#but she acted up so i snapped back with 'sure
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hiii sooo can i req yoonchae x f!reader where katseye goes on their asia tour and while they’re in korea the girls find out that yoonchae has a gf and interrogate reader bc yoonchae is basically their daughter and they wanna make sure she’s in good hands!!
funny cuz yoonchae's literally my gf
"WHO ARE YOU?"
jeong yoonchae x fem!reader
{ synopsis } : while in korea for one their asia promo trip, yoonchae randomly goes out, coming up with random excuses as to why she is. the kats gets suspicious but ultimately concluded it was messing around with friends. until one night, they see her with a random girl in front of a convenience store.
{ tags/extra } : fluff, secret relationship, established relationship, yoonchae is a flirt, reader is korean for the plot, pacing is iffy i apologize
{ a/n } : yall alr know this is sooo rushed cuz i delayed the publishing of this by a lot 😭 plus tumblr didn't save it 😒
now playing : pink by wave to earth
@lararajjj @ohmyhaely @ninguitar
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"SHE'S BEEN ACTING WEIRD LATELY," megan says out of the blue, confusing the members for a moment. manon glances at the television, seeing nothing playing on the screen, then looked around at the rest of the girls.
"who?" she questions. she has an idea of who, but she won't admit it until everybody else brings it up. how is she so confident in this person? well, maybe it's because the person in question isn't even there with them. the youngest has been a bit distant lately, always having excuses about going out early in the morning and not coming back until late at night, sometimes even coming back the next day.
"you know who."
nobody dared to say anything else but it was hard to ignore the elephant in the room. sophia finally spoke first, the perks of being the closest to yoonchae finally being useful. "it's been a long while since she's back in korea. she told me she's hanging out with friends."
"i don't think friends keep each other out for the long," lara lazily voiced her opinion, not sparing any of them a glance as she's busy playing block blast. daniela clicked her tongue before reaching out and turning off lara's phone, which resulted in the younger letting out a loud 'hey!'
"uh, yes, they do. you should know since you're always dragging me to go out." megan rebutted. lara rolled her eyes and turned her phone back on, backing out of the conversation. daniela pondered some more, trying to figure out what to say before deciding to test the waters. she wanted to see how the girls would react to what she has to say.
"what if yoonchae's seeing someone?" she asks.
sophia immediately snapped her head to daniela, a mix of disbelief and annoyance on her face. "if yoonchae says she's out with friends, then she's out with friends. don't jump to conclusions." even so, there's a small part of her that is convinced the youngest might have a partner that neither her or the others know about. "plus, yoonchae never lies."
"right.. okay."
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yoonchae does, in fact, lie. she keeps secrets about a lot of things. like this, for example:
"hi, beautiful," she greets in korean as soon as you opened the door, leaning down to kiss the lips that she missed oh so dearly. "god, i missed seeing this eleven outta ten face."
"stop lying, you didn't miss me that much." as you hit her arm lightly, your scolding demeanor changed into one of giddy highschooler. yoonchae only chuckled before holding your waist to pull you closer, her fingers resting on the small of your back. your hands cradled her face, your thumb grazing the curve of her jaw.
"i'm telling the truth," she confessed. "i'd kill myself if i ever said i didn't miss my gorgeous girl."
"flattery sure gets you anywhere." you rolled your eyes, tiptoeing up to give her cheek a gentle peck. yoonchae swerved her head to the side, just enough to capture your lips in a slow, longing kiss. you swore you felt her fingers practically digging into your hips like she never wants to let go.
"i-" a kiss on your lips, "missed-" a kiss on your forehead, "you-" a kiss on your nose, "so-" a kiss on your left cheek, "much." and finally, a kiss on your right cheek. "like, a lot."
"oh shut up." you fully wrapped your arms around her shoulders to bury your red, flustered face into the crook of her neck. to say you also missed her was an understatement. you longed for the days you two would finally be physically together again instead of on facetime calls that get cut short because she has a busy schedule. and now that it's happening, you just wanna pinch yourself, convinced it's a dream.
after a few moments of comfortable silence that yoonchae let you have to collect your thoughts, she finally spoke up. "snack run?"
"of course."
it takes a while to get to the 7/11 despite it being only a three minute walk from your apartment. yoonchae was just so warm for the cool evening that you didn't want to pull away from the hug. but unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.
~
"pringles or kimbap?" yoonchae asked, holding up the two options in your face. you already know she wants the kimbap, but you also know that there's a small part of her that wants the pringles.
"how about both? you want both of them right?"
"yeah... but–" you cut her off by taking both of the items and putting it into the basket with a proud smile on your face. you didn't give her time to protest, already making your way to the checkout. "y/n.."
"it's no big deal, baby. you can get whatever you want." you handed the cashier the money. "even if it's just snacks." yoonchae subtly pouted and wrapped her arms around your waist from the side, resting her head on your shoulder.
"you're so sweet," she mumbled. "i love you so much."
"mm, i love you more." you thanked the chasier as he handed you the change, stuffing it in your hoodie pocket. well, it wasn't yours, but nobody really cares. you held yoonchae's hand to go to tables outside, but she quickly stopped upon seeing the girls. she let go of your hand while you set some space between you two, making it seem like it was just a friendly snack run. "wait, your hoodie–"
"just keep it," she whispered.
soon enough, they all spotted yoonchae nervously standing next to you. sophia rushed over to yoonchae, asking why she's out so late before looking your way. you turned around and pretended you had no idea who they were. "do you know her?"
"uh, yeah. this is my friend, y/n." she nudged you with her elbow. "say hi to them."
"it's so awkward, yoon... i'm literally your girlfriend."
"yeah, but they don't know that." she gave a smug smile, grabbing your forearm and pulling you closer. "y/n is my really close friend. i've known her since elementary." her hand slipped from your arm and around your waist, squeezing your hips as a way of comforting you in this stressful situation.
"are you trying to make us public?" you jabbed her side, twisting your hand to make it extra painful.
"baby, if i had five seconds to say anything to the whole world, i'd most definitely shout that you're my girlfriend." she winked– which was horribly cute. you clicked your tongue in annoyance, ignoring the blush creeping up to your face. the girls watched the interaction with partially stunned looks. you two looked awfully a lot like a couple and it was concerning.
yoonchae sat you down on one of the chairs and began walking back to the store, claiming she's going to buy more snacks. you rushed to get up and follow her but lara got in front of you, her hands clasped together with a sickeningly sweet smile. "let's talk."
~
"when did you two start dating?" lara was the first to ask after moments of silence at the table. everybody was either too busy staring at you– ahem, sophia –or too busy eating the snacks you and yoonchae bought.
"better question, are you two dating?" sophia intervened. at least she was decent enough to ask. words bubbled in a throat but it refused to escape your mouth, so you only gave a weak nod. sophia nodded as well, more in understanding than anything else. lara and daniela high-fived each other while manon and megan groaned
"so.. can you answer my question then?" lara questioned. "with some background too?"
"we started dating in our second year of middle school," you began. "honestly, we had no idea what we were doing, but, y'know, she was soo in love with me." you chuckled at the last part, remembering how head over heels yoonchae was.
("wait, what's second year of middle school in korea?" megan whispered to manon, in which the older replied, "eighth grade")
"so you're saying yoonchae, possibly one of the most logical people ever, had no idea what she was doing?" sophia raised a seemingly interested eyebrow. before you answered, you took the pringles and kimbap, putting it on your lap for yoonchae to eat when she comes back.
"she was thinking with her heart, if i'm gonna be honest." you nervously laughed, rubbing the back of your neck. "her whole head was empty like her brain took a vacation."
"that has to be so funny," daniela sneered. "imagine yoonchae walking into a pole because she was too busy thinking of how pretty y/n is."
"what if that's why she did that when we were in new york," sophia commented, her stern demeanor finally cracking. yoonchae finally came back after an eternity with two full bags of snacks. she sets down a bag in front of you after giving the girls the other, plopping down on the seat next to you.
"you said you like pepero right?" after a full conversation in english, you were grateful yoonchae was here to switch back to korean. yoonchae rummaged through the bag, quickly finding the box of chocolate sticks and gave it to you.
"mhm. the chocolate one?"
"they just restocked on it."
"y'all are so cute." lara appeared between you both, the smile from earlier back on her face. you audibly gulped when she looked at you, your body sinking into the chair. "say, how much do you love yoonchae?"
"..." you stayed quiet for a minute which made yoonchae a little nervous. though, she has no reason to be. it was evident on how much you love her. "i think i'd go insane if she's more than five minutes away."
"that's such a basic answer." manon teased. sophia was looking at you expectantly. she wants to know if you're good enough for yoonchae (despite the fact you two have been dating possibly three years).
"she's the girl of my dreams. she fell first, but as always, i fell harder. every time i look at her i just get reminded of how lucky i am to have such an amazing girlfriend like her." your hand found its way to yoonchae, intertwining your fingers and pulling it up to your lips, leaving a soft kiss on her knuckles. "i'd choose her over my own life."
through a series of 'aw's and 'how cute', all you were focused on was yoonchae and how her eyes gazed into yours, how her hand squeezed yours just a little tighter. most importantly, how pretty she looked just right underneath a street light. "you're so gorgeous, baby."
yoonchae suddenly stood up from her seat, the action startling everyone. she got down on one knee, and holding a singular pepero in her hand, she said, "i wanna marry you. be mrs. jeong."
"what?!" the girls, including you, all exclaimed in shock.
#hwonnrinji#katseye#yoonchae#jeong yoonchae x reader#jeong yoonchae#yoonchae x reader#kpop imagines#katseye imagines#kpop gg#kpop#kpop fic
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please omg could i request arguing with emo pitfighter vi then her accidentally grabbing reader's boob????
⎯"when you're arguing with vi and she accidentally grabs your boob.”⎯
cw: drabble, fem!reader, funny situation, sfw, emo vi, teasing vi is an idiot, she's cute tho,
the air in the training basement was heavy, echoing with constant punches and the metallic scent of sweat. vi, with her usual bandages wrapped around her torso and fresh scars, was completely immersed in her routine. her black hair, with red streaks, fell messily over her forehead, and her hardened expression left no doubt: she was in a foul mood.
you found her as always, pounding away at a sandbag with a rage that seemed endless. but this time, you didn’t plan on letting her get away with it. after what happened in zaun and the thoughtless things she had said, you needed to have a conversation—even if it meant facing her bad temper.
you approached her, crossing your arms.
—"are you going to keep ignoring me, or are you actually going to act like an adult for once?"
vi didn’t bother turning around, but her frown deepened as she threw another direct punch that nearly burst the bag.
—"i’m not in the mood, alright? go bother someone else."
you let out a dramatic sigh, knowing exactly how to push her buttons.
—"sure, because vi wouldn’t be vi if she weren’t burying her problems under tons of ‘yelling and punching.’ so mature. is that all you know how to do?"
that finally got her attention. vi slowly turned her head toward you, her icy blue eyes sparking with irritation.
—"do you have something to say to me, or did you just come here to piss me off?" —she snapped, her tone dripping with sarcasm and repressed frustration.
you stepped closer, undaunted by her height or her fighter’s stance.
—"i have plenty to say, but you seem to need a manual to understand the basics. like, for example: don’t be an idiot to the people trying to help you."
vi scoffed, raising an eyebrow as she crossed her arms.
—"help me? really?" —she laughed sarcastically, leaning slightly toward you—. "because from here, it looks more like you’re looking for a fight."
—"oh, i’m sorry!" —you said with mock sincerity, throwing up your hands—. "i forgot the only way you process emotions is with your fists. maybe i should bring you a bag to punch instead of asking you to talk like a normal person."
that made her clench her jaw, and vi took a step toward you, clearly losing her patience.
—"look, i didn’t ask you to come here and give me a lecture, alright?"
the confrontation reached its peak when she tried to step closer, lifting her hand in an exaggerated gesture, and accidentally ended up grabbing… well, you know. your right boob.
both of you froze completely. vi, with her eyes wide as saucers and her hand still there, yanked it back as if she’d been electrocuted.
—"for the love of…! shit, i’m sorry! i…!" —she stammered, her cheeks flushing bright red, her expression oscillating between horror and embarrassment—. "it wasn’t on purpose! i swear i wasn’t… looking or anything!"
it was an absolute disaster. you stood there for a moment, processing what had just happened, until you finally burst out laughing. vi looked even more confused, which somehow made it even better.
—"wow, vi!" —you said, wiping a tear of laughter from your cheek—. "if you wanted to grab me, you could’ve just asked, you know? though, for a professional fighter, your coordination is zero."
—"shut up!" —vi groaned, covering her face with her hands, clearly wanting to disappear on the spot—. "it was an accident, damn it!"
—"an accident? really?" —you put your hands on your hips, leaning slightly toward her to tease her more—. "because it felt pretty deliberate. you know, if you need practice, i’m sure there are less awkward ways to go about it."
vi pulled her hands away from her face, her skin still a deep shade of red, and shot you a glare that was clearly meant to be intimidating… but failed miserably.
—"you’re not helping. at all."
—"no, but this is way more fun."
vi let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through her hair as she tried to regain her composure. finally, she huffed and glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, a mix of irritation and resignation on her face.
—"you know what? stay here if you want. but if you keep teasing me, i swear you’re gonna end up with a black eye." —though her tone was defiant, there was a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
you shrugged, smiling back.
—"you don’t scare me, big girl. but maybe you should be scared… because i’m never letting you live this down."
vi let out a frustrated groan and turned back to the bag, muttering something about "annoying people," but you couldn’t help noticing how the blush still hadn’t completely left her cheeks.
#arcane#vi x reader#arcane vi#arcane x reader#vi x you#vi x y/n#sfw#violet arcane#arcane x you#vi arcane#<33#drabble
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Waste a Moment / Part 17
Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her)
Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.
Requested by : @remoony
Word count : 2.8k
Note : This is the second to last chapter :) Enjoy!
Series Masterlist
“All This Living”
Friday.
The mission had started out so promising. You were eager, determined to prove Yelena wrong— that you and Bucky going on the same job was not going to be a disaster.
You’ve gotten better, and you've been on more missions after the artifact retrieval fiasco, but something about this one felt more personal. Maybe because it wasn’t just Yelena— Bucky had also doubted this from the start.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” he’d asked, during the hot chocolate date the night before. His voice had been calm, but there was a flash of panic in his eyes.
“Yes, Bucky,” you had promised, putting your hand on his, “I’m sure.”
And now, crouched beside him in the shadows of the Hydra facility, you couldn’t help but think maybe Yelena was right.
Everything had gone south so fast. You’d been working to disable the cameras when, somehow, you tripped the alarm. Your fingers had hovered over the holographic keypad for just a second too long, but a second was all it took.
“Damn it!” Bucky growled, his voice cutting through the blaring siren as the lights started flashing.
“I can fix it,” you hissed, turning back to the console.
“No, you can’t.” But he grabbed your wrist firmly. “We need to go. Now.”
“Bucky, I—”
“Now,” he snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument. He tugged you down the corridor, his eyes scanning to every shadow, every corner, for signature if hostility.
Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of adrenaline and frustration building with every step. You weren’t helpless. You weren’t some rookie needing hand-holding. But the way he was acting, you might as well have been.
The two of you ducked into a storage room as the sound of boots thundered closer. Bucky leaned against the door. You could feel the tension radiating off him like heat.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, counting the bullets in your rifle. “I didn’t mean to trip the alarm.”
He didn’t look at you. His metal fingers clenched the doorframe, his human hand flexing at his side. “Let’s just get you out of here alive.”
“Don’t patronize me.” You said harsher. You twirled your knife, the golden one you retrieved months ago. “I can handle this.”
His head turned toward you, exasperated. “Can you?”
The words cut deeper than you expected, but you refused to let them sting. “If you don’t trust me, then why the hell did you agree to this mission?”
“I didn’t agree to this,” he sighed. “You just— you wanted this.”
The tension between you was suffocating, but the sound of footsteps outside the door yanked you both back to reality.
“Stay here,” Bucky ordered, his voice cold as steel.
You reached for your gun. “Not a chance.”
“I said stay here,” he snapped, his metal arm blocking your path as he moved toward the door.
“No,” you shot back.
The door rattled, and a split second later, it burst open. Three hostile operatives stormed in, guns raised, but they found two avengers on the other side. He slammed one into the wall with his metal arm while disarming the other with a brutal twist of his wrist. You sliced the third guard’s chest and brought your knee to his head, knocking him out.
The fight was over in seconds, and neither you nor Bucky broke a sweat.
“Stay behind me,” He turned to you, concerned, “please.”
Your fists clenched at your sides. “I’m not a liability, Bucky!”
He didn’t answer, already moving toward the hallway. “We’re leaving. Now.”
You followed him, your blood boiling. The two of you moved through the maze-like corridors, every step laced with unspoken tension. The sirens screamed around you, but the only sound you focused on was the thudding of your boots against the concrete and the pounding of your heart.
The silence— it was too much. You couldn’t take it anymore, it was getting heard for you to breathe. “Why won’t you trust me?”
He stopped so abruptly you nearly ran into him. His shoulders were stiff, his fists clenched at his sides. He turned to face you, and the intensity in his eyes froze you in place. Anger. Fear. Love.
“I just can’t lose you again, okay?” he said, his voice breaking slightly.
The words hit you like a blow to the chest.
“But—” you started, but he shook his head, his jaw tight.
“You don’t get it,” he said, his voice rising now, his frustration spilling over. “You think this is about trust? About my damn ego? It’s not. It’s about the fact that I’ve already watched you get hurt— twice!”
You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. The pain in his voice, his broken vulnerability, left you speechless.
“I can’t let you go through that again,” he said, quieter this time. “I won’t.”
The hallway was silent except for the distant echoes of shouts and the relentless blare of the alarm.
“Bucky, I can’t—I can’t promise I won’t get hurt,” you said finally, your voice shaking. “That’s the risk we both take.”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he turned away, his shoulders tense.
“We need to move,” he said gruffly, already heading down the corridor.
You followed, your chest aching with the weight of his words. You wanted to say something— anything— to fix the growing rift between you, but the danger around you left no room for it.
And as the two of you fought your way out of the facility, every punch, every bullet, every explosion seemed calm compared to the storm raging between you.
—
The Quinjet’s hum filled the silence as you sat beside Bucky, the adrenaline from the fight draining away rapidly. You had put the jet on autopilot while tending to his injury— a small would he caught on his arm.
Bucky winced as you dabbed antiseptic on the gash, the fabric of his shirt now stained slightly red. He hadn’t said much since he got back, only the occasional grunt of discomfort.
How could you put yourself through this? You’d made so much progress, or at least you thought you had. Just yesterday, you were laughing together over mugs of hot chocolate. But today? You were screaming at each other over a stupid tripped alarm.
Had Yelena been right? Was this mission a mistake?
And deeper still, the question that you couldn't shake: Was your relationship always doomed to be this way? Was it destined to fall apart, to spiral into frustration no matter how hard you tried to fix it?
You noticed his teeth clenching, eyes cast down toward the floor of the jet. There was so much left unsaid— so much anger, frustration, so much fear.
"Does this still hurt?” you said as you started wrapping the bandage, your voice swimming with guilt.
"I’m fine," he muttered with a sigh. “Just a scratch."
Your fingers tightened around the gauze. You knew it was more than just a scratch. You knew it was also an unspoken rift between you two.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words coming out before you could stop them. “I fucked up. I didn’t mean to trigger the alarm, to put us in danger.”
His silence only made the ache in your chest grow. You finished wrapping his arm, moving carefully, as if he was made of glass. All you wanted was for things to be… better.
“I didn’t mean for it to go like this,” you continued, looking down at your hands. You could feel your heart racing. “It was going so well. I thought we were finally—"
“Yeah, we were,” Bucky interrupted, his voice gentle. He shifted in his seat, leaning back a bit, his eyes still fixed on you. His posture was rigid, like he was trying to keep himself together. “We were moving forward with… us.”
You blinked, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice. You couldn’t look away from him, your hand still resting on his arm, fingers tight around the bandage.
“I know it’s been hard,” you said quietly, almost to yourself. “I thought it was… I thought going on a mission would move us forward. I thought we were getting there."
Bucky’s gaze flickered to you, and for the first time in a long while, you saw a glimpse of the hurt he’d buried so deep. “We still are,” He insisted, his voice strained. “I just, I can’t… I can’t lose you again.”
Your breath caught in your throat. It was the first time he’d said it outright. The first time he’d acknowledged what had been building between you— the way the tension had been pulling at the fabric of your relationship for months.
Maybe, you were right. Maybe,you just needed this mission to acknowledge all of this.
“I know.” Your voice cracked.
For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of the Quinjet’s engines, a low, steady hum that seemed to vibrate through the floor beneath your feet. You could see him processing, his brow furrowed, gears turning like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.
“I just… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with all this fear anymore,” he finally murmured, his voice strained. “Every time you’re in danger, every time something happens to you, it feels like my heart stops. I don’t know how to protect you from that. I can’t—"
His words broke off. He did my have any idea how to put it into words— fear that had been gnawing at him every time you left for a mission, every time you came back bruised or hurt.
"I can’t keep losing you," he continued, his words barely above a whisper. His eyes closed briefly as if he could shield himself from his own pain.
You reached for him, your fingers brushing over his hand before you intertwined them, gentle but firm. You could feel the warmth of his skin beneath yours, the callouses and scars that spoke of a life well fought for— a life deserved. It felt like holding a piece of his heart.
“You won’t,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? ”
Bucky turned his face toward you, his eyes more vulnerable than you’d ever seen them before. His lips parted, and for a moment, you thought he was going to speak. Instead, he just nodded slowly, his fingers tightening around yours.
For a moment, silence stretched between you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.
You swallowed hard, the words hovering on the tip of your tongue. “Bucky…” You paused, searching his face for any sign of hesitation, for some cue that it was too soon or too much. But all you saw was him—waiting, holding his breath, as he was waiting for you to save him, even when didn’t need saving.
Your heart raced, the words spilling out before you could second-guess them. “I love you.”
It came quietly, but with a certainty you hadn’t felt in months. It wasn’t rehearsed, it wasn’t a grand declaration—it was simply the truth.
Three months ago, you hadn’t been sure you’d ever say it again. You hadn’t been sure he was ready to hear it. But in this moment, it didn’t matter. It felt… right.
Bucky froze, his eyes widening. He blinked, his eyes scanning your expression, like he was trying to figure out if you were being serious.
“I—” He stopped himself, his breath shaky, “You’re not just saying that to make things better, are you?”
“No,” You shook your head slowly, “I mean it.”
A long pause stretched between you. Slowly, Bucky’s eyebrows softened, the tension on his shoulders easing.
“I love you too,” he murmured, his voice quieter than before. “I… I do. More than anything in the world.”
You squeezed his hand tighter, leaning in slightly, as if that physical connection would be enough to bridge the gap between you. “We’ll get through this. We’ll figure it out.”
And in that moment, despite the fear, despite everything that had gone wrong, you felt… right. Maybe it wasn’t all ruined. Maybe, just maybe, the road ahead wouldn’t be as hard as you thought.
—
The cool evening air drifted through your hair as Bucky walked you back to your apartment.
The debrief had surprisingly been calm, echoing each other’s understanding as you told Sam what happened.
Despite everything that went wrong, tonight felt different. It felt… right.
When you reached your door, Bucky stopped a few paces away and turned to face you. There was a hesitation in his eyes, a mix of longing and uncertainty. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but instead, he just gave you a small half-smile.
“Goodnight, doll,” he said softly, his voice wrapping around you like a warm blanket. His eyes lingered on yours for a beat too long before flicking down to your lips. Then, almost reluctantly, they met yours again. It was like he was searching for permission. Or maybe an excuse to stay just a little longer.
You felt your chest tighten— he was looking at you as if you were the only person in the world. You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips, your fingers curling around the edge of the door.
The door creaked softly as you pushed it open an inch, enough to wedge your foot between it and the frame. You glanced up at him, cupping his face. Your fingers trailed down, eventually stopping on his chest. You felt his racing heartbeat underneath your fingertips.
He wasn’t as calm as he seemed.
His gaze dipped to where your hand rested, and you felt the faintest hitch in his breath. He looked as though he was waiting for something— a signal, a moment, a reason to come back tomorrow, or maybe to stay today.
“This is progress, right?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Going on a mission, fucking up, coming back stronger… That counts as progress, right?”
Bucky’s eyes softened, the hallway lighting illuminating the faint lines of worry etched into his forehead, but they faded as he found your smile. Gently, he reached up to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered there and couldn’t quite bring himself to pull away.
“Yes, sweetheart,” he murmured, confirming your hope, “it is.”
You opened the door a little wider, your hand still on his chest.
For a moment, you thought he’d say goodnight again and leave, but instead, he cleared his throat. “This might be the wrong time to ask again, but… can I kiss you?”
He said it so quietly, as if he was afraid of what your answer might be. His eyes searched yours, his brows furrowing just slightly, like he was bracing himself for yet another gentle rejection.
Your heart stuttered in your chest.
Oh god, you’d been waiting for him to ask.
Instead of answering, you leaned in, bridging the space between you. Your lips found his in a fragile kiss, as if you were both testing the waters. The world seemed to melt away, leaving only the warmth of his mouth on yours, to the way his hand came up to cradle your cheek as though you were a precious gemstone.
Three months. It had been three months since you’d felt this kind of comfort from him, and it was almost overwhelming in its familiarity.
And it was definitely worth the wait.
He responded cautiously at first. As the kiss deepened, his grip on you tightened, pulling you closer. Your hands found their way to his chest, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, desperate to keep him as close to you as possible.
When you finally broke apart, breathless, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. The tension you hadn’t even realized you were holding melted away.
“So… I guess that’s a yes,” he teased.
You grinned, leaning in again to capture his lips in another kiss, this one more urgent, more certain. His hands slipped to your waist, as your fingers found the edge of his shirt, slipping beneath it to feel the warmth of his skin.
It was like finding your way home again.
Bucky groaned softly, his hands finding your waist, pulling you even closer if it was even possible. The touches became more heated, more desperate, like you were both trying to make up for lost time, trying to bridge the gap that had formed between you that once felt unfixable.
In between kisses, you managed to pull away just enough to ask, “Do you want to come in?”
He didn’t even hesitate. His lips found yours again, and he nodded into the kiss, his arms wrapping around you. Without breaking the moment, you stepped backward, pulling him inside.
The night was only just beginning, and you had no intention of rushing through it.
-to be continued…
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if you dfw cheating tropes i respect that #fuckrealcheaters 🥺 but cheating on your boyfriend with abby and she's jealous and possessive and pissed off at you for even initiating but OH.. she wants you so bad she's not even pushing you away.. i fear i need it
not a player but i’ll still play w her [drabble, 18+]
warnings: mean! abby, cheating, oral sex (reader and abby receiving), light slapping, degradation, NOT PROOF READ!!!! wc: 1.9k a/n: answering old asks woooooo yahooo! n e ways I went for mean abby I hope everyone is chill with that. me well I'm chilling legs open 4 it
♫ playlist: long way 2 go (cassie)
"What the actual fuck are you doing?"
Abby's words were harsh, cutting through the music with a rough palm on your shoulder, shoving you away under the dim lights of the house party. Her drink sloshed over the edges of the red solo cup, spilling onto her hand. She grimaced, setting the cup down and shaking off her hand as she continued to stare at you in disbelief. When you didn't respond, she raised her eyebrows, scoffing.
"Hey, is anyone in there?" She snapped, growing more irritated. "Or are you just acting like a fucking douche for no reason?"
The truth was, Abby had no idea what had gotten into you, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. One second, you were rambling off about your fuckass boyfriend, about how he was pissing you off for the umpteenth time, but Abby had actually felt a twinge of sympathy this time (alongside her usual annoyance with the topic).
She'd been responsive when your eyes began to water up, pulling you into her arms like any good friend would. Or, at least that's what she told herself.
That's what she told herself when you looked up at her like a kicked puppy, clinging to your best friend like you couldn't stand to breathe air that hadn't been exhaled by her first. You were good. friends. Point blank period.
So why the fuck were you kissing her?
In the blink of an eye, you had closed the gap, slamming your plush lips up and into Abby's, locking your arms around her so tightly that when the taste of alcohol on your lips sent red alarms finally off in her head, she had to forcefully pry your fingers off of her, and Jesus fuck, she was pissed.
It was pretty hard to be this upset, especially when the waterworks really started and people began to stare. Your eyes pooled over, flooding over the rims and down your pink cheeks in a way that made Abby feel like the dick. She had to remind herself that she wasn't in the wrong -- she was mad at you.
She couldn't be mad at you for kissing her. God, she'd spent so long with her fingers in her boxers, toying with her clit to the thought of just running her tongue over your neck that she almost couldn't resist kissing back. But you weren't kissing her to kiss her, you were kissing her because you were mad at your boyfriend, and you were treating her like every straight girl in the fucking house, getting sleezy and expecting her to open up her lab for experiments the second one of you bitches licked the rim of a bottle of vodka.
"What's your problem?" You snapped back. "You've been staring at my tits all night!"
At least that much was true. Abby hadn't able to avoid catching a few glances of your low cut top the whole night, especially when she's leaning over you and playing the part of the dutiful gal pal. Still, she blushed, even though she couldn't deny it.
"You're not like that!" She countered, going right for the throat to dodge your accusations. "You've got a fucking boyfriend, dude."
You scoffed, sniffing and wiping your face. You gestured stupidly around you. "I don't see no fucking boyfriend around here."
"You don't go for girls," Abby said pointedly, knowing that arguing morality with you would be useless at this point, especially since she could almost guarantee your 'boyfriend' was off playing the same card on some chick in a bar.
"I'm going for you."
For you
For you
You
You
I'm going for you, Abby.
The words ring through her head like church bells when you've got your fingers in her hair, grinding down on her freckled nose like your life depends on it.
She hadn't even been able to resist when you'd noticed her pause, soaking in your words. She wasn't nice, per se, calling you a bitch, a cunt, a fucking player and every name in the book while you backed her down the hallway, grunting the insults out between your mashed lips while your painted nails dipped into her boxers.
"Come on, Abs, what are friends for?"
Friends. Skipping rope and braiding hair and playing dolls. Pushing the little buttons to see what noises it makes, toying at your entrance with her tongue to coax little whimpers of her name from your lips. It was basically the same thing.
You were practically floating above her, your thighs shaking around her head in a way that convinced her you hadn't been taken care of nearly this well in a long, long time. Her large palms groped at your ass, pulling you down harder, faster, in a way that would have you worried she would suffocate if you weren't holding on so desperately to the headboard of the random bedroom you two had crawled into.
"Mmpf, fuck, Abby!" You cried out, tits bulging out of that black lacy bra that really wasn't giving pathetic and heartbroken BFF. It was giving slutty, it was giving whorish, and she told you so when she shoved your face down to her cunt some time later.
"You're a fucking slut," she growled, hands wrapping your hair into a handle. You whined from your place between her legs, kneeling on the ground. Abby was mean, angry, she was pissed. "Trying so hard, huh? You've got no idea what you're even doing, sweetheart."
She leaned her head back, letting out an annoyed puff of air as she looked up at the ceiling, then down at your pitiful attempt. God, you were pathetic, on your knees and whoring yourself out just to get back at your shitty ass boyfriend. She felt sour for giving into it, for letting herself be a toy in your cat and mouse game with him, but she also felt some sort of sick satisfaction in knowing she was going to make her mark on you, fuck you until you were too used up to go back to him. Until you could only beg for her to break you in over and over.
"You're lucky I like you, shit — it’s not his fucking dick," she reprimanded, an almost light slap to your cheek stinging your pretty lips into action. She groaned in annoyance, pulling your face away from her. "God, you're fucking dumb. Come here."
With her other hand, Abby pinched your cheeks, and ordered you to poke your tongue out. When you did, she shoved her thumb into your throat, flattening it. You gasped, instinctively going to wrap your lips around the digit.
She was too quick, shoving your face back into her core, your still-pursed lips wrapping around her clit in a way that sent a satisfying buzz through Abby's body. She let out a soft moan, a sadistic smirk spreading on to her face. She lifted her hips up, grinding into your face well beyond when you began desperately gasping between her thighs.
"There you go, there you go," she murmured, hissing out a sharp breath of satisfaction. "Put yourself to some use, huh? If you're gonna learn, you're gonna learn baby."
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Hi! I LOVE your writing!!!!
I have a request for Frank x younger reader, maybe where the reader works as his assistant, but it's temporary—like a substitute for a while. Obviously, there's a connection between them, but Frank, being so professional🫡 wouldn’t act on it because technically, he’s her boss. (IMAGINE ALL THE TENSIONNNNN)
Then, when the reader’s time is up and the regular assistant returns, on her last day, she tells him it’s her final day and that she’s done for the day—so, technically, he’s no longer her boss 👀👀
If you want to write it, feel free! If not, no worries at all!🥰
Title: Office Hours
Summary: After months of unspoken attraction, Frank finds himself caught in a late-night showdown with his secretary, where no rules apply.
Pairing: Frank Benson × Fem! Reader
Warnings: Smut
Author's Notes: Thank you very much for your request. I hope you enjoy it.
Also read on Ao3
Frank sat at his desk, his hazel eyes trained on the papers in front of him, though his mind was entirely elsewhere. You stood at the far end of the room, your fingers deftly sorting through files, your expression focused. The sight of you—the curve of your figure, the way your hair framed your face—was enough to make his chest tighten. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to look away. Two more weeks, he thought, his baritone voice muttering under his breath. Two more bloody weeks.
You glanced up, catching the faint tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers drummed against the desk in a rare show of impatience. “Is something wrong, sir?” you asked, your voice warm and professional, but with a hint of genuine concern that always made him feel seen.
Frank’s head snapped up, his hazel eyes meeting yours. For a moment, he was silent, his hooked nose flaring slightly as he exhaled through it. “No,” he said finally, his tone brusque. “Everything’s fine. Just… a lot to get through today.”
You nodded, offering a small, understanding smile before returning to your work. Frank swallowed hard, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment too long before he forced himself to focus. The sexual tension that crackled in the air between you was impossible to ignore, and it was getting harder for him to maintain the calm, composed demeanor he prided himself on.
The problem wasn’t just your beauty, though that alone was enough to drive him to distraction. It was the way you seemed to anticipate his needs before he even voiced them, the way you moved through the office with a quiet confidence that both impressed and unnerved him. You weren’t just competent—you were exceptional. And that made everything more complicated.
“Lieutenant General?” Your voice cut through his thoughts, soft but insistent.
Frank blinked, realizing you were standing in front of his desk now, holding out a file. He reached for it, his fingers brushing against yours briefly. The contact sent a jolt through him, and he immediately withdrew his hand, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Thank you,” he muttered, his baritone voice quieter than usual.
You hesitated, studying him with a slight tilt of your head. “Are you sure everything’s all right?” you asked, your tone gentle but probing. “You seem… distracted.”
Frank stiffened, his hazel eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned back in his chair. “I’m fine,” he said firmly, though his voice lacked its usual authority. “Just a long week.”
Your lips quirked into a small smile, and for a moment, the tension between you felt almost playful. “Well,” you said lightly, “if there’s anything I can do to help, you just have to ask.”
Frank’s mind immediately went to places it shouldn’t have. He could picture it all too clearly: you leaning over his desk, your hands braced on the edge as he buried his fingers in your hair, pulling you closer. His cock stirred at the thought, and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, clearing his throat. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his tone clipped as he forced himself to look back at the papers in front of him.
But you didn’t leave. Instead, you lingered for just a moment longer, your gaze steady and knowing. “You work too hard, sir,” you said softly, almost teasingly. “You should let yourself relax once in a while.”
Frank’s jaw tightened, his hazel eyes snapping up to meet yours. The way you looked at him—like you knew exactly what he was thinking, like you were daring him to act on it—was maddening. “I’ll take that under advisement,” he said coolly, though his voice held a faint edge.
You smiled, a slow, almost mischievous curve of your lips that sent heat rushing through him. “Good,” you said simply before turning and walking away, your hips swaying slightly with each step.
Frank watched you go, his hands gripping the edge of his desk as he tried to steady himself. Two more weeks, he thought again, his baritone voice muttering low and bitter. God help me, I don’t know if I’ll make it.
The day dragged on, each interaction with you a careful balancing act as Frank struggled to keep his composure. By the time the office emptied out for the evening, he was a mess of frayed nerves and pent-up frustration. He stood by the window, a glass of whiskey in hand, staring out at the city lights as he tried to collect himself.
“Sir?” Your voice startled him, and he turned sharply to see you standing in the doorway, your coat draped over one arm. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you said quickly, though there was a glimmer of amusement in your eyes. “I just wanted to say goodnight.”
Frank set his glass down, his hazel eyes scanning your face, searching for… something. An excuse, perhaps. A reason to keep you here just a little longer. “Goodnight,” he said finally, his voice soft but firm.
You nodded, hesitating for a moment before stepping closer. “Frank,” you said quietly, dropping the formality. The sound of his name on your lips sent a thrill through him, and he tensed, his hooked nose flaring slightly as he inhaled. “You don’t have to keep holding back, you know.”
His eyes widened, the carefully constructed walls he’d built around himself threatening to crumble. “What are you talking about?” he asked, though his voice was rough, betraying him.
You smiled, your gaze steady as you stepped closer still. “I’m saying,” you murmured, your voice low and warm, “that maybe you don’t have to wait two weeks.”
Frank’s breath hitched, his heart pounding as you closed the distance between you. He wanted to stop you, to tell you this was a terrible idea. But when your hand brushed against his, when your eyes locked onto his with that unmistakable heat, he found himself frozen, unable to resist.
“Two weeks,” he muttered, his baritone voice trembling as his control began to slip. “Just two more bloody weeks…”
Your smile widened, and you leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Or maybe just two more minutes.”
Frank turned sharply on his heel, distancing himself from the intoxicating heat of your presence. His jaw tightened as his hazel eyes fixed on the window, the city lights beyond blurring into a kaleidoscope of frustration and longing. His white hair caught the dim glow of the lamp on his desk, and his hooked nose flared slightly as he drew a deep breath, his baritone voice firm yet trembling as he spoke.
“No,” he said, his tone resolute. “This is inappropriate. You’re my subordinate, and I’m your commanding officer. I won’t… I can’t cross that line.”
You stepped closer, your voice soft yet imploring. “Frank,” you murmured, your eyes searching his with a mix of frustration and desire. “We’ve been dancing around this for months. Why keep denying it?”
He turned to face you, his gaze sharp but filled with unspoken longing. “Because,” he said, his voice dropping into that low, commanding register that sent a shiver through you, “I won’t be the man who abuses his position. Amy will be back in two weeks. Two weeks. And then, maybe…”
You exhaled, a mixture of disappointment and resignation washing over you. “And then, maybe?” you asked, your voice tinged with a sadness that made his chest tighten.
Frank clenched his fists at his sides, his hazel eyes darkening as he fought the urge to pull you into his arms. “Then,” he said softly, “I’ll be free to want you. Freely, without question. But not now. Not like this.”
Your shoulders slumped slightly, and you gave a curt nod, the professionalism you’d always carried slipping back into place like armor. “Goodnight, sir,” you said, your voice steady but distant.
As you turned and walked away, Frank’s heart twisted. He wanted to call you back, to tell you to lock the door, to throw propriety to the wind and finally claim what he’d been denying himself for so long. His hand even twitched toward the glass of whiskey, as though it could drown the torrent of desire coursing through him. But he held firm, his military training keeping him rooted in place as the sound of your footsteps faded into the night.
He took another sip of whiskey, the burn doing little to ease the ache in his chest or the throbbing heat elsewhere. His mind betrayed him almost instantly, conjuring images of what he would have done if he’d let himself slip—if he’d grabbed your wrist as you passed, pulling you back into the room, into him.
He imagined the startled gasp you’d let out as his lips crashed against yours, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he pressed you against the wall. His voice, deep and rough with years of restraint finally breaking, would growl your name like a prayer. He pictured the way your body would melt against his, your fingers clutching his shirt as you whispered breathless pleas for more.
Frank’s grip on the glass tightened as his mind wandered further, the fantasies growing more vivid. He could see it so clearly: you kneeling in front of him, your eyes wide and filled with trust as he undid his belt with deliberate slowness, his cock hard and aching, thick and veined, begging for your touch. He would guide you gently at first, his voice low and encouraging as he murmured, “That’s it, love. Take me. All of me.”
He groaned softly, his free hand running through his white hair as he struggled to pull himself back from the edge. He could almost hear the way you’d moan his name, feel the way your lips would wrap around him, warm and willing, pulling him deeper until he couldn’t think straight.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath, his hazel eyes staring at the now-empty glass of whiskey. His hooked nose flared as he exhaled sharply, setting the glass down with more force than necessary. This was madness, he thought. Utter madness.
And yet, as he sat there in the quiet of his office, the scent of your perfume still lingering faintly in the air, Frank couldn’t stop himself from imagining what two weeks might bring—and how much harder it would be to hold himself back when the clock finally ran out.
Frank sat at the head of the conference table, his hazel eyes scanning the room as the officers around him discussed the latest intelligence reports on operations in Afghanistan. His expression was as calm and composed as ever, the weight of his rank and experience evident in every line of his face. But beneath that facade, Frank Benson was seething.
His gaze kept straying to the corner of the room, where you stood with a young soldier, your head tilted slightly as you spoke in hushed tones. Frank didn’t need to hear the words to know they weren’t work-related—the easy smiles, the soft laughter, and the way the soldier leaned just a little too close made that abundantly clear.
You should have been taking notes, cataloging the meeting as you always did with meticulous precision. Instead, you were there, entertaining some wide-eyed boy who clearly didn’t know his place. And it was driving Frank mad.
He clenched his jaw, his hooked nose flaring slightly as he tore his gaze away, trying to focus on the discussion at hand. The officers were speaking of strategic deployments, air support logistics, and humanitarian considerations—things that demanded his full attention. But his mind was elsewhere, filled with the image of you, the sound of your laugh, and the irritating sight of that soldier’s grin.
“Lieutenant General?” one of the officers prompted, drawing Frank’s attention back to the table. “Your thoughts?”
Frank blinked, his hazel eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the question. “Continue,” he said curtly, his baritone voice low and commanding. “I’ll provide my input shortly.”
The officer nodded and resumed speaking, but Frank’s attention had already drifted again. His grip on the edge of the table tightened as he glanced toward you once more. The soldier was leaning in, his lips moving as he whispered something that made you smile. And that was it—the last straw.
Frank pushed back his chair, the legs scraping against the floor as he stood. The room fell silent, all eyes turning to him as he fixed you and the soldier with a glare that could have frozen molten lava. “Miss [Your Last Name],” he barked, his baritone voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “Do you have something to share with the rest of us?”
You froze, your smile fading as you straightened, your eyes darting toward the soldier, who now looked as if he wanted to melt into the floor. “No, sir,” you said quickly, your tone steady despite the flicker of embarrassment in your expression.
“And you,” Frank continued, turning his glare to the soldier. “Is this how you behave in a serious meeting? Whispering and grinning like a schoolboy while your colleagues are discussing operations that involve life and death?”
The soldier stammered, his face turning crimson. “No, sir! I—I apologize, sir.”
Frank stepped closer, his hands clasped behind his back as he loomed over the younger man. “You’re a disgrace to that uniform,” he growled, his hazel eyes cold and unforgiving. “Since you seem to have so much energy to waste on idle chatter, why don’t you go outside and give me fifty push-ups? Now.”
“Yes, sir!” the soldier barked, snapping to attention before practically running out of the room.
Frank’s gaze shifted back to you, and the tension in the air was palpable. “And you,” he said, his tone softer but no less firm. “Your job is to take notes, not to flirt. I expect you to conduct yourself with professionalism at all times. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Good,” Frank said sharply, turning back to the table. “Let’s proceed.”
The meeting resumed, but the tension lingered. Frank kept his expression neutral, his hazel eyes fixed on the reports in front of him. But inside, his thoughts were a storm of frustration, jealousy, and something darker—something he refused to name.
When the meeting finally ended, Frank lingered behind, pretending to organize his papers as the officers filed out. You hesitated by the door, clearly unsure whether to leave or stay. Finally, you stepped closer, your voice hesitant. “Sir, may I speak with you?”
Frank glanced up, his expression unreadable. “Make it quick,” he said curtly.
You closed the door behind you, your hands clasped nervously in front of you as you approached his desk. “I didn’t mean to be unprofessional,” you began, your voice soft but earnest. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”
Frank stood, his white hair catching the light as he rounded the desk to stand in front of you. His hazel eyes bored into yours, his hooked nose flaring slightly as he exhaled. “Do you know what upset me, Miss [Your Last Name]?” he asked, his baritone voice low and dangerous. “It wasn’t the distraction, though that was bad enough. It was the fact that you allowed that boy to think he had even a fraction of your attention.”
You blinked, your breath catching at the intensity in his gaze. “Sir, I—”
“You’re mine,” he interrupted, his voice dropping to a growl as he stepped closer, his hands bracing on the desk behind you, effectively trapping you in place. “Do you understand that? Every smile, every glance, every bloody laugh—it’s mine. Not his.”
Your heart pounded as his words sank in, his hazel eyes blazing with a mix of possessiveness and desire. “Frank,” you whispered, your voice trembling.
“Say it,” he demanded, his voice rough as he leaned in, his hooked nose brushing against your temple. “Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” you breathed, your voice barely audible.
Frank let out a low growl of satisfaction, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Good. Because if I ever catch you entertaining another man like that again, love, I won’t stop at fifty push-ups. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” you murmured, your cheeks flushing as heat coursed through you.
“Good,” Frank said again, his baritone voice softening as his lips trailed down to your neck. “Because you’ve got a lot to make up for, and I intend to make sure you learn your lesson.”
The fire in his eyes left no doubt—this was a punishment you wouldn’t forget.
But Frank straightened abruptly, his hazel eyes hardening as though some invisible wall had slammed down between the two of you. You blinked up at him, confused and breathless, your body still humming from the way his low baritone voice had growled those possessive words just moments before.
But now he was backing away, his hands adjusting his uniform as if nothing had happened. “This is highly inappropriate,” he said, his voice curt, devoid of the heat that had filled it just seconds ago. “I’ve already crossed a line by saying too much.”
You pushed yourself off the desk, your legs trembling slightly as you tried to steady yourself. “Frank,” you said, your voice wavering between frustration and desperation. “You can’t keep doing this.”
His gaze snapped to yours, sharp and unyielding. “Doing what?” he asked, his hooked nose flaring slightly as he gathered the papers he’d left scattered on the desk. “Maintaining my professionalism? Upholding the integrity of my position? Is that what you’re accusing me of?”
Your jaw clenched, and you crossed your arms, staring him down despite the ache in your chest. “No,” you said, your tone sharper now. “I’m accusing you of provoking me, of making me feel things I can’t act on, only to walk away like none of it matters.”
Frank’s hand froze mid-motion, his hazel eyes darkening as he stared at you. For a moment, you thought he might say something, might finally admit what you both knew to be true. But instead, he shook his head, his white hair catching the soft light of the office. “There’s still a week and five days,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “Until Amy returns. Until this…” He gestured vaguely between you. “Is no longer an issue.”
Your heart sank, and you bit your lip to keep from shouting at him. “That’s all this is to you?” you demanded. “An issue?”
Frank exhaled heavily, his shoulders slumping slightly as he looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. “You don’t understand,” he said softly, his baritone voice tinged with regret. “If I lose control now, I won’t be able to stop. And you deserve better than being someone’s mistake.”
You stared at him, your chest tightening as his words hit you like a physical blow. “I’m not a mistake, Frank,” you said, your voice trembling. “And you’re not as composed as you think you are.”
He flinched, the truth in your words cutting through his defenses. But instead of responding, he simply nodded once, gathered the last of his papers, and turned toward the door.
“Goodnight, Miss [Your Last Name],” he said formally, his tone cold and distant as he walked out of the room without another glance.
You stood there, still leaning against the desk, your body burning with unspent desire and simmering frustration. “Damn him,” you muttered under your breath, your hands curling into fists at your sides. “Damn that man.”
You tried to calm the pounding of your heart, but it was no use. Every interaction with Frank felt like a carefully orchestrated game of push and pull, and you were growing tired of always being the one left behind, yearning for something he refused to give.
And yet, as infuriating as he was, you couldn’t stop wanting him. His sharp wit, his commanding presence, the way his hazel eyes softened just enough when he looked at you—it all made you crave him more, even when he left you seething in his wake.
“He can’t keep doing this,” you whispered to yourself, running a hand through your hair as you tried to steady your breathing. But even as you said the words, you knew they were hollow. Because no matter how much Frank provoked you, no matter how many times he pulled away, you couldn’t seem to let him go.
Not yet. Not until you had your moment. And you would have it—if only you could survive the next week and five days without losing your mind.
Frank sat at his desk, his hazel eyes scanning the last document of the day, though his attention was half-hearted at best. The tension that had been building between you over the past few months hung in the air, thick and oppressive, and he could feel it wrapping around him like a vice. Today was your last day as his secretary, and while he’d done his best to maintain his composure, the thought of you leaving left an ache in his chest he couldn’t quite ignore.
You stepped into his office, the soft click of your heels against the polished floor drawing his gaze. You held out the final paper of the day, your expression calm and professional, though your eyes sparkled with something he couldn’t quite place. “Here’s the last one,” you said, your voice steady. “Anything else you need before I go?”
Frank took the paper from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours briefly. He set it down on the desk, glancing up at you with a faint, almost reluctant smile. “No,” he said, his baritone voice low. “You’re excused.”
You nodded, your lips twitching as if you were holding back a smile of your own. “Goodnight, sir,” you said softly, turning toward the door.
Frank exhaled quietly, thinking that was it. The end of months of tension, of longing, of resisting the pull between you. He’d let you walk out of his office, out of his life, and he’d never have to face the maddening temptation you represented again.
But then he heard the soft click of the door locking.
His hazel eyes snapped up, his hooked nose flaring slightly as he saw you turn back toward him. Your expression had shifted, the professionalism gone, replaced by a sly, knowing smile that sent a jolt of heat through his body. You leaned against the edge of his desk, crossing your arms as you looked at him.
“Today’s my last day,” you said simply, your voice steady but laced with a teasing edge. “My shift is over. That means I’m no longer your secretary.”
Frank swallowed hard, his chest tightening as he realized exactly what you were saying. He nodded slowly, his baritone voice calm but tinged with something darker. “No,” he agreed. “You’re not.”
You tilted your head slightly, studying him with a look that made his pulse race. “So, what are you planning to do now, Lieutenant General?” you asked, your voice soft but full of challenge.
Frank stood slowly, his white hair catching the dim light of the office as he straightened his jacket. He took a step toward you, his hazel eyes dark and locked onto yours. “I was planning,” he began, his voice low and deliberate, “to call you tomorrow. To ask you to dinner. To take you somewhere nice, wine and dine you properly. Do everything by the book.”
You raised an eyebrow, your lips curving into a small, wicked smile. “And now?”
Frank stopped in front of you, his gaze unwavering as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face. His touch was deliberate, lingering just long enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Now,” he murmured, his baritone voice dropping to a growl, “I think we can skip all that.”
Your breath caught as he leaned in, his hooked nose brushing against your cheek as his lips hovered just above yours. “You’ve driven me mad for months,” he whispered, his voice rough and filled with restrained desire. “Every smile, every glance, every bloody word out of your mouth—it’s been torture. And now that you’re not mine to protect anymore…”
He let the sentence trail off, his hands moving to grip your waist as he pulled you flush against him. His hazel eyes burned into yours, his control slipping with every passing second. “I don’t have to hold back anymore,” he growled, his lips finally crashing against yours in a kiss that was all-consuming, filled with months of pent-up frustration and longing.
You moaned softly against him, your fingers tangling in his white hair as you returned the kiss with equal fervor. Frank’s hands roamed over your body, his touch firm and commanding as he lifted you onto the desk. His hips pressed against yours, and you could feel the hard evidence of his arousal, thick and insistent, through his trousers.
“God, you’re perfect,” he muttered against your lips, his baritone voice trembling with need. “I’ve waited too long for this.”
He stepped back just long enough to undo his jacket, tossing it aside before pulling you closer again. His hands slid up your thighs, pushing your skirt higher as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Tell me,” he growled, his hooked nose brushing against your collarbone. “Tell me you’ve wanted this as much as I have.”
“Yes,” you gasped, your voice breathless as his hands gripped your hips. “I’ve wanted you, Frank. Always.”
Frank’s hazel eyes darkened as he hovered over you, his hooked nose flaring slightly with every labored breath. His large hands moved with careful precision, one gripping your thigh to keep you steady on the edge of his desk, the other teasing slow circles over your clit. His touch was deliberate, his baritone voice low and thick with desire as he murmured, “Let’s take our time, love. I need you nice and ready for me.”
His eyes darkened at your words, and he let out a low, guttural groan as he began to unbuckle his belt. “Good,” he murmured, his voice rough and commanding. “Because I’m not stopping until I’ve had every inch of you.”
The desk creaked beneath you as Frank claimed you, his touch, his kiss, and the sheer intensity of his presence leaving no doubt in your mind that he’d been waiting for this moment as desperately as you had. And as he pulled you closer, his baritone voice growling your name like a prayer, you knew that this was only the beginning.
Your breath hitched as his fingers pressed against you with just the right amount of pressure, coaxing soft whimpers from your lips. You clung to the straps of his shoulder holster, your fingers curling tightly around the leather as your body trembled beneath him. His white shirt was still tucked into the waistband of his trousers, which were bunched awkwardly around his ankles, held in place by his polished black shoes. The sight of him—partially dressed, utterly commanding, yet entirely undone—was enough to make you clench around nothing.
“Frank,” you gasped, your voice shaky as his fingers worked you expertly. “Please… I need you.”
He chuckled softly, the sound low and rich, his hazel eyes glinting with both amusement and something darker. “You’ll have me,” he promised, his voice a growl as he slid a finger inside you, testing your readiness. “But not until you’re dripping for me. I’ll be damned if I hurt you, love. You’re going to take every inch of me, but you’ll enjoy it.”
You moaned as his finger moved inside you, slow and deliberate, stroking your inner walls with practiced precision. His thumb continued its relentless assault on your clit, the sensation sending shivers through your body as he leaned closer, his hooked nose brushing against your cheek. “That’s it,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “Let me feel you getting wetter for me. I want you soaking by the time I bury myself in you.”
Your nails dug into the leather straps of his holster as your hips bucked against his hand, desperate for more. “I’m ready,” you pleaded, your voice trembling. “Frank, please. I need you inside me.”
He groaned softly, his free hand sliding up your thigh to grip your hip, steadying you. “Patience,” he growled, his baritone voice laced with a mix of command and affection. “You’ll take me when I’m sure you can handle it.”
Frank pulled back slightly, his hazel eyes locking onto yours as he withdrew his finger and brought it to his mouth. He licked it slowly, savoring the taste of you as a low, satisfied hum rumbled in his chest. “Sweet as sin,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. “But I need more.”
Without warning, he dropped to his knees, his trousers straining around his ankles as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider. You gasped as his tongue flicked over your clit, the sensation sharp and electric. His hooked nose brushed against your mound as he buried his face between your legs, his tongue working you with the same calculated precision as his fingers.
“Frank!” you cried out, your hands flying to his hair, tangling in the white strands as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. Your legs trembled, your body arching off the desk as his tongue plunged inside you, stroking you in ways that left you breathless. “Oh, God… I’m going to—”
“Not yet,” he growled against your skin, his voice muffled but no less commanding. He pulled back, his hazel eyes blazing as he straightened, towering over you once more. “I want you to come while I’m inside you, love. While you’re wrapped around my cock, taking all of me.”
You barely had time to catch your breath before he positioned himself at your entrance, his thick cock already leaking with need. He stroked himself once, twice, his baritone voice dropping to a husky whisper as he murmured, “Relax, love. Let me in.”
Slowly, carefully, he pushed inside, his cock stretching you inch by inch. The sheer size of him made you gasp, your body tensing instinctively. Frank stilled, his hands gripping your hips as he whispered soothingly, “Easy, love. I’ve got you. Just breathe.”
You did as he said, your body relaxing as he slid deeper, his cock filling you in a way that was almost overwhelming. He groaned low in his throat, his hazel eyes dark with lust as he watched your face, gauging your every reaction. “So tight,” he muttered, his voice trembling slightly. “Christ, you feel incredible.”
When he was fully seated inside you, he paused, his hooked nose flaring as he struggled to keep himself in check. “Tell me,” he said, his voice rough and low. “Tell me you can take me. Tell me you’re ready for me to move.”
You nodded, your voice a breathless whisper as you clung to his shoulder holster. “I’m ready, Frank. Please… I need you.”
With a growl of satisfaction, he began to move, his hips rolling in slow, deliberate thrusts that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Each movement was measured, controlled, as though he was determined to make you feel every inch of him.
“You’re perfect,” he rasped, his voice breaking as his thrusts grew deeper, harder. “So tight, so wet… taking me so damn well. God, I’ve never—” He cut himself off with a groan, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he lost himself in you.
Your moans filled the room, mingling with the sound of his labored breathing and the soft slap of skin against skin. Your nails dug into his shoulder holster as you clung to him, your body arching with every thrust. “Frank,” you gasped, your voice trembling. “I’m close… I’m so close.”
“Then come for me,” he growled, his hazel eyes locking onto yours as he drove into you with renewed intensity. “Come while I’m inside you, love. Let me feel you.”
And when you finally did, your body trembling and your walls clenching around him, Frank let out a shuddering groan, his own release following moments later. His hips stilled, his cock buried deep inside you as he pressed his forehead against yours, his breath hot and ragged.
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of what had just happened settling over you. But as Frank pulled back slightly, his hazel eyes meeting yours, a slow, satisfied smile spread across his face.
“Worth the wait,” he murmured, his baritone voice soft but filled with warmth. “Every bloody second.”
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Dark, Complex, and Intriguing
Would anyone like some more Lucanis right before the holiday?
The cot creaked as Lucanis settled onto it with a sigh. He loosened his collar, unpinning his crow-head lapel chains, and leaned back to rest against the wall. He could not remember the last time he'd felt so relaxed.
Despite everything, he was alive and free. Treviso might be occupied by the Antaam, but it had not lost its spirit nor its charm. The markets were as vibrant as he remembered, though there were differences. He just couldn't tell if the city had changed, or if the difference lie with him.
Perhaps a little of both.
But Café Pietra had not changed. The atmosphere was impeccable, both intimate and lively, a bastion for coffee enthusiasts like himself. And the Andoral's Breath was just as good as he remembered.
He could have wept at the aroma alone. For a moment there, he almost had. It all hit him at once, in those split seconds before that first sip. He was alive. Treviso was still there. And he was about to drink his favorite coffee, one that mere days ago he had believed he would never taste again.
If he'd been alone, in private, he would have let the relieved tears fall. But Rook was there, quietly sipping her own cup of Andoral's Breath. Lucanis had been flattered that she took his suggestion, and even more pleased that she'd seemed to appreciate the brew almost as much as he did.
And then their conversation had spiraled into strange territory, about first kisses. He stood by his statement, first kisses were like honey and lavender cream. Things were always sweetest when they were new and so full of potential.
But Rook's answer was a good one. Each kiss is different. She'd sounded so sure, and so sure that he understood her meaning. That he shared that experience.
Nothing could be further from the truth. He barely knew anything about first kisses, and he only knew of kisses goodbye from the novels he'd read. Romance just wasn't a part of his life. Mainly because his life had never really been his.
So he'd changed the subject. And when asked about her coffee, she’d described it as dark, complex, and intriguing. Which could describe Andoral's Breath…
His eyes snapped open with realization. “Mierda, I'm an idiot.” Rook hadn't been talking about coffee at all. All that talk about kisses and then she says that?
Was Rook… flirting with him?
No, Spite said. Not possible. Why would Rook. Want. You?
A perfectly legitimate question to which Lucanis had no answer. But, he knew just who to ask.
The next morning, Lucanis went to visit Bellara. When he entered her quarters, Neve was there, the two of them chatting about some new scandal in the Tevinter papers.
“Oh, hey, Lucanis,” Bellara said.
He panicked. Talking to Bellara about this was stressful enough. He couldn't have this conversation in front of Neve, too.
“I'm interrupting,” he said. “I'll come back later.”
The women shared a look he could not interpret, but seemed to come to an understanding.
“I was just leaving,” Neve said, which was obviously a lie. “I'll talk to you later, Bel?”
Bellara smiled. “Sounds good, Neve!”
Lucanis listened to the detective go, and waited for the door to close to look at Bellara.
She frowned. “Is everything okay? You're acting strange. Is Spite acting up again?”
Not me. Not this time.
“No,” Lucanis said. “Spite is fine, for the moment.”
“Oh, well, good!”
Lucanis stood in the center of the room and tried to think of what to say. But everywhere he looked his reflection stared back from too many mirrors and he couldn’t think.
Glinting and golden. Trinkets for the tinkerer, Spite mused.
“Sooooo, what did you want to talk about?” Bellara perched on her workbench, swinging her feet like he and Illario used to do on the rooftops as boys. The familiar motion helped him settle.
“You and Rook are friends, right?”
She nodded. “Oh, sure. I mean, we've been Veil Jumpers together for a couple of years now. Although we didn't see each other much after she left to help Varric.”
“But, you are close? You… understand her?”
“Uh, yeah. I guess.” She laughed. “Lucanis, what is this about?”
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “We went to meet Illario at Cafe Pietra last night—”
“—oh, yeah! She said she had a great time.”
“She…” he blinked at Bellara. “She did?”
Rook talked. About you? Spite bounced between Lucanis and Bellara, curious and agitated. Why?
She nodded, her earring jangling with the motion. “Mm-hm! She said the coffee was super good.”
“Of course it was,” he said. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What else did she say?”
“Um, nothing really. Just that she liked it and it seemed like you had a good time. She said it seemed good for you to go.”
“I did,” he said. “And it was.”
“That's great!” Bellara smiled at him. Then her brow furrowed. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
“Yes,” he said. “and, no.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mierda, I feel so stupid.”
Stupid, Spite sang. Stupid stupid stupid!
“You're not stupid, Lucanis,” Bellara said. “What's going on?”
So, he explained it. His whole conversation with Rook, nearly beat for beat.
“I've thought about this too much,” he said, shaking his head. “I can't believe I thought she was flirting with me.”
Bellara laughed. “Oh, she was definitely flirting with you.”
WHAT?
“What?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Which for her is pretty smooth. I wonder if she was inspired by the coffee or…?” She stopped when she noticed his dumbstruck expression.
“Oh, is it unwanted? I can tell her to stop—”
He put a hand up to interrupt her. “No! No, thank you, Bellara. I can handle it.”
“Okay,” she said. She chewed on her lip, and a little crease in her brow gave him pause.
“What is it?”
“Just, if you're going to turn her down, maybe…” she winced. “Do it gently?”
He raised a brow at her.
“I don't want to get into it, but her last relationship ended pretty badly, so, you know…” Bellara blushed, as if she knew she shouldn't have said anything.
Her last relationship… how many had Rook had? How far behind was he? Not that it mattered, because he was not going to pursue this. He didn't do romance.
Still, he gave Bellara a soft smile. “I'll take that into consideration,” he said. “Thank you, Bellara.”
“Anytime,” she said.
He headed for the door, but paused as Bellara called after him.
“And, Lucanis?”
“Hmm?”
“Maybe try to get some sleep?”
He nodded. “Maybe,” he said, then stepped back out into the courtyard.
Back in his room, Lucanis lay on his cot and tried not to think. Bellara was right. The lack of sleep had left him frayed, which made him more likely to overthink and analyze every interaction.
Rook had flirted with him, and he'd been utterly clueless in the moment. Were there other times she'd said something he'd misunderstood? How oblivious was he?
But the biggest question he kept repeating was, so what?
Rook flirted with him. So what? She seemed kind and like she genuinely cared about his well-being. So what? She rescued him from the Ossuary. So what? She wasn't afraid of Spite. So what?
Did any of that actually matter? Lucanis wasn't even sure he wanted her affections. He had so much else to think about— Treviso, Caterina’s funeral, his vengeance against Zara, and, of course, Spite. And, he couldn't forget this contract. He had gods in need of killing.
It was too much. There wasn't room in his head to discern if he even liked Rook, let alone what to do if he did. And he was so, so tired.
Luckily, a year in the Ossuary had made Lucanis good at shutting down his thoughts and feelings. He just needed to breathe and be still. Spite, however, was less skilled.
The demon prowled the pantry, muttering just loud enough he was sure Lucanis wouldn't be able to ignore him.
Rook. Likes. You? He spat. Why? Rook is smart. Nice. Fun. Spite glared at Lucanis. Not like youuuu.
There was a pause as Spite waited for Lucanis to reply, but he said nothing. He didn't even look at the demon. He was trying to sleep.
Yesssssss. Sleep! Then I find Rook! Spite's grin always looked threatening, but this one was a little too unhinged. Ask what she sees in YOU.
Lucanis ignored the way his chest tightened at the thought of Spite controlling his body while he and Rook were alone. He could not let that happen.
“She's not here,” he said. “She left with Harding early this morning.”
Spite growled in frustration. We. Want. OUT!
This argument again. Until he found some way to separate them, he didn't think Spite could get anymore “out”. This was as good as the demon would get.
No. No no no. We. Made. A. DEAL.
With a sigh, Lucanis sat up and rested his head against the wall. “We'll go to Treviso later,” he said. “I need more spices anyway.”
Spite growled, but it was a low sound, one of resignation. Fine.
Lucanis smiled. A lifetime with Illario had prepared him well for dealing with this demon. When they threw fits for not getting what they wanted, you gave them something else they wanted. Something smaller, easier to manage.
Spite liked the markets almost as much as Lucanis did. It was a simple thing to offer a visit, something that would be pleasant for them both.
With the demon settled, a fresh wave of exhaustion washed over Lucanis, and he fell asleep there, propped against the wall.
In the dining hall, the door opened, the groan of its hinges pulling Lucanis from his sleep. He checked the candles, but they still burned high and bright. He hadn't slept long.
Footsteps drew closer, the muffled slap of bare feet on the stone floor. So, Rook was back.
He ignored the pleasant churn in his stomach. She wasn't coming to see him, she was probably just hungry.
But then his door opened and she peered inside. “Hey Lucanis,” she said. “ Got a minute?” Her face was bright from exertion, or perhaps too much sun reflected off water. Of course she and Harding would spend the morning outdoors. They were both too pale for so much unfiltered daylight. It made the freckles scattered across the bridge of Rook’s nose look like sprinkles of cinnamon on latte foam.
His stomach did another traitorous flip.
“Of course,” he said.
She smiled, ducked out of the room, then reappeared with a silver and purple tea set. “Um,” she said. “I, uh, got this. For you.”
He stared for a moment, eyes wide and mouth agape. “For me?”
She smiled. “Yeah. I know it's meant for tea, but I figured you could use it for coffee.” She shrugged. “You know, so you can keep it close?”
He took it from her and set it on the side table nearest his cot. First the wyvern-tooth dagger, and now this? If he'd had any doubts about her interest, they were gone now.
“Thank you, Rook,” he said. “That's very thoughtful.” Lucanis was genuinely touched by the gesture. It was a lovely set, one he recalled seeing in the market the night before. Had she gone back for it today?
“I'm glad you like it,” she said, her smile widening. This close, in the candlelight, Lucanis noticed the violet tinge to her blue-grey eyes. The color reminded him of the innermost petals of the crystal grace in Villa Dellamorte's gardens. Delicate and pale, and so soft to the touch.
“Well,” she said, breaking the silence. “I'll, uh, see you at dinner?”
Lucanis cleared his throat and looked back at the tea set. “Of course. I'll see you then.”
He didn't look at her as she left the room. He didn't want her to see the confusion he felt reflected in his eyes.
Trouble, Spite said.
And for once, he and Lucanis agreed. Because, as rare as it was for him, Lucanis couldn't deny the way his stomach flipped when he thought of her. Or how flustered he felt when they stood too close. How the air warmed when she walked in the room and how easy she made it to smile.
He groaned and rubbed his face with both hands. Maker help him, he was falling for Rook.
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I took a break from the more serious piece with the throne and all to draw this quicker, silly thing because they have started airing Hallmark movies on TV and I was possessed by the Christmas Spirit :')
There's also a short lil drabble thingy underneath the 'Keep Reading', bcs I couldn't help myself 😭😭 If Tracy won't let her characters have some Silly Time™, I WILL. 😭😭😭
The snowball soars through the air in a high arch, and lands with a wet, satisfying "fwump".
Loud cheers and "woo"s chorus from the other team, and it takes everything in me to hold back my own laughter at the sight. Nick seems to fight just as hard to do the same.
"...Aaand Miss Chen hits the bullseye! Another point for team...what was your name, again?" Valec calls from the sidelines with his, by now, classic announcer-voice, acting judge for today's match.
Classic, because this is the third snowball fight we've had since the snow first fell, and our team has been losing every single one so far. Sel has been too busy dodging the snowballs to realize that he has been our opponents' only target, despite there being three people on our team.
Alice turns to Valec with a wide grin and high-fives William. Lark is doubled over behind them, laughing.
"Team Victory," She reminds him gleefully, and Valec nods with a snap of his fingers. More so to jab another thumb into Sel's side than actually needing the reminder.
Mariah sits at his side, trying to hide her own snicker behind a steaming cup of hot cocoa. She caught onto our pact halfway through the first game, and is now just as eager as the rest of us to see how long it takes the Kingsmage to notice.
"One more point to team Victory! Making the current score.... 5-2, their favor."
Sel tries to wipe the already melting snow off his cheek before it runs down under the collar of his coat. With a wet flick of his gloved hand, he uncovers the scowl underneath.
"What kind of defense are you two supposed to be if you are not defending the whole team?"
"I thought you were behind me, I swear," I say, but can't seem to disguise my lie well enough, because Sel's mouth curves further downwards even before I finish. "You know, behind the shield."
"What's the matter, Kingsmage? Lost yer spark?" Lark taunts from where he now stands straighter, only barely holding it together.
Sel spins around to face the other Merlin with a sneer before shaking more snow out of his hair. "Douglas, you better sleep with one eye open unless you like your dreams of 'White Christmases' very vivid," He growls, and the scheming smirk across his lips makes me certain that the threat of taking the snowball fight off-court and into Larkin's bedroom is a very real one.
He barks out a sarcastic laugh in return, but can't quite seem to keep the amused glint out of his eye, "I sure would like to see ye get 'merry and bright', Kane."
With another flick of Sel's wrist, aether flows to his hands as if he were to craft his usual staff, but instead forms something resembling a lacrosse racket, solid like a shovel. He twirls it in his hand once before bending down to scoop up fresh snow, muttering, more to himself than to the other Merlin;
"Oh, I'll show you 'merry and bright', you-"
"Would you look at that!" William cuts in, making all our heads turn to him.
He looks up at the sky, shielding his eyes from the sun, before taking a step back towards the wall of snow shielding us from Volition.
"Oh, shit!"
Nick understands faster than I do, and casts a new aether shield and grabs my arm in one swift movement. He pulls me along, laughing all the while. "Get down!"
Sel is frozen in place, shovel-racket still mid-scoop, and completely alone on our side of the battlefield. He doesn't bother looking at either of us, but his narrowed eyes and shift in his jaw makes the betrayal apparent.
William reaches out a hand to the wall and shoves it right into the snow. With no visible effort, he lifts up a chunk nearly as big as himself, easily balancing it in one hand. He slowly turns to the Kingsmage with a smirk, promise of perfect aim in his eyes and voice both;
"Midday, is it not?"
#legendborn#legendborn fanart#legendborn fanfiction#i got The Most ominous email from my boss yesterday and need any and every distraction I can get lol so yes this is a lil rushed#but hey this was good pose and proportions/perspective training sjfsjs#and also a good way to try out how the quality is exported from Infinite Painter (which is pretty 1:1 which is great for me lol)#and also Tracy's post about “writing over 650 pages of character turmoil and swoony plot” did NOT make me feel any calmer ;u;#oathbound may kill me at this point LOL#AND LIKE DO WE EVEN KNOW HOW LONG IT MIGHT TAKE BEFORE BOOK 4???#like I said#If Tracy won't give her characters some downtime to be silly and have a Good Time I guess we'll have to do it ourselves :')))#also note the lil heart atop Sel's hair lol <333#will never let him be fully “daRk AnD dAnGerOuS” on my watch lol uwu#never escaping the “just a lil guy <33” allegations jfhdjhfjdf#my art
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Dream come True?
A/N: ughhh i love this one, very silly and sweet Billie, direct continuation of the first part- psst go read that first to understand the story! anyways enjoy babes 😘
NOT proof read, may have some weird sentences here and there and untrue information!!
warnings: none
word count: 1.5k
summary: Billie makes you sorta 100% jello during her show
“Wait, wait, what happened? Did you get the tickets?!” Amber’s voice was high-pitched with excitement as soon as she answered, cutting through the panic-stricken rush of words spilling out of your mouth.
“Amber, you won’t believe me, but-” you paused, heart still hammering in your chest, trying to make sense of the unreal situation that had just unfolded in front of you, “Billie Eilish... was just in my mom’s bakery. Like, she was right there, sitting down, talking to me…”
“Wait, hold on,” Amber cut in, her tone now serious with disbelief, “Did you just say Billie Eilish was in your bakery?”
“Yes!” You could barely contain the excitement in your voice, your hands shaking as you paced around the empty bakery. "I was just making croissants, and she walks in like it's no big deal, like she's just another person. I didn’t even recognize her at first, and then I thought, ‘No way,’ but—then it was really her!”
Amber let out a loud gasp on the other end of the phone. “Wait, did you talk to her?! Did she get pastries?”
“Yeah, I told her the pastries weren’t ready yet, and she sat down and... we talked. And then—get this—she offered me tickets to her show. Like, VIP tickets. She said she'd get me up front. And I almost said no!” You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it now. “I was going to turn her down because I thought it was too much, but then I just—she was serious. She’s so... chill. And then she left, and I didn't even get a picture or anything—”
“Oh my god, wait.” Amber’s voice was a mix of awe and jealousy. “Are you telling me that you almost didn’t take the tickets? What’s wrong with you, are you trying to lose your mind?! You know how rare that is, right? Billie Eilish just offered you VIP tickets, front row, probably on the house, and you didn’t snap a picture?! I would’ve died, Y/N! DIED! You could've been in the same room with her! You could've had an actual conversation and—”
“I was in shock!” you shot back, pacing faster now, trying to organize your thoughts. “I didn’t even know what to say to her! It was Billie Eilish, Amber. She’s a literal goddess. And I was standing there like an idiot with flour all over my hands, trying to act normal.”
Amber was quiet for a second, clearly processing what you had just told her. Then she sighed, her voice much softer now. “Okay, well, it sounds like you really had a moment, Y/N. I mean, she must’ve liked you if she’s offering you that kind of access. I think she saw how genuine you were. That’s not something everyone gets to experience.”
You paused, leaning against the counter, letting Amber’s words sink in. She was right. Billie didn’t have to do that. She could’ve easily gone to any other bakery, or at least pretended to be too busy or too famous to care. But she didn’t. She was real. And she seemed to see you as just another person in the crowd, not a screaming fan who would lose their mind over the chance to meet her.
“I think... I think I'm still in shock,” you muttered.
“Well, you should be!” Amber laughed. “But seriously, Y/N, you have to go now. You can’t just let that opportunity slip away.”
“Of course I’m going,” you replied quickly. “I mean... how could I not?”
“And when you meet her again,” Amber said, almost with a warning tone, “You better have a good outfit. You cannot look like you just rolled out of bed again.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll figure it out,” you said, already thinking about what you’d wear. “I can't believe this is real. She... she liked my bakery, Amber. She said she might come back. What if she actually does?”
“Then you're gonna need to be ready,” Amber said with a laugh. “Just make sure you don’t fall apart when you see her again, okay?”
“I won’t, I won’t. I swear,” you muttered, your heart still racing, but now it was a different kind of racing. A kind of exhilaration that only came from knowing you had just crossed paths with someone you'd only ever dreamed of meeting.
“And for the record,” Amber added with a smirk in her voice, “You have to tell me everything—EVERYTHING—that happens at the show. Don’t leave a single detail out.”
“I won’t,” you promised, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling inside you. “This is going to be insane.”
---
The day of the concert finally arrived, and you could hardly focus at work. It had been a blur of checking the time and watching the clock tick closer and closer to the moment when you’d finally be standing in front of Billie Eilish, at one of her sold-out shows, no longer just a fan on the outside, but someone she had actually invited.
When the time came, you found yourself standing at the entrance of the venue, security scanning your pass with an eyebrow raised at the VIP badge that had your name on it. They nodded you through without question. Your heart thumped against your ribcage as you walked through the corridors, past all the other fans who were waiting for the doors to open, and you found yourself at the front, where the stage was. And there, standing beside it—was Billie. She was chatting with the crew, her black hair falling in soft waves around her face, dressed in the kind of casual outfit that still made her look like she had stepped out of a magazine.
Your breath caught in your throat as she spotted you, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
“Y/N you came!” she smiled as she walked up to you and pulled you in for a warm hug, many your breath hitch involuntarily.
You stood there for a moment, frozen in shock, as Billie Eilish—your idol, the very person who had left you speechless in your mom’s bakery wrapped her arms around you.
Her embrace was warm, genuine, as if she hadn't just turned the world upside down by offering you VIP tickets. She smelled faintly of something sweet but rich, like coffee and vanilla, and for a second, you couldn't believe this was real.
“I—uh—yeah!” you stammered, trying to play it cool but knowing you were failing miserably. “I, uh, can’t believe this is actually happening.”
Billie laughed, a low, melodic sound that made your heart skip. “I can’t believe you almost didn’t take the tickets. You’re fucking crazy. But I’m glad you did. It’s good to see you again.”
You felt like you were on another planet, standing beside her, watching her move so effortlessly between the fans and the crew like she wasn’t a global superstar. “I—um—wow, you look amazing,” you managed to say, the words almost tripping over themselves in your mind before they came out.
Billie was in a dark blue jersey with the number “80” in big bold letters on the front- she had her iconic glasses on and her baggy shorts as usual- but fuck it didn't make it any less hot to see it in person.
Billie gave you a playful wink. “You too, though. You’ve got that whole ‘I like concerts a little too much’ vibe going for you. I dig it.”
The compliment made your face flush, looking down at your own merch, your cheeks naturally coming more red as you met Billie’s pale blue eyes. “Thanks. I, uh… I didn’t really have money to buy any new merch so, I got some of my old stuff,” you said, motioning to your outfit, her “Happier than ever” album image plastered on the black shirt and ripped jeans mixed with a few rings and your dangling star earrings. You’d hoped it looked casually stylish enough, but compared to the crowd around you, you felt like an awkward fish out of water.
“You look great,” Billie reassured you.
You tried to ignore the heat buzzing in your chest as she turned and ran away, probably having to get ready for the show, and you didn't mind, you were finally able to feel what it was like to be at a real, huge concert. As the lights dimmed the arena erupted with cheers as Billie popped up on stage, people were screaming in your ears the whole time but you didn't care, all you could do was watch Billie as she danced across the stage without a care in the damn world.
The show went on for a while before the song Billie had been featured on, starting playing- one of your favorites… Guess.
Billie jumped out onto the stage again, the song playing as she sang, everything felt absolutely perfect, the lights, the bass of the arena that made you feel your damn insides moving, everything.
Then? Billie looked straight at you, smiling slyly as she sung the best part of the song-
I wanna
Try it, bite it, lick it, spit it
pull it to the side and get all up in it
kiss it, bite it, can i fit it?
Charli likes boys but she knows I'd hit it.
god damn, you would've combusted right then and there when she added on that little
Charli call me if your with it
mouthing your name instead of Charli’s when singing the line.
god damnit.
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body failed to physically calibrate this morning so instead of being normal I keep being unspeakably bitchy with customers
#some lady acted a little entitled demanding i change a price and like. i was gonna do it anyway.#but she acted up so i snapped back with 'sure#im the one who codes the computers'#my common sense keeps rushing in to clean up#full on had to go 'im not being sarcastic i just dont know our deals. sorry'#im about ready to drop kick our manager and every customer in the building#anyway#muffinrag blabs
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i'm actually still not quite over the fact that oveta and korahi's stories continuously overlap until they finally cross paths in that market. that they don't even say anything to each other, they just smile from their different stalls. oveta rolls her eyes bc kova is being ridiculous and korahi bites her lip so she doesn't laugh and it's so simple, so peaceful, so fucking mundane. they have no idea who the they are to each other. oveta, the girl who killed the queen that destroyed korahi's people, her family. proof that someone tried to fight for them. korahi, the very creature that oveta was almost executed for defending, the push that became a shove to build her own kingdom and write her own laws. proof that nakia failed. but for just that moment, that blip of time, they were just two girls sharing a silent joke, and everything was okay.
#if i think about the splintering too long i start turning into a soup#if i've written a post like this before i dont even care!!! they make me insane!!!#and look i know oveta's whole thing is that she's trying to win back the gods favour; that she didn't act until after the punishment landed#but she was 8 or 9 when the killing started. there wasn't much she COULD do at the time when action was the most crucial#she'd just lost her friend (ariad) and didn't 100% understand what was going on and by the time she did it was too late#and suddenly SHE'S being punished by the gods?? she's lost a core part of herself due to the selfishness of her elders??#so of course that's what makes her snap but still she; even at 14; was the only one with the spine to stand up and say it was fucked up#she killed nakia so she could become queen and re-write their traditions. make sure something like that never happened again#actually fun fact: despite their status of 'extinct' dragons are a protected species in miednic (rip mattie if only you knew)#because oveta REFUSED to let it happen again - and even if it was soley in the name of keeping vietua's affection#it still makes her the only person who fought /for/ the dragons and their lives#and the fact that she is Right There next to Korahi; the Last Dragon. and neither of them know.#the splintering#nh: the splintering#oveta#korahi
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.
#the heat index is 101F and our ac has been broken for the past three weeks at work#I worked an 8 hour shift I’m exhuasted + I’m sure I have heat exhaustion (again 🙃)#and like my cheap asshole father comes to pick me up with no ac on in the car 🫠#he argues all the goddamn time that the ac uses up so much gas and that wastes money and okay whatever that’s stupid#like do you want me to just fucking pass out in the passenger seat?#and he’s mad at me cause I may have snapped#but like again 101F outside no ac at work and I’ve had heat exhaustion every day for the past three fucking weeks#it’s literally a two minute drive home#but yeah I’m not worth two mins of ac#he has been extra nasty and having extra attitude and I’m fucking done#when I’m home I literally don’t leave my room anymore#dad’s also treating mom like shit which is like#I have issues with her too but idk what his fucking problem is anymore#and then she makes her problems everyone’s problems#so they’re acting like I need to fix how they treat each other#they should’ve got fucking divorced years ago#I keep telling them to go to fucking marriage counseling or something but nope#the thing is despite being shitty they are both still my parents and it is hard to hear them talk about each other that way#hence why I’m like begging them to either divorce or get counseling#but nah then they just turn it back on me and I’m terrible cause I don’t want to help them work through their problems 🫠#sometimes I think they literally had a kid so they could just blame everything wrong with them/their lives on me#I leave for vacation in like a week-ish and oh boy I cannot tell you how relieved I am to be getting away from them for a bit#I’m sure it’ll be a shit show when I get back but that’s a problem for later me#I just need a fucking break from the shit I put up with at work and the shit I put up with at home
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DPxDC Summoning Failed Successfully
Imagine a warehouse. Imagine a bunch of cultists in dark robes with all the candles, daggers, ancient books, and chanting. Now add Danny.
Only not as the summoned being, no. As a sacrifice.
He is sitting down, tied to a chair, in the middle of the summoning circle, looking as bored and deadpan as he can possibly be. The cultists are chanting, and he frowns, listening to their chants for a moment.
"Hey, is that Latin?" He questions, but to no avail, "You know you're not actually using those words correctly, right?"
"Keep quiet, child!" One of the cultists snaps. Danny leans back in his chair and shrugs.
"I'm just saying, you ain't summoning shit with wrong grammar," he huffs, seemingly absolutely nonchalant about the whole thing. Oracle, who is watching the whole ordeal through the surveillance cameras, raises her eyebrows. Red Robin and Robin are already en route to the building the cultists chose for their extracurricular activities, but now she almost wants to watch this a bit longer.
Gothamites are pretty used to all kinds of shitshows, but this boy is from out of town. She checked him through facial recognition. Daniel Fenton, a transfer student from Amity Park, Illinois.
A few more cultists stop chanting and turn to Danny.
"Do you know Latin?" One of them asks, and the boy makes a half-nod, making a thoughtful face.
"Not fluently, but, like, it's a dead language, I felt kinda obligated to learn it. Just for the meme, you know?" He chuckles.
The cultists, judging by their confused silence, don't know. Barbara doesn't know what he's talking about, either. But she is almost curious now, so she taps Robin's and RR's comm lines:
"RR, Robin, when you arrive, don't jump into the scene," she asks.
"Understood," Tim answers immediately, but Damian, of course, demands explanations:
"Is there an obstacle?"
"Not really," Barbara humms, "The sacrifice is in the process of de-escalating the situation."
She can almost hear the questioning silence over the comm, but, thankfully, no one argues. Meanwhile, one of the cultists pipes up, voice full of doubt:
"So, you can... like, proofread our incantation?"
"Yeah, sure," Danny nods, apparently fine with being sacrificed, "Who you're trying to summon anyway?"
"Satan," that same cultist answers, and Danny laughs approvingly.
"Classic," he nods and smiles, "I'll give you this. The circle is mostly alright, so you don't need an incantation to summon the fucker, I have him on speed dial." And with that, he leans forward, screaming towards the floor: "Ey, Satan!"
Barbara must say the act was actually convincing, but he went a little overboard with it now. She reaches to tell both Robins to get in, but suddenly, a loud, booming voice reverberates through the building.
"The fuck do you want, kid?"
Cultists fall to their knees - it doesn't seem like an act of worship, more like their knees bucking. The whole circle dimly lights up in red, smoke raising from it.
"Do you see this shit, Oracle?" Red Robin questions, and she mhm's at him, not sure what else to say. If this is still an act or a trick, she must say it's a very good one. Although somehow she suspects it's not a trick. She's seen enough magic in her life to tell the difference.
"Do you want to come to Earth, be gay and do crimes?" Danny asks, almost mockingly.
"Fuck off."
The red light flickers and disappears, and Danny looks back up to cultists, grinning cheerfully.
"Welp, looks like he doesn't wanna," the kid concludes and stands up from his chair. Barbara hadn't seen when or how he got out of his bindings.
The cultists just watch him walk out of the circle in bewilderment.
"Pursue?" Robin's voice comes over the comms, and Barbara thinks for a moment.
"I get a feeling like that's a bad idea," Tim mutters over his line.
Barbara agrees.
#danny phantom#oracle#dc x dp#dpxdc#batfam#tim drake#damian wayne#red robin#robin#barbara gordon#i dunno its probably already been written more times than i can think of#i just enjoy the 'he doesnt wanna' bit#summoning#cork prompts#cork writes
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I NEED waitress!reader accidentally letting it slip that she’s got a date after her shift and so when bartender!simon overhears, he suddenly has a list of things she needs to do after work, causing her get to stay late ))): missing her date ))):
ANGST TIME
He's been watching you like a hawk for the past two hours - and rightfully so. You've been rushing through your tasks, rolling more than enough silverware, keeping your tables happy and stocked - you somehow managed to convince Soap to mop front of house for you. He doesn't like it. Why are you trying to get away?
"Got a date tonight." You tell him, skimming through your receipts as you sit at the bar and calculate your tips. You're not off the clock yet - you still have thirty minutes left. But the restaurant's empty, and all your tasks are done. Your makeup is a little nicer today, softer and less "morning after a deftones concert".
Simon's thankful for the mask, or else his frown would be impossible to miss. Is he dumb? Haven't you been flirting with him all week? Was this another one of your games, pretending to act innocent and coy, messing with him, then announcing you're going out with someone else?!
He feels his shoulders tensing as he watches you tap away at your phone's calculator. He shouldn't be so bothered by this - some things just need to be let go. But he can't. He wants to keep you in his back pocket, or in an empty whiskey bottle on his liquor shelf - not the one behind the bar, but the personal collection in his room on the third floor.
"That's nice," he grumbles, slicing through a lime. "Jus' make sure you finish your chores 'fore you head out."
"Already did!" You chirp at him with a smile. "Just need to do my tips, and I'll be done."
"Did ya clean the ice bins?" He asks.
You furrow your brow. "Huh?"
He jerks his head to the whiteboard on the wine fridge - sure enough, your name is scribbled in, right next to "drain and wash/sanitize ice bins + buckets", along with today's date.
You look back at Simon, your expression now crestfallen. Your date is in an hour, and you still have twenty minutes on your shift. "Don't you usually do it?"
Truthfully, he does. He could do it today, in fact. But his brain is acting on thoughts before he has the chance to consider the consequences. "Can't today, luv. Preppin' for a bigger crowd tomorrow."
Your shoulders slump. "How long does it take?"
"Well, you got to turn 'em off - one by one, I can't have two empty ice bins durin' a shift - then ya dump the ice, wait for 'em to warm up, then ya go in there with soap n' a rag, rinse 'em out, then-"
"God, can this please wait until tomorrow? I'll come in early and do it, I promise."
He looks at you sternly, and you suddenly feel ashamed for asking. "Wot, so I can pay you overtime?"
"Simon, please - if you do them, I'll give you half my tips for today."
"Now y' dumpin' your work on me?"
"I've got a date!"
"I've got my own shit too!"
You snap your mouth shut. He's never been this stern with you, but you know it's well deserved. It's your chore, after all. You'd been wrong to assume he would do it himself, despite that being the usual. You quickly hop out of the barstool and make your way behind the bar, unplugging the first icebin.
Simon watches as you scurry around, running to and from the ice bin into the kitchen, filling up bucket after bucket of ice and dumping it into the sink in the back. You pace as the machine warms up, glancing at your phone every few minutes, then touching the inside of the ice maker to check the temperature. After a few minutes, you're scrubbing the machine as fast as you can with a soapy rag and a bucket of sanitizer eater next to you.
Twenty minutes have gone by. You're supposed to be on your way to your date, but you're biting your lip, staring angrily at the ice machine as it cools down again. You need to wait for it to be cold before you refill it with ice, and only then can you start on the other machine.
You make another attempt towards Simon. "If I just do one tonight and do the other in the morning-"
"No." Simon snaps, his eyes angry as he drops a container of sliced fruit onto the bar. "This is part of havin' a job."
You look away from him, tears stinging your eyes now. You're so frustrated you want to snap back at him - but he's right, isn't he? Maybe you could ask him if you could just call Max and let him know you'll be running late - but the thought of asking Simon for anything right now (other than more chores) makes you queasy.
Simon doesn't know where the anger came from, but it's still simmering. He watches as you continue to run back and forth, filling up the old ice bin, unplugging the second one, dumping the ice in the back... he's refilling the bloody Mary mix and restocking the bitters. Simple things. He's got nothing to do after this besides go up to his flat and sit in front of the telly, or maybe chat with Soap before he heads home. Why didn't he just do it? Because you had a date, and that was a problem for him. Why? Now you're upset, and it's that knowledge that makes him finally feel the shame that he'd been swallowing down.
You finish dumping the last bucket of ice into the second machine. It's forty minutes after your shift ended. You still have to get to the restaurant you and Max were meeting at, which is a twenty minute walk. You were supposed to be there ten minutes early - now you're going to be an hour late. Frustration mingles with anxiety and burns in the forefront of your mind. But you can't be mad. You should've done your job.
Simon doesn't say anything when you run to the back, your phone pressed to your ear and tears in your eyes. You barely manage a wave to Soap as you grab your bag and jacket and flounder back into the restaraunt. You don't look at Simon.
"I'm leaving now, I'm so sorry- I had to finish up at work and it too longer than I-" you slowed to a walk, then a stop, standing in the middle of the floor. Simon was frozen, watching your shoulders shake.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I had-... it's not an excuse, I promise I'm-... listen, we can go for a walk or something, right? Or go get fast food, someplace still open, just you and me, and we can try again another-"
His eyes burn in his skull as he watches you stand there for a few more seconds, staring at your phone as the call disappears from the screen. He wants to say something - but what can he say? He's already fucked you over. And he doesn't feel any better than when he first discovered your little date. He feels worse.
You stuff your phone in your back pocket, unable to hide the single, choked sob that escapes your throat. You shoulder your bag and stomp your way out of the restaurant, door clanging behind you. Your bike is still in the alley out back, and your unfinished tips are still on the bartop. He wouldn't be surprised if you never come back to collect them.
Soap emerges from the kitchen breaking Simon from his thoughts and wiping his hands on a rag. "Real feckin' kind of ye, Ghost. Never seen such a right cunt." He glares at Simon, before slapping the rag on the table and heading back into the kitchen. His shift was over, too.
Simon has three more hours left to deal with himself before the bar closes.
#bartender ghost#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley#ghost#ghost x reader#ghost x you#cod#ghost cod#call of duty#cod x reader
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TWO MOONS - L.HS
pairing. plug!heeseung x reader
genre. smut, 18+ content, one shot, drabble. MDNI!
word count. 4k+
warnings. drug & alcohol consumption, partying, swearing, sex while intoxicated, short smut [ dry humping, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), fingering ]
synopsis. based off of this hard thought! plug!heeseung who likes you so much that he's convinced himself that you're kinda evil.
a/n. sorry this took so long lol hope u enjoy regardless :) no part 2 so plss dont request it but maybe some drabbles!! also not fully proofread so pls disregard any typos or grammatical errors hehe
Never in his life did Heeseung predict he’d be getting bitched around by a girl arguably much shorter, physically weaker, and far less intimidating than him. And yet here he was, shirtless in his kitchen at two in the morning on his third attempt of baking edibles all because you were too scared to smoke a little weed.
Fucking ridiculous.
It’s his own fault, really, he should’ve known that innocent, good girl persona you put on was all an act you use to control people – specifically men. Stirring the dessert batter in the mixing bowl, Heeseung shakes his head at the memory of you tilting your head and batting your eyelashes at him as you spoke, your perfectly manicured nails – that you probably got some desperate bitchboy to pay for – tracing and lightly scratching his bicep.
“So,” you started, dragging out the ‘o’, “how much do you charge for edibles?”
Heeseung shakes his head, tracing the rim of his half-empty red solo cup as he responds, “Edibles aren’t my forte. You don’t smoke?”
“Not my forte,” you say in a mocking tone, making Heeseung chuckle. “It’s just too much, you know? The smell, how quick it kicks in…not for me. But, uh, if you don’t make them I’ll stop wasting your time, then.” You give Heeseung a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning on your heels, fully prepared to disappear back into the party and find someone who actually meets your needs.
“Wait!” Heeseung stops you, tugging on your arm until you’re back to facing him. He can’t fucking believe this bullshit manipulation tactic you’re using on him is actually working, he’s literally pulling on your arm like a child so you won’t leave him.
You raise a brow at him as you wait for Heeseung to continue, taking note of his sudden nervousness, “Yeah?”
“Uh…are you into, like, brownies? Or…”
The smirk you gave in response said enough, you’ve got him exactly where you want him.
He’d spent the next few hours browsing the aisles of Target, checking his phone every so often and checking off each ingredient as he tossed them into the bright red shopping cart. To make matters worse, you hadn’t even requested normal brownies, you wanted some shit he’d hardly ever heard of before: blondies.
It was bad enough that Heeseung already couldn’t bake for shit, and here you were demanding he’d make something he’d never even tasted before; you really are a master manipulator.
His third and final attempt at baking the blondies were a success, his three roommates taste-testing the fresh batch as a final confirmation.
“I can’t even taste it,” Jake says, his brows shooting up in delight, “you sure you’re not forgetting the main ingredient?”
“That’s the whole point,” Heeseung explains, cutting the remaining batch into neat squares, “YN doesn’t want the taste to be too strong, she likes when it’s more subtle and takes awhile to kick in.”
“Are you her wife or her plug?” Sunghoon jokes from his spot on the couch, taking a small bite of his own blondie.
“Neither,” Jay inserts himself into the conversation, taking a seat next to Sunghoon, “I’m sure he wants to be both, though.”
“Fuck off,” Heeseung snaps, momentarily narrowing his eyes at his roommates. “We just met, I’m just trying to get to know her.” He sets the knife down, reaching into the wooden cabinet to retrieve ziplock bags.
“You’re already her bitch, what else is there to know?” Sunghoon half-jokes, resting his feet on the ottoman.
“I am not her bitch.”
He totally is, if the way he’s hurrying to send you a picture of the freshly made blondies is anything to go by.
Heeseung * 2:47 AM
[Attachment: 1 Image] Yooo
YN * 9:06 AM
omggggg ur the fucking best how much??
You didn’t respond until the following morning, causing Heeseung to nearly jump out of his skin once he woke up to your texts. He turns on his side, elbow propped up against the mattress as he formulates a response.
Heeseung * 10:31 AM
1 for 10 or 2 for 15. venmo or cashapp But lmk if you want more
YN * 10:40 AM
no cash? :(
Heeseung’s about to go on a long winded explanation about how money transferring apps are quicker and more convenient than accepting cash when you interrupt him by sending a photo.
YN * 10:41 AM
[Attachment: 1 Image] plsssss i don’t trust cashapp and ive been having issues w my venmo acc :(
It’s a photo of the bottom half of your face, lips formed into a cute pout with your camera angled low enough to show off your cleavage. You weren’t even trying to be discreet, setting your forearm underneath your chest to make your boobs sit higher, the cheetah print material of your bra peeking out from under your too-small tank top.
Heeseung swallows hard, staring down at the photo with his pupils blown wide as his trembling fingers type out a response.
Heeseung * 10:50 AM
Actually you know what don’t even worry about it lmao Consider it a gift When r u free for pickup Or i can bring to u Either or is fine lol
YN * 10:59 AM
omg :o are u sure? don’t want u to lose out on money >.<
Heeseung * 11:11 AM
It’s fine dw about me baby U picking up? Or want me to drop off On campus is too risky
YN * 11:12 AM
thank u hee!!!!!!! im done with classes around 4:30 i’ll pick up around then if that works also u responded at 11:11…angel number u must be my angel :o
There you go again with your subtle manipulation tactics that Heeseung swears won’t work on him. If there really is angel out of the two of you, it definitely wouldn’t be you, but Heeseung’s not too sure he’d be considered one either. After all, in the twelve minutes it took him to respond to your message, he spent ten of them fucking into his fist as he stared at the photo you sent.
His mind conjured up countless scenarios; leaving hickeys and bite marks across your chest, slipping his dick between your tits as you held them together for him, cumming all over them, fucking anything. Desperate wasn’t even the word.
Heeseung * 11:13 AM
Must be :)
After a month and a half of being your personal baker slash bitchboy, Heeseung really is convinced that you’re using him, yet he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything he’s grateful, fully aware that if it weren’t for him being your plug, the two of you likely never would’ve crossed paths despite attending the same universities.
There wasn’t an ounce of school spirit in his body, so he had little to no urgency to attend any of the sporting events you cheered at or one of the many school-sponsored events you were required to attend. Meeting you at that party not too long ago had been his first encounter with you ever, and you clearly left him with a great first impression on him.
Since that night, he’s found himself conjuring up a new batch of edibles for you every week; brownies, cupcakes, cereal bars, whatever the fuck you wanted, and half the time he’d do it for free if it meant he got to give it to you in person.
He still hasn’t convinced you to actually smoke, though, but maybe it’s for the best. The mere thought of getting high with you and how you’d stare him down with half-lidded eyes was enough to make his dick hard — in fact, it already has. Several times.
Enough time has passed to the point where it’s obvious to everyone, yourself included, that Heeseung has genuine feelings for you that go beyond a physical and sexual attraction. Sure, he’s still convinced that you’re a little bit evil and definitely manipulative, but he considers it part of the fun. He’s also deluded himself into having the “I can fix her” mindset that he’s been using to justify his actions of ignoring your red flags.
However, even if he can’t “fix” you, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. Red is his favorite color, after all.
“You sound…crazy, and she sounds crazier,” Jake leans against the kitchen counter, raising a concerned brow at Heeseung as he takes a sip of his drink.
“I’m not crazy,” Heeseung corrects, “and YN is…I don’t know, honestly. Leave her alone, dipshit.”
Jake throws a hand up in defense, glaring when a fellow partygoer accidentally bumps into him, nearly causing him to spill his drink. “Rather be a dipshit than a bitchboy.” He mutters loud enough for Heeseung to hear before groaning, “Wow, speak of the devil.”
Heeseung turns, following Jake’s line of sight until he spots you walking through the front door. Stunning as always, your khaki mini skirt and black halter top fitting as if they were custom designed for you and only you.
Despite extending you an invitation to Sunghoon’s birthday party, Heeseung was fairly certain you wouldn’t show up tonight, assuming you’d be consumed with cheer practice or one of your many extracurricular activities to attend. Yet, here you were, a wicked grin on your face as you made eye contact with Heeseung.
He gulps in return, eyes wide as he watches you walk over to him and Jake.
You stand beside Heeseung, shooting him a quick smile before directing your attention to Jake, “Sunghoon! Happy birthday, king!”
Jake side-eyes you, briefly glancing at Heeseung before responding, “I’m not…you know what? Nevermind, thanks.” He takes this as an opportunity to exit the conversation, giving Heeseung a light pat on the shoulder as he leaves.
“Didn’t think you’d be here.” Heeseung comments, leaning against the kitchen countertop.
You shrug, “Wasn’t doing anything else, figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop by for a little. Besides, I wanted to see you.”
“Yeah?” Heeseung asks, tongue darting out to lick his lips.
“Yeah,” you respond, taking a step closer and resting your hand on his bicep, “got anything for me?”
Fuck, Heeseung knew he should’ve made another batch of brownies or some shit. He seriously hadn’t been expecting you to show up tonight, otherwise he would’ve been prepared.
He shakes his head, “Not this time, you should’ve told me you were coming; I would’ve made something.”
You groan, momentarily tilting your head back, “I just wanted to surprise you.”
“Consider me surprised,” his hand lands on your waist, pulling your body until your flush against him, “why won’t you just smoke with me?”
You grimace, shaking your head in response.
Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Just once? I know your first time wasn’t that great, but, I really think you’d like it if you tried again.”
“I don’t know, Hee…”
“Tell you what,” Heeseung starts, clearing his throat, “smoke with me just this once, and your next few purchases are on me.”
It isn’t much of an offer considering most of the shit he gave you was either free or already extremely discounted, but your eyes light up regardless. “Really?”
Heeseung nods, “I swear.”
You think it over for a moment, the pros instantly outweigh the cons and lead you to accept Heeseung’s desperate offer.
A few minutes later, you find yourself in a comfortable lounge chair with Heeseung in his backyard, grateful that the remaining partygoers opted to stay indoors, giving you privacy and alone time with him.
You’re sitting sideways on his lap, trying your best to ignore the feeling of his dick pressing right against your ass, neatly rolled blunt in one hand as he uses the other to fish a lighter from his pocket. “You’re nervous,” he comments.
You shake your head, “I’m not.”
“You are, I feel you shaking.”
“I’m fine, just kinda cold. Go on.”
Heeseung studies you for a moment, eye contact strong and intimidating as ever as he brings the blunt to his parted lips. You watch carefully as he brings the lighter towards the tip, focusing entirely too much on the concentrated look on his face as he lights it. Slowly, he begins to rotate it as the end continues to burn, taking a few small puffs here and there.
Satisfied with his creation, Heeseung takes a long, slow drag, inhaling the smoke into his lungs before titling his head away to exhale.
“Your turn,” he says, offering you the blunt.
You hesitantly stare down at it before accepting; it was intimidating to say the least, the scent alone strong enough to make your head hurt. Heeseung watches you patiently, eyes darting between your lips and the blunt in silence.
Deciding you need a little bit of encouragement, he brings his thumb to your lips, parting them slightly as his free-hand wraps around your wrist, “You’ll be fine, trust me.”
Under the guidance of his calloused hand, you finally bring the blunt up to your lips and briefly inhale before immediately exhaling.
Heeseung chuckles, shaking his head, “How’d that feel?”
You ponder for a moment, passing the blunt back to Heeseung, “I don’t feel anything. Literally nothing.”
“I mean, yeah, you didn’t even inhale it.”
You roll your eyes, “Why are there so many steps? This is why I prefer edibles.”
“I’m just showing you that you have other options, babe.”
“Yeah, well I’m sticking to my baked goods. You can have the rest of that, I don’t want anymore.”
Heeseung’s well aware that you’re a woman of your word, and the chances of you ever smoking again were a definite zero, so trying to get you to change your mind was pointless. However, there is one thing that may just work on you.
“Mind if I try something?”
You perk up, “Try what?”
“I do all the work but you still get high.”
You raise a brow, “That’s possible?”
He nods, “All you’d have to do is take deep breaths.”
Taking a deep breath, you accept Heeseung’s offer with a sigh, resting a hand on his shoulder as you adjust yourself on his lap. “Fine.”
Here goes nothing.
He guides the blunt back to his lips, taking a long drag as he holds the smoke in his mouth. He tilts his head upward towards you, taking your chin in his hand, signaling for you to part your lips. You follow his command and part your lips open, just enough for Heeseung to close the distance and allow the smoke into your mouth, his lips barely brushing against yours in the process.
You take in a deep breath, eyes closed shut and inhale the smoke, careful not to exhale too quickly and have a repeat of your previous attempt.
“How was that?” Heeseung asks, taking note of your sudden silence.
Truthfully, it wasn’t bad. The smell is still too strong for your liking and requires much more effort than biting off a piece of dessert and calling it a day, but it wasn’t bad. You’re certain that Heeseung shotgunning it into your mouth only added to the experience.
“Not bad,” you admit, “probably because you did all the work.”
He chuckles at that, “I’ll always take care of you, remember that.”
Heeseung is having the time of his life, thoroughly convinced that he finally has some power over you. Here you were sitting on his lap in his backyard letting him blow smoke into your mouth. Sure, it may have taken a lot of convincing and begging on his end to get to this point, but none of that matters; baby steps are still movement.
As if the night couldn’t have gotten any better, you’re asking Heeseung to shotgun more smoke into your mouth over and over. He’s careful to maintain a calm and nonchalant demeanor as he does so, not wanting to come off as too eager out of fear of scaring you away. Or even worse, giving you back that power you have over him.
On the fifth time, you swipe your tongue across Heeseung’s bottom lip when he passes the smoke into your mouth, a low groan escaping from him in the process. He’s fully hard in his jeans by now, and there’s no way you can’t feel his dick pressing right into you. Despite the cold weather, your entire body feels warm all over, Heeseung only adding to the pleasure.
You should’ve taken Heeseung a bit more seriously when he said you’d still get high from this; after a few minutes, your limbs were already starting to feel lighter and weaker. A delicate, cloud-like haze fills your head; your vision blurs slightly and it takes a few minutes for you to fully relax.
Heeseung, attentive as ever, remains silent and still has he watches you; primarily due to the fact that you squirming around on his lap is only adding to the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans. One wrong move, and he’d surely be cumming in his boxers.
You rest your forehead against Heeseung, pressing a firm hand against his chest when he moves to blow more smoke into your mouth. He hums, staring up at with a concerned look on his face.
You close your eyes, mumbling, “Heeseung…”
He hums again in response, still holding the smoke in his mouth.
You open your eyes briefly before closing them again, balling up the collar of his shirt in your fist as you lean down to press your lips against his. He opens his mouth on instinct, as if it were a second nature, parting his lips slightly and exhaling the smoke into your mouth once again.
Heeseung absentmindedly sets the blunt down, his hands moving to your waist to pull you closer to him until your tits are pressed right up against his chest. He groans into your mouth at the feelings, tilting his head to allow himself further into your mouth.
You cup his face in your hands, hips moving forward as you slowly begin to grind yourself against him. “Fuck,” he moans in a low voice, “keep doing that.”
You grind down harsher this time, capturing his moan in your mouth in the process. With each movement of your hips, a shiver descends down your spine at the friction; Heeseung is painfully hard, and from what you could feel, he was definitely packing. Bigger than what you would’ve expected.
It all feels too good; you grinding against him, the state of his high, your tongue in his mouth. It’s all so overwhelmingly euphoric that Heeseung hardly realizes how close he is to literally cumming in his boxers.
His body was always overly sensitive whenever he got high, and often avoided any sort of intimacy that involved another person due to how embarrassingly quick he would finish, and tonight doesn't seem to be any different. What makes matters worse is the fact that Heeseung was already desperately attracted to you and had been dreaming of this moment since he’d first met you.
He pulls away quickly, cursing under his breath, “YN, h-hold on,” he stutters, “slow down, please.”
You don’t listen; in fact, you can barely even hear him with how caught up you were in your own head. “Hmm? Say that again?”
“S-slow – ah, fuck – slow down for a sec, baby.”
His grip on your waist tightens, and despite the urgency in his tone of wanting you to slow down, he makes no effort to still your hips move you off of him. Fuck it, it is what it is.
“Why?” You question, tilting your head, but you’re a few seconds too late.
Heeseung’s entire body shivers, hips jolting upwards as he comes on himself, making a mess of his boxers. While that alone was definitely embarrassing, Heeseung is more annoyed over the fact that you’ve regained your power over him. His priorities were definitely fucked, but he didn’t even care; he could clean himself up later, but the damage to his ego would take longer to repair.
Your hands fly to your mouth in shock, eyes widening as you process what’s just happened, “Oh, Heeseung…” you mumble into the palm of your hands.
He throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he runs a hand down his face, “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding.”
“It’s okay! It happens! No big deal!” You try to reassure him, but it goes in one ear and out the other.
Sure it happens and maybe it isn’t a big deal, but it is for Heeseung. He’s not the type to bust a nut over someone squirming around in his lap for ten minutes, this shit was fucking insanity.
“I’m seriously not like this, I’m just overly-sensitive when I’m high. I swear, I-”
“It’s fine, Heeseung,” you interrupt, standing from his lap, “if anything, I’m flattered! Why don’t you, uh, get cleaned up and I’ll see you later?”
“YN, come on, don’t do this.” He pleads, following you and you make your way towards the sliding door.
“I told you, it’s fine! I’m not like,” you pause, opening the door with a loud grunt, “mad or weirded out or anything.”
You slip back into the living room, Heeseung hot on your tail with every step. “Let me make it up to you!”
You sigh, “Honestly, I don’t think you have it in you to do that right now.”
“I do! Just let me, please.”
“Heeseung, please drop it. I said it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine, at least let me eat you out or something!”
“Heeseung!” Your eyes widen at his lewd, shameless offer, “Lower your voice! We’re in a fucking party surrounded by people!”
He smacks his teeth, “I don’t care. Please, YN.”
“You don’t have to make it up to me, you do not owe me anything.”
A beat of silence passes, then he says, “Then do it for me. Please.”
Even though Heeseung was the one literally begging to go down for you, there is a possibility of him having some sort of power over you; or maybe you just have a soft spot for him. Either way, you end up lying in his bed twenty minutes later, skirt bunched up around your waist as Heeseung’s wet tongue circles your clit, desperate attempt at coaxing a second orgasm from you.
He hadn’t even realized he’d grown hard again just from eating you out, and would likely end up cuuming in his boxers again just from doing this.
“Fuck,” he moans into your folds, pulling away slightly to pepper kisses on your inner thighs, “been waiting so fucking long for this.”
“Yeah?” You question, your grip on Heeseung’s hair tightening.
This earns a low groan from him as he nods against your skin, “You have no idea.”
Deciding he’s spent enough time away from your cunt, his lips make their way back onto you; his tongue falls flat against you, dragging your wetness upwards towards your swollen clit before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud.
Your body shivers, a beam of sweat dripping down your forehead as your second orgasm approaches. You’ve been eaten out before, countless times, but never like this. It was almost as if Heeseung was doing it for his own pleasure rather than your.
He teases your entrance with his finger before sliding two of them in with ease, curling them upwards and immediately hitting the spot you needed him the most.
“H-Heeseung…hold on…”
He hums, but he’s not really listening, too occupied with kitten-licking your clit and pumping his fingers in and out of you. The knot in your stomach finally snaps and you’re gushing against his hands and mouth, Heeseung only takes this as a sign to continue lapping at your cunt. You have to literally grab him by the hair and drag him away from you.
He stares up at you, pupils blown wide and his chin coated in your juices, but he definitely looks happy. “What?” he asks.
You struggle to catch your breath, “You’re hard again?”
He looks down at his crotch momentarily before shrugging, “I guess.”
“You…don’t you wanna do something about that?”
His eyes flash down to your cunt for a split second, “It can wait.”
You scoff, “Well, I need a minute.”
Heeseung nods in agreement, impatiently drumming his fingers on his bed as you flop against his mattress. “Ready?” He asks once a minute has passed.
“No.”
He sighs, then sighs again, and again and again until you let out a frustrated groan. “Go get me a glass of fucking water.”
“Okay!” He shouts while standing, exiting the bedroom in a hurry. Maybe you really do treat him like a bitchboy, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
#enhypen imagine#enhypen smut#enhypen scenarios#lee heeseung#lee heeseung imagine#lee heeseung smut#heeseung x reader#kpop imagine#kpop smut#kpop scencario#jake sim#park sunghoon#park jongseong
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Drown With Me
Ningning x Minji x Male Reader
word count: 10K
"I was so happy, you know?"
Her words, her tone, her expression – they’re etched in your memory...
—
Firstly: let's rewind to the moment that started it all. Or rather, the fight that started it all. But just a part of it, because the whole argument was a bit too... dramatic.
—
"You fucking asshole! I can't believe you're making me feel guilty about this trip!" Minji screams, tears streaming down her face as she throws clothes into her suitcase. Her small hands are shaking with rage.
“I just can't understand you! When I keep my shit to myself, you complain that I'm not being truthful in the relationship, and when I decide to tell you what's bothering me, you freak out. You know this promotion means everything to me, Minji, and now you're acting like I'm abandoning you," you snap back, watching her frantically pack from the doorway of your shared bedroom.
"Abandoning me? No, you're just being a selfish prick who can't be happy for his girlfriend's success!" She slams the suitcase shut, mascara running down her cheeks. "I've supported every single one of your career moves, but the one time I get a huge opportunity, you make it all about you!"
"That's not what I'm saying and you know it! I just wish you'd discussed it with me first instead of just announcing you're fucking off to Singapore for a month!"
"Discuss it? With you?" She laughs bitterly. "Why? So you could try to talk me out of it? Make me feel even more guilty?"
"Minji, come on..." You try to reach for her but she jerks away.
"Don't touch me. I can't even look at you right now." She wipes her eyes roughly with the back of her hand. "I have to go or I'll miss my flight. Don't bother calling."
You watch helplessly as she drags her suitcase out of the bedroom, the wheels thumping against the hardwood floors. The front door slams shut moments later, leaving you alone in the sudden silence of your apartment.
"Fuck!" You punch the wall, immediately regretting it as pain shoots through your knuckles.
—
She drops it on you out of nowhere, right in the middle of a forkful of pasta, like it’s just casual dinner conversation. “So I’ll be in Singapore for a month. My trip is scheduled for next week.” she says, barely looking up as she keeps eating. No heads-up, no “Hey, I was thinking…” Just lays it out there, cold as fact.
You should be happy for her. Hell, you should feel damn proud. Minji, your Minji, jetting off for a huge business trip, about to prove to everyone what you already know - that she’s amazing at what she does. But instead, there’s this weird little twist of annoyance clawing its way up from somewhere deep. It’s like you’re happy, sure, but there’s this raw, stupid irritation bubbling under it all that you didn’t see coming.
She never mentioned it before. Never talked about weighing options, asked you what you thought, nothing. Just tosses it at you like a done deal, already set in stone. And yeah, it stings a little, like she didn’t even think you’d want a say. It’s petty, it’s stupid, but it’s there, scratching around at the back of your head, whispering: am I an afterthought now?
You catch yourself, feeling like the world’s most selfish boyfriend because you know she deserves this. She’s worked herself to the bone, fought for this chance to prove herself, to show she’s worth every bit of it. Of course you want her to go, to kill it, to come back with stories of how she made the whole damn boardroom take notice. But somewhere inside, there’s still that ugly little itch, wondering - couldn’t she have acted like this was a decision for the two of you? Just… a little?
The guilt starts swirling in after that, heavier than before, sinking low and deep. What kind of boyfriend gets hung up on something so small when his girlfriend’s about to take this huge step? You want to push it down, make it disappear, go back to that exact second before she said anything, and just feel proud. Proud without all this stupid baggage.
But the feeling’s there, thick and stuck, wedged between the pride and the frustration, and there’s no easy way to get it out. So you sit there in silence, forcing yourself to nod, to smile at the right parts, while she lights up, spilling plans and ideas and everything she’s about to do. You’re trying to just let it all go, to be the guy she deserves - a guy who’s genuinely happy for her without strings, without ego. But it clings to you anyway, like some shadow you didn’t invite, and all you can do is pray it doesn’t twist into something even messier down the line.
But we know exactly how it ended.
—
Three days pass in misery, all you have is takeout containers, beer bottles, and mindless TV shows. You've texted Minji multiple times but only gotten short, cold responses. The apartment feels too big, too empty without her presence.
You're sprawled on the couch, starting your fourth beer of the evening, when there's a knock at the door. For a moment, your heart leaps thinking it might be Minji, but you know she's still in Singapore.
"Coming!" you call out, grabbing a t-shirt off the floor and pulling it on as you stumble to the door. When you open it, you find yourself face to face with Ningning, Minji's best friend.
"Wow, you look like shit," she says bluntly, pushing past you into the apartment.
Ningning has always been stunning in an almost intimidating way. Today she's wearing a tight black crop top that shows off her toned stomach and high-waisted jeans that hug every curve. Her long black hair falls in waves past her shoulders, and her dark eyes seem to see right through you.
"Nice to see you too," you mutter, closing the door. "What are you doing here?"
"Minji asked me to check on you." Ningning wrinkles her nose at the mess of bottles and takeout containers. "Good thing she did. This is pathetic."
You run a hand through your unwashed hair. "I'm fine. You can tell her I'm fine."
"Really? Because you look and smell like you haven't showered in days." She picks up an empty beer bottle, examining it. "And it seems like you're trying to drink yourself into oblivion."
"It's none of your business," you snap, snatching the bottle from her hand.
Ningning's red lips curve into a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Actually, it is my business. Minji's my best friend, and she's worried about you. Even though you're being a total dick about her trip."
"You don't know anything about it."
"I know enough." She steps closer, and you catch another whiff of her perfume. "I know you made her cry before the biggest opportunity of her career. Dick move."
The guilt and alcohol make your head spin. "I didn't mean to... I just... fuck." You sink onto the couch, head in your hands.
You feel the couch dip as Ningning sits beside you, close enough that her thigh brushes against yours. "Hey," she says, her voice softer now. "I get it. Long distance sucks. But it's only a month."
"A month feels like forever right now," you admit. The beer is definitely hitting you now, making your tongue loose. "The apartment feels wrong without her here."
"Then maybe you need a distraction." Ningning's hand lands on your thigh, and your whole body tenses. "Something to take your mind off things."
You turn to look at her, meaning to tell her to back off, but the words die in your throat. She's closer than you expected, those dark eyes boring into yours. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and you can't help tracking the movement.
"Ning..." you start, but you're not sure if it's a warning or something else.
"I always wondered what it was like to be in Minji's shoes," she murmurs, her hand sliding higher on your thigh. "Maybe now's my chance to find out.”
"We can't..." But your protest sounds weak even to your own ears. The combination of alcohol, loneliness, and Ningning's intoxicating presence is making it hard to think straight.
"Why not?" Her other hand comes up to cup your face, turning you toward her. "What Minji doesn't know won't hurt her."
Before you can respond, she closes the distance between you, pressing her lips against yours. For a moment, you're too shocked to react. Then your body takes over, responding to the first intimate contact you've had in days.
Her lips are soft but demanding, nothing like Minji's gentle kisses. When her tongue pushes into your mouth, you taste mint and something sweet. Your hands move of their own accord, gripping her waist and pulling her closer.
Ning swings one leg over your lap, straddling you. The position brings her core right against your growing erection, and she grinds down deliberately, drawing a groan from your throat.
"That's it," she purrs against your lips. "Stop thinking so much."
Her hands slip under your t-shirt, nails scraping lightly against your abs. You know you should stop this, push her away, but your body is on fire with need. When she rocks against you again, your hips buck up instinctively.
"Fuck, you're already so hard for me," Ningning breathes, pulling back to look at you with heavy-lidded eyes. "Let me take care of you."
She grinds down again, more forcefully this time, and your head falls back against the couch. "This is wrong," you manage to say, even as your hands slide down to grip her ass.
"Then why does it feel so right?" She attacks your neck with lips and teeth, sucking hard enough to leave marks. The pain-pleasure sends jolts straight to your cock.
Your hands slip under her crop top, finding bare skin. Her body is different from Minji's - more toned, with smaller breasts but wider hips. The comparison makes guilt twist in your stomach, but it's quickly drowned out by lust when Ningning bites down on your earlobe.
She pulls back just long enough to yank your t-shirt over your head, then immediately latches onto one of your nipples. The sensation makes you buck up against her again, your cock straining against your boxers.
"Someone's eager," she teases, rolling her hips in slow circles. "Want to see how wet you've made me?"
Before you can answer, she grabs one of your hands and guides it between her legs. Even through her jeans, you can feel the heat radiating from her core. When you press your fingers against her, she moans and grinds down onto your hand.
"See?" She captures your lips in another burning kiss. "I've wanted this for so long. Wanted to show you what you've been missing."
The words should be a bucket of cold water, reminding you of Minji, but instead they just fuel the fire burning through your veins. You squeeze her ass with your free hand, pulling her harder against you as you devour her mouth.
Ningning breaks the kiss to stand up suddenly, leaving you bereft of contact. But before you can protest, she's hooking her fingers into the waistband of her jeans, slowly shimming them down her legs.
Your mouth goes dry at the sight of her black lace thong, barely covering anything. Her legs seem to go on forever, and when she turns around to step out of her jeans, you get a perfect view of her round ass.
"Like what you see?" she asks over her shoulder, giving her ass a little shake.
"Fuck," is all you can manage, adjusting yourself in your pants.
She turns back to face you, crossing her arms to grab the hem of her crop top. In one fluid motion, she pulls it over her head, revealing a matching black lace bra. Her breasts strain against the material, nipples clearly visible through the delicate fabric.
"Your turn," she purrs, hooking her fingers in your pants. "Up."
You lift your hips automatically, letting her pull your pants and boxers down and off. Your cock springs free, already rock hard and leaking pre-cum. Ningning licks her lips at the sight, wrapping one hand around your shaft.
"Mmm, bigger than I expected," she says, giving you a few slow strokes. "No wonder Minji always looks so satisfied."
The mention of your girlfriend's name sends another pang of guilt through you, but it's quickly forgotten when Ningning drops to her knees between your legs. She maintains eye contact as she leans forward, running her tongue from base to tip.
"Fuck!" you gasp, hands gripping the couch cushions.
"Just wait," she smirks, before taking you into her mouth.
The wet heat of her mouth is incredible. She takes you deep right away, her throat relaxing to accommodate your length. Unlike Minji's hesitant, gentle oral skills, Ningning sucks cock like she was born for it.
Her head bobs up and down, tongue swirling around your shaft. One hand works what doesn't fit in her mouth while the other massages your balls. The sight of her red lips stretched around your cock, mascara starting to smear from her watering eyes, is almost enough to make you cum right then.
You thread your fingers through her long hair, not guiding her movements but just holding on. She hums around your length, sending vibrations through your whole body. When she pulls back to focus on your tip, sucking hard while her hand works your shaft, you have to grit your teeth to hold back.
"Shit, Ning, I'm gonna cum if you keep that up," you warn her, trying to pull her off.
But she just takes you deeper, looking up at you through her lashes as she deepthroats you. The sight of your cock disappearing into her throat, combined with the intense suction, pushes you over the edge.
You cum with a shout, pumping rope after rope of hot cum down her throat. Ningning swallows it all, continuing to suck until you're completely spent and oversensitive.
When she finally pulls off with a wet pop, strings of saliva and cum connect her lips to your cock. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, looking incredibly pleased with herself.
"Tasty," she says, licking her lips. "But we're not done yet."
Before you can recover, she's standing up and reaching behind her back to unhook her bra. Her breasts bounce free, smaller than Minji's but perfectly shaped with pink nipples standing at attention.
She hooks her thumbs in her thong, slowly sliding it down her legs. Your cock twitches at the sight of her bare pussy, already glistening with arousal. She's completely shaved, her pink lips puffy and inviting.
"See how wet sucking your cock got me?" She runs a finger through her folds, gathering her juices before bringing it to her mouth to suck clean. "I bet you want to taste me."
You nod dumbly, reaching for her, but she pushes you back against the couch. "Uh uh, just sit back and enjoy."
She climbs back onto your lap, but this time facing away from you. The position gives you a perfect view as she reaches between her legs to guide your semi-hard cock to her entrance.
"Ready for round two?" she asks, rubbing your tip against her wet slit.
Before you can answer, she sinks down onto you in one smooth motion. You both groan at the sensation - she's incredibly tight, her walls gripping you like a vice as she takes you to the hilt.
"Fuck, you're so big," she moans, grinding her hips in small circles. "Stretching me so good."
Your hands find her hips as she starts to move, lifting herself up before dropping back down. The sight of your cock disappearing into her pussy, her ass bouncing against your thighs, has you fully hard again in no time.
Ningning sets a brutal pace, riding you hard and fast. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, along with her increasingly loud moans. She reaches back to brace herself on your shoulders, changing the angle so your cock hits deeper.
"Yes, yes, fuck me!" she cries out, her pussy clenching around you. "Harder!"
You plant your feet firmly on the ground and start thrusting up to meet her bounces. The new force has her screaming, her nails digging into your shoulders as she takes everything you give her.
One of your hands slides around to rub her clit, and she nearly convulses at the touch. Her walls flutter around your cock as she gets closer to the edge.
"Gonna cum," she pants, movements becoming erratic. "Make me cum on your big cock!"
You increase the pressure on her clit, rubbing tight circles as you continue to thrust up into her. When she finally breaks, her whole body goes rigid, pussy clamping down on you like a vice as she screams your name.
The sight and sensation of her cumming triggers your own orgasm. You grip her hips hard enough to bruise as you empty yourself inside her, filling her pussy with hot cum.
Ningning collapses back against your chest, both of you breathing heavily. Your softening cock is still inside her, and you can feel your combined fluids leaking out around it.
"Holy fuck," she says after a moment, turning her head to kiss you lazily. "That was even better than I imagined."
Reality starts to creep back in as the post-orgasm haze fades.
You just cheated on Minji.
With her best friend.
On the couch where you and Minji usually cuddle and watch movies.
"We shouldn't have done that," you say, but make no move to push her off.
"But we did." Ningning stands up, cum running down her thighs. The sight makes your spent cock twitch. "And we're going to do it again."
She gathers her clothes and heads to the bathroom, leaving you alone with your guilt and confusion.
What the fuck have you done?
—
The next few days are a sickening mix of shame, guilt and lust, oh, and more incredible sex than you've ever had. Ningning comes over almost every day. You fuck on every surface of the apartment - the kitchen counter, the shower, the dining room table.
She's insatiable, always wanting more, always pushing your boundaries. She makes you do things you've never done before, things you never even considered with Minji.
After that sixth time, with both of you tangled up, tipsy and reckless, she watches as you crumble, phone in hand after hearing Minji’s voice. Tears slip down your face as the reality hits hard. You and Minji talk, stumbling through apologies and whispered promises, mending the torn edges between you. By the end, you’re clear: Ningning won’t be coming around again.
When you tell Ningning, she just smirks, as if it were a joke that only she understands. "You’re drunk," she says. "You'll change your mind. We're the same, you and me." Her words dig in, and Ningning knows that you have no way of proving her wrong. So you just grit your teeth and ask her to leave.
She does. But that smile lingers as she goes, certain she’s right.
Oh, and she is.
—
You're sitting on your couch scrolling mindlessly through your phone when you hear a knock on the door. Opening it, you freeze at the sight before you. Ningning stands there in a tight white button-up shirt tied above her belly button, red tie, an obscenely short plaid skirt that barely covers her ass, white knee socks, and her black hair in pigtails. Your cock instantly stirs as memories of buying this exact outfit for Minji flood back.
"Like what you see?" Ningning purrs, doing a little twirl that makes her skirt flare up. You catch a glimpse of tiny white panties underneath.
"Ning, how in the world did you get here dressed like that?" You try to keep your voice steady but fail miserably. "We can't keep doing this."
She pushes past you into the apartment, her perfume - sweet and intoxicating - filling your nostrils. "Why not? Minji's gone on her work trip, isn't she? The one she didn't even discuss with you first?"
Your jaw clenches at the reminder. Ningning knows exactly which buttons to push. She saunters over to your couch, deliberately swaying her hips. When she bends over to adjust her sock, her skirt rides up to reveal the full curve of her ass.
"Remember how you bought this exact outfit for Minji?" she continues, straightening up and facing you. "How she said roleplaying made her uncomfortable?" Ningning runs her hands down her body. "Yeah, she tells me everything and, well, I'm here to fulfill your fantasy."
"This is wrong," you protest weakly, but your eyes are glued to her body. "You're her best friend..."
"And you're her boyfriend who she takes for granted," Ningning counters, stepping closer. "When's the last time she really fucked you properly? Made you lose control?"
Your breathing grows heavy as she closes the distance between you. Her small hand traces down your chest, over your stomach, to cup your hardening cock through your pants.
"Mmm, someone's excited," she giggles. "Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind is fighting it."
"Ning..." you groan as she squeezes gently.
"Want to be my teacher?" she whispers, looking up at you through thick lashes. "I've been such a naughty student..."
Your resistance crumbles as she drops to her knees, quickly undoing your belt and zipper. Your cock springs free, already rock hard. Ningning licks her lips.
“Your dick is too good to be unusable for a whole month," she purrs, wrapping her small hand around your shaft. "Minji was very irresponsible this time."
The mention of your girlfriend sends wave of guilt through you, but it's quickly overwhelmed by pleasure as Ningning's hot mouth engulfs your cock. She takes you deep, deeper than Minji ever has, until her nose is pressed against your pelvis.
"Fuck!" you grunt, hands instinctively grabbing her pigtails. She moans around your length, the vibrations making your knees weak.
Ningning pulls back with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting her lips to your cock. "Use my mouth," she begs. "Fuck my throat like you've always wanted to fuck hers."
You know you should stop this. Push her away. Call Minji and confess everything. But instead, you grip Ningning's pigtails tightly, using them like handlebars as you thrust deep into her willing mouth. Her throat bulges visibly each time you push in, the outline of your thick shaft visible through her delicate neck.
"Fuck, you really know how to take it," you groan, watching her glossy lips stretch around your girth. Unlike Minji, who always struggles past the halfway point, Ningning swallows your entire length without hesitation.
She looks up at you with watery eyes, mascara already starting to run down her cheeks. The sight of her in the schoolgirl outfit, on her knees, throat stuffed with your cock, is almost too much to handle.
"You like that, don't you?" you growl, pulling her pigtails to force her deeper. "Like being a better cocksucker than your best friend?"
She moans around your shaft, the vibrations making your cock throb. Drool runs down her chin as she gags slightly, but she doesn't try to pull back. Instead, she grabs your thighs and pulls herself even closer.
"Such a hungry little slut," you praise, starting to thrust into her mouth. "Taking my cock deeper than Minji ever could..."
Ningning's eyes roll back as you fuck her face, her throat relaxing to accommodate your full length. Every time you pull back, a string of thick saliva connects her lips to your cock.
"Is this what you imagined?" you ask, increasing your pace. "All those times Minji complained about not being able to deepthroat me... were you thinking about showing her how it's done?"
She tries to nod with your cock still buried in her throat, making herself gag. The sound only encourages you to thrust harder, using her pigtails to control the depth and speed.
Your balls slap against her chin with each stroke now, adding to the obscene symphony of gagging and slurping sounds. Her makeup is completely ruined, black streaks running down her face as tears flow freely.
"Such a good little throat slut," you groan, holding her head still as you fuck into her mouth. "Taking every inch like you were made for it..."
She reaches up to massage your balls while you use her throat, encouraging you to go harder, faster, deeper. The contrast with Minji's careful, hesitant blowjobs is stark - Ningning truly loves having her face fucked.
"Bet you practiced for this," you continue, watching her throat bulge. "Bet you've been using toys for months, just waiting for this moment..."
A particularly hard thrust makes her gag violently, but still she doesn't pull away. If anything, she pushes forward, burying her nose in your pubic hair as she swallows around your length.
The sight of her taking your cock so eagerly, combined with the tight squeeze of her throat, brings you dangerously close to cumming. But you're not done using her mouth yet.
You pull out completely, letting her catch her breath. Strings of thick saliva connect her swollen lips to your cock as she gasps for air.
"Please," she begs, voice hoarse from the throat fucking. "Use my mouth... wreck my throat... show me what Minji's too scared to take..."
You slam back in without warning, making her eyes go wide as you bottom out in her throat. Her nose presses against your pelvis as you hold her there, feeling her throat contract around your shaft.
"Fuck, you're such a good cocksucker," you groan, slowly withdrawing before thrusting deep again. "Taking my cock like a proper slut..."
She moans around your length, the vibrations pushing you closer to the edge. Her hands grip your thighs tighter, encouraging you to use her mouth however you want.
Your pace becomes brutal as you chase your orgasm, fucking her face with abandon. The wet sounds of your cock plunging into her throat fill the room, along with her muffled moans and gagging.
"Gonna cum," you warn, pulling her pigtails harder. "Gonna flood your throat with my load..."
She looks up at you with pleading eyes, silently begging for your cum. The sight of her - face a mess, throat bulging, schoolgirl outfit disheveled - pushes you over the edge.
With a final thrust, you bury yourself to the hilt in her throat and explode. She swallows eagerly around your pulsing cock, drinking down every drop of cum as you pump it directly into her throat.
Only when the last spurt has been swallowed do you slowly withdraw, watching as she gasps for air. Her lips are swollen and red, face covered in smeared makeup and saliva.
She couldn't be more beautiful.
"Thank you," she rasps, voice wrecked from the throat fucking. "For showing me what a real face fucking feels like..."
“Damn... That was amazing... You were amazing.”
"All for you, baby," she says hoarsely, standing up. "But now it's my turn to have some fun." She unbuttons her shirt slowly, revealing a lacy white bra underneath.
Ningning sits on the couch, looking at you, sliding her hands along her thighs, waiting for you to touch her.
You approach Ningning, your fingers hover at her entrance, teasing through her slick folds. She's already dripping wet, her pussy lips swollen and flushed pink. You can smell her arousal.
"Mmm, stop being such a tease," Ningning whimpers, spreading her legs wider. Her tiny white panties are soaked through, a dark wet patch visible in the center. "I need those thick fingers inside me..."
You trace light circles around her clit through the thin fabric, making her squirm. "Patience," you murmur. "Good girls wait for what they want."
"But I'm not a good girl," she purrs, grinding against your hand. "I'm the kind of girl who seduces her best friend's boyfriend while wearing a schoolgirl outfit..."
The reminder of what you're doing - who you're touching - sends a fresh wave of guilt through you. But it's mixed with an undeniable surge of arousal that makes your head spin.
You hook your fingers in the waistband of her panties, dragging them down her smooth legs torturously slow. She kicks them off impatiently, spreading herself open with both hands to give you a perfect view of her pussy.
"Look how wet I am for you," she breathes, running a finger through her folds. "I've been dripping since I put this outfit on, thinking about how I was going to make you lose control..."
You replace her finger with yours, sliding through her wetness. Her clit is hard and swollen, begging for attention. You circle it slowly, barely touching, making her hips buck seeking more pressure.
"Fuck, your fingers feel amazing," she moans. "Minji told me they would..."
Your cock throbs at her words. "What else did she tell you?"
"Mmm, everything," Ningning says with a wicked smile. "All those late night girl talks, sharing secrets about our sex lives... She loves bragging about how good you are with your hands..."
You push one finger inside her slowly, groaning at how tight she is. Her inner walls grip you like a vice as you start pumping in and out.
"She told me how you can make her cum just from fingering her," Ningning continues, rolling her hips to meet your thrusts. "How sometimes you have to hold her down because it gets so intense..."
Adding a second finger, you stretch her tight hole while curling them to search for that special spot.
When you find it, her whole body jerks.
"FUCK!" she cries out, grabbing your wrist. "Right there! Harder!"
You massage that spot relentlessly, watching her face contort in pleasure. Her small tits bounce with each thrust of your hand, nipples hard and visible through her thin bra.
"Know what else she told me?" Ningning pants between moans. "That sometimes- oh god! Sometimes you make her squirt... but she gets embarrassed... tries to hold it back..."
You add a third finger, stretching her even more. Your thumb finds her clit, rubbing tight circles around the swollen bud while your fingers work that spot inside her.
"I'm not shy like her," she continues, voice getting higher as pleasure builds. "I want to soak your whole fucking hand... want to show you what you're missing with her..."
Her pussy gets wetter with each thrust, juices running down your wrist and dripping onto the floor. The obscene squelching sounds fill the room as you finger-fuck her mercilessly.
"She also told me about your schoolgirl fantasy," Ningning moans. "How you bought her this exact outfit... but she was too vanilla to wear it... said roleplaying made her uncomfortable..."
Your fingers pump faster at her words, thumb working her clit harder. She's so wet now, practically gushing around your fingers.
"But look at me," she purrs. "Wearing exactly what you wanted... letting you do exactly what you've been dreaming about... being exactly the dirty little slut you need..."
Her words drive you wild. You curl your fingers more aggressively, massaging her g-spot while your thumb rubs quick circles on her clit. Her thighs start trembling as she gets close.
"That's it," she encourages. "Make me cum like you make her cum... show me why she brags about those fingers..."
You can feel her pussy starting to contract around your fingers. Ningning pulls the bra off in one go, breaking the strap. She's close, so close. You lean down and take one of her nipples in your mouth, sucking hard while your hand works between her legs.
"Oh fuck!" she screams. "Right there, don't stop, gonna cum gonna cum gonna-"
Her whole body goes rigid as the orgasm hits. Her pussy clamps down on your fingers like a vice, gushing fluid all over your hand. But you don't stop - you keep going, working her through it as she writhes and moans.
"Don't stop don't stop don't stop!" she chants, riding your hand desperately. More fluid gushes out with each thrust, soaking your arm and the couch beneath her.
Just when you think she's done, another wave hits. Her thighs clamp around your wrist as she squirts again, spraying her release all over you. The sight of your girlfriend's best friend coming undone on your fingers is the hottest thing you've ever seen.
"Fuck fuck fuck!" she screams, grinding against your hand as a third orgasm builds immediately after the second. Her whole body is shaking now, covered in a light sheen of sweat that makes her skin glow.
You keep going, relentless in your assault on her g-spot while your thumb continues its torture on her oversensitive clit. She's babbling incoherently now, lost in pleasure.
"Too much!" she finally gasps, trying to close her legs. But you hold them open with your free hand, not letting her escape the stimulation.
"I thought you weren't shy?" you tease, curling your fingers harder inside her. "I thought you could take what Minji couldn't?"
Those words seem to trigger something in her. Her eyes roll back as another orgasm crashes through her, this one even more intense than the others. She squirts so hard it sprays up your chest, soaking your shirt.
Only when she begs you to stop, you slowly withdraw your soaked fingers. She grabs your wrist before you can pull away completely, bringing your fingers to her mouth.
Looking directly into your eyes, she sucks them clean one by one, moaning at her own taste. Her tongue swirls around each digit, making sure to get every drop.
"Mmm," she purrs after releasing them with a obscene pop. "I taste good on your fingers,” she pants, pulling you up, “but I bet I taste even better on your cock..."
These words are enough to make you sit on the couch, Ningning jumps on your cock with desperate abandon, she adjusts herself on your lap and you feel the warm and delicious grip of her tight pussy. Her schoolgirl skirt fans out around her hips as she rides you, the pleated fabric barely hiding where your bodies join.
"Fuck, you're so big, I bet you need to be careful not to hurt Minji's pussy with that thick cock," she moans, grinding her hips in circles.
And it's true.
Each time you’re with Minji, that balance between careful tenderness and locked-up heat tears at you. And somehow, the comparison between the careful sex you have with Minji and the raw sex you're having now makes your cock throb harder inside her tight hole. Ningning notices, clenching her pussy walls around you.
"Does it turn you on?" she purrs, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. "Knowing you're stretching her best friend's pussy? Filling me up while she's working?"
You grab her hips harder, helping her bounce faster on your shaft. Her small tits bounce with each movement, nipples hard and visible through her thin white shirt. The whole schoolgirl outfit is disheveled now - tie loose, shirt unbuttoned, skirt hiked up around her waist.
"God, you feel so good," she pants, throwing her head back. "So much better than I dreamed about all those nights touching myself..."
Your cock twitches at her words. "You touched yourself thinking about me?"
"Mmhmm," she moans, grinding down harder. "Every time Minji bragged about your cock, I'd go home and finger myself imagining it was you... imagining you choosing me instead of her..."
She starts bouncing faster, her tight pussy taking your full length with each stroke. The wet sounds of her arousal fill the room, along with the slap of skin on skin.
"But the real thing is so much better," she continues, voice getting higher with pleasure. "Your thick cock stretching me open... making me take every inch..."
You can feel yourself getting close, the familiar pressure building in your balls. But you try to hold back, not ready for this to end.
"I can feel you throbbing," she teases, clenching her walls around you again. "Are you going to cum for me? Going to fill up my tight little pussy?"
The thought of cumming inside her makes your cock pulse dangerously. You know this shouldn't be happening, but her pussy feels too good, gripping you like it never wants to let go.
"Do it," she encourages, bouncing even faster. "Cum inside me. Give me what you give her..."
Your hands tighten on her hips as you get closer to the edge. She's riding you like her life depends on it now, taking your cock so deep you can feel her cervix with each stroke.
"One time when Minji was drunk and loose, she told me that you love creampie," she suddenly whispers, and your cock throbs hard at the admission. "Minji mentioned you have a breeding kink... that you love the risk..."
You try to lift her off your cock but she pushes back down hard, taking you to the hilt. "Don't you dare pull out," she demands. "I want to feel you flood my fertile pussy..."
The pressure in your balls is almost unbearable now. Every bounce of her tight pussy brings you closer to the edge. Your cock swells even larger inside her as your orgasm approaches.
"That's it," she moans, feeling you grow. "Give me your cum. Breed me like you want to breed her..."
With a groan, you explode inside her. Your cock pulses violently, shooting rope after rope of hot cum deep in her unprotected pussy. She keeps riding through your orgasm, milking every drop from your throbbing shaft.
"Fuck yes!" she cries out, grinding down hard as you fill her. "I can feel you pumping me full... marking me as yours..."
Only when the last spurt of cum coats her walls does she slow her movements. She stays seated on your cock, clenching her pussy to keep your seed inside her.
"Mmm, perfect," she purrs, leaning forward to kiss you deeply. "Now I'm going to keep your cum warm in my pussy all day... let it soak into my fertile womb..."
You can feel the tension in the air, a twisted mix of possessive satisfaction and something darker, something that feels dangerously close to obsession.
You give a low chuckle, tightening your hold on her hips. "About that," you murmur, watching her expression shift as the words sink in. "You do know I had a vasectomy, right?"
For a moment, she just blinks at you, her lips parting as the realization hits. "What?" Her voice is sharp, barely above a whisper, her brows knitting together in visible confusion.
"Yeah. Minji was the one who asked for it," you continue, watching every flicker of emotion on her face. "She said she wouldn’t let me come inside her unless I did.”
“B-but I thought that… The breeding kink…”
“Yeah, I like it, but you know Minji would never go for it. Well, maybe in the future... But at least I can cum inside her now, so that's a win.”
She bites her lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. Eyes narrowing, and, for a second, there is an almost obsessive tone in her voice. “So, you’re telling me… this whole time, all of this,” she gestures to herself, still seated on you, your cum mixed with her juices already leaking down her sweaty thighs, “has been for nothing?”
A smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth. "Were you actually trying to get pregnant?"
Ningning’s cheeks flush, and she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Pfft, no way. I'm not crazy! That was just dirty talk to turn you on. I’m not even in my fertile period,” she says, her voice forcedly nonchalant.
You arch a brow, skeptical. Her gaze wavers for a split second, and a strange feeling knots in your gut. For the first time, you notice that hint of danger in her gaze, something deeper and darker… or maybe it's just the image of your adultery reflected in her eyes.
—
Three weeks into Minji's trip, you're lying in bed with Ningning, both covered in sweat from another intense session. She's tracing patterns on your chest with her fingernail, occasionally leaning up to kiss your neck.
"I don't want this to end when she comes back," she says suddenly, propping herself up on one elbow to look at you.
"Ning..." you start, but she cuts you off with a kiss.
"Don't give me that bullshit about how wrong this is," she says against your lips. "We both know this is more than just fucking."
"What do you want me to do?" you ask, running your hand down her naked back.
"Break up with her." Ningning's voice is firm, no room for argument. "End it as soon as she gets back."
"I can't do that to her," you protest weakly. "I… I'm still in love with her. My feelings for Minji haven't changed… She doesn't deserve-"
"What she doesn't deserve is a boyfriend who's fucking her best friend behind her back!" Ningning cuts in. "Either you tell her, or I will."
The threat hangs in the air between you. You know she means it - Ningning has never been one to make empty threats.
"You'd really do that to her?" you ask, though you already know the answer.
"I'd be doing her a favor." Ningning sits up, the sheet falling away to reveal her naked body. "Better she finds out now than after you've wasted more of her time."
Before you can respond, your phone buzzes on the nightstand. It's Minji's mother, and your blood runs cold when you see the message.
"Minji's in the hospital," you read aloud, sitting up quickly. "She collapsed during a meeting. They think it might be her heart condition acting up again."
Ningning's expression doesn't change, but her eyes harden slightly. "Is she going to be okay?"
"I don't know. Her mom says they're running tests." You're already getting out of bed, looking for your clothes. "I need to call her."
"Of course you do," Ningning says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Run back to her like always."
You ignore her as you pull on your pants and grab your phone. Minji answers on the second ring, her voice weak but happy to hear from you.
"Hey baby," she says, and your guilt threatens to choke you. "Don't worry, I'm okay. Just pushed myself too hard."
"What happened? What are the doctors saying?" You pace the room as you talk, very aware of Ningning watching you from the bed.
"They want to keep me here for observation for a few days." She sounds tired. "But I should still be able to come home on schedule next week."
"That's good," you say, though your stomach churns at the thought. "Just focus on getting better, okay?"
"I miss you so much," she says softly. "I can't wait to come home and just be with you. Maybe we can finally start talking about getting married like we always planned."
The words hit you like a physical blow. Behind you, you hear Ningning scoff quietly.
"Yeah, maybe," you manage to say. "Get some rest, okay? I love you."
Those beautiful words seem to have a sarcastic connotation coming from you now, reality seems to make sense again, your mind being taken over by reason, so logical and obvious, and with it, all you can think is: I ruined everything. After you hang up, you turn to find Ningning already dressed, gathering her things.
"Well, this should be interesting," she says with a cruel smile. "What are you going to do now? Marry her while fucking me on the side?"
"This has to stop," you say, running a hand through your hair. "She needs me right now."
"No, what she needs is the truth." Ningning steps close to you, running a hand down your chest. "When she comes back you will tell her everything or I will. And trust me, my version won't be kind."
She leaves you standing there, torn between desire and guilt, love and lust.
—
The next few days are torture. Minji calls or texts constantly from the hospital, full of love and plans for the future. Meanwhile, Ningning sends you increasingly explicit photos and videos, reminding you of what you'll be missing. And when you ignore everything she sends you: that's when the threats come back. Roughly speaking, it's like she has a double-edged sword, cutting you with both lust and guilt.
But you try to stay away from Ningning, to focus on being there for Minji, but it's like she has a sixth sense for when you're at your weakest…
The knock at your door comes just after midnight. You're lying in bed, unable to sleep, thoughts of Minji in that hospital bed haunting you. When you open the door, Ningning stands there in a trench coat, red lipstick perfectly applied, dark eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Miss me?" she purrs, letting the coat fall open. Black lace barely covers her tits, the lingerie leaving nothing to imagination. Your cock instantly hardens despite your best efforts to resist.
"You need to fucking leave," you growl, but your eyes are glued to her body. She knows she has you.
"Make me," she challenges, stepping closer. Her perfume fills your nostrils - sweet and spicy, nothing like Minji's soft floral scent. "We both know you want this."
"I hate you," you snarl, grabbing her arm and yanking her inside. The door slams behind her.
"Show me how much," she taunts, shrugging off the coat completely. The lingerie is even more revealing than you thought - just scraps of black lace held together by thin straps. Her nipples peek through the sheer fabric.
You grab her throat, pushing her against the wall. "You're a fucking terrible friend. Minji trusts you."
"And yet here you are, getting hard just looking at me." Her hand cups your erection through your sweatpants. "Face it - you like that I'm bad. That I'm nothing like sweet, innocent Minji."
"Shut up," you growl, crushing your mouth to hers. She tastes like cherry lipstick and sin. Her tongue battles yours as she grinds against your hardness.
You bite her lower lip hard enough to hurt. She moans into your mouth, fingernails raking down your chest. Unlike Minji's gentle touches, Ningning wants to mark you, to leave evidence of what you've done.
"Fucking slut," you mutter, ripping the flimsy bra. Her tits spill free, nipples hard and begging to be bitten. You grab them roughly, pinching and twisting until she gasps.
"Yes, hurt me," she pants. "Do all the dirty things she won't let you do."
The reminder of Minji makes you even angrier. You spin Ningning around, shoving her face-first against the wall. One hand tangles in her long dark hair, yanking her head back.
"Is this what you wanted? To be my dirty little whore?" Your free hand comes down hard on her ass, the smack echoing through the room.
"Fuck yes!" She pushes back against you. "Spank me harder. Leave marks."
You rain blows on her ass until it's bright red, each strike punctuated by her moans of pleasure-pain. Your cock throbs painfully, straining against your sweats.
"Look at you, getting wet from being spanked." You rip her panties down, fingers finding her dripping pussy. "Such a filthy slut."
"Only for you," she purrs, spreading her legs wider. "Minji told me how gentle you are with her. But that's not what you really want, is it?"
"Don't talk about her." You thrust two fingers into her roughly, making her cry out. Her pussy clenches around them, cream coating your hand.
"Why not? She tells me everything about your sex life." Ningning rocks back on your fingers. "How you always ask to cum on her face but she won't let you. How you hold back because you're afraid of being too rough."
Rage and lust war inside you. You withdraw your fingers and shove them in her mouth. "Taste yourself, whore."
She sucks them clean eagerly, moaning around them. When you pull them out, spit trails from her lips.
"On your knees," you order, shoving her down. She goes willingly, looking up at you with those dark, knowing eyes.
You free your cock, slapping it against her cheek. Pre-cum smears across her skin. "This what you came for?"
"Mmm, I love choking on your cock." She licks the head teasingly. "She says you're so careful with her mouth, afraid of going too deep."
You grab her hair with both hands, ramming your cock down her throat. She takes it like a pro, nose pressed against your pelvis, throat contracting around you.
"Fuck, you really are a whore." You hold her there until she gags, tears streaming down her face. When you finally let her breathe, she gasps but immediately opens wide for more.
"Use my throat," she rasps. "Make me choke on it."
You fuck her face brutally, hips snapping forward as you force your cock deeper with each thrust. Spit and pre-cum drip down her chin, mascara running from her tears. She maintains eye contact the whole time, those dark eyes challenging you to go harder.
When you pull out, she's a mess - lipstick smeared, face covered in her own saliva. Your cock twitches at the sight.
"Get on the couch," you command. "Hands and knees."
She crawls there slowly while taking off her high heels, making sure you get a good view of her red ass and dripping pussy. Once in position, she looks back at you with a smirk.
"Going to fuck me like you wish you could fuck her?"
You answer with action, lining up and slamming into her in one brutal thrust. She screams, back arching as you bottom out.
"I wanna hear you scream," you growl, setting a punishing pace. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room.
"Yes, yes! Wreck my pussy!" She pushes back to meet each thrust, tits swaying beneath her.
You grab her hair again, pulling her head back as you pound into her. Your other hand comes down hard on her ass, leaving fresh handprints.
"Such a fucking whore, seducing your best friend's man." You slam in deeper, making her whole body jerk. "Bet you planned this from the start."
"Maybe," she pants. "Or maybe- fuck! - Maybe I just knew you needed someone who could handle all this."
You respond by fucking her harder, angling your hips to hit that spot that makes her walls clench around you. Her moans get higher, more desperate.
"That's it, make me cum on your cock!" She reaches between her legs to rub her clit. "Show me why Minji keeps you around!"
The mention of Minji's name sends fresh anger through you. You pull out suddenly, flipping her onto her back. Before she can protest, you're back inside her, pinning her wrists above her head.
"I said don't fucking talk about her." You bite her neck hard enough to leave marks, sucking bruises into her skin.
"Make me stop," she challenges, wrapping her legs around your waist to pull you deeper.
You release her wrists to grab her throat instead, squeezing just enough to make her gasp. Her pussy gets even wetter, cream coating your cock as you rail her.
"Is this what you wanted? To be choked while I fuck you senseless?" Your thumb presses against her windpipe.
She can only nod, eyes rolling back as her first orgasm hits. Her whole body convulses, pussy spasming around your length.
You don't slow down, fucking her through her climax and beyond. She claws at your back, leaving long red scratches that sting deliciously.
"More," she demands when she can speak again. "I want it all."
You pull out, cock glistening with her juices. "Get that ass in the air."
She quickly flips over, face down and ass up, reaching back to spread her cheeks. Her asshole winks at you invitingly.
"Another thing she won't let you do," Ningning taunts. "But I love it up the ass."
You gather her wetness on your fingers, working them into her tight hole. She moans wantonly as you stretch her.
"Dirty fucking slut," you growl, adding more fingers. "Taking it in all your holes like a proper whore."
When she's ready, you line up your cock with her asshole and push in slowly. The tight heat makes you groan despite yourself.
"Fuck yes, stretch my ass!" She pushes back, taking more of you. "Fill me up!"
You grab her hips, digging your fingers in hard enough to bruise as you bottom out. Her ass grips your cock like a vice.
"I'm gonna sink my cock in that tight little ass." You start thrusting, each movement making her moan.
"God yes! Harder!" She reaches back to spread herself wider. "Use me like the whore I am!"
You pick up speed, watching your cock disappear into her ass over and over. The sight is intoxicating - this perfect little slut taking everything you give her.
Her hand moves between her legs again, fingering her dripping pussy as you fuck her ass. The double stimulation has her trembling, approaching another orgasm.
"That's it, play with that wet cunt while I wreck your ass." You spank her again, leaving more red marks. "Show me what a filthy slut you are."
"So close," she pants. "Fuck, your cock feels so good in my ass!"
You reach around to pinch her nipples, twisting them roughly. That pushes her over the edge - she screams as she cums, whole body shaking.
Her ass clenches rhythmically around your cock, nearly making you lose control. But you're not done with her yet.
You pull out of her ass, flipping her over again. "Open that pretty mouth, whore. Time to taste your ass."
She eagerly takes your cock between her lips, moaning at her own taste. You fuck her face again, slower this time, letting her tongue work over every inch.
"Such a good little cocksucker," you grunt. "Born to take dick in all your holes."
She hums in agreement, reaching up to fondle your balls. The vibrations send pleasure shooting through you.
You pull out before you get too close. "On your back again. Want to see those tits bounce while I fuck you."
She spreads her legs wide as you mount her again, sliding back into her pussy. It's even tighter now after her orgasms, gripping you with a new creamy softness.
"Fuck me raw," she demands. "Make me feel it for days."
You grab her legs, pushing them back until her knees are by her ears. The new angle lets you go even deeper, your balls slapping against her ass with each thrust.
"Gonna fill this pussy up."
"No," she pants. "Want you to cum on my face. Paint me with your load like you've always wanted."
The thought pushes you closer to the edge. You've fantasized about this countless times - covering a pretty face with your cum.
Your thrusts become erratic as you near your peak. Ningning notices and grins up at you.
"Do it," she urges. "Show me what Minji's missing."
You pull out just in time, straddling her chest as she opens her mouth wide. Your cock erupts, shooting thick ropes of cum across her face.
She moans as you paint her, cum landing on her cheeks, lips, forehead. Some gets in her hair, more drips down her chin.
"Fuck yes," she purrs, licking what she can reach. "Mark your territory."
You keep jerking off to failure while admiring your beautiful work of art. Her face is completely covered in your cum, makeup ruined, lips swollen from sucking your cock.
"Fuck yeah," she growls, slurping up every fucking drop she can get her tongue on. “You came so much all over my face, baby."
"Look at you, you filthy little cumdumpster," you grunt, using your cock to spread the cum all over her face like a paintbrush. "Fucking beautiful.”
She looks up at you, a wicked grin on her cum-covered face. "Minji would never let you do this to her, would she?" she taunts, licking the remnants of your orgasm off her lips.
You keep spreading your cum, avoiding her gaze, the guilt gnawing at you. She grabs your wrist, stopping your movements. "Tell me I'm better than her," she demands, pulling your cock back to her mouth, licking the sensitive head.
"Don't fucking say that," you mutter, trying to pull away, but she holds firm.
"Tell me!" she insists, taking your cock deeper into her mouth, sucking hard.
You finally yank your cock away, getting off her abruptly. "No," you say firmly. There's a heavy silence as you pull on your pants and walk to the apartment door to open it and grab the coat she left in the hallway. "Get out!” you exclaim, throwing the coat at her.
“May I clean myself first, sir?”
When she comes out of the bathroom, you're a little calmer.
In fact, you're fucking tired.
“Why are you doing this to her?” you ask, the frustration spilling over, sharp and bitter. “She’s your best friend. Doesn’t any of this mean a damn thing to you?”
Ningning slowly sits on the couch to put on her high heels, taking her time. "Best friend?” she scoffs, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Minji’s no friend of mine. Hasn’t been for a long time. You think she even cares?”
You frown, trying to make sense of this mess. “You two were inseparable-”
“Were,” she interrupts, voice cold and dismissive. “Until she swooped in and took you right out of my hands.” Her eyes narrow, and she lets out a bitter laugh. “Do you even remember how we met? How I was the one who introduced you to her?”
You do remember, vaguely, those early nights working late at the bar, Ningning hanging around, laughing too loud, leaning a little too close. And then she’d brought Minji along one night, saying something about “my best friend, you’ll love her.” And you had, instantly.
She watches realization dawn across your face, her smirk deepening. “Yeah, that’s right. I brought her to meet you. She saw me with you and knew exactly what she was doing.” Her voice drops, bitter. “She knew I liked you. And then she went and did what she always does - takes what she wants without a damn thought about anyone else.”
You shake your head, but doubt nags at the edges of your mind. “She couldn’t have known-”
“She knew,” Ningning hisses, stepping toward you, her gaze fierce. “She fucking knew! But that’s Minji, isn’t it? Perfect little Minji, the one who can do no wrong. Sweet, innocent, perfect, while the rest of us scrape for her leftovers.” Her laugh is harsh, cold. “But guess what? She doesn’t get everything. Not anymore.”
The bitterness in her voice grates against you, hitting nerves you didn’t know you had. “You could’ve just told her,” you say quietly. “All of this - the stab in the back, the lies - none of it would’ve happened if you’d just been honest.”
She rolls her eyes. “You really think she’d care? Even if I had told her, she wouldn’t have given a fuck. She’s never cared about me. I was just someone to make her look better, someone to stand in her shadow.” Her voice drips with scorn. “She’s never really seen me.”
“So this is what, revenge?” you demand, voice hard. “Just because she didn’t fall over herself to make you feel special?”
She gives you a slow, dark smile, filled with satisfaction and anger. “Call it whatever you want. But you’re here, aren’t you? And every time you touch me, she loses a little more of that shiny perfect life of hers.”
"You're just a spiteful bitch. You don't deserve Minji's friendship.”
She steps closer, running a hand down your chest, voice low, almost a whisper. “And what does that make you? Huh? Besides a lying, cheating asshole? Minji’s so delicate, so breakable… shouldn’t you be taking care of her instead of - well - fucking me?”
You push Ningning away abruptly and point to the door. “Get out of my sight!”
When the door clicks shut, you glance back at the couch - a disaster of tangled sheets, a pillow on the floor, the lingering scent of sweat and regret. That couch… the same one where Minji used to kneel between your legs, her soft hands trailing up your thighs, her sweet, shy giggles filling the air whenever you teased her.
—
You stand anxiously at the airport arrivals gate, your heart pounding as you wait to see Minji again after a month apart. Your hands are sweaty and trembling - not just from excitement to reunite with your girlfriend, but from the crushing weight of guilt pressing down on you. The past few weeks have been a living hell of secrets, lies and desperate late-night encounters that you know will destroy everything if they come to light.
Finally you spot her emerging through the sliding doors, pulling her pink carry-on suitcase. Despite being sick during her trip, she looks beautiful as ever in her oversized cream sweater and blue jeans. Her face lights up when she sees you and she runs forward, throwing herself into your arms.
"I missed you so much!" she exclaims, pressing her face into your chest. You hold her tight, breathing in her familiar sweet scent, trying to push away the intrusive thoughts of all the times you've betrayed her trust.
"I missed you too, baby," you say, and it's not a lie. You've ached for her every single day she's been gone.
Which makes what you've done even more fucked up.
On the drive home, Minji chatters excitedly about her trip, though you can tell she's tired from the long flight. She mentions feeling weak and dizzy a few times while traveling, which worried her given her heart condition. You listen and nod, but your mind keeps drifting to Ningning's latest threatening text:
"Time's running out..."
—
At home you're helping Minji with her suitcase, trying to act normal while your heart pounds with a mix of desire and crushing guilt. Her delicate frame moves gracefully as she organizes her clothes, and you can't help but stare at her perfect ass in those tight jeans. The same ass you've missed so fucking much this past month.
"I really missed you, baby," she says softly, turning to face you with those innocent eyes that make your stomach twist with shame. Before you can respond, she's in your arms, her soft lips pressing urgently against yours. The familiar taste of her cherry lip gloss floods your senses.
Her tongue slides into your mouth as her hands grip your shoulders. You can feel her whole body trembling with need against yours. "I need you so bad," she whispers between kisses. "It's been too long."
You pull back slightly, studying her face. "Are you sure you're feeling better? Your heart..."
"I'm fine now, completely recovered," she assures you, already working on your shirt buttons. "Please, I want you so much." Her voice is breathy with desire.
Your hands shake slightly as you help her undress. Each inch of exposed skin is like a dagger of guilt mixed with raw hunger. You can't stop thinking about how Ningning's skin felt under these same hands just days ago. But Minji's body is different - softer, more delicate, familiar like coming home.
Her breasts spill free as you unhook her bra, dark nipples already hard and begging for attention. You lean down to take one in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive peak as she gasps. Her fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer.
"Fuck, I missed your mouth on me," she moans. The pure love and trust in her voice makes you want to cry.
You worship her breasts with lips and tongue, trying to pour all your remorse and devotion into each kiss. Her skin tastes sweet and clean, so different from Ningning's musky perfume that still haunts your memories. You trail kisses down her flat stomach, dropping to your knees.
Her panties are already soaked through when you peel them down her legs. The familiar scent of her arousal makes your cock throb painfully. You spread her thighs wider, drinking in the sight of her pretty pink pussy that belongs only to you. Or at least, it should have.
"Please," she whimpers, hips rolling forward seeking your mouth. You don't make her wait, diving in to lap at her swollen clit. She cries out, legs trembling as you devour her like a starving man. And you are starving - for her forgiveness, her love, her pleasure.
Your tongue traces patterns over her sensitive flesh as she writhes above you. You slip two fingers inside her tight heat, curling them to stroke that spot that drives her wild. Her walls clench around your fingers as you pump them in and out.
"Oh god, right there," she pants. "Don't stop, please don't stop."
You double your efforts, sucking her clit while fucking her with your fingers. Her thighs begin to shake as she gets close. You can feel her pussy pulsing, drawing your fingers deeper.
"I'm gonna cum," she warns, grinding against your face. You hum encouragement against her clit and she explodes, crying out your name as she floods your mouth with her sweet juices. You lap up every drop, helping her ride out the intense orgasm.
When her tremors finally subside, you stand and kiss her deeply, letting her taste herself on your tongue. She moans into your mouth, hands fumbling with your belt buckle.
"I need you inside me," she breathes. "Need to feel you stretching me open."
You finish stripping as she pulls you toward the bed. Her small hand wraps around your rock-hard cock, stroking firmly. Pre-cum leaks from the tip and she uses it to lubricate her movements.
"You're so big," she purrs. "I forgot how perfectly you fill me up."
The praise makes you throb in her grip, even as shame burns in your chest. You remember Ningning saying almost the same words as she rode you. Push the memory away. Focus on Minji, only Minji.
You lay her back on the bed, settling between her spread thighs. Her pussy is still dripping from her orgasm as you line yourself up. You start to push inside but she stops you.
"Wait," she says softly. "I need to tell you something first."
Your heart nearly stops.
Does she know?
Did Ningning confess?
"I'm so sorry about our fight," she continues. "I should have talked to you about the trip earlier. I don't want you to think you're being left out. Can you forgive me?"
Relief floods through you, followed immediately by fresh waves of guilt. "Baby, no. I'm the one who should apologize. I was a complete asshole. I love you so much and I never should have..."
She silences you with a kiss. "It's okay. We're okay. Just make love to me now."
You push inside her slowly, savoring every inch as her tight walls stretch to accommodate you. She's so fucking tight after a month apart. Her nails dig into your shoulders as you bottom out.
"Fuck," she gasps. "So full. Move, baby, please move."
You start a steady rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before sliding deep again. Each thrust draws soft moans from her perfect lips. Her legs wrap around your waist, pulling you closer.
"I love you," you tell her between kisses. "Love you so much." The words taste like ashes in your mouth but you mean them with every fiber of your being.
"Love you too," she pants. "Harder baby, fuck me harder."
You pick up the pace, driving into her with more force. The wet sounds of your coupling fill the room along with her increasingly loud cries. Her pussy squeezes you a little tighter, so hot and perfect around your aching cock.
You shift angles slightly, hitting that spot deep inside that makes her see stars. Her back arches off the bed as she claws at your shoulders.
"Right there, oh fuck right there!" she practically screams. "Don't stop, gonna cum again!"
You maintain the angle, pounding into her g-spot relentlessly. Her whole body starts to shake as another orgasm builds. You can feel her pussy fluttering around you, trying to milk your cock.
"Cum for me baby," you growl. "Let me feel that tight little pussy cum on my cock."
Your words push her over the edge. She throws her head back with a cry of pure ecstasy as her walls clamp down hard. You fuck her through it, drawing out her pleasure as long as possible.
When she finally comes down, you slow your thrusts but don't stop. You're nowhere near finished worshipping every inch of her perfect body.
You pull out and flip her onto her hands and knees, admiring the curve of her spine and the perfect globes of her ass. Her pussy is dripping down her thighs, swollen and pink from your attention.
You slide back inside in one smooth thrust, both of you moaning at the deeper penetration this position allows. Your hands grip her slim hips as you start moving again, watching your cock disappear into her eager hole over and over.
"You feel so good," you groan. "So fucking perfect wrapped around my cock."
She pushes back to meet your thrusts, taking you impossibly deeper. "Love your cock," she gasps. "Fill me up so good."
You lean forward to kiss and bite at her shoulders, one hand sliding around to play with her clit. She's so sensitive after two orgasms that she jerks at the contact.
"Too much?" you ask, easing the pressure.
"No, don't stop," she begs. "Want to cum again. Please make me cum again."
You rub tight circles on her swollen clit as you continue fucking her from behind. Her moans get higher and more desperate with each passing moment. You can feel her starting to tighten around you again.
"That's it baby," you encourage. "One more time for me. Show me how good I make you feel."
Her arms give out and she faceplants into the pillow, muffling her screams as a third orgasm rips through her. You have to grip her hips tight to keep her from collapsing completely.
When she stops shaking, you carefully pull out and turn her over. She looks absolutely wrecked in the best way - hair a mess, lips swollen from kissing, skin flushed and covered in a light sheen of sweat.
You kiss her deeply as you slide back inside her oversensitive pussy. She whimpers into your mouth but wraps her legs around you, pulling you closer.
"I want to try something," she says shyly when you break the kiss. "Something we haven't done before."
Your cock twitches inside her as you wait for her to continue. She bites her lip nervously.
"When you cum... I want you to cum on my face."
The words hit you like a physical blow. Images of Ningning's face covered in your cum flash unbidden through your mind. The way she'd smirked and said "Minji would never let you do this to her, would she?"
You try to keep your voice steady. "Are you sure? You've never wanted that before."
She nods. "I've been thinking about it while I was away. I want to try new things with you. Want to make all your fantasies come true."
Guilt threatens to choke you but your cock throbs traitorously at her words. You kiss her hard, trying to convey everything you can't say.
You start moving inside her again, harder and faster now. She meets you thrust for thrust, getting into it despite her previous orgasms. Her hands roam over your back and shoulders as she kisses and nibbles at your neck.
"You're so beautiful," you tell her between ragged breaths. "So perfect. I don't deserve you."
She doesn't know how true those words are. Doesn't know the depth of your betrayal. But you pour all your love and remorse into every thrust, every kiss, every touch.
You can feel your own orgasm building as her tight pussy squeezes around you. The familiar pressure builds at the base of your spine. Your movements become more erratic.
"Getting close," you warn her. "Where do you want me?"
"On my face," she reminds you breathlessly. "Want to feel your hot cum all over my face."
You pull out with a groan and move up her body. She looks up at you with such trust and love as you stroke your cock above her beautiful face. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips in anticipation.
The sight pushes you over the edge. You cry out as the first rope of cum lands across her cheek. More follows, painting her lips, nose, and forehead with your seed. She keeps her eyes closed but her mouth opens slightly to catch some on her tongue.
When you're finished, you use your still-hard cock to spread the cum around her face, just like you did with Ningning. The comparison makes you sick but you can't help it. Minji looks even more beautiful like this - face covered in your cum, lips curved in a satisfied smile.
"Was that okay?" she asks softly, opening her eyes to look up at you.
You lean down to kiss her cum-covered lips. "You're perfect. Everything about you is perfect."
She giggles and reaches for tissues to clean up, but you stop her. "Let me," you say, grabbing a warm washcloth from the bathroom. You tenderly clean her face, pressing gentle kisses to each spot after you wipe it clean.
"I actually really liked that," she admits as you finish. "The way you marked me as yours..."
If only she knew. If only you deserved her trust and devotion. But you push the guilt down and pull her into your arms, holding her close as if you could protect her from your own betrayal.
"I love you so much," you whisper into her hair. "More than anything."
She snuggles closer with a contented sigh. "I love you too. I'm so glad to be home with you."
You stroke her back as her breathing evens out, exhausted from travel and multiple orgasms. Soon she's fast asleep in your arms, completely trusting and vulnerable.
You lie awake holding her, torn between overwhelming love and crushing guilt. The memory of Ningning won't leave you alone - the way she seduced you, how easily you gave in to temptation. You don't deserve Minji's pure love and trust.
You press a final kiss to her forehead before closing your eyes, praying that someday you'll feel worthy of her love again. For now, you just hold her close and try to forget everything except how perfectly she fits in your arms.
—
Suddenly there's a knock at the front door.
You wake up feeling a little dazed, but soon your brain reminds you of the hell you got yourself into. Your blood automatically runs cold - you'd know that aggressive knock anywhere.
"Ignore it," Minji whispers sleepily.
"It might be important," you say reluctantly, getting out of bed. You quickly pull on your pants while Minji wraps herself in a sheet.
Sure enough, when you open the door Ningning is standing there with a predatory smile. She's wearing a tight black dress that shows off her curves, her long dark hair falling in waves around her shoulders.
"Oh, did I interrupt something?" she asks innocently, pushing past you into the apartment. Her eyes rake over your bare chest and the obvious bulge in your pants from morning wood.
"Ningningie!" Minji calls happily from the bedroom. "Give me a minute to get dressed!"
While Minji is changing, Ningning corners you in the kitchen. She presses her body against yours, her hand sliding down to squeeze your still-hard cock through your pants.
"Miss me?" she purrs. "I know you've been thinking about me. About all the nasty things we do together."
You grab her wrist and push her away. "Stop it. This has to end."
She laughs. "You know what you have to do if you want it to end. Break up with her, or I'll tell her everything."
Before you can respond, Minji emerges from the bedroom fully dressed. Ningning immediately steps away, her demeanor changing completely as she hugs her best friend.
The three of you sit in the living room while Minji tells Ningning about her trip. You can barely focus on the conversation, too aware of Ningning's predatory gaze and the way she keeps "accidentally" brushing against you.
When she finally leaves hours later, you feel physically ill. You know you're trapped - there's no way out of this that doesn't end in devastating heartbreak for Minji.
That night, after Minji falls asleep, your phone buzzes with a text from Ningning: "Come over. Now."
You shouldn't fucking go. Every fiber of your being screams that this is wrong, that you should stay in bed with Minji's warm body curled against yours. But the threatening texts from Ningning make your blood boil - if you don't show up, she'll spill everything to Minji. That manipulative bitch has you by the balls and she knows it.
"Fuck," you mutter, carefully extracting yourself from Minji's embrace. Your girlfriend shifts slightly but doesn't wake. The guilt churns in your stomach as you slip on clothes and shoes.
The drive to Ningning's apartment is torture. Your hands burn from being pressed against the steering wheel, jaw clenched so hard it aches. When you knock on her door, she answers wearing nothing but a sheer red lingerie set, her nipples are clearly visible through the see-through fabric, and the tiny thong barely covers her pussy.
"You fucking bitch," you snarl, shoving past her into the apartment. "This is the last goddamn time. I'm done with your manipulative bullshit."
Ningning's red lips curve into a wicked smile. "Mmm, I love when you're angry," she purrs, pressing her nearly-naked body against yours. "You can take it all out on me tonight, daddy. I want you to punish me for being such a bad girl."
She produces a pair of metal handcuffs, dangling them from one finger. "I'll let you restrain me. Do whatever you want to me. Hurt me, use me, make me pay." Her voice drops to a whisper. "I know you want to."
Your cock betrays you, hardening in your pants despite your rage - or maybe because of it. Ningning notices and grinds against your erection. "See? Your body knows what it wants, even if you pretend otherwise."
With a growl, you grab her wrists and snap the cuffs around them, perhaps a bit tighter than necessary. She gasps but her eyes sparkle with excitement as you roughly shove her toward the bedroom.
"On the bed. Now." Your voice is cold and commanding. She obeys eagerly, lying back with her cuffed hands above her head. The red lingerie contrasts beautifully with her pale skin, but you're too angry to fully appreciate the view.
You climb onto the bed, straddling her waist. Your hands wrap around her throat - not squeezing, just resting there as a threat. "I should fucking choke you for what you're doing to my relationship."
"Do it," she moans, arching up against you. "Make me suffer."
Instead, you release her throat and roughly grab her tits through the sheer bra. Your fingers find her hardened nipples and pinch them harshly, making her cry out in pain and pleasure.
"Is this what you wanted, you manipulative slut?" You twist her nipples cruelly. "To force me here so I can hurt you?"
"Yes! Fuck yes!" She writhes beneath you. "I love when you're rough with me. So different from how gentle you have to be with precious little Minji-"
"Don't you fucking dare say her name," you growl, slapping her face. The crack of skin on skin is loud in the quiet room. A red handprint blooms on her cheek.
Ningning moans obscenely. "Sorry daddy. I forgot you don't like to be reminded of your girlfriend while you're fucking your side piece."
You rip her flimsy bra off, exposing her full breasts. Your mouth descends on one nipple, biting down hard enough to make her squeal. Your other hand roughly kneads her other breast, pinching and pulling at the sensitive flesh.
"Fuck yes, hurt me daddy!" she cries out. "Mark up these tits that you love to stare at when Minji isn't looking!"
Another harsh slap across her face silences her. "I told you not to say her fucking name." You grab her jaw, forcing her to look at you. "You're nothing compared to her. Just a worthless whore I'm using to get my rocks off."
The words seem to excite her more. She spreads her legs wide, the tiny thong doing nothing to hide how wet she is. "Then use me, daddy. Use this worthless whore's holes however you want."
Your hand travels down her body, roughly groping and squeezing. When you reach between her legs, you find her pussy absolutely soaked through the thin fabric. You yank the thong aside and thrust two fingers deep inside her without warning.
"Fucking slut," you growl as you finger-fuck her roughly. "Already this wet just from being manhandled. You're pathetic."
"Yes! Yes I am!" She rocks her hips, trying to take your fingers deeper. "I'm a pathetic slut who gets off on stealing other women's men. Punish me for it!"
You curl your fingers to hit her g-spot while your thumb circles her clit. But you keep the pressure light, teasing rather than satisfying. She whines in frustration, trying to grind against your hand.
"Please daddy, I need more!" she begs. "Stop teasing me!"
"Shut the fuck up," you snap, shoving three fingers into her mouth. She immediately starts sucking on them obscenely, her tongue swirling around the digits. "That's all your mouth is good for - being stuffed full."
You continue fingering her pussy torturously slow, bringing her close to orgasm before backing off. Her whole body trembles with need, hips bucking desperately. Wet sounds fill the room as you pump your fingers in and out of her dripping cunt.
"Look at you, so desperate to cum on my fingers," you taunt. "Such a needy little whore. I bet you touch yourself thinking about me fucking you like this while I'm in bed with Minji."
She moans around your fingers in her mouth, nodding eagerly. The admission makes your cock throb with anger and arousal. You withdraw your fingers from her mouth and pussy, making her whine at the loss.
"You want my cock, slut? Beg for it." You start undressing, watching her squirm on the bed.
"Please daddy, I need your big cock inside me! Need you to fuck me hard and rough, the way you can't fuck her. Want you to take out all your anger on my tight little pussy. Please please please!"
Once naked, you grab her hair and yank her head up. "First you're going to choke on it." You slap your hard cock against her face. "Open wide, whore."
She parts her lips eagerly and you waste no time shoving your cock down her throat. She gags and chokes but takes it like the experienced cocksucker she is. Tears stream down her face as you fuck her mouth brutally.
"This is what you deserve," you growl, watching your cock disappear between her stretched lips over and over. "Being used like the worthless cocksleeve you are."
Ningning moans around your shaft, clearly loving the degradation. Her tongue works the underside of your cock as you thrust, adding to the pleasure despite your anger. Spit and pre-cum dribble down her chin.
You pull out of her mouth, a string of saliva connecting your cock to her swollen lips. She gasps for air, face flushed and makeup smeared. "Thank you daddy," she pants. "Love choking on your big cock."
"Shut up," you snap, roughly flipping her onto her stomach. You grab her hips and pull them up, leaving her face pressed into the mattress with her ass in the air. The position strains her cuffed wrists but you don't care.
You tear her ruined thong off completely and spread her ass cheeks, exposing both her holes. Her pussy is absolutely drenched, cream coating her inner thighs. You slap her ass hard, leaving a red handprint.
"Look how wet you are, you fucking slut," you growl, running your fingers through her slick folds. "Getting off on being treated like garbage. Pathetic."
"Yes daddy, I'm pathetic! Please fuck this pathetic whore's pussy!" She pushes her hips back, trying to entice you.
You line your cock up with her entrance and thrust in balls deep in one brutal stroke. She screams into the mattress, her pussy clenching around your shaft. The wet heat of her cunt feels incredible.
"Fuck, your pussy is so tight," you grunt, starting to pound into her roughly. "Too bad it's attached to such a worthless excuse for a woman."
"Yes! Use my tight pussy!" she moans. "Fuck me harder daddy! Show me what a worthless whore I am!"
You grab her hair and pull her head back sharply as you continue drilling her pussy. The new angle lets you hit even deeper, making her whole body shake with each thrust.
"Is this what you wanted so much?" you growl in her ear. "To be fucked like the dirty slut you are? To have your pussy destroyed by another woman's man?"
"God yes! Love being your dirty little secret!" She pushes back to meet your thrusts. "I bet her fragile little heart couldn't handle those dirty words!"
You release her hair, letting her face fall back to the mattress. Your hands grip her hips bruisingly tight as you absolutely rail her pussy. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, along with her muffled moans and your grunts.
Her pussy gets wetter and wetter, cream coating your cock and balls. The obscene squelching sounds only fuel your anger - she's getting off so hard on being used like this.
You bring your hand down hard on her ass again and again, turning the flesh bright red. Each spank makes her clench around your cock as she cries out in pain and pleasure.
"Fucking whore," you pant as you pound her. "Taking my cock so well. Such a good little cumdump."
"Yes! I'm your whore! I belong to you. Your cumdump!" she babbles into the sheets. "Use me daddy! Wreck my pussy!"
You can feel her getting close, her walls fluttering around your shaft. But you're not ready to let her cum yet. You pull out suddenly, making her whine in protest.
"No! Please don't stop!" she begs. "I was so close!"
"Shut up," you snap, flipping her onto her back again. You grab her legs and push them up toward her chest, folding her nearly in half. "Remember this: you don't belong to me… And I'm not done using you yet."
You slam back into her pussy, somehow going even deeper in this position. She screams in pleasure as you resume fucking her brutally. Her tits bounce with each thrust, nipples still red and swollen from your earlier abuse.
"Look at you, taking my cock like a proper whore," you growl. "This is all you're good for - being a set of holes for me to fuck."
"Yes daddy! That's all I am!" She's nearly sobbing with pleasure now. "Just holes for you to use! Please don't stop!"
Your pace becomes punishing, hips snapping against her with bruising force. The headboard slams rhythmically against the wall as you pound her pussy. Sweat drips down your chest from the exertion.
"Gonna cum soon," she moans. "Please daddy, can I cum on your cock? Need it so bad!"
You wrap a hand around her throat, squeezing just enough to restrict her breathing. "You have to be a good girl if you want to cum."
The choking seems to drive her wild. Her pussy clenches around you even tighter as she gasps for air. You can feel her whole body trembling on the edge of orgasm.
"Please!" she begs when you ease the pressure on her throat. "Please let me cum daddy! I'll do anything!"
"Anything?" You slow your thrusts, making her whimper. "Even leave me and Minji alone?"
"N-no," she admits. "Can't give you up daddy. Need your cock too much."
You squeeze her throat again, harder this time. "Wrong answer, whore." You start pounding her pussy mercilessly, your own orgasm building.
"Sorry daddy!" she chokes out. "Please don't stop! Need to cum so bad!" The wet sounds of skin slapping skin filled the room along with her moans and whimpers. You could feel her getting close, walls fluttering around your cock. "Yes, yes yes! Gonna cum so hard for you!"
You keep the punishing rhythm, watching her writhe and arch closer to her peak. Her pussy drips, coating your cock in her arousal.
"That's it, Daddy, make me cum! I want to feel you fill me up when I do!"
But you have other plans. Just as her breathing hitches, her walls starting to spasm, you pull out completely. She cries out in frustrated protest.
"No! Please! I'm so close!"
You stroke your cock over her heaving body. "You don't deserve to cum, you manipulative bitch."
"Please! I need it! Need to feel you cum inside me!"
You aim your cock at her tits as your own orgasm builds. "The only thing you deserve is to be covered in my cum like the worthless slut you are."
She’s shaking, chest rising and falling as she watches, helpless. “No,” she whimpers, hips arching toward you, hands struggling against the cuffs. “Put it back in, Daddy, I need it-I need to cum- Cum with me, plea-” With a grunt, you explode over her perfect tits and stomach, thick ropes of cum painting her skin. She huffs in anger and frustration.
"You bastard! You ruined it on purpose!"
You get out of bed, satisfied with her denied pleasure. "I told you this was the last time. We're done."
She lies there panting, hands still cuffed above her head, covered in your seed. Her pussy is red and swollen from the rough fucking, cream still leaking out.
You unlock the handcuffs and start getting dressed without looking at her. The post-orgasm clarity brings the guilt crashing back full force.
You’re halfway into your shirt when her voice cuts through the room, honey-sweet and venomous.
"One week left." She leans back against the bed, crossing her arms with a satisfied smirk. "After that, I'm sending Minji a nice little video collection of us. And until then, you'll be here every night, and no more pranks on me!"
Your hands freeze mid-button, blood chilling. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Her eyes glint, sharp and dangerous. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve been recording us. Why do you think I encouraged you to drink over and over again until you forgot your name?” She lets it sink in, enjoying every second you look at her like she’s lost her mind. “I’m not stupid, and I know you’ll try to crawl back to her. And knowing her, after so much crying, she might even give you another chance. But with some beautiful visual proof of how much you were loving cheating on her, she'll hardly forgive you. Not when she watches you cum in my pussy while I scream your name.”
The anger bubbling up feels like fire beneath your skin. “You’ve been recording us without telling me? You’re out of your fucking mind, Ning!”
“Oh, I’m the crazy one?” she sneers, voice dripping with mock innocence. “And what about you? Lying to Minji, sneaking around to fuck me late at night?” She steps closer, all her rage and bitterness on full display now. “Don’t act like you’re some victim. You wanted this. Now it’s gonna cost you.”
Your hands ball into fists, trying to keep your voice steady. “This is insane. You really think blackmail’s gonna make me stay?”
“I just want her to know the truth,” she laughs, almost sweetly. “I want her to see what kind of man she’s clinging to. I want her to see you for the liar you are. And maybe - just maybe - she’ll finally understand what it’s like to lose something she thought she owned.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” you spit. “Minji never stole anything from you.”
She’s inches from you now, voice low and seething. “She stole everything,” she snaps, voice shaking with rage she’s clearly been holding back. “She was always the pretty one, the smart one, the good girl. The one everyone wanted to be around. And every time, people just forget about me.”
“That’s all in your head,” you say, shaking your head, voice cold. “Minji would never hurt you on purpose.”
“Please.” She snorts, a nasty smile twisting her lips. “She plays the innocent act so well, doesn’t she? Sweet Minji! Everyone’s favorite! But the second you walked into her life, she had to have you. Didn’t care that I liked you first!”
You laugh bitterly, stepping back. “You’re delusional.”
“Say what you want. You know I’m right.” She shrugs, looking at you like you’re a bug under her shoe. “Minji needs to learn what it feels like to be humiliated. And if you don’t break things off, she’s gonna get a front-row seat.”
You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. “This is all about you. About your fucking ego. You don’t give a damn about me or what happens to her.”
“Believe whatever makes you sleep at night.” She gives you a saccharine smile. “One week. I want you here tomorrow at this same time. And I think you better make me have at least four orgasms to make up for the anger you made me feel tonight... Now get the fuck out of here - I need to make myself cum!”
—
The next few days are exactly the same. You can barely eat or focus at work. You just don't sleep anymore. Minji notices something is wrong but you brush off her concerns, saying you're just stressed about a project.
Ningning keeps showing up at your apartment unannounced, finding excuses to touch you and whisper dirty things when Minji isn't looking. And at night? Well, there you are, in Ningning's room, fulfilling her whims, helpless and at the mercy of a maniac girl. During these days you couldn't find a way to tell Minji the truth. You know it will be the end of your relationship. Damn, you know this will destroy her, and there's no way this ends well, but even so, you keep putting off the truth... Suffering for the inevitable.
You feel like you're going insane.
Finally, the deadline arrives. You're sitting on the couch with Minji when her phone chimes with multiple notifications. "Why the hell is Ning sending me so many messages?” she asks with a chuckle, glancing at her phone's locked screen, showing only the number of messages and the sender. Your heart stops - you know what Ningning has sent.
"Wait," you grab Minji's wrist before she can check the messages. "I need to tell you something first."
She looks at you with concern. "What's wrong? You've been acting so strange lately."
You take a deep breath, knowing these next words will shatter her world. "I... I've been sleeping with Ning."
The color drains from Minji's face. "What?"
"It started when you were away. I was drunk and upset after our fight, and she was there..." You try to explain but the words sound hollow even to your own ears.
"How long?" Minji whispers, tears filling her eyes.
"A month. It... it kept happening. She threatened to tell you if I didn't leave you for her. I'm so sorry, Minji. I never meant-"
"My best friend?" she cuts you off, voice breaking. "How could you do this to me? Both of you?"
Her phone continues to buzz as Ningning sends video after video. Minji's hands tremble as she unlocks her phone and begins scrolling through the videos and photos.
“Babe, don't look…”
"How could you?" she asks, her voice breaking. "With my best friend? In our bed?"
"Minji, I'm so sorry," you start, but she cuts you off with a slap across your face.
"Don't!" she screams, stumbling backward. She throws her phone at the couch with such force that it bounces and falls to the floor. "Don't you dare apologize! When did this start?"
"Three days after you traveled," you admit, your cheek stinging. "It just happened, and then-"
"It just happened?" she laughs hysterically. "What, you just accidentally fell into her pussy? Multiple times?"
She picks up the phone from the floor, scrolling through more of the photos Ningning is still sending. "Oh my god, the kitchen counter? Where I make breakfast every morning? Our fucking couch?"
Her breathing becomes erratic, and she clutches her chest. You step forward in concern, but she holds up a hand to stop you.
"Don't touch me," she gasps. "I can't... I can't breathe…”
She stands up shakily, pressing a hand to her chest. Her breathing becomes labored and her face contorts in pain.
"Minji?" Panic grips you as she suddenly collapses. You catch her before she hits the ground, frantically calling her name as you dial the emergency number.
The next hours are a nightmare of hospital corridors and worried doctors. Minji's parents arrive and bar you from her room, though you can hardly blame them.
—
Days pass in a haze of guilt and worry. You call the hospital constantly for updates, but they won't tell you anything since you're not family.
Finally, after a week, you get a text from Minji herself.
"You can come see me. Room 412."
Your hands shake as you drive to the hospital. When you reach her room, you almost turn back, but you force yourself to knock.
"Come in," her voice calls weakly.
She's propped up in the hospital bed, looking small and pale against the white sheets. There are monitors beeping steadily beside her, IV lines running into her arm. The sight breaks your heart.
"Hi," you say softly, hovering by the door.
"Sit," she indicates the chair beside her bed. When you do, she studies your face for a long moment. "You look terrible."
"I haven't been sleeping." You lean forward, elbows on your knees. "Minji, I am so, so sorry-"
"Stop." She holds up a hand, just like before. "I don't want your apologies right now. I want answers."
You nod, prepared to tell her everything.
"Why?" she asks first. "Did I do something that ended up hurting you?"
“This has nothing to do with you," you admit. "I take full blame. Ning came to visit me as you asked, I was drunk, lonely and sad. She kissed me and I... I didn't stop her."
“If I'd called earlier and said I was sorry for the fight, would it have changed anything?”
“Minji, this-”
“Answer me with yes or no!” she exclaims and soon begins to cough.
“... Maybe. But it's absolutely not your fault."
“How many times did you fuck her?”
"It happened maybe... Twelve or thirteen times." Each admission feels like ripping open a wound. "She would come over, saying she missed me, and then..."
"And then you'd fuck her," Minji finishes flatly. "In our home. In our bed. While I was thousands of miles away, sick and missing you."
"Yes." There's nothing else to say.
"Did you think about me? When you were inside her, did you think about how this would destroy me?"
"I tried not to think at all," you whisper. "I knew it was wrong, but she kept coming back, threatening to tell you if I didn't keep seeing her."
“Let me see the messages.”
You hand her your phone and everything is there, from the first threatening messages to the most recent ones, the nudes, the multiple missed calls early in the morning, the promises… There was a certain obsession in it all, which made Minji feel bad, returning the phone to you in disgust.
"So you were protecting me, huh?" Minji laughs bitterly. "How noble of you."
"No, I was being a coward," you admit. "I was weak and selfish and I destroyed the best thing in my life because I couldn't keep my dick in my pants."
She flinches at your crude words but doesn't disagree.
"Do you love her?"
"No," you say immediately. "God no, Minji. I love you. Only you! What happened with Ning was just sex, just a horrible mistake that I would give anything to take back."
"But you can't take it back," she says quietly. "You can't undo what you did to me, to us."
Tears start falling down your face. "I know. But please, please give me a chance to make it right. I'll do anything."
"Anything?" She looks at you with those dark eyes that used to hold so much love. Now they're full of pain and disappointment. "Would you get on your knees right now and beg?"
Without hesitation, you slide out of the chair onto your knees beside her bed. "Yes. I'll beg, I'll crawl, I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make this up to you if you'll let me."
"I heard that conversation of yours," she says suddenly. “When you were talking to your mother on the phone about marrying me."
Your heart stops. You were planning to buy an engagement ring next year.
"I would be so happy," she continues, voice breaking. "I spent that whole month dreaming about our wedding, our future together. And the whole time, you were fucking my best friend in our bed."
"I'm sorry," you sob, grabbing her hand. "I'm so sorry, Minji. Please don't give up on us. Please give me one more chance."
She lets you hold her hand for a moment before pulling away. "I need time," she says finally. "When I get out of here, I don't want you at the apartment. I need space to think."
"Of course," you agree quickly. "Whatever you need. I'll stay with a friend."
"I'm not promising anything," she warns. "I don't know if I can ever trust you again. But... I still love you. God help me, I still love you."
"I love you too, baby," you whisper. "More than anything. I'll wait as long as it takes."
She nods, then closes her eyes. "I don't want you to call me baby. It's disgusting now... I'm getting tired. You should go."
You stand reluctantly, wanting to say more but respecting her wishes. At the door, you turn back.
"Minji? What about Ning?"
Her face hardens. "She was here a few hours ago. We had a private conversation about our friendship. Things that only concern the two of us. Of course, I never want to see her again."
You nod and leave, hope and despair warring in your chest.
—
Outside, the air feels harsh, almost judging, as if the world itself knows what you’ve done.
In the parking lot you see her: Ningning, draped across the hood of your car, wearing a tight red dress that seems inappropriate for a hospital visit. She flashes that sly, knowing grin, like she’s already the winner, already got you tangled in her web.
“Took you long enough,” she purrs, reaching for you, fingertips grazing your chest. “Now we don’t have to hide.”
You step back, swatting her hand away. “No. This isn’t happening anymore. We’re done.”
She laughs, a low, dark sound that echoes in the empty parking lot. “Oh, come on. Are you really going to give up on us just because you had a sad little chat with her?” Her eyes flash with that dangerous mix of pride and amusement. “I know it must have been hard. But now we can be happy together...”
“It was a mistake,” you say, cold. “I betrayed her for what? A few nights of-”
“Of what? Say it,” she cuts you off, stepping closer. “Of something you couldn’t resist? Or are you too much of a coward to admit it? We both know you wanted this as much as I did. You loved every second of it.”
“I don’t want it anymore. Don’t want you anymore.”
She laughs again. “You’re a goddamn hypocrite. You want to play the martyr now, pretend you’re a good guy?” She leans in, her face inches from yours, breath hot on your skin. “Please, you’re still that same bastard who kept crawling back for more. Don’t act like you’re suddenly above it.”
Her words make you want to flinch, but you stand your ground, hands clenched tight. “Maybe I was. But I’m done now. I don’t need you. I need to fix what I broke.”
“Wow, So is she willing to give you another chance? Okay, quite predictable. But you know why she didn’t yell, why she didn’t throw shit at you in there? Because she fucking knows she deserved it,” Ningning starts, her expression is kind of scary, as if she knows all the secrets of the world. “Yeah, she sat there, looking all wounded and pure, but don’t let that act fool you. She knew. She’s known all along, even if she’ll never say it out loud.”
You try to interject, but Ningning cuts you off, her voice rising, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Don’t give me that look! I'm not crazy! I saw it in her eyes when I walked in. That flicker of guilt, like she’s been caught, like she’s thinking, ‘Maybe I had this coming.’ Because guess what? She fucking did. She knew I loved you first. I’ve loved you since before she even knew your fucking name.”
She takes a step closer, jabbing a finger at your chest. “Do you know what it was like? Watching her swoop in with her sweet little smile, acting like she was all innocent and shy, when really, she was stealing what was mine? And I said nothing. I stood back, swallowed it, because, what, I was supposed to be the bigger person? Fuck that! She knew how I felt, and she still went for it. And she got you. She fucking won.”
Ningning’s voice cracks, but she pushes through. “And don’t think for a second she’s blameless. She played her part in this. She played you, she played me, and now she’s sitting up there in that hospital bed, acting like she’s some goddamn victim. But deep down, she knows. She knows she took something she never had a right to. And now? Now, she’s paying for it.”
Her words hang heavy in the air, and she exhales, running a hand through her hair like she’s trying to keep herself from spiraling further. “But the difference between me and her? I fucking own it. I wanted you, and I took you. I don’t hide behind some bullshit innocence or play the martyr. I go for what I want, and yeah, maybe that makes me the bad guy, but at least I’m honest about it.”
She gives you one last look, as if she's hoping that now you finally understand everything, her voice dropping, quieter now, but no less cutting. “She won’t admit it, but she knows. She deserved every second of this. But you know Minji. She’d rather die than let you see that, let you think for one second that she’s anything less than perfect.”
"You need help, Ning, you've created a whole fantasy in your head. Do you think you're that special to make Minji plot against you like this?”
She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Unbelievable. You’re pathetic. How can you be so blind and not see the truth? I'm trying to help you make the right fucking choice.” She spits the words at you like daggers. “You and I… we’re the same, whether you want to admit it or not.”
You shake your head, ignoring the pang her words bring. “We’re not the same, Ning. Not anymore.”
“You think you can just walk away from this? From me?”
“Watch me,” you mutter, yanking the car door open. The finality in your voice is ironclad, leaving no room for argument.
“You’ll be back,” she hisses. “You'll miss me when you realize who Minji really is. But then it'll be too late...”
But you don’t look at her as you drive off, leaving her alone in the parking lot.
And that was the last time you saw her.
—
Two months pass slowly. You move in with your friend, throwing yourself into work to avoid thinking about the mess you've made of your life. Ningning continues to send threatening messages, until you finally block her for good.
Finally, one rainy evening, your phone rings. It's Minji.
"Can we meet?" she asks without preamble. "Tomorrow at the café where we had our first date?"
Your heart races. "Yes, of course. What time?"
"Noon," she says, then hangs up.
You barely sleep that night, alternating between hope and dread. When you arrive at the café the next day, you're thirty minutes early. You order her favorite drink - vanilla latte with an extra shot - and wait.
She arrives exactly at noon, looking beautiful in a simple sundress. Your breath catches at the sight of her. She's gained back the weight she lost in the hospital, her cheeks rosy with health.
"Hi," she says, sliding into the seat across from you.
"Hi," you respond, pushing her coffee towards her. "I got your usual."
A small smile flickers across her face. "You remembered."
"I remember everything about you," you say softly.
She takes a sip of coffee, gathering her thoughts. "I've been doing a lot of thinking these past two months," she begins. "About us, about what happened, about what I want."
You wait, hardly breathing.
"I'm still angry," she continues. "I'm still hurt. What you did... it broke something in me that might never fully heal."
"I know," you whisper. "I hate myself for hurting you."
"But I've realized something," she says, meeting your eyes. "I don't want to hate you. I don't want to let what happened destroy all the good memories we have, all the love we shared."
"What are you saying...?"
"I'm saying... I think I can forgive you. Not completely, not yet. But I want to try."
Tears fill your eyes. "Really?"
"But," she holds up a hand, "there have to be conditions. First, we start as friends only. No romance, no sex, no pressure. We need to rebuild trust before anything else. If it doesn't feel right, then you'll disappear from my life."
You nod eagerly. "Of course. I'll do whatever you want, all at your own pace."
"Second, complete honesty from now on. About everything. One more lie and we're done forever."
"Absolutely," you agree. "I promise."
"And third," her voice hardens, "Ning is out of our lives completely. I'm sure she's still trying to contact you."
You pull out your phone and show her how you've blocked Ningning's number. "Already done. I haven't spoken to her since the hospital. She was waiting for me in the parking lot, thinking that suddenly we would be together."
Minji nods, satisfied. "She tried to convince me that you two were in love."
"What did you say?"
"I told her I saw the messages she sent you, threatening to tell me if you didn't keep sleeping with her." Minji's voice is cold. "She's not innocent. You're both guilty. But you told me you don't love her... Guess I can believe that for now. Oh, and after her mask fell off, I managed to convince her to delete all the videos she had recorded. I think the sight of me in a hospital bed touched her a little bit. No need to thank me."
You hang your head, shame burning through you.
"And," Minji continues, "you told me the truth before she could expose you. That counts for something, I guess."
"I should have told you sooner," you admit. "I was just so scared of losing you."
"And you almost did," she says quietly. "My heart literally couldn't take it."
You reach across the table, hesitantly taking her hand. When she doesn't pull away, you squeeze gently.
"I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you," you promise. "If you'll let me."
She looks at your joined hands for a long moment. "We'll see," she says finally. "One day at a time."
You spend the next hour talking - really talking - about everything that happened. She tells you how betrayed she felt, how the thought of you with Ningning still makes her physically ill. You tell her about the guilt that's been eating you alive, the sleepless nights spent hating yourself.
“I was looking at some wedding rings during my trip, just dreaming…” she says suddenly, catching you off-guard. “I was so happy, you know? Because I thought… I thought I’d found the one I wanted.” Her voice cracks, and she swallows, steadying herself.
The words sink deep, and your chest tightens. “Maybe someday… if we get there again, I’ll buy you the most beautiful ring in the world.”
She gives you a small smile. "One day at a time, remember?"
When it's time to leave, you walk her to her car. Before she gets in, she turns to you.
"I'm having dinner with my parents tomorrow night," she says. "Would you like to come?"
Your heart leaps. Her parents have refused to speak to you since the hospital. "Are you sure?"
She nods. "They need to see that I'm choosing to try again with you. It won't be easy - they hate you right now. But if we're going to move forward, they need to accept it."
"I'll be there," you promise. "Thank you, Minji. For giving me another chance."
She reaches up and touches your face softly - the first intimate contact she's initiated in two months.
"Don't make me regret it," she whispers, then gets in her car and drives away.
You watch until her car disappears around the corner, hope filling your chest for the first time in months. You know the road ahead will be difficult. Trust, once broken, is hard to rebuild. But you'll do whatever it takes to prove to Minji that her faith in you isn't misplaced.
Your phone buzzes - a text from an unknown number.
"Everything I did, I did for you," the message reads. "Hope you are happy with your choice. Don't say I didn't warn you."
You delete the message without responding and block the new number.
She'll have to give up at some point.
The only person you belong to now is Minji - if she'll have you.
As you walk to your car, you start planning how to win back not just Minji's trust, but her heart. It won't be easy, but nothing worth having ever is. And Minji is worth everything.
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shhhhHHHHHUTUPIDONTWANTTOTALKABOUTIT
-
The first time you sleep over Katsuki’s, it’s not long after he’s moved into his apartment with the rest of his friends.
Which is bold, the only one who doesn’t flirt with you any chance they get is Mina -mainly because she has her own place- but she’s always telling Katsuki that the minute you get bored with him, she’s there to swoop in.
But his friends waste no time in making sure to rile Katsuki up with cheesy pickup lines that mean nothing to you, but everything to him. He hates the idea of having his friends hit on you, but you’d be lying if riling him up wasn’t exhilarating.
You smile as you hear bare feet pad along the tiling of the kitchen, a massive presence looming behind you; it’s warm, loving, and you feel yourself relaxing at the closeness.
“Morning,” he rasps, arms wrapping around your waist. You smile and curl against him, tipping your head back to look at him.
“You hungry?”
“You didn’t have to make us breakfast,” he murmurs, pressing a loving kiss to the curve of your neck.
You mewl and bend your arm to wrap around him, “I know, I just wanted to do something nice for my man and his friends for being such good company last night.”
He grumbles, “don’t ever refer to my roommates as ‘good.’ Bunch of fucking menaces and creeps.”
“They can’t be too bad,” you hum, turning off the stove. God knows how long you’ll both be drooling with affection. “After all, you let me meet them,” you coo. “And you’d never let your little baby be put in danger.”
“Fucking hate when you call yourself that,” he snaps, spidering his fingers up your side. You squeal and shrink to the side, only to be met with pokes on the other. “Katsuki!”
“Don’t be a little shit and I won’t have to torment you,” he snickers. You’re quick to flick off the stove with what little movement your arms can give you while protecting you from tickles, and you duck as fast as you can under his caging limbs to escape.
He must like the challenge, because he lets you go, only to barrel after you into the living room. A small coffee table separates you both, and you’re at a standstill as you watch each other.
“Katsuki!” You giggle, making a sudden dart to try and throw him off your trail. It doesn’t deter him, like he’s able to predict what you’re going to do before you do. “Y-You’re gonna wake everyone up!”
“I’m not gonna do a fuckin’ thing,” he snorts. “You’re the one screaming and whining.”
“Am not!”
“Are too.”
“Am not!”
“Are too.”
“Are not-“
“I think it’s bold of you to argue with me instead of sprinting away.” He shrugs, making a dash for you and wasting no time in grabbing you into his big arms. You writhe and laugh in his grip, desperate to not shriek and wake his poor roommates. Giggles bubble wildly over your lips, and he hauls you back into the kitchen before plopping you onto the countertop, distant from the stove. You instinctively move your hands to card his blonde hair, and he leans in to steal the last of your giggles from your lips.
“How much time we got before breakfast burns?” He mumbles, hands smoothing up your thighs. Crimson eyes glimmer with mischief, and he bumps your nose with his.
You chuckle and shake your head, legs wrapping around his thick waist, “it was burning before you came in; I turned off the stove so it wouldn’t burst into flames.”
He snorts, “good.” One of the hands resting on the meat of your thighs comes up to grip your chin, “now I don’t have to rush.”
“Ew,” you giggle, but it dies as quickly as you said it when he connects your kiss, working his lips against yours in this own way, full of passion and love with just enough tease to have you whimper.
The hand on your cheek shifts down to rest on your delicate throat, dangling like a necklace. A subtle act of dominance to make you shiver.
“I love you,” you murmur against his lips.
“I love you more-“
“Ewwwww!!!”
“Who knew he had a weakness?”
“Lookin’ good, Dynamight!”
Immediately, Katsuki’s shoulders hike up as the shrill voices from his friends ring through the air. You let out a string of laughter while the other boys you were visiting peer around the wall of the apartment, Sero with a face of disgust, Kirishima with a playful understanding and Kaminari with a cheesy bite of his lip.
“I’m going to KILL YOU IDIOTS!” He barks, abandoning you to dash over to the trio, mainly targeting Kaminari and Sero, who sprint away as fast as they can. Kirishima chuckles and makes his way over to you, helping you off the counter with a sigh.
“How’s he ever going to keep being Number One if you keep doing this to him?”
You snort and elbow his ribs while somewhere in the house, Katsuki caught Denki, and the screams ring loudly in the walls.
“Shut up and help me remake breakfast, dickhead.”
#I MISSED WRITING FOR HIM U G H#bakugou katsuki#bakugou katsuki fluff#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki x gn!reader#bakugou katsuki x reader fluff#bakugou katsuki imagine#bakugou katsuki bnha#bakugou#bakugou fluff#bakugou x reader#bakugou x reader fluff#bakugou x gn!reader#bakugou imagine#bakugou bnha#bnha#bnha fluff#bnha x reader#bnha x reader fluff#bnha imagine#bnha x gn!reader#bnha x gender neutral reader#bnha x you#bnha x y/n#bnha x yn
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