors already started teaching?”

“Yeah, they have,” you chuckled. “Plus, I want to stay on top of things.”

“I just wanted to call in and check on you!” She sounds happy on the other line, and you can’t help but notice the silence in the background. From the moment you got here and they had to leave, whenever your mom initiated a phone call, your dad was always next to her. “Hope you’re settling in well.”

“I am,” you sigh. “Is dad not with you right now?”

“No,” your mom yawns. You can hear the ruffling of the bed sheets move as she’s climbing into bed. “He’s working late tonight.”

“Oh, well,” you start, Higuruma coming to mind. “Mom, do you remember Higuruma?”

There’s a long pause on the other line. Your mom’s heart rating picking up a beat as she hadn’t heard that name in a long while. You have to call out her name again to snap her outside of whatever trance that she was under. “Oh, sorry, dear. Yeah, I remember him. He used to be one of your dad’s closest colleagues. Why?”

“He’s a professor at Kyoto University,” you inform her. “I actually have him for one of my classes.”

“He is?” Your mom’s attention has been called, sitting up in the bed as she’s wide awake. “He hasn’t bothered you by any chance, has he?”

Her question catches you off guard, making you wonder if your mother or your dad have set people to watch over you on campus. More so, your father. How could you possibly know if Higuruma was bothering you within less than twenty four hours? However, you try to play it cool, ready to deny her concerns. “No, I was just wondering… We haven’t seen him in a while and I wanted to know why he never visited anymore?”

Your mother loses her guard for a moment, becoming candid with you— er, giving you half the truth. “Oh, well, after his accident, Higuruma decided to quit law. And we tried reaching out, but we never heard from him again.”

“Accident?”

“Yeah,” your mom hums. “Some guys didn’t like their sentence and once they were let out, they came after him. Scared Higuruma shirtless, I guess, so he decided to switch career paths.”

“Oh,” you gasped. “I never knew that.”

“You were really young at the time,” Mom says. “We didn’t want you to burden you with something like that.”

Shortly after, you and your mom are bidding each other good night before hanging up the phone. You’re left speechless at the newfound information that it leaves you unfocused. Shutting off your laptop and closing your textbook, you set it aside and crawl underneath the covers. Your mom, on the other hand, still sits up in the king-sized bed, pondering on what she should do next. Never did she think that Shiu’s past would come back to haunt them.

They made sure to cut all ties with the man, their plan working as the man resigned from his position as an attorney and they never heard from him again. It was planned so meticulously that to this day, Shiu and her aren’t sure whether or not Higuruma had detected it was them. Maybe he had an inkling, but if the man really wanted to go with his gut, they’d soon end up on the floor.

She didn’t want to burden her husband with the past, but was it really safe that their daughter’s in the hands of a man that they had bad blood with? Scrolling through her contacts before Shiu’s name popped up, her thumb hovered over the call button ready to click it. You said you were fine though, that he hadn’t done anything to bother you in any type of way. So, maybe she should trust your word. Shutting her eyes, (Y/M) throws the phone down on the bed, her face in her hands as she lets out a huff. “Fuck me.”

However, sleep riddles her mind before she can truly think about it. Forgetting her phone, she reaches for the night lamp, pulling at the metal string until she hears that click and the light goes off. When her head hits the pillow, she’s out like a light and the next day. She forgets all about her conversation with you.

—

You thought it would end there, but Higuruma found pleasure in your torment. Where he’s no longer calling you out in front of one hundred students, but writing snide notes in your assignments, overanalyzing everything that you do down to your vocabulary and grammar. When he asks you to stay back behind class, it’s to further chastise and criticize you for every tiny mistake that you make.

It makes you lose sleep as you’ve hours past midnight studying, the small lamp over-shining your textbooks as your upperclassman roommate, Maki Zenin, watches you with concern. Oftentimes, she’s warning you, telling you to get rest and buying you little treats to get through the day because she knows you haven’t slept. It’s become such a concern that when Nobara stops by, she tells her what’s been going on.

It’s the middle of first semester and you’re trying to complete work that’s due towards the end, trying to stay on top of all of your classes, but especially his. Maki couldn’t take it anymore, letting in the younger girl the moment she heard her knock and letting her crash through the dorm room. You don’t even notice as you’re nose deep into your assignments, an impending migraine resting on your head. Nobara snatches the textbook, throwing it to Maki’s side of the room in a rush.

“Hey! I need that!”

“No, you don’t!” Nobara immediately barks back. “(Y/N), have you ever eaten anything?”

You hesitate to answer, so you decide not to at all. Since she took your textbook, you reach for your laptop, but she proves to be even faster. Handling it gently, she shuts the screen and clutches it to her chest as her shoulders drop and tilts her head to the side. “You need to quit it, (Y/N). Not eating properly, no sleep? What’s this all about because you and I share the majority of our classes together and the work isn’t as strenuous as you’re making it seem?”

You wouldn’t cave in and confide in Nobara about your worries, failing to meet her eyes. However, she had an inkling that she knew what— or whom— had provoked you to this point. “Is it Professor Higuruma?”

You had never been a good liar apparently, always getting caught in them when you were younger, but you muster up a roll in your eyes as you scoff. “No,” it sounded so convincing that it killed the girl’s suspicion. “I just wanted to get ahead of my work and make sure I’m understanding the material.”

“Well, understanding the material won’t do you any good if you drop dead from exhaustion.” Nobara sets the laptop down on your nightstand, picking up your spiral notebooks and setting them on top of it as she scoots herself on the bed, kicking off her shoes. “We’re going to sleep.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you watch as she pulls your folded blanket from the corner of your bed and unravels it. When she tells you to move over, you do so unconsciously making space for her. “We?”

“Yes, we,” Nobara confirms. “Since you won’t listen to Maki to the point she had to stop me on the way to classes to have a mini-intervention with you, I’m going to make sure that you actually fall asleep. Now, come snuggle up. I heard cuddling helps.”

It does. You and Nobara fall asleep in each other’s hold. It was so cute to witness that Maki had taken a few pictures herself, making sure to send them to you when you wake up. Luckily for you, the next day was Friday, so you didn’t have any classes. You managed to sleep in just fine, but Nobara on the other hand? She forgot that she had a ten a.m. class and was nearly late. She had to run there in her clothes from before and the purse she had brought with her. You felt guilty for making her late, keeping her there for so long because of the mess you put on yourself. You didn’t need to put in this extra work to prove yourself. You were doing just fine in all of your classes, including Higuruma’s. So why were you doing all of this?

You tried to take the day off, to rest and rejuvenate your mind, body and soul. However, you felt an itch inside of you. An itch that berated you for the studying you’ve missed for being so lackadaisical— that time you had allotted for it now down the drain. You reached for your textbook again and opened back your laptop, ignoring the sting in your eyes as you grabbed your notebook and pen. Right back in that loop you’ve put yourself in.

(Y/N),

Please meet me in my office on Sunday, October 13, 2024. Two p.m. sharp.

Professor Higuruma

Higuruma always prided himself in being a just man, but he knew what he was doing to you wasn’t fair. You had potential in you after all, it seemed. You turned in decent work that didn’t make him want to gag, where it was better than a quarter than the other kids. You were putting in the work surely, always trying to correct the mistakes and errors he had highlighted in red. It seemed like you were seeking his validation through the desperation and lengths you were willing to take. He didn’t need to see it and you didn’t need to say a word, it’s in all of your work. And he can’t help, but boast to himself that he’s managed to tear you down with just using a sentence or two within his “constructive” criticism. He sends the email without a second thought, the corner of his lip twitching upwards in doing so.

You see the notification on your smart watch, an email from Professor Higuruma. You reach for your phone, swiping at the notification to open and unlocking your phone. Reading anything from him brings a spike of anxiety running down your spine, especially given the fact he wants to see outside of school hours. You don’t think about it too deeply to notice its suspicion in his request, simply replying to confirm that you will be there and playing right into the devil’s hand.

When you meet with Higuruma, his door is open. Sitting in his seat, he doesn’t look up from his work. He’s slouched forward, small brown pupils that always look exhausted as they flicker to you finally. He fixes his posture, straightening the white buttoned down shirt he’s wearing as he motions you to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

From there, he takes you in. You’re not wearing anything fancy, a t-shirt and jeans shorts that he’d deem too short. When you sit, the fat of your thighs join together and make Higuruma come to terms with just how much you’ve blossomed into a beautiful young woman in his absence. He should be disgusted by how it makes him feel, rumbling something deep inside him. He wants you to feel bad for it.

“I see you couldn’t even be bothered to put on something decent,” he comments, clicking out of a tab to lean in the swivel chair. He folds his hands together, clicking his tongue on the brim of his mouth and giving you another once over. “Who’s going to take you seriously if you can’t even come to a meeting with your professor in appropriate attire?”

This guise of preparing you for the real world, for becoming a lawyer— it’s all too easy and you’re all too gullible. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware that this was something really important or not—”

“It’s not,” he retorts, getting up from his seat, he brings himself in front of you, towering over you in a show of dominance. His hands stuffed inside the pockets of his dress pants as he leans against the edge of his desk, putting one leg over his knee. “But, you expect anyone to take you seriously dressed the way you are? Stand up.”

You don’t hesitate, standing up quickly and meeting Higuruma at eye level. He stands tall, a few inches taller than you. He’s taking a risk putting his hand on you, but considering that you’ve let him speak to you like this, he’s willing to test the waters and see. Gentle fingers that take your chin in his hand, forcing you to look directly into his eyes. He can see every flaw within you, every mark and blemish on your skin. Yet, it doesn’t deter the way his cock stirs inside his pants.

“Your father was a good lawyer— still is one— but you…” He tsks, voice getting raspy and deeper as his fingers trail down your neck to your clavicle. Pretty smooth skin is all he feels until he’s down to the hem of your shirt. He stops, trying to make his mind up. However, he’s feeling daring today. “I don’t know if you’ll even make it through the rest of your undergrad years. The work you’ve been handing in— mediocre, at best.”

He’s done more than invade your personal space, invading boundaries and crossing lines that should never be crossed as a professor and you as his student. You should tell him to stop, but the shiver down your spine does the opposite of what you want, making you inch closer to him as your breath hitches. You can feel him— his chest pressing against your chest and something pressing against your stomach. You’re praying that it’s his belt buckle, but you feel a faint stir letting you know it’s something else. His hands travel your body, stopping to graze and draw the shape of your breast.

“But— But you’ve been giving me good grades.” You knit your eyebrows together in confusion, your grades reflecting one thing but his words another.

“Yes,” he agrees before his rebuttal. “But good grades won't make you far as a lawyer. Don’t you want to be just like your daddy? Taking charge of whatever case you’re assigned that no one dares question you?”

His question makes sense, making you think about it. You want to make your father proud, and Higuruma was a man that used to stand right on your father’s level. If anyone could show you the ropes and help you other than your father, it would be him. You nod, “yes.”

“Then, you have to do everything I say,” Higuruma says. “Would you do anything I told you to?”

You take a minute to process, daring to look away before his hands are back on your face, harshly cupping your jaw and forcing you to keep eye contact before he’s repeating his question. “Would you do anything I told you to?”

“Yes,” you finally respond. After all, you’ve been doing it so willingly before. Higuruma grins, appeased with your response as he slowly nods. His grip on you loosening before finally letting go.

“Good,” he hums. “You’re to meet with me every Saturday at two p.m. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you say just above a whisper. His back is to you as he’s gathering all of his stuff. You spend a moment right there, unsure of what you should do next until he’s glancing behind him. He chuckles to himself inwardly. You’re so easy. Were you always this compliant with your parents? “You’re dismissed.”

The next time you speak with your parents, it’s in person. You’ve been listening to Nobara a bit more, taking breaks when needed. Though, Higuruma always stood in the back of your mind berating you. Somehow, he’s gotten ahold of your personal number, sending you messages and reminders that you must be studying and always aiming high if you want to be one of the best lawyers in Japan. His voice, it’s always lingering and berating you for moments of leisure like this. However, your mom and dad had been badgering you to come home and visit them as you’ve been slowly losing contact with them because of your extraneous schedule.

At the front door, you punch in the code before you hear the click of it opening. When it swings open, you’re immediately comforted by your mom’s cooking. The mouth watering aroma of a home cooked meal puts you in a trance as your feet make a bee line straight for the kitchen. Your mom’s standing behind the stove with her back to you as she hasn’t detected your arrival. In the pot is a meal that reminds her of home, something she made for you often as a child and still to this day.

A simple graze of her shoulder is enough to make her jump, a high-pitched scream coming from her lips before she’s spinning around and making the hot oil splatter against you and causing the both of you to scream. She slaps your shoulder when she finally calms down, grunting in annoyance. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“I didn’t mean to,” you can only retort, grabbing the kitchen towel to wipe off the cooling oil as your nerves settle down. When the both of you are in a calmer state, your mom pulls you into a hug.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you!” she coos, pulling away to take you in. “I didn’t expect you to come in until a bit later— are those eye bags? Have you not been sleeping properly?”

You fan away her hands that try to reach out and touch them. You groan, not feeling like talking about the subject matter. “Don’t worry about it. Where’s dad?”

The devil himself responds with, “he’s right here.” You can hear the rough shuffle of his feet pattering down the steps. “What was going on earlier? I heard screaming.”

From the small towel over his head and the wet t-shirt, it’s evident that he just came out of the shower. Your mom props a hand on her hip, side-eying you. “Oh, nothing. Just your daughter scaring her dear old mother to death.”

“It was an accident,” you roll your eyes. “I just touched her shoulder and she jumped.”

Shiu chuckles, making it to the kitchen and pulling you in for a hug. “(Y/N), you have to be careful. You know how jumpy your mother can get.”

The rest of the evening goes on smoothly as your mother finally calls you and your father over for dinner. Three plates prepared, your mother sets them down on the table as you’ve had the silverware and glasses set from before. You lean to give your mother a kiss on the cheek before sliding in your seat. “Thank you, mom.”

“Yes,” Shiu agrees. “Thank you, dear.”

“Mhm,” she chirps, finally setting down her own plate and sitting around the table next to your father. Her eyes are vibrant as she scans the area, happy to have her two prized-possessions with her in the same room again. “Shiu, can you start with the prayer?”

Halfway through your plate, your father looks over at you curiously. The bags underneath your eyes and your occasional yawns— it reminds him of his years in college. But, you’ve barely called and reached out to him as he was hoping. It made him concerned. Were you too scared to ask him for help even though he had blatantly told you he’d help you in any way, shape or form? “How have your classes been? Surely, they’re not stressing you out as much yet.”

“Oh, they’re stressing me out,” you snort. “But… nothing I can’t manage.”

“You’re not struggling with any of them, are you?” Shiu asks. “You haven’t reached out to me at all. Are you sure everything’s fine?”

“Yeah,” you reassure your father with a nod. “I’m passing all of my classes currently. And I have one of my professors offering me help outside of class hours to help me out.”

“Oh, really?” Shiu raises his eyebrows, leaning back in his chair. “Which one? I might know them.”

“You do,” you confirm. “You remember Higuruma, right? He’s a professor now, but I’m sure mom already told you about it. He’s offered to help me out with studying.”

Shiu stops eating, resting his fork gently against the plate as he knits his eyebrows together and looks at you, intaking this vital piece of information. He then glances at his wife, wondering how she could’ve forgotten to inform him of it. His wife fails to meet his eyes, forcing him to look back at you. He can’t help but repeat himself, “Oh, really?”

You nod, not noticing the scrunch of your father’s eyebrows and how heavy the atmosphere has turned. He tilts his head in curiosity, wondering the safety of his child within his old friend’s hands. “And you say he’s offered to tutor you?”

You hum in confirmation. “Yeah—”

“Honey,” Shiu stops himself, thinking about what he’s to say next. He doesn’t want to alarm you about the matter, and he’s not too sure himself if Higuruma will be a liability. The way you say it with confidence, not an ounce of fear in your mind. Is his old friend truly looking out for you for the greater good? Does he want to take this chance? “I’m not too sure about that.”

“Shiu,” your mom reaches for her husband’s hand, dissuading him from saying anything more. At the way your parents look at each other, it calls for your attention, finally aware of the suffocating tension lingering in the air.

“Why? Is something the matter?” you ask. “Mom told me about what happened to him, and he seems fine now—”

Shiu shoots his wife a glare, a simple action that speaks so many words. “Don’t worry about it, honey. It’s nothing you need to fret about.”

Your father stands up, his plate unfinished, but he’s decided that he’s had enough. “I’ll do the dishes, baby.”

He bends down to his wife's ear, planting a kiss against her temple before whispering, “we’ll talk about this later.”

—

Higuruma can prove himself to be a gentleman with you, in instances such as now where he has you on your knees, standing right in front of you with the door to his office locked. He’s got himself pressed up against you, his erection touching your face and forcing you to feel him. You decided to listen to him, wearing something more business casual in a button-up blouse and pencil skirt that had Maki questioning your whereabouts. You never did end up telling her just where you were going, heading straight through the door.

He’s caressing your face, pushing away at your braids. He had undone your ponytail, pulling the clip away to see how it fell past your shoulders. You’re a pretty sight to see like this, so obedient and following every word he says. The lights in his office are dim, but they illuminate against you. It’s as though your skin is glowing, dazzling beautifully as he’s got your cheek pressed against his erection and rubbing himself against you.

Even in proper attire, you manage to make it so sexually appealing. His eyes squinting down in disdain as he tuts out a sigh. “You just can’t seem to do anything right. I guess you’ll be one of those lawyers that sleep their way around to get what they want, huh?”

You shake your head in disagreement, making Higuruma laugh. “Oh, but yes. I’ve got you on your knees right now, looking like whore, so I believe it’s safe to assume what you’re destined for— C’mon and undo my pants for me.”

You should’ve expected it the first time you had come in for your study session, that first Saturday, he did nothing but graze his hands all over your body as he tested you on the material. Who were the most important people in the Japanese dynasty during the Heian era? When did it come to fall? He would ask you all while his hand was on your thigh, inching up and between your legs to cup your heat. You would falter and stammer on your words, feeling his hot touch embedding itself into your skin. Whenever you came close to saying a word, he’d apply pressure and glide his finger down your covered heat.

You were ashamed of yourself. Of wanting this, not telling your parents the full truth, not telling your friends either. Nobara was no longer suspicious, though Higuruma was nowhere near being one of her favorite professors, but she backed off and was no longer checking up on you as she frequently did at one point. But maybe she got tired of your lies and no one longer deemed it her concern.

However, the lust discarded all of that said shame, enjoying the way this older man makes you feel at the swipe of a finger and how his degrading words have created you into someone you could no longer recognize. You could only guess that you weren’t moving fast enough for his liking, feeling his hand come up to grip your jaw roughly and pulling you closer to him. “Aren’t you listening? Take off my pants and suck my cock like the filthy slut you are.”

Your hands tremble as the reach for the zipper of his dress pants, fingertips ghosting against his hard length. Your eyes move to flicker from him down to it, where you can feel that familiar feeling grow inside of you. That flutter deep inside your stomach as arousal pooled onto the center of your panties. You failed to wear a pair of protective shorts underneath, your legs squeezed tightly together as your juices seep through and stick to your inner thighs. Feeling that metal tab, pulling it down. You grow more daring by the second, hands moving to cup his length through the undergarment and fondle it.

You can see how his chest constricts, stopping his breath as he loses himself for a moment. But only for a moment does he shut his eyes, feeling the way your hand is gentle and causing more precum to leak from his tip, before he’s bunched up your hair together and forces you away. You try to contact the high-pitched screech that leaves from your lips. “Do you think you’re the one in charge?”

Tears prickle out from the corner of your eyes as you shake your head, your voice squeaking when you utter out, “no.”

“Then, what’d I tell you to do?” He asks.

“You told me to undo your pants.” Your heart’s beating fast, squinting your eyes as you feel the tears fall before they flutter back open to stare into Higuruma’s. For the first time, he looks so alive, and you take pride to know it’s because of you.

“Did I ask for anything more?”

“No,” you sob.

“Do I have to punish you?” Higuruma hums. “Give you a good spanking and leave that good pussy soaked?”

“No,” you croak. “Please, no.”

Gosh, he can’t help but revel in this. He has you begging. He hums some more, pondering over just what to do with you. “Maybe I will leave you all high and dry, but not before I get what I want. Since, you’re so incompetent and I have to do everything myself—” He tugs down his pants just far enough where it’s right above his knees and brings his underwear down along with it, his cock slapping against his abdomen. “—Hm, suck. Don’t use your hands. Keep them where they’re at.”

His shirt’s still on and hanging down loosely. He grips himself at the base, where it gives you a better peek up his shirt, where you can see the dark hairs of his happy trail travel to his cock. You see how’s sort of let go of himself, his pubic hair untamed. His grip on your hair is still strong, forcing your lips to touch the tip of his cock where pre stil leaks from him. The sticky translucent substance paints your lips with it. Slowly, your mouth opens and he takes the opportunity to make it wider, shoving his cock deep inside your mouth until you’re full of him.

He’s got a set of girth to him, making your mouth stretch open widely as his tip kisses the back of your throat. The mushroom-shaped head of him basking in the feeling of your mouth wrapped around him. Your mouth hollows around his length, trying to accustom yourself to the ache that’s already beginning to settle in. With one hand on your shoulder, Higuruma pushes you further down on your knees as he presses himself into your warmth. How your eyes water so beautifully as another set of tears become to showcase themselves. It causes him to groan, having a young thing like yourself in his grasp, all for him to use and take advantage of.

“The only thing you’re good for is to cry while you take cock,” Higuruma groans as he forces you off his length, watching you inhale deeply. He’s being kind by giving you this rest period, taking a moment to get your features like this memorized. How you already look a mess. “I can see it. You sprawled out on a judge’s desk, pleading with them to make you win. Legs wide open and your pussy begging to be fucked. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Bet you’re fucking soaked.”

Sheathing himself back inside of you, Higuruma groans. “‘M gonna fucking love this. Getting to use you just how I want and cum in that pretty mouth of yours.”

You can barely breathe through your nose with the force he’s using on you, pushing your head down so deep within him that what you can intake is his smell. His earthy cologne still lingering on him as well as his natural musk. Again, you should feel ashamed. You should feel ashamed for how your pussy trembles, your juices soaked to no salvation. You’re careful to go slowly, your hands going unnoticed when they travel in between your legs to cup yourself. You’ve imagined this plenty of times before from the moment you started these one-on-one tutoring sessions with him. You wondered what it would like to feel him, what his cock felt like inside of you— whether it was in your mouth or your pussy.

You wanted to know how it would feel stretching you out and how good he’d fuck you. Nights where you’d play with your pussy, hoping that Maki was fast asleep and didn’t hear the toy that was trapped in between your legs. You’d conceal your moans that dared to slip out, hips bucking as you were close. You’d picture it was Higuruma— your father’s old friend and now professor— making you feel this good. And when you came, you were too scared to make a move, falling asleep in your own mess and hoping that by the next morning, the stench of your release wasn’t as potent as it was in the moment.

Now that you’re below him and getting mouth-fucked by him, it makes you moan out as you stick your hand underneath your skirt, the fabric riding up and barely covering your ass. Fortunately for the both of you, the door is locked. However, if anyone were to come in right now, they’d see your ass on display with your hands right in between your legs and happily sucking off your professor, a man more than twice your age. It would be a pretty sight to behold, watching your pussy drool so selfishly as you play with your clit as Higuruma face fucks you.

His hand in your hair, a slight pain throbbing in the back of your head as he controls your movements altogether. Your head bobs up and down as you moan like a whore under him. He has to lean against the table every so often to get a hold of himself, seeing you like this makes him feel like he’s young again and can’t withhold himself. He pants and grunts, his chest rising and falling as his eyelids grow heavy. He sees the roll of your hips, finding that your hands have snaked in between to touch your pussy. He won’t stop you. No, instead, he chuckles as he rolls his hips into your mouth. “Fuck, you’re such a dirty little whore. Who am I kidding? You’ll amount to nothing the second I’m done with you. Look at you, touching yourself.”

He says it like it’s a sin, spitting it out with so much venom but inside you, his cock twitches. Resting his weight against the desk, he drags you along with him, making sure you never leave his length. He ignores the way you gag around his length, sputtering out in pain as you whine and mewl before his hips move faster. You have to catch air as quickly as possible with the amount of force he uses.

The sounds of blubbering and wet skin sounding from the two of you echoes inside the office. Your pussy clenches as you grind down into your hand, a finger snaking between your walls as you can slightly bounce against it and wishing that it was Higuruma’s cock instead. Your eyes shut tight as you let the tears seep down and dry onto your skin. Your high-pitched moans reverberating against your chest and to him, his arousal pooling into the back of your throat as he hits at your uvula repetitively. All throughout, your desperation to make it through the years pours out of you, greedily taking what Higuruma gives.

It feels like he’s the only person who’s told you the truth to your face. You’re not smart enough; you have no ambition; you’ll amount to nothing. It all pours into your head, your mother’s words, the feigned feelings from family and family friends as they ultimately agree with her. Someone’s finally said it to your face, and you’re coming to accept it. And through your desperation to prove them wrong, but never Higuruma, you’ll do whatever it takes to have them biting at their own words.

Spit pools from the corner of your lips, trickling down your chin as your head looks up at him with a look of determination set in your eyes. It piques his interest what’s made you snap, but doesn’t question it when he feels your tongue grazing the shaft as you finally put in some more effort. Your tongue tasting that vein than ran down underneath, making Higuruma take in a deep inhale. No longer does he have to force you down his length as you meet his thrusts with eagerness and his grip loosens.

“That’s right,” he breathes. “Fuck, be a proud whore and get me off.”

You feel like, after one hit, you’ve become addicted. Fingers stuffed inside your pussy as you multitask with getting him off as well as yourself. Your chest rises and falls and you can feel yourself so close, getting so close to hitting that brink. However, Higuruma stops you before you could, a set of words that have you wondering if sorcery is real. “Don’t you dare fucking cum. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop right now.”

And just the obedient girl you are, you stop with a whiny mewl. Simultaneously, Higuruma pulls out of you, leaving your mouth empty.

“Let me see your fingers,” but as he says so, he reaches for the hand tucked between your legs and brings it up in the air. Holding your hand by the wrist as he sees how your index and middle finger’s coated in your slick, making them glossy as a string hangs in the air.

“Clean them off,” he demands, shoving your hands in your face and near your lips. “Taste how much of a dirty slut you are.”

He watches as your lips wrap your fingers inside, making you taste yourself as you hum in delight. He lets go of your wrist, a firm grip around the base of his cock before he’s ejaculating. Wet and lubricated all thanks to you, he’s gripping the back of your neck and holding you still, making your head lean back. “Be a good girl and—”

You don’t let him finish, lulling your mouth open and sticking out your tongue. Shit, you’re fucking gorgeous like this, he can’t help but think to himself. Fucking his fist, he can feel himself getting closer. Holding you still with a visceral grip, his cock so close to his mouth, he feels himself twitching as that euphoric feeling returns and makes him feel young again. He spurts his seed inside your mouth, white shooting inside and some splattering on your face. You moan out without shame, opening your mouth wider as he continues to leak himself inside of you. “Fuuuck,” he breathes.

Falling from his high, Higuruma comes to his senses as he looks down at you. You haven’t cleaned yourself up, afraid to move. He bends down to pull up his pants, his cock softening as he makes his way over to his desk. Sitting back in his seat, he doesn’t make eye contact with you. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get yourself all cleaned up and get out of my office. We’ll see each other next Saturday.”

—

Being a private investigator means constantly being at discomfort. Well, that’s what it means for Nanami because as he captures each picture of you and Higuruma in such compromising positions, he grimaces. Hired by Shiu Kong, he’s known well throughout the world of law, but also in the underground where the darkness prowls freely. Ties that follow the Zenin clan, he’s a person who’s gone untouched and will continue on remaining so in this world of dirty politics. With every snap of the camera and in such an uncomfortable position, he’s not sure how to reveal to his boss what his daughter and ex-friend have been doing behind closed doors.

Your father decided to give Higuruma some grace— sort of. He hired Nanami to essentially watch over you, see where you go and watch Higuruma’s movements. He didn’t want the blonde to immediately report to him, to simply gather up all intel on the dark-haired bastard before making a sound decision. Maybe, just maybe, Shiu could trust you in the hands of Higuruma. Never did he expect your hands to be all around Higuruma.

Nanami made sure to select the most appropriate photos of the bunch he has of you and the former colleague, watching his boss open the manila folder and take it in— take it all in. A calm before the storm settling in as Shiu looks through each and every photo before he’s at the last one. Then, when he shuts the folder closed, he throws it across the room, all the photographs flying around haphazardly. “Why didn’t you show me any of this sooner?”

“You gave me strict orders not to, sir,” Nanami reminds him, fixing his spectacles. “You made me make sure of it.”

Shiu pinches the bridge of his nose. “One thing you need to know, there’s always a time where you must break the rules— AND NOW WAS ONE OF THEM!” The seat he was in is thrown backwards, now on the ground as he hovers menacingly over Nanami. He huffs and puffs, face reddening with anger.

“Shit,” he curses, hiding his hands in his face. He feels like he’s at the brink of tears. How stupid. How stupid of him to let his guard down. “What am I going to tell my wife? How am I going to explain to her that this—” he gestures towards the thrown down photos “—has been going on for months?”

He starts pacing around the room, hand tangling in his hair before throwing his head back and muttering, “I’m going to kill him.”

Reaching for his phone, Shiu skims through his contacts until he lands on the familiar name— Fushiguro.

—

Months have passed now as winter break draws near. You’ve just finished your final exam, now able to gain some peace as you walk alongside Nobara as the two of you head towards the courtroom. You roll your neck to stretch your body from hours of sitting and stressing. Nobara moans as she hears the crick of her muscles, “Oh, I’m so glad that that’s over with. I’m exhausted!”

“I just want to eat something, then pass out,” you grumble, hands shoved inside of your hoody as you follow alongside her. At the mention of food, her eyes light up as she spins on her heel, grabbing you by the shoulders. “Speaking of food, you wanna go get hibachi? There’s this restaurant not too far away from campus—”

At that moment, your phone vibrates in your pocket, a message from Higuruma popping on screen, but his caller ID underneath an entirely different name. His message is simple: 7:30 pm. Be there. “I’m sorry, Nobara, but I can’t. Something just came up.”

Nobara frowns, crossing her arms. You’ve been talking to some guy, you’ve admitted it, but you never go into complete detail. All Nobara knows is that once he texts, you’re ready to drop everything to run to him. Within her fair share of relationships, never has she been so compliant towards her man’s every request. “I don’t like this, (Y/N). You’re always dropping everything to see this guy and we never have time to hang out with each other anymore. It’s like, once I get you out of the books, something else steals you away from me.”

You frown, feeling guilty, but you can’t miss this. You always tell yourself that, not wanting to go receive any form of punishment from the older man. “I’m sorry, but—”

“That’s all you can say!” Nobara grows agitated, letting you go and turning her back on you. “Y’know what? Just… Just go.”

And you do, without further hesitation.

You body lies down underneath him so pliant, your body so willing to give and respond to him as your legs are wide open. Though it may be on your body, his pussy is displayed open for his sight only. How your folds glisten like porcelain and how you clench in desperation for him— for his cock to fill it up. Such a pretty and disgusting little thing you are, always coming back to be used how he wants and never objecting to a word he says. Never saying no.

He finds it pathetic. He finds you pathetic.

It’s pathetic how as time comes to pass, whenever you look at him, there’s a sense of need in your eyes. Your mind becomes distorted as you long for him by the second. How your mind has come to jumble up together to form these thoughts inside your head that he’d seek out a relationship further than this. How in the past, you’ve confessed to wanting more and while he tells you how pitiful you are, you always come back. You always come back, seemingly hoping and praying that someday he’ll give you what you want.

However, every time he looks into your eyes, he sees your damn father and he knows he can never give you more. Not just because of the restrictions, but because he doesn’t want to.

When you were waiting inside his house, giving you the spare key so that you could hurry inside and get out of the sight of possible nosey neighbors, you were so patient. Laying on his bed with your body sprawled out naked the moment he stepped through his bedroom door, gracing him with the presence of his living fleshlight that he’s come to use and abuse. He’s still got his clothes on, simply pulling down his pants and underwear for his cock to spring free and explore that tight pussy of yours.

How it always manages to snap back into place, making him have to stretch you out all over again baffles him. By the many times he’s fucked you, he should have it shaped to the exact size and measurements of his cock. He barely preps you, pushing the head of his cock at your entrance and listening to the way you writhe and whine underneath him in pain. Your eyes shutting as you cry like you always do. He grins maniacally as his hand comes to wrap around your neck, holding onto it and forcing your head deeper into the soft cushion of his pillow.

He silences you through the constriction of air, your cries now silent as he bottoms out inside of you. Your mewls cut short as you can no longer breathe, and the sting to your face always comes as a shock. With the steady rock of his hips, your pussy clenches around him and sucks him in tightly as you roll your hips languidly, feeling the oxygen return into your lungs.

Higuruma doesn’t want to admit that you have potential. Potential to be a good lawyer. Doesn’t want any guilt to consume him for how he’s made you feel, so fucks into you until your pussy’s all battered and molded back to accommodate him perfectly. You’ve done better than most of the students on your exams, both midterm and finals. You never needed much help from him, you never did. But while your score sits at the top, he has to remind you of your place. That you’ll always be beneath him.

“You think that a good score will carry you on for the rest of your life?” He leans down to grab your bottom lip with his teeth, biting down on the delicate skin as his grip around your neck tightens. He drills into your tight pussy, knowing that his brutal words always make it flutter. “You’ll get nowhere. You’ll always be eating the scum at the bottom of my shoe.”

He chuckles darkly, it echoing through the room as the wet sound of skin slapping against skin vibrates through the air. The stench of sex wafting through as your mixed arousals seep through. He leans down to your ears, nibbling against the skin. “But I’d bet you’d love that, too.”

He slaps you again, the headboard of his bed, hitting the wall repeatedly as the impact sounds through with everything. “Filthy fuckin’ whore.”

Deep in your mind, somewhere far deep within, it’s telling you— practically begging you— to find your way out. It’s asking you to dig yourself out of the trenches as it’s coming to suffocate you and swallow you whole, but you always push it back. Forcing yourself to accept Higuruma’s cruelty and furthermore, to enjoy it. The joy you felt when your exam grades were announced within a little over twelve hours, that sense of relief and pride that rang through your bones as you couldn’t help but tear up a little. A smile gracing your features as you tell yourself that you did it. And Higuruma’s voice infiltrates your mind shortly after to remind you that it’s because of him.

You mewl out, your breasts bouncing with each thrust of his hips as you make sure to meet him with every one of them. Your back arching off the bed as your nails dig into his dark sheets. Your mouth is open agape, crying out and moaning out his name like a mantra. Your juices coating his cock and escaping the tight crevices every chance it gets, slipping deep into the cracks of your ass as your sweet cunt drools for him.

His breath against your skin as he’s so close to your face, brown eyes watching your face twist and contort with pleasure. “Tell me how much of a whore you are.”

“I’m—I’m such a whore,” you manage to gasp, feeling his hands tighten once more. “S-such a filthy and nasty whore.”

“Yes, you are,” he grins wildly. “A dirty whore whose pussy loves older cock. Willing to get drilled by her professor. So, so nasty.”

“Are you…” you try to get your breathing under control. “Will you make me cum tonight?”

“I don’t know,” Higuruma hums, burying himself into you deeply as he stops all ministrations. “Do you think you deserve to cum tonight?”

“Yes,” you nod meekly. “Yes, I’ve been so good.”

“I decide if you’ve been good or not,” another sound of a slap infiltrating the air as Higuruma returns to the beatings of his cock against your walls. He’s an evil man, finding his fill within you as he’s fucked you of his load already, painting your insides white but deciding it’s not enough. When he feels that you’re close, he’ll stop and let your impending orgasm dissipate within the thin air as you whine and mewl in displeasure and beg him to let you have at least one release. It isn’t until he feels that coil in his stomach that he finally decides to be nice.

“Fine, but you’ve got to cum with me,” he says, capturing your lips with a kiss as he holds onto your neck. He swallows your lips in hunger as you gleefully reciprocate the action, kissing him with so much fervor and passion. It’s sloppy as your pussy pulsates, it screams of your essence as you milk the older man of his.

A milky white ring forming around his base as he continues fucking you, forcing the cum to drip out of your pussy as the drilling of his hips slow its rough and fast pace. Together, the both of you catch your breath as Higuruma finally pulls away. And for some reason, you thought tonight would be different, but when he climbs off of you to sit at the edge of the bed, you realize nothing’s changed as his voice rings out. Always the same thing, “Hurry up and get going. It’s getting late.”

At first, you always believed that it was his small show that he cared. It’s getting late, your delusions made you believe that he said that because the sky was darkening and he didn’t want you getting snatched away by the wonders of night. But every time he said it, he sounded emptier and emptier. There’s no meaning behind his words. So, you get dressed, calling yourself a lift for a few blocks down in the hopes of going undetected, never noticing the dark car that’s parked a few houses back, watching you leave.

Shiu lights himself a cigarette, letting out a big exhale when he opens the door the moment you’re no longer in sight. He hated to have prolonged this, but he had to play it smart. Now that colleges will be closing soon for the holidays, it was the perfect time. You had called a couple days prior, saying that you’d be home in two to three days at most. The last thing Shiu had Nanami do was tap your phone, where he saw all your conversations with Higuruma. The conversations the two of you shared were always short and sweet— just what Shiu needed. While you’re on break, Higuruma won’t message you and you’ll come to believe that he’s busy. It wouldn’t be the first he’d gone days without messaging you. You wouldn’t suspect a thing.

He felt disgust within himself, feeling like a failure of a father for letting this happen. He should’ve checked up on you more, should’ve persisted that you only sought him for help. Hell, he should’ve looked through your schedule the moment you got it, so he could’ve nipped it in the bud from then. A fool he is for putting faith in the school he used to attend. He is a fool for giving Higuruma the benefit of the doubt. However, this regret and pent up anger won’t subside the longer he mopes about it. Now that he knows and now that he’s here, something will finally be done about this.

“You sure you wanna witness this?” Toji asks the man, hopping out of his side as they both approach the house. The lawyer had always stayed on the sidelines, never wanting to get too involved in Toji’s lifestyle. Anyone could be watching and that itself was a liability. Though, with a son himself, Toji can’t say he blames the man. But, would the lawyer truly be able to handle the bloodshed? “It can get pretty nasty.”

“Nah, I need to,” Shiu takes a long drag from the cigarette. He can feel it pulsating inside of him. If Higuruma didn’t die tonight, someone else will. “Promised my wife I would.”

“Haha,” Toji chuckles, remembering the night the two of them met. He feels pride within himself for being such a good wingman. “Yeah.”

“That’s enough talking,” Shiu drops his cigarette, crushing it with the heel of his shoe, walking ahead of Toji. “This bastard needs to die.”

Sneaking in through the patio door, the two men walk in silence. The gun that’ll be used to kill the former lawyer tucked away in the back of Toji’s pants, him reaching out to pull it out of the confines. Shiu glances at the hitman, giving him a stern look. “It better not jam.”

“My baby?” he scoffs. “She’d never.”

Shiu rolls his eyes. “Anything goes wrong and your pay’s depleting.”

“We’ll talk about that if it comes to it.” They spot Higuruma in the bedroom. Clothes still on as he reaches for laptop in the cart. Shiu tuts as he opens the door, “Your clothes are still on? Good. At least you’ll die with some dignity.”

( author's note. ) this fic was so much fun to write, and i can only hope that you guys enjoyed reading it just as much as i had writing it. thank you for taking the time to indulge in this fic, please comment or reblog with your thoughts.

╰┈➤ credits: thank you so much, @hiraethwrote , for beta reading this for me & making sure i didn't publish absolute garbage for everyone to read.

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