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FREAKDAY — night version ⋆.˚
christian yu x reader (gn) / genre: vampire au, suggestive / warnings: blood mentions, bitting flesh, hint at oral, wc: 273 / r: 18+
< THIRSTDAY [m.list] SEXDAY >
“Christian, come on, we’re very late,”
You let out a loud sigh, seeing how the large vampire keeps biting the neck of what once was a young female maid. Christian wasn’t biting anymore, in fact, he was devouring the flesh of the dead girl ravenously.
“Christian, there’s more of that where we’re going” you repeat, leaning on the wooden door, arms crossed. The vampire grunts, taking a bite from the girl's neck, leaving her dry.
“Such a killjoy,” he said, taking his handkerchief and cleaning the corners of his mouth, licking his fangs and teeth with his tongue teasingly, before walking past you.
“I won’t even ask what the poor girl did, but couldn’t you wait?”
“Clearly not,” He turned on his heels, cornering you against the door. You chuckled, opening your arms and letting him slide his hands around your waist. “You denied me of a fuck before, I was, temperamental” he coos into your ear and licks your earlobe.
“We need to be at your brother’s castle by midnight, and there’s a corpse laying right there…”
“I’m the king, he will wait,” he grabbed your ass, making you buck your hips so your center was facing his. “And remember I can read your thoughts...”
In a blink, you could feel how he lifted you, as if you were light as a feather, and you were now outside in the nearby forest, deep between the trees, the misty leaves under your feet cracking. Christian pushed you against the oak tree, lowering down on you, dragging your bottom clothes impatiently. “Can’t promise I'll make it quick though, you owe me.”
@mingsolo. please do not repost/translate to other sites.
#dpr ian smut#dpr ian x reader#christian yu x reader#kvanity#christian yu fic#dpr ian fic#drabble#smut#vampire au#my fic#fic tag#christian yu / dpr ian
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Kiss Me and My Bones Turn to Ash
Synopsis: You get introduced to Mito in the worst way possible.
A/N: I love AU’s like this. This was a long time coming, but finely, this WIP is seeing the light of day after some long months. I tried to make it 5k words or less, but apparently, 7.3k is the smallest I can do. I hope DPR fans (and even nonfans) enjoy this little one-shot of mine. As always, much love, Jenn
Pairing: DPR IAN x Reader
Genre: Demon!Mito, Demon AU,
Word count: 7368
Warnings: dark themes, sacrificial themes, light BDSM, smut, blood, light gore mentioned, there is some dirty shit in here y’all. Mentions of drug-use
Your throat was raw and your skin ached.
Raw from screaming and attempting to struggle out of the many hands that gripped your arms and legs. Your one last shot at freedom echoing between cypress trees and an endless midnight sky. Multiple hands stripped away every last shred of dignity from your body until there was nothing left but tears that flowed freely down makeup smeared cheeks down to naked skin.
You were defenseless as these intrusive hands came by the dozens - yanking and pulling you down dirt paths deeper inside the forest.
It didn’t matter how your voice rose in a crescendo of despair; the fear worming its way deeper inside your gut. The small hope you’d held onto that someone - anyone - would save you died the minute your bloodied back met cool stone.
You continued to give them a fight as they spread you like a star across the midnight stone of their altar. You wouldn’t make it easy for them. While they treated you like something disposable, you knew your life meant something to you with all the moments you’d never see flashing wildly behind frantic eyes.
It wasn’t until the ropes cut painfully deep into the skin of your ankles and wrists that you felt the last grain of hope die in your chest. The prayers to whoever was listening, cracking one last time and washing out to silence as a wolf howled somewhere off in the distance.
No one was listening to the sounds of your prayers - or so you thought. It wasn’t until later you’d learned he’d been walking beside you, as they dragged you through dirt and rocks that cut into your skin. He watched and listened as you thrashed and cursed them with your own hatred bubbling molten hot beneath muscles and bone.
He watched and waited for the perfect time to peel free from the shadows and find his new home inside you.
Cloaked men came together to form a tight circle around the altar. Their arms raised up along with their voices in a deep chant that you swore made even the branches on the trees tremble. Was it Latin? Aramaic? The only ones who knew were the voices of the men and whatever god they were praying to.
You were trying to catch a glimpse around the edge of the hood of someone’s clock - was that Devin from microbiology? - when a knife started to carve shallow lines across your stomach.
A fresh wave of screams rose from your throat. The sound was lost inside the ominous chanting of men with hidden faces and the night. You knew your thrashing was pointless. You weren’t miraculously going to develop superhuman powers and Hulk your way free from your restraints.
So, with each descending cut down your abdomen you snarled, “Fuck you!” In their direction. Your fear was bleeding away into something carnal - something worthy of savagery. No longer did you want them to see you weeping for a God to save you. If you were dying, it would be with defiance in your eyes and skin in your teeth.
Another seething retort was flaring to life on your tongue when you noticed him, and that was when your world completely shifted.
You had to be hallucinating him. A sadistic trick of your own mind to find comfort in…what? He didn’t seem real. He couldn’t be. But there he was. Over the shoulders of these hooded men, at the backdrop of the forest, he paced around them. His eyes pitiless and empty except for what looked like a blue spark of flame. His thumb traced the bottom of a pouty lower lip with the top of his Cupid bow curling into something sinister. You were watching him - you’d seen him and for some reason it brought him joy. He seemed amused, whoever he was, and that amusement sent that blue spark into a flame that lit up the entire iris of his eyes.
He was handsome. The kind of handsome Roman sculptors looked for as a muse when carving into marble. You were willing to bet that there were dozens of odes and poems written just about him. Dark long hair framed his features and somehow made the pout of his lips more exaggerated. The edges touched the collar of his black trench coat that framed wide shoulders. Shoulders that spoke volumes of muscles that rippled with power and seduction: that left thousands begging for forgiveness for following any that wasn’t him. His jawline was razor sharp and the bones of his cheeks raised high. A part of you wanted to call him Apollo, but deep down you knew if he was a God he could only have one name.
Hades.
The chanting came to an end and with it the carving. You didn’t want to turn away from him - your lord of the underworld - but your curiosity took hold. You wanted to see what these bastards had done.
You didn’t yell or scream when you saw the drizzles of blood that ran like heavy syrup down your sides. The crudely cut shape of a pentagram carved into the soft flesh of your abdomen.
He could’ve done better.
It felt fucked up to think that way but you were all out of tears and if you were going to die you at least wanted it to look better than resembling a carved-up Christmas ham. The enter situation began fucked up from the minute you woke up inside a cell and only worsened with each passing hour. If only you hadn’t accepted that stupid invitation maybe then you’d be home in your room eating discounted Oreos and on to your next Netflix binge.
The regret built thick and thicker on your tongue until it made it impossible to swallow past the growing rage. Or maybe your throat was just raw from all the unanswered pleading you’d done - you were done crying. If you were going to die you refused to let it happen with fresh tears in your eyes.
You took in a heavy breath and let yourself grow rigid - hard and hollow - ready to curse them and show them your defiance. It didn’t matter if it was a pitiful last attempt at acting like you had any semblance of control. You weren’t going down begging.
“Fuck-“
You. That’s how it should’ve finished.
Instead, one of the hooded assholes - Jisoon from economics, it looked like - let out a gasp. If you were under better circumstances, you would’ve made fun of him.
“It’s you! Oh, my lord!”
His body collapsed down to his knees. His arms out in front of him in what he must have thought resembled reverence. In actuality, he looked more like he was afraid.
Groups of hooded heads turned to see what made their brother fall to his knees. Your own head included. You weren’t entirely sure why you needed to look. You knew he was there.
You’d felt him long before your eyes ever gazed upon him.
He manifested from darkness. The shadows cast down by the moonlight from trees, bushes, and rock slithered to create his form and once he was made he stepped out into the clearing. The second the group of eyes fell on his darkened figure they followed down on their knees. Their faces buried in the dirt where their praises fell from their lips to the soil.
“What are you praising? The dirt? Fuckin’ idiots,” you snarled.
If you’re going to worship something - someone - you look it in the eyes. Let them feel your devotion like a plague.
One of them looked at you then. His hatred was evident on his face. If he could, you were sure he would’ve spit on you. If you could, you would’ve strangled him with the rope he left you to die in.
“Dark lord - foul one - we bring you the offering that you have desired.”
Besides the long dark coat he wore underneath was a graphic shirt that reminded you of a Rorschach painting. Black designs flooded the white material until it took on different shapes. It was tucked inside black denim that hugged his thighs and dove inside black combat boots.
If he really was a demon he was not only the most ridiculously good-looking one out there, but self-consciously stylish.
Your head dropped back against the stone. Your wrists and ankles are still tightly spread and trapped by the ropes that hold you bound in place. You want to keep looking at him. The desire to look at him was overwhelming, but your body was too weak to fight the exhaustion of holding yourself up.
He walked calmly into the circle they created with you at the center. His eyes took you in and you swore you could feel the trail they took along your body. You felt a need so violent suddenly flash under your skin your wrists jerked against the rope. A whimper of urgency to plead with him to touch you almost escaped your lips, but you caught it and swallowed it back down.
A sexy smirk played across his lips. As if the son of a bitch knew what he almost made you do in a sacrificial circle with you as the main star.
Fresh anger brewed in your stomach and you were ready to spit it out at his feet when you blinked and he was just there. His hand clasped tight to your cheeks in warning as his obsidian eyes of flame met yours.
“I wouldn’t do that, little lamb.”
You would have told him to shove it if he wasn’t holding on to your face so painfully tight.
“Is this all you brought me?”
Well, that was fucking rude.
“Lord Mito- “
One of the hooded assholes from earlier began to rise from his knees. This guy makes himself the preverbal leader of this merry band of idiots. He was on his way up from a one-knee position when Mito stopped him. His only other free hand halted him in place.
At first, you thought it was nothing more than a gesture. He was staying still because his master instructed him to do so. It didn’t hit you that it could’ve been something else until you noticed his pale complexion begin to darken to crimson. The other hooded assholes now looking around in uncertainty and - something you truly enjoyed - fear.
“You come to me - like your parents - to make deals for your Ivy League tuitions with riches and recognition and you come bearing fruit from only one tree. You ungrateful roaches.”
With each word he spoke the boys began to writhe on the ground. Their identities exposed to you the way they’d exposed you to their treachery - naked and alone - to a demon for slaughter just so they wouldn’t need to try hard at life. Some of them you’d thought were your friends.
“We have more! We can get you more!”
“There are tons of these drunk bitches back at the house.”
More drugged women they meant. More women like you who were dumb enough to take their betrayal as friendship. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted revenge. It stoked the dying fire of rage that was left in your gut and made it new.
For a moment, you blinked, and your entire world evaporated into darkness. A part of you screamed as you tore your face free from his hands to stay put - to be a good girl.
What had being a good girl ever got you but sacrificing yourself until you end up on some fucked up altar in the woods.
You were surprised when Mito didn’t turn his grip tighter to hold you in place. He didn’t try to keep you in place and was willing to let you go. Your defiant eyes staring up into his that flashed with mirth.
“I have a better offer for you.”
Your voice was hoarse. Hours of begging for your life will do that to you. Now it felt like its own premonition. Maybe to begin again all of what held you back needed to be stripped away in fire and blood to show you what you were capable of becoming.
“Shut up, you whore.”
It was Carl - sweet coffee shop Carl - who lashed out at you then. His words full of a frantic need to keep you quiet. Mito’s head tilted in his direction giving Carl only a sideways glance before a hand moved into view. His middle and ring finger making a swift motion up sending Carl up into the air.
When Mito spoke the rich baritone of his voice grew darker. The night itself shifted back as if whatever words he hummed in Latin were more terrifying than what resided inside it. You watched as Carl tried to scream as his body contorted in an ungodly way. Blood pulled from the corners of his mouth and eyes with unspoken words gargling out his agony.
“I don’t expect any further interruptions, children” Mito snarled with Carl dropping in a twisted - and very dead - heap on the forest floor. “I smell a deal coming. Please, little lamb, continue.”
Your tongue flicked across your cracked lips. Your hesitancy dying off as soon as you watched his hungry eyes follow their movement.
“I offer you them.”
A crescendo of yelling rose as a wave around you. The men who sought to end your life with brutality did not seem to enjoy losing their lives the same way. How funny.
Mito made a swift turning motion with his hand and pulled it close to his chest. In the span of the same heartbeat it took to do it all the screaming stopped. He’d stripped them of their voice.
“If I wanted them I would have them.”
You shook your head hard once to deflect his claim.
“That’s not true. If that was the case, they would already be dead. Especially Carl. You’re stuck in some weird servitude thing. I bet you can’t even leave this area.” An unnatural cold wind rushed over your skin. It involuntarily caused your hands to grab at your bindings as a shiver ran across your body igniting it in goosebumps. “I can offer you all of them. All twelve of them along with my servitude and the release to feed freely as you wish until I’m dead.”
Everything appeared to grow still as his eyes searched your face. Was that excitement in his eyes? You couldn’t tell at first but realized the growing flames that seemed to leap up endlessly past his iris wasn’t because of anger. It was the thought of new prospects. A freedom to feed in a way he’d been denied after however long he’d been summoned.
Mito began to slowly lean down towards your face and you struggled not to turn away. The fire in his eyes created the illusion that you were falling further into hell and, maybe you were. Strangely enough - for him - you were willing to burn.
“You’ve got a deal, little lamb,” he breathed across your lips just before he crushed his mouth against yours.
You shouldn’t have thought of it as a kiss. It was visceral - every part of you fought against your ropes, digging the thread deeper into your flesh just to feel his pouty lips envelope over yours. The tip of his tongue moved across your lower lip, asking for entrance, and you gladly gave it.
You opened to him without hesitation and Mito deepened the kiss. He used his tongue to open you up further; cracking your lips and smearing it against his own. At the first hint of copper on your tongue Mito let out a moan that made you strain against your bindings. The sound was pure sin. It was the promise of pleasure and pain - of being torn apart and made anew.
When he tore his mouth away from you in a snarl, you almost screamed out in frustration, but the twelve hooded assholes who you’d offered up did it for you.
You couldn’t see all that well what was happening in the clearing around you. The sounds of screaming resonated back inside the night sky once more, but this time it no longer was yours. You listened as some ended abruptly while others gurgled around throats full of blood just before their end. The sound of flesh and thicker things landing with a plop on the dirt made your stomach flip. Splashes of blood rained down on you and you squeezed your eyes shut tight.
It felt like an eternity before the screaming stopped abruptly after the sound of a boot crunching the bones of someone’s neck. You could hear the wind move across the leaves and scatter them over objects - maybe bodies, maybe rocks - and branches. It became so eerily quiet that you wondered if the whole thing had been a dark part of your imagination.
Maybe you’d open your eyes and find yourself back inside the party. Your friend handing you a warm beer as you danced to a remix of some song that you didn’t know half the words too. It was a good thought - a great one, actually - but one you knew wasn’t going to be true.
When you opened your eyes a hurricane of emotion billowed up in your chest and threatened to release from your lips. Mito was floating above you, his eyes completely consumed with the flames that earlier had only shown like dying embers. Now, the fires were completely stoked by the souls of the corpses littered around you.
A devilish smile showcasing perfectly white teeth raised his lips as he watched you swallow down your fear. You could’ve sworn they all looked very sharp and pointy, but just like his eyes you watched as they all but disappeared. The only thing left to show for what had happened was a naked torso covered in tattoos and streaked with blood.
“Are you afraid?”
You licked your lips as you tried to think of how to answer and watched as hungry eyes followed the movement once more.
“It depends on what you mean by afraid,” you answered him softly. “Am I afraid of being in your debt? No. Am I afraid of you? Yes.”
His finger dragged along your cheek and followed the curve of your face. You thought he would stop there and gasped as he traced it further down to your throat, over your chest, and to the curve of your breast.
“You’re smart to be afraid of me,” he replied huskily. His body was no longer floating above you but was now being held up by his own weight. “But I promise to take good care of you, little lamb as long as you promise to do the same for me in return.”
His head dipped to the curve of your neck to press a soft kiss just below your ear. The intimacy of the gesture wasn’t something you’d prepared for. You’d expected him to be brutal; to take without remorse. Instead, Mito pressed his lips softly against your skin as if to tell it a secret.
It didn’t seem possible, but as his lips glided down your throat and to the hollow of your collarbone an ache began to grow hot and molten in your blood. He placed one last kiss between your breasts before his tongue dragged a hot line down close to the carved flesh of your stomach.
You were aware of his hand as it crept up your thigh. Mito made sure he took his time with every inch his fingers took - tracing over the dips in your hip and over the mound of your pussy. Constantly he teased you - getting close and pulling away - and never let you have an inch of relief.
A whimper was rising in your chest. Your hands no longer docile as they struggled to loosen the hold of the ropes at your wrists just so you could lace your fingers roughly in his hair. Mito’s tongue ran over the top point of the pentagram causing a hiss of surprised pain to rush past your lips. You wanted to move away from his wandering tongue as it continued to explore the open wound, but a strong hand held you in place.
Mito worked his mouth over the botched grooves of your stomach - cleaning up the last remnants of your fucked up night. A growl was growing louder deep within his chest, humming against your skin, just before he shoved his tongue brutally into the open wound.
The pain tore the air from your lungs. The scream you would’ve unleashed was stolen by silence and two thick fingers pushing themselves past your folds until they were knuckle deep inside you.
You wish you could say that your body fought him - your thighs had clenched shut around his arm or your hips made it impossible for him to enter you. That he didn’t find your pussy dripping and eager for him. None of that would be true, however.
Your body accepted him like a zealot to a newfound religion, and his fingers pushing past your folds to fuck you had your hips rising up to meet him with devotion.
“Please,” you hummed.
You didn’t care that you were begging. You were ready to shout for him to go further - deeper - when he inserted a third finger. The feeling of your pussy stretching followed by the overwhelming sense of fullness caused you to buck against the rock. The movement forced your stomach up into his hungry mouth causing his tongue to go deeper into the cut.
The stinging sensation should’ve been enough to bring you back to your senses - a warning that this was fucked; you shouldn’t be enjoying this - but Mito made your body crave his pleasure through brutality.
His wrist began to pump his fingers in deep, curling and stretching you until you came impossibly undone. Every time he pulled back - his fingers entering you anew - he went impossibly deeper. His fingers curl enough to hold the breath in your lungs and tear it free when his thumb curved up and pressed down on your clit.
A wet squelching noise began to rise up around you. It was lewd - complete filth that mixed itself together with the sloppy sounds of his mouth hungrily cleaning up the dried blood surrounding the pentagram. Your cheeks would usually burn red hot with embarrassment at the sounds being made, but when Mito’s thumb began to apply pressure as his thumb rubbed small circles on your clit, fingers still fucking you, you couldn’t find a reason to care.
With a thick pop, Mito removed his mouth from your wound. Fresh blood - your blood - outlined his puffy lips. He made no move to go back to your chest or do anything. His fire filled eyes did not stop from watching as you writhed beneath him.
“Tell me: I want you to tell me to whom you belong.”
His voice was sin. It was sex - something ancient and primal that blossomed inside you like blood on a white shirt. It made your body needy as his thumb stroked in time with his fingers as they pushed inside your cunt.
“You - fucc it’s you.”
“You’ll do what I ask of you. No questions asked.”
His curled fingers touched something deep inside you. Something that clawed a mewling sound out from between your lips and made your body struggle anew against your restraints. You knew Mito wanted an answer. The irritation was creasing that pretty brow of his and making his hairline drop to greet them.
The same irritation stoked the flame in his eyes from cobalt blue to crimson. Mito thrusted his fingers one last time into you before he removed them. If he was trying to punish you he was too late.
That last thrust - with the hard rub of his thumb against your clit - sent you barreling over the edge. Your orgasm hit you violently and fast and you found yourself wetting the front of his chest.
“Dirty girl,” he huffed. “You got me all wet.”
He moved along your body until you were eye level. Your body was still trembling underneath him when his fingers laced themselves at the base of your scalp and pulled. A yelp leapt out of you as Mito’s free hand took hold of your jaw and held your mouth open.
You watched as he accumulated salvia at the edge of his lips. Your brain barely registered what he was doing until he spit it inside your open - waiting - mouth and forced it closed.
“Swallow.”
The demand was fire. A promise of punishment if you disobeyed. You wish you could’ve said it was disgusting. The taste of blood - your blood - and brimstone staining the inside of your mouth and coating your throat pissed you off. That you fought against him and told him to fuck off. In all actuality, it only made your cunt clench down on nothing.
Once you swallowed it you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue out just to show him you’d been good. Done as he asked. The gesture alone sent a devilish smirk to curl across those pretty lips.
“Good girl. Now let me hear you say it.”
Oh. Right. “I’ll do what you ask of me, Mito. No questions.”
“I expect you to hold up your end of our deal tonight, little lamb.”
“I always keep my promises.”
You were trying to sound cheeky. Instead, it simply came out breathless. Mito was still staring down at you like you held the world he wanted to destroy and fuck if it wasn’t making it hard to think past the growing heat between your legs.
Slowly, Mito lowered himself closer to you and only stopped when his lips hovered a mere inch above yours.
“That remains to be seen.”
The baritone of his voice whispering against your lips sent your body into hyperdrive. You were ready to beg him to fuck you when he dropped the last inch and placed a soft kiss at the corner of your mouth.
The sheer softness of it startled you. Your eyes went wide as he pulled himself off of you and finally your makeshift altar. He was moving around you carefree. His movements slow and careful as he picks up his shirt and jacket out of the viscera and carnage he’d strewn across the fall leaves.
“I’ll be seeing you soon, little lamb.”
This asshole! Now your eyes were wide for another reason. You reached your arms up as high as you could raise them before giving the ropes at your wrist a shake.
“Ugh, hello? Are you just going to leave me like this in the woods?”
Mito stopped at the edge of the clearing and regarded where you were like you were complaining about being in a five-star hotel. His shrug only set a fire to blaze in your blood.
“It did cross my mind.”
“That’s gonna be a huge no for me.”
“You mean, you don’t like being tied naked to a rock in the middle of the woods?” He teased, with an eyebrow cocked.
“Tempting, but no. Not in the slightest.”
“Very well,” he shrugged. “See you soon, little lamb.”
Mito disappeared back inside the darkness he was born from, and you were ready to scream. To threaten to take your deal back when you threw up a middle finger at his exit and realized the rope was gone.
Thank god - whoever - for spooky favors.
You weren’t a smoker - still weren’t - but if offered you took one. From curious bartenders, frat parties with social smokers, and the ever-present sleazy drunks who assumed you must be a whore pressed so close to the shadows of the brick buildings Mito liked to frequent.
The only whore you were was his.
Of course, you were sure the only reason you let the toxic trash touch your lips was the same reason you drank in excess when he was gone. You weren’t entirely sure when you first noticed it. The emptiness you felt at small pleasures you used to enjoy became a distant memory.
When was the last time you truly enjoyed a milkshake? A damn good Lumberjack-style breakfast or a warm cup of coffee? These days it seems you need multiple milkshakes to really taste the sweetness of the cream or the artificial flavoring of candy. You need dozens of pancakes and a mountain of syrup to even begin to feel full.
No. When Mito was gone there was no fulfillment in anything. You were a bottomless pit of wants and craving and the only thing that could ease the burden of that unfashionable emptiness was him.
At first, you didn’t want to believe such a thing could happen, but the more he stayed away the more you felt the black hole of longing begin to brew inside your gut. You wondered if anyone else could see it; the desperate way you tried to fill it. No matter what you tried nothing could ease the ache of nothingness until he reappeared. Your knight in his all-consuming darkness.
When he would simply appear from the shadows or come up quietly from behind you while you sat on a bar stool, his hands covering your eyes and a devious, “Guess who?” cascading down your senses, you felt whole again. Complete. A fucked up missing puzzle piece finally fitting back in its rightful place.
Maybe this is what it meant to be soulless. A hollowed-out version of who you were that only knew relief by the hands of the devil.
You spent weeks since that night at the party - from your little adventure in the forest - before you saw Mito again. When he finally re-emerged for the first time that night with his hands hovering over your eyes you didn’t need to hear the husk of his tone to know it was him.
Your skin had become feverish with a desire so deep it felt like you’d taken a sledgehammer to the gut at just the heat of him pressed against your back. All the life you’d felt slipped out of you day by day, everything you loved and that made you-you suddenly was coming back with blaring clarity.
The second Mito’s warmth retreated from your back, your legs were swinging the bar stool around to follow him. He was moving to sit in the empty stool next to you. His feet barely touched down on the grimy linoleum floor before you were on him.
You secured your arms around his shoulders and, to his apparent surprise, used the momentum of your body rocking into his to pull him towards you. You weren’t giving him a second to speak or deny you any longer. With a hand secured at the nap of his neck, and the other twinning inside the soft silk of his shirt, you crashed his pouty lips down on yours. Your tongue darting to trace a request for him to open up to you.
Mito didn’t make you wait long.
As suddenly as you’d taken hold of him Mito took hold of you - trapped you - in his arms. His kiss devoured you; ate and tasted up every whimpering plea his tongue stroking over yours coaxed from your chest.
You felt alive. You felt whole again.
Every sinew - every nerve of your body crackled with electricity, and as Mito’s hands glided up the back of your thighs you swore you could’ve become a storm.
The both of you had stumbled into the bars’ back bathroom. The door held together by makeshift locks letting you know the entire place heard every moan he’d torn from you as he fucked you. When his cock bottomed out - so incredibly deep - between your folds and left you coming all over the edge of the bathroom sink, you knew that the whole entire bar heard.
Later that night, Mito made two deals with two grimy-looking fucks. They weren’t into specifics of the deals they tried to make, and that was the thing about demons. Specifics. They were wordy bastards - great at mind games and twisting phrases and promises around until it sounded like a sweet deal, but the fine print was always missed. Needless to say, the two men had made their own separate deals that night. Neither one of them made it to see the sunrise.
After that night, Mito allowed you to travel with him. When you made yourself useful and found him unsuspecting souls full of grief and gluttony and, Mito’s personal favorite, rage. He particularly enjoyed the souls that looked sweet on the outside; soft and sincere sounding with their crosses around their necks. Underneath all of that tried-hard smile was something sinister; something Mito claimed to be the sweetest flavor of sin.
You weren’t sure how all of his deals were struck. You were positive the women, and some of the men, probably asked for the deal to be sealed with a kiss. Sex. Not all of them prefer a handshake and words of good faith. One guy, in particular, wanted the deal to be sealed with a little flame, making Mito do a weird magic trick of using his finger like a candle.
Yeah, that was a weird one.
None of them made it past a week. Some - if they were lucky - got a few months.
That’s how you ended up backstage in a band’s dressing room. You’d met the lead singer at a club they’d been performing at. He’d sauntered up to the bar pressing the crotch of his jeans against your ass and tried to play it off like he was just leaning against the bar - waiting for a drink just like you.
The dislike for him was instant.
You allowed yourself to listen to him ramble. His pickup lines were incredibly atrocious. He thought being in a band made him instantly fuckable.
The only way you saw out of your predicament was to play into it and invite him to meet Mito. There were four other members in their group - four other people to come along for the ride. It didn’t take long for you to excuse yourself to their dressing room so Mito could do his whole song and dance.
Show them he’s a demon and did his best not to freak them out. He was out there buttering them up. Five fresh souls for the taking.
Whenever he made a fresh deal Mito liked to fuck. You weren’t sure if it was the excitement of a fresh soul, or a fresh kill when a particularly delicious sinner sat down at his table was too good to pass up (here is where the word games came into play). Whatever it was, he came back to you in such a euphoric high the tattoos that painted his skin writhed like a living thing.
You weren’t complaining, not really. Your only complaint - if you had one - would be on those days when he’d made multiple transactions in a day. You cared very much when your overstimulated body threatened to rip in half as his cock pushed back inside your bruised walls; fingernails digging into the soft flesh of your hips. His teeth leaving impressions in the mounds of your breasts.
There was no doubt in your mind that he was going to come back in one of those highs. He’d warned you to stay put and that taking one foot outside the room meant punishment.
Mito wanted you close and easy to find. You, however, were growing impatient.
You hated how easy it became for him to read you, especially during sex.
There were times you enjoyed playing hard to please and Mito? Well, he enjoyed playing into it just to tear you apart and turn you into a crumbling mess beneath him. It was his way of reminding you that he owned you - mind, body, and soul - and while you continued to play your little games, it was only because he allowed the facade of freedom to dance like little sugar plums around in your head.
But there were moments he stripped those sugar plums from your head.
The first night he’d marked you had been in the dressing room of someone famous. It’d make you nervous to be around them not because of who they were - you would have cared less about their money and a false sense of infamy. No, it made your skin crawl to watch these people negotiate deals with Mito as if they were making a setlist. They were too stupid to realize they needed to read the fine print; to know that fine print was open to change whenever Mito saw fit.
You tried to wait like he’d asked, just like now, but the place made your skin crawl. You’d grabbed your bag and had just made it to the door, your hand on the knob twisting and swinging it open when - like Houdini - Mito was just there.
An itching sensation began to grow between your shoulder blades. One where you couldn’t tell if it was a warning, you just being antsy to flee, or an actual damn itch. Whatever it was, maybe you should’ve listened to the first part, but just the memory of being left alone - again - inside another dressing room left your brain pleading with you to flee.
Mito be damned.
You slid off of the couch and your chunky boots made a resonating thud inside the empty room.
Yup. Time to go.
The second your hand wrapped around the doorknob and pulled the door towards you flashbacks of that night replayed through your head at warp speed.
He didn’t seem surprised at your attempted departure. Instead, with an arm draped against the doorframe, Mito seemed like he was actually waiting for you to open it. A flurry of thought erupted in your head on how you could explain what you were doing - what he was seeing. You could easily tell him you��d sensed his presence at the door and were just trying to make it easier for him to enter. You knew, however, when reflecting obsidian eyes glanced down at your bag clutched tightly in your hands the jig was up.
“And where, little lamb, do you think you were going?”
“Mito I wasn’t-“
“And don’t lie to me,” he continued. His words over saturating yours as if he wasn’t finished talking to begin with.
His body immediately encompassed what small space was left between you, him, and your attempted exit. His pitiless eyes were still staring down at you - waiting for a response - while he closed and secured the door behind him.
You already knew the minute you saw him at the door you weren’t going anywhere. Now that he’d locked you in, sent your pulse racing with excitement or fear you weren’t too sure which was which. Lately, the two seemed to blend together.
He was pushing you back farther into the room; your feet backpedaling into a moment of peace before you knew what would happen.
“I was tired of waiting for you to get back. I was going out for a smoke.”
“I told you to wait here,” he growled.
“And I wanted a smoke.”
You wanted to sound unmoved by the fluorescent gleam of rage billowing up in his eyes. At any minute his left could wash over to the bleak white that promised he was minutes from breaking. The facade of playing a mere mortal man bleeding away until all that stood before you was Death.
You were so hyper-focused on him that you weren’t aware he’d backed you against the built-in makeup counter until your lower back came into painful contact with its edge. Just as a sharp gasp huffed from your lips Mito’s hand struck out - fluid and snake-like - to wrap around your throat. Constricting just enough to remind you it was there.
“Little lamb, I told you what would happen if you didn’t listen.”
He did. He’d told you many times. Mito even embellished his warnings like a tiny little nightmare meant to keep children from adventuring out into the woods.
Don’t go out there children. That’s where the wolf resides and he’ll tear you to bits.
You always were a whore for things with sharp teeth.
“You did, but I can’t help it,” your words gasped around his tightening grip. “You know I love to see if you’re a demon of his word.”
You watched intently as his eyes scanned your face. The Smokey trundles of white that began to billow up inside his left eye as his nostrils flared. A part of you felt victorious. A matching smirk was seconds away from sliding the corner of your lips upward until it was cut short.
Mito released his hold from your neck, his body moving back just enough to allow space for him to turn you around to face the mirror. His hips closed the few inches he’d given while he kicked your feet apart.
“You love being punished so much, don’t you, little lamb. Always testing your limits and one of these days you’re going to push too far.” As he spoke, his words curled at the base of your spine brimming with a threat that sent your heart thundering in your chest. “You’re so gluttonous for my punishment, let's see how you handle this.”
The reflection in the mirror showcased your uncertainty. Your brow creases with the weight of unspoken questions as to what Mito could possibly mean. For a split second, ice-cold fear encapsulated your mind that maybe this was it. Maybe your deal was done and he was finished with you.
That thought was ripped from your mind as Mito pushed your skirt up to your hips and a sharp smack of his hand against your ass brought you back to the present. Looking in the mirror, you could see his right eye was brimming with fire while the other had been completely consumed with white.
He pressed up against you to keep you trapped between his body and the counter. Mito’s eyes watching as you watched him begin to remove his jacket and then the colorful shirt that had lived underneath it.
No matter how many times you’d seen him naked, Mito never ceased to catch the air in your lungs. Your body forgot to register to breathe as you drank in the caramel tone of his skin and the museum of art that now slithered against his flesh. His muscles bunched and flexed as he tossed his clothes aside, and already you could feel the fabric of your underwear become soaked.
He dragged a hand from the base of your spine and slowly moved it up until his hand laced in your hand. His fingers twinning in its strands and pulling back hard enough to tear a scream from you.
With his free hand, he spanked you hard on the same cheek. The sting dulled out the momentary pain you’d felt.
“Tell me. Let me hear you say what you want.”
“I want you.”
Another hard smack against your ass left your hands scrambling for something to hold you up; anything at all. The only thing you logically seemed to find was the mirror itself.
“You know that’s not what I meant, little lamb. I know you want me. You’re soaking my clothes.”
Licking your lips, you caught his gaze in the mirror and held it. Your chest heaving as you struggled to get out the words you knew would ruin you.
“I want you-I want you to fuck me, Mito. My lord. My master.”
You threw in the last for fun. You knew he loved it when you used pet names for him. One that reminded you both of who - what - he truly was.
“As my slave commands.”
You weren’t about to correct him, because you were. You knew without him you were nothing and when he dropped to his knees in front of your cunt with his tongue pushing between your folds, you knew Mito worshiped you too.
_____________
Comments and reblogs are always welcome. Thank you for reading! XoXo
#dpr#khh#dpr ian#dpr scenarios#dpr christian#yu barom#christian yu#dream perfect regime#dpr ian scenarios#dpr ian x reader#christian yu x reader#christian yu smut#christian yu scenarios#dpr ian smut#khh scenarios#khh smut#demon au#mito is awakened#one shot
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Break from Reality 2 - C.YU
Pairing: Mr. Insanity X afab! reader
Genre: chaos & fantasy
Warning(s): some violence, bizarre imagery, mr. insanity has a god complex, mito is mentioned
A/N: Finally giving the people what they want since I saw a good handful of people enjoyed it, which makes me happy 🤍
A/N: Based on “So I Danced” MV so watch it if you don’t get the reference and if you haven’t read Part. 1
I’ll be God
I’ll be God
I’ll be God
I’ll be god today.
“Where did you even get this old thing?” You look at the very outdated 1968 Cadillac that he somehow “found”, the tan coloring chipping into a tin gray.
“Hey! Don’t insult her like that! She still works” Ian defended, blowing the remaining dust off the hood of the car.
“Where are we even going?”
“Emerald city. I have important business there and you’re gonna help me!” he beamed, startling you once more.
“Help you with what? I don’t even know you!”
“Exactly which is why it’ll work! He doesn’t know you so you would be a good distraction”
“He? Who the h-” “Heads up!” he tosses you a brown sack, which you nearly dropped because it was unexpectedly heavy. You look inside the sack, seeing a pair of black heels, pearls, and dark cloth.
“And what am I supposed to do with this? I’m not putting this on”
“Oh but you will” he tilts his head, his smile not dropping in the slightest.
“No I do-” you suddenly feel something cut off your airways, stopping your sentence as you try to breathe.
“Now what was that~? You’re in my world little one so you’re going to do as I say, got that?” he grins sadistically. You were on the verge of blacking out then you felt the pressure release, waves of air filling up your lungs, knocking you to your knees as you violently cough, your body readjusting.
“Now let’s get going!”
♟️
You both were now in the old-timey car, riding alongside the dirt road for god knows how long, finally getting on the road to Emerald City. You were not at all happy. You were in the passenger seat, sitting in a black satin dress with matching heels and pearls the same size as jawbreakers. He didn’t even tell you what the so-called “business” was. You were trying to think of conclusions that would make sense but anything was possible in this world, he’s magic after all. You see Ian in the corner of your eye. His eyes were on the road, driving with one hand on the wheel, the other tapping against the steering wheel to an imaginary beat in his strange mind but you were a quite confused yet worried because his face was resting, his cheeky smile that was imprinted on his lips wasn’t present, replaced with a blank expression. It felt.. Weird but you kept your lips sealed, silently thanking God that he didn’t talk your head off on the way there.
Your eyes begin to droop from exhaustion, having no way to tell what time it was in this place. Just as you begin to drift away, hoping to escape this vivid nightmare-
“We’re here~” Ian sings, his maniacal grin appearing back on his face. Your eyes shoot up, seeing an upcoming “Welcome to Emerald City!” sign ahead. You look outside the window, admiring the liveness of the city. The buildings were tall and flashy, hued with many shades of green from mint to the color of basil leaves. As you viewed the scenery, you saw a golden statue of a man up ahead. The man was dressed in a suit with a fedora, the hat covering his face as he was posed in a sitting position.
“Is that the mayor of this town?” You asked, not familiar with the man. Ian went quiet…
Too quiet.
“Hello? Did you not hear me?” You turn your head back to him, trying to figure out what was his problem but you were taken aback by his new appearance. His tan skin was now paler, his comically big eyes shrunk, his once lengthy black hair was now cut into a blonde pixie cut. His lips were tainted raspberry blue and he was wearing a lime green suit with mulberry polka dots.
What the fuck..
#spotify#fantasy au#mr insanity#wonderland au#christian yu imagines#christian yu#dpr scenarios#dpr ian#dpr ian x reader#dream perfect regime
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PoH!Raph references
He/they, 44years old, talks to himself to cope.
The changes he’s gonna go through is pretty big from the beginning of the story to the end.
Coming to terms with his loses, and finding hope in a empty world. It’s not easy but he’ll get there.
But what mysteries does his scars truly carry? Only time will tell. And me lol.
Back to the master post ☆ Chapter 1
UGHHH THIS TOOK ME FOREVER, I RE DID HIS DESIGN I BELIEVE 20 TIMES?!??? I’m gonna post the process later off my beloved man! Ahhh he’s beautiful😫🙌
#Seraph by DPR IAN is so them#Especially at the beginning#listen to the album while you read the comic it is my inspiration#Oh and the Fire force OST#PillarsOfHopeAu#SivArt#rottmnt#rottmnt future au#rottmnt future raph#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#artists on tumblr#rise of the tmnt#I made the file to large for tumblr to handle which makes it blurryyyyy#Two months of hard work! and it’s blurry😤 il my life#oh well I have to learn how to do this properly somehow#fanart#rottmnt fanart#artwork#sketch#art#drawing#rottmnt fandom#tmnt fanart#rise raph#riseofthetmnt#rottmnt raph#rottmnt future timeline#SoundCloud#Do not repost my artwork
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it took me one shot to make it nonstop
Tattoo Artist Getou Suguru X Reader
Summary:
You are holding your breath, heart pounding, body heating up. You have been hiding a secret from him and now he has you on your knees waiting for the consequences of doing such a thing. Even though his punishments may be harsh you would do anything for him. “So, can you be a good girl and follow my rules and instructions?” he asked. “Yes sir, I can,” you stated as firmly as you could with the feeling of slight sweat dripping down your back. “Only sir?” Fem Reader. She/her pronouns. Physical description vague. 18+ Explicit Content.
Rated E for Explicit.
Word Count: 13.8K
Tags: Alternative Universe (AU), Adult, Content, Dom/sub, Dom/sub play, BDSM, Light Bondage, Consensual Sex, Consensual Play, Use of Safe Words, Master/Pet, Dominant Getou, Submissive Reader, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Fingerfucking, Piss Kink, Golden Shower, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Choking, Oral Sex, Face Fucking, Rough Oral Sex, Biting, Marking, Cum Eating, Teasing, Orgasm Denial, Face Slapping, Face Sitting, Temperature Play, Degradation, Smut, Shameless Smut
A/N: I would do anything for this man. I swear. There is also something about AU Tattoo Artist Getou that just has been tickling my brain the last couple of years and I can't get it out of my head.
Also there is a golden shower part, but it is very short, you can skip it if you like. I marked the section off using ~~~~~~~~
Enjoy! Please give this one-shot some love by liking and reblogging.
You had been waiting for what seemed like an eternity. It had only been a few minutes, you realized as you watched the clock tick on the wall, your knees and shins seeping further into the cushion you were instructed to wait and kneel on. Every second felt longer, like sand falling through an hourglass.
Earlier, you had been told to send him a text back when you arrived home and to provide a picture of yourself in your current position. Once the picture was sent, you locked your phone and set it next to you. There was too much anxiety to even be mindlessly scrolling as you waited—and you knew he would be displeased to walk in and see you like that—but you kept the device nearby. If you somehow missed a message or call from him, you would be in much bigger trouble than you were already in.
You knew what you had done, and you honestly were not sure how you’d managed to keep it a secret from him for this long. With him being away on business and you taking your own vacation time, a month has passed since. It was not until this morning when you were both getting ready for work that he saw. You knew he did not want to get into a full conversation about it now, you both had your days ahead of you, so instead he complimented how good it looked pressing a hard kiss to your mouth and gripping your arm snugly above your elbow. He pulled away with a dark glint in his eyes, a slight smile tugging at the edges of his lips, “I will see you after work. Have a good day and be good, doll.” Pressing one last kiss to the top of your head, he stepped out the door. Fuck. You knew you would be in for it later today, but knowing him, it would be worth it. Your phone buzzed shortly after.
“Make sure to text me when you get to work <3”
You knew at that point today you would have to try and be extra good—you could picture him counting each and every rule you had broken and how he would punish you for each one, ensuring you would take it.
Before you knew it, the unlocking of the door tore you away from your thoughts about the events of earlier this morning, and your eyes immediately jumped to the door, hearing the key turn slowly with a click. In the doorway stood the man you had been waiting to see the whole day. He stepped through the entrance slowly, closing the door behind him. He placed his keys back in his bag as he hung it up on the rack. You remained quiet as you watched him bend over to unlace his black combat boots as he placed them next to yours. He went through the motions undisturbed, as if your heart wasn’t beating in excitement and apprehension. He finally glanced towards you as you remained still a little way from the entrance.
“So, can you be a good girl and follow my rules and instructions?” he asked.
“Yes sir, I can,” you stated as firmly as you could with the feeling of slight sweat dripping down your back.
“Only sir?”
‘Sir’ was a baseline for you two, and you simply assumed you were starting there because he usually had strict preferences for specific situations. You guessed today was the day you would have to call him more than just sir.
“Apologies, Master Getou. Yes, I can listen to your rules and instructions.” You respond back appropriately, gaze lowering to where his feet faced towards you.
“Well, you can follow most of them… eyes on me.” He commands.
Your eyes immediately snap to his deep purple ones as they grew darker, almost black. You swallow the saliva building up in your mouth. You knew he was going to be hard on you this evening, you just do not know how he would go about it. A silence forms between the two of you as you struggle to not break eye contact. He kneels down to get closer, making sure you still have to look up at him. He reaches his left arm out to you, brushing his thumb over your cheek, continuing the motion as he pushes some of your hair behind your ear. Fingers now brushed under your jawline to your chin where he cradles it, thumb tracing your lips gently. His stare pierces through you, trying to make you lose your composure. Although he knows he has to do a lot more to achieve that, it does not hurt to try. He finally breaks the silence, his voice low and speech articulate to make sure you understand every single word he says.
“Now, imagine this: I haven’t seen my precious darling in a month. I haven’t been able to hold you, kiss you, praise you, truly worship you. I haven’t even been able to have you over my knee, to bend you to my will, or to hear your cries and pleas of pleasure for a month. You followed most of the rules and instructions while we’ve been away from each other, but at some point, you went out on your own and disobeyed me, doll, and that hurts. You know I don’t mind what you do if there is a form of communication. So, tell me, why did you do it, hm?” he asks. You can see the hurt in his face as his eyebrows knit closer together, his lips curving down. You knew when you went to do that and not tell him, there would be a high chance he would react this way, but you had been willing to risk it anyway. He stopped caressing your lip but still held your jaw firmly, waiting for you to answer his question.
“Master Getou, I know I went against your rules—and I am deeply sorry for that—but I wanted to surprise you, sir. I wanted to show my devotion to you, I wanted to show that I am and will always be yours. I thought that, while we were apart, it would be a good time for you to see the commitment I have towards you, that we have for each other. I know this may break your trust, but I will do anything to regain it.”
“My precious doll, you are very good to me, but I will not ignore what you have done. We will talk this through, and you will accept whatever punishment I see fit, understand?” You nod your head. “Now get up and sit on the couch, I will be there in a moment.”
The dark-haired man gets up first, grabbing your phone from the ground. You both know at this point you will not be needing it, and he does not want any interruptions to occur. You wait for him to turn away as he heads towards the kitchen. When you hear him rummaging in the other room, you get up, making your way to the couch in the living room. Your body begins to tingle with excitement for what your Master could have in store for you. The one thing you have learned about him over the years is though he may get upset, he does not like to stay that way for long.
He comes to where you are sitting, two glasses of water and a plate of fruit in hand. He puts everything on the coffee table in front of the couch and sits beside you. You turn your head to look at him; you see him tapping his thigh and you instantly know what this means as you shift your body, placing your legs over his lap. He leans over your legs to the table, handing you a glass of water and putting the plate of fruit in your lap.
“Now drink up and eat. Once you are done, we will continue.” he directs you as he begins to take the socks off your feet. He began pressing his fingers into the top and bottom of your foot, making sure to hit all the right pressure points. Once he learned how much you were on your feet from your job, he always made sure, especially after long workdays, to be extra attentive towards them no matter what the two of you did in the evenings. It was a way he showed his affection to you outside the bedroom. He began to ask you how your trip was, amongst other things. For a moment, you were just two lovers keeping each other company. Occasionally, he would open his mouth, indicating he wanted you to feed him fruit as he continued to give you a massage. You had finished your water and most of the fruit on the plate; he turns to look at you, letting out a sigh.
“Now for the hard part, yeah?”
“Yes, Master Getou.”
“We’ll start with the small offenses. You did not make eye contact with me earlier when I was first talking to you, but I can let that slide. You lied at one point about where you were going or what you were doing while I was away. Then, you proceeded to not tell me about said thing you did for… what was it? Thirty days? It’s kind of impressive you kept something hidden from me for that long, but don’t be proud of that, okay? Now, onto the bigger things: not telling me you were getting a tattoo when your lover, your Master is a tattoo artist, a relatively famous one at that. I hope you did your research before you let just about anyone tattoo you. Which leads me to the next issue: having someone that I don’t know touch you for hours, permanently putting ink into your skin. The fact that it should be me marking up your body in more ways than one, and yet you took that away from me. Don’t get me wrong, doll, I’m not mad about you getting a tattoo, it is your body—but you took away from me the opportunity of doing it myself, as someone else’s hands were placed upon you. Let’s say it was because you wanted it to be a surprise; I still didn’t even get to help you pick the person to do it for you. I have colleagues and friends that I trust to do it… Anyway… did I miss anything?”
You could see the pain in his face; you did not fully realize how upset he would be. You did not think he would even want to ink your skin, knowing that it could cause you pain—and not in ways either one of you would prefer—but now you knew, and you would learn a lesson from this.
“No, Master Getou, you covered everything. Though, pardon me, you do know the person who tattooed me. I didn’t go to a stranger,” your voice was low, but you kept eye contact with your lover.
“You’re telling me someone I know tattooed you and kept it a secret from me? Who was it?”
“You mean you couldn’t tell by the work? But you saw it this morning?”
“Doll, I was more focused trying not to get angry than to look at the art, now who was it?”
“Please Master, please don’t get mad at them. I told them not to tell you, I begged–”
“You begged?” he questioned, cutting you off. Fuck. “You begged someone else? You know I am the only one you should be begging. I guess we can add that to the list too. My, my… you sure are racking them up, doll.” His voice had a slight enthusiasm to it as a dark chuckle built up from the back of his throat. You felt all the air from your lungs disappear as you heard him laugh, eyes wide. All your brain could process was this gorgeous man and how he was going to cause you so much pain and yet so much pleasure tonight.
Before you knew it, he had you in his lap, your legs straddling his, gazes meeting one another. His hands rested at your waist, gripping it slightly. His right hand trailed up your spine to the nape of your neck where his fingers threaded into the roots of your hair, pulling your head back. You try to keep your eyes open as they stare into his now obsidian ones filled with lust and anger, you wanted to admire their beauty, but his touch was starting to be distracting. He leaned closer, placing a kiss where the edge of your jaw met your earlobe. You then felt his teeth scrape where he just kissed you and then place another kiss in the same spot. The hand on your waist wraps around you, further pulling you closer to him.
“You know, doll, I am a greedy man. The thought of having someone’s hands on you as they hold a needle that penetrates your skin is making me go wild. Do you even know how much I want to be the person who does that? To be able to put my art onto your body? To have you in that way too?” He grunts into your skin. “Now, are you going to tell me who did that tattoo, or will I have to study it myself to figure it out?” He pulls away from you, fingers still threaded in your hair. You look him in the eyes, taking a deep breath as you gather your thoughts before you speak.
“Master Getou, I thought this through. I had to think of who would be the person who'd make you the least mad if I went to them to get this done behind your back. I know you trust this person more than anyone, considering they taught you everything you know, and did your first tattoo. I thought it was only appropriate to go to them.” You kept your composure together as you let out your last words, exhaling deeply, your hands still at your side. You want to reach out to him and kiss him, let him know that you hated hiding things from him, but he had not invited you to do so yet. You remain still. You could see the gears turning as he was processing everything you’d just told him. You cleared your throat to start speaking again. Getou’s eyebrow arched up, insinuating that what you were about to continue saying better be appropriate.
“Yuki also told me to tell you—and remember these are her words, so please be kind to the messenger—but she said, ‘I don’t regret doing this, and in fact, I would do it again. So let dear Suguru know to get off his high horse and if he wants to pick a fight, he can come to me and deal with someone his own size.’”
The man loosens his grip on you and begins to laugh. Your eyebrows furrow as you look at him, confused at his reaction.
“She really does know how to push buttons, doesn’t she… always has and always will, but I can’t deny that I respect her the most. I would say she is the only one that gives me a run for my money when it comes to a fight too. I’m surprised she even had time to take you in, considering she’s even busier now than when I apprenticed with her.”
“Once she realized who I was, she made sure to clear a spot for me as soon as she could. She specifically said, ‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to tattoo that punk’s significant other.’ Then proceeded to agree with me that she would probably be the person you would be least angry about tattooing me and considered it an honor I seeked her out. She really does have a soft spot for you, doesn’t she, sir?”
“That she does, only because I gave her a taste of her own medicine, and she did the same to me. I really did learn everything and some from her… Now now, let’s not get distracted. We haven’t even begun yet. Don’t get me wrong, I’m relieved you went to her and not some random person, but you still sadly broke my rules. You may get up and stand in front of me.”
“Yes Master,” you said with a slight smile on your lips. You lifted yourself off him and stood directly facing him.
“Shirt off.” You raised the fabric above your head and dropped it to the ground by your feet.
“Pants too.” You moved a bit slower unbuttoning your pants, dragging them down your legs and placing them where your shirt was.
“You know, doll, I like it when you are obedient. Now turn to the side so I can see dear Yuki’s work on you.”
You turn so Getou can examine your right side along your rib cage. You feel the tips of his fingers tracing around the tattoo, careful not to touch. You can see him out of your peripheral, face stern, almost unreadable as his eyes move slowly, careful to retain every line that was inked onto you. He was studying, taking everything in. You were doing everything in your power to remain still, but you want to know what he thinks of it; does he like it, hate it? You wish you could ask, the silence is almost suffocating as you try and focus on something, anything else. Your eyes are still focused on him, he knows it, and he finally glances up at you. His lips part slightly, then close again. You know he is trying to find the words he wants to say to you, but is not quite there yet. Instead, he asks you,
“When did Yuki tattoo you? How many days ago?”
“35 days ago, Master.”
“Hm. Have you gone back to see her?”
“She told me to come back after two weeks and then I saw her again a few days ago, right when I got back from being out of town. She normally doesn’t do checkups like that, but she knew if it didn’t heal properly or seem up to your standards, she wouldn’t hear the end of it from you.”
“She’s not wrong, and what did she say? Is it fully healed?”
“Yes, it is. I made sure to follow her instructions thoroughly. She said you should send over her favorite bottle of liquor for how nice it turned out and how she made sure it was the exact match to yours.”
“Oh, don’t worry, she will be hearing from me later. Now…” He started as he grabbed your hips to turn you back to face him. “You make this so difficult for me, doll. I had plans to spoil and ravage you until the sun rises… and I thought you were so good…” He is smirking, you know he enjoys punishing you and you are not opposed to it, or you wouldn’t have been with him for this long. You do know that Getou can be mean when he wants to, and you have a feeling that though he may be pleased with the tattoo, he will not let you off this easily.
“…but you really didn’t live up to my expectations…” his left hand was gripping your hip as his right hand was trailing from your knee up to your thigh. Your face was starting to heat up, you were always amazed how his small touches could make your body react like it does even to this day. The hand moving up your leg moved between your thighs, reaching back to cup your ass. His arm grazes your clothed sex as he pulls you closer.
“So, I think thirty spankings, fifteen on each side, along with five markings on your body of my choosing, because,” He paused, smiling, “I will mark you one way or another. What do you think? You may speak.”
“I accept what you think is best for my punishments, Master.” you say, making direct eye contact with him. He grips you tighter and kisses your stomach again, lips turning up, “That’s my good girl. Now turn around.” He releases his hold on you as you face the other direction. At first, you hear rustling and movement behind you, then you feel him moving your hands behind your back. Something slips around each of them moving up to wrists, that’s when you realize from the smooth texture it’s his belt. The leather tightens around your wrists enough to make you feel your blood pump through your veins.
With a softer tone, he asks if they are too tight, to which you reply no. He turns you back around as he guides you to kneel on the couch next to him, helping maneuver your body so you are now laying face down across his lap. your head faces the side away from the couch, away from his body, from him. You knew this was just the beginning of Getou bending you to his will. You know you have to clear your head of all other thoughts so you can focus solely on your Master’s words and touches because failing to do so will have consequences. If there is anything the man whose lap you lay across hates more than rule breaking is unfocused, divided attention. If he puts in the effort to pay attention to you, your body, your needs, and your wants—then he wants the same from you. His fingers trail from the back of your neck down your body as he begins to speak again, this time his voice is sterner, and more articulate than before.
“Remember, thirty spankings. I will expect you to count each one of them with me. Fail to do so and we will start over. We will restart over, and over and over until you get it right. Understood?”
“I understand Master Getou..”
“Your safe words are?”
“Green, yellow, and red.”
“Good girl, not so stupid now, huh?” He smiled, brushing your hair condescendingly, “Let’s begin.”
Even though you prepared yourself for the first spanking, knowing it would probably hurt, the roughness of his hit still took you by surprise, a small gasp leaving your mouth as you uttered “One.” trying to ensure it was loud enough for him to hear over his own voice. You inhale slowly, another slap to your left cheek, “Two.” You can already feel the sting starting to form, but it lessens as you feel Getou rubbing your ass. His hand moves away again, inhale, you thought this time, feeling the sting on your right cheek, “Three.” you say as you exhale.
You made it to fifteen, his slaps weren’t as hard as you thought they would be, but they were precise. He had his other hand laced through your hair, occasionally rubbing your scalp, which helped you focus on your breathing.
“You’re doing so well my doll. So well, I think it’s time to take these off.” You feel his fingers slip into the waist of your underwear gripping them delicately as he pulls them down your body slowly. Your ass can feel the coolness of the room now, the feeling of being exposed has a chill run up your spine causing your body to shudder and your hands to move in your restraints. Noticing it, Getou reassures you.
“Shh, don’t squirm now, you have been cooperating so well so far. You don’t want to start over now, do you?” A loud smack echoed in the room; your body felt it before your mind registered the hit Getou landed on your ass. You knew his spanking was on the lighter side before, but the difference was drastic. Your mind finally caught up and you trembled out the words, “No, Master… sixteen.”
“I’m glad you’re still with me, but sadly that one will not be a part of the count…” he starts, you feel his fingers up your legs again trailing slowly just like his words, “…it’s good your mind can keep up…” his fingers are between your thighs now, you are doing everything to keep still, you can feel every single touch he has left on your body. “…because your punishment is taking up what I really want…” his fingers now grazing your sex, the vulnerability spiking further, you try to remember to breathe, to keep still. But it does not help as you feel two of his fingers pushing past your lips, gently rubbing, a deep breath leaves your lips, but before you know it the pressure of his fingers is gone, replaced by a dark small laugh that ignites your body. “Fuck you’re so needy already. Doll, this is a punishment. Yet, here you are being a greedy little slut.” He cooed, enjoying it so much, the sight of you, desperate for his hands and touches. “But it’s not fair for you to enjoy your punishment, not when your little act infuriated me—you went behind my back and disobeyed. Can you get that in your little head?”
“I understand, Master Getou. I am sorry.” you were partly sorry, enough to let him hear you apologize but not enough to not enjoy his punishment. Another loud smack echoes through the room. “Sixteen,” you choke out.
“Good. Then you will take whatever I see fit until I am satisfied.” You feel his hand meet your other cheek, your body reverberates from the impact, fully understanding his frustrations with you.
“Seventeen.” You gritted through your teeth,“Yes Master Getou.”
“You let someone defile you with their art, you should let me defile you how the fuck I want. Makes sense, right?” You can feel fury radiating off his body into yours as he lands another hit to your ass. The sting is more prominent since he is letting you feel the full pain each spanking.
“Eighteen. Yes, Master Getou, it makes sense.” You were not fully sure where he was going with his punishments, but you knew you would have to go with it as much as you could.
“Now, let’s finish this up, so we can move on, we have a whole evening ahead of us.”
You made it through the thirty spankings, but just barely. By the last five or so you knew he was putting his full strength into each hit to throw you off. There were points where the smacks landing on the full of your cheek vibrated through your body, making it hard to even say anything as you were more focused trying to blink away the tears building up in your eyes and keeping steady breaths. Getou lightly gripped your now red ass and massaged it for a moment as he loosened his belt that kept your arms bound behind your back. He then told you to stand back up, and you did slowly, trying to feel your legs again as the soreness from your behind began to spread and ache. You moved slowly as Getou watched your every move, observing how your body took his punishment so far, and yet still at ready to catch you should you lose your balance. You were proud to have made it through, so you straighten your back and stand in front of him, waiting for his next commands. Unwavering. Without getting up, he ordered you to hand him his glass from the coffee table.
After handing it to him, he quickly drinks the liquid. You admired how beautiful your Master was as the rays from the sun set shined through the window behind him. Part of the black locks he kept down absorbed the sunlight, he looked ethereal and at this point you knew you would do just about anything for him. He rose from the couch handing you the empty glass back for you to put on the coffee table. As you did, he stood next to you. He peered down and grabbed your chin between his thumb and index finger so you both were closer, he asked, “You still want more, look at you leaning into my touch. You really are insatiable.”
“I cannot help it, Master Getou.”
A short kind smile drew itself on his lips, “Good. Then, follow me.” He says, letting go of your chin as he turns around and walks past the kitchen towards the bedroom. You followed him to the bathroom connected to the bedroom and stood where he told you too, while he turned the water on in the shower. He began to take off his shirt and at this point the only thing you could do was stare at him and think about how much you wanted to touch him, hold him, kiss him, run your fingers all over his body and make him yours.You could not help yourself and asked if you could help him undress, to which he replied, a fake nice look on his face, “No. Only obedient subs get to touch their Master.” He paused, “Which you have been nothing but..” He smirks knowing how much you want to help him, to gain any affection from him, but you were aware you had to be patient and work hard for him to calm down.
He begins to take off his pants and you continue to admire his toned body, adorned from head to toes with tattoos. You catch a glimpse of your matching one and admire it, loving to see how it matches yours exactly. You were so happy with how well Yuki really did to make yours the twin of his. He stands up straight up and looks up at you again. He steps closer, looking down at you, his face showing no emotion, then with one side of his mouth curving up he says, “Let’s not touch works of art, hm?” he pulls the rest of his hair down taunting you, knowing how much you want to thread your fingers through it. Your fingers are twitching ever so slightly by your sides, as the smell of him becomes more prominent with his hair framing his face, moving forward as he looks down at you.
“This.” he hooks his right index finger through your bra strap, pulling it, letting it snap against your skin, “It comes off. Then you step into the shower.” You unclasp your bra and drop it on the ground. You open the glass door to the shower and step in. You face the wall and the shower head, letting the water run down your body. The water felt so soothing on your sensitive skin, you let it run through your hair, cupping some of it and splashing it on your face, trying to get yourself to focus, trying not to think too much about how much you might have hurt Getou. You could see deep in his eyes how he wishes to have been the one to tattoo it on your pretty skin. Especially such a large meaningful piece like the one Yuki did for you, but to have it match almost exactly like yours meant a lot to you.
Of course, you know one day you will let him put his art on your body. You longed to be connected to him in that way as much as he did and it would mean so much to both of you, but it will come soon, for now you know that each of you will have to deal with the current circumstances.
All of sudden you feel an arm wrap around your waist and another on your upper body as a hand lightly grasps your neck. Then, a piercing sting was felt on your left shoulder. You realized it was Getou biting you and your eyes opened wide with a gasp leaving your mouth as water still poured down on you. You could feel his canines dig deeper into your flesh, almost breaking the skin. The nerves he hit spread down your arm and in your neck almost going numb. Before you know it you were moved facing the other wall away from the shower head, Getou still holding onto you. Your body is still warm, from where he is pressing against you, but freezing and making you shiver upon touching the cold tiles of the wall.
“I thought I would remind my doll that I. Am. Still. Here,” he whispers into your ear, causing a chill to run down your spine. You were so lost in your thoughts that you missed Getou entering the shower, not giving him eye contact, or even acknowledging him. Shit. “I am going to have fun defiling you. Marking you as I please…” He grazes his teeth against your skin before biting another time, this time more gently, “Claiming you back.”
“Yes, Master Getou.” your chest is heaving, recovering from the pain you felt in your left shoulder. He pulls you closer, nipping at your ear, his hips hitting your butt, causing soreness from his earlier ministrations.
“You did agree earlier that you would take whatever I would give you, doll. I’d be disappointed had you disagreed.” he snickers, front teeth digging into your neck. You let out a sigh, the pleasure so strong that it brought you right at the edge of the cliff. You were so close, but as you were about to reach your climax, it was ripped away from you as he bit down on the right side of the crevice where your neck and shoulder met. He ensures with the bite that he digs his canines deep into your skin. You are trying not to yell—you want to, you do—but your pride will not let you. You bite your own teeth into your lip to muffle the sound of any scream trying to be released.
“That shouldn’t hurt too bad. Didn’t you get a tattoo, one that took hours, on your ribs nonetheless. This should be nothing compared to that.”
He was not wrong per se, but the pain is different. The bites he leaves are sharp, fast, piercing. The tattoo took so long, with prick after prick, but at times you could dull that pain for a short bit. There is no way you can ignore this one. You know your Master wants you to react to every single punishment he gives you. He wants you to be aware of everything he does to you and your body. You feel his hand trail down your body and you wish it could stay like this, him holding you close, feeling every part of him as he feels you, but you know right now you cannot. He grabs your hips and shifts you so your back is now on the tiles of the wall. The shower head next to you, you can feel the droplets of water hitting the floor on your legs.
He still has a grip on your hips, his mouth now on your neck again with teeth slowly making their way down to your collar bones, going further to your breasts. He makes sure his body is not as close as it was before. The feeling of teeth along your now cool skin makes you shiver and roll your hips forward more into his hands. He pushes you against the wall more and you hear him scold you quietly. His right hand moves up your body, cupping your left breast. His warm mouth travels to meet where his hand is. You close your eyes and move your head upwards, anticipating another bite. He makes sure to avoid your nipples, aware of how sensitive they were. You were not prepared for the feeling of his teeth digging into your skin. You were careful not to bang your head into the wall behind you, but the pain took you by surprise, almost making you weak as you tried desperately to dig your fingers into something, anything to grab on to. You groaned, “Fuck…” Getou looks up at you, seeing tears fall from your closed eyes. This time, he licks and sucks at the bite, trying to soothe the pain, bracing your body with his other hand the best he could.
Getou kneels further down, balancing on one knee, his face level with your hips. He tells you to look down at him and you do. His hair is damp, his muscles tense as he positions himself below you. The subtle eye makeup he wears is starting to smudge, but makes him seem all the more intimidating. The way he looks alone is enough to drive you wild; if you were not in so much trouble already, you would grab onto him and push his face further in between your legs. He grips your right thigh, moving it further apart from your other one. He digs his fingers into your flesh more and grips your other hip again, making sure you are steady. He tells you to hold onto his shoulders and you do not argue with him as you touch him for balance eagerly. His tongue presses to the inner part of your leg and licks up. It tickles, but at this point any touches Getou gives you, you take. You realize how desperate you are starting to become. You just want to have this man already, but you know he is dragging out these punishments on purpose.
He starts pressing small kisses to your inner thigh, the tenderness feels so good, you had been waiting for such touches ever since you saw him again. With his warm lips on your skin, he could only hope to cover your whole body with his kisses. He sucks lightly on your plump skin giving it more licks, your stomach starting to tighten. You just want him to continue like this forever. Giving him a proper good look, you smile, thinking that he looked so good doing this, being yours. Seeing him like this, you only wish you knew what he was thinking. Was he as obsessed with you as you were with him? Was he as high on you as you were on his touch?
You tighten your legs on his shoulders as you feel his teeth bite the most prominent part of your thigh, shooting up your body like electricity. His lips forming a shit-eating grin, showing how content he was with his work so far. This time he ignores any response you have to his biting and moves to your left thigh.
Immediately he bites it, giving you no time to recover from the last one. This one he made sure was the biggest and deepest one of them all. He was still careful to not draw blood, but he made it deep enough for the bruise to start forming immediately. Your chest is moving rapidly from the pain Getou’s mouth and teeth has caused on your body. You are trying hard to not slip down onto the floor of the shower. You want to say you are almost at your limit, but you want to keep pushing forward, you really do. You need to show him you can be good, you need him to forgive you. You need him.
Getou would not shame you if you wanted to stop, but the fire that was forming in your body was craving more. You two had been away from each other for so long that you wanted to have him every single way you could. In and out, you tell yourself as you slow your breathing, guiding yourself to calm down your breathing. With just one look into Getou’s beautiful eyes, you let him know you are able to continue. “Atta girl.” he says, making your heart skip a beat.
He stands back up, glancing at your body and admiring his work. Quickly, your Master had your wrists pinned in one of his hands above your head and you felt two of his fingers dip to the opening of your sex.
“Insatiable little girl. But if you would take all that I give you…” You do, and you prove it by wrapping your lips around his fingers. He lets go of your wrists and grabs your waist to move you further away from the shower head. Now, you are in front of the ledge that is in the shower, back onto it. He pushes firmly on your shoulders, urging you to kneel down. Your eyes immediately shoot up to him when he says your name for the first time this evening, and even if he was being stern, you always loved the way your name rolled off his tongue. Your wide eyes meet his to make sure you are giving all your attention to him and once he knows you are, he begins to talk again.
“Now, I gave my pretty little doll water earlier, and I thought that might have been enough to hydrate you, but it seems you are still being a needy little slut. Good thing your Master loves to give. To provide, even. So keep your head up and eyes on me.”
“Yes, Master Getou.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Such a good little doll, yet so thirsty and Master is feeling a bit…” Sighs of pleasure. Then a satisfied smile on his lips.
It took you a moment to understand what was actually happening. But as you felt more warm liquid drip down from your neck onto your chest down the rest of your body, you realize it was not water.You could see the shower head behind Geto’s body, he was like a shield. The smell is what got you and made you realize he was peeing on you. You both have done many things before, but this was definitely a first. You had seen it on his list of kinks, it was on your ‘maybe’ and on his ‘yes’. You kept your head up the best you could trying to avoid any of his piss getting on your face. Unfortunately, some got on your mouth from it bouncing off your chest and you try not to flinch, knowing it could make the situation worse for you. Getou’s face is painted with a smirk, his eyes narrowed on you. His smug look alone makes your stomach flutter, you groan slightly, silently. How can he look so good while humiliating you in the worst way?
Finally, the warm stream comes to an end and all you can do is sit there, looking up at your Master. You feel disgusting, in shock, this was unexpected so why were you aroused? Why did this usually vile action of his make you close to begging for it again? Your body is covered in bruises, long-since-gone saliva and piss—you are now also starting to become sore as your body settles in a more comfortable position but cannot get past what happened. Pleasure rises in your body seeing how satisfied your Master looks and fuck, seeing him so pleased only turns you on even with his piss running down your body. If anything you are so happy to have made him feel like this you were ready to tell him to do it again. You would do anything for your Master.
“Oh fuck, you’re being so fucking good to me, my pretty doll. My filth all over you, it’s shameful, it’s degrading, it’s all mine. You are mine. You’re on your knees, covered in your Master’s piss, my fucking piss. Mmm, but it’s not enough.” He shakes his head, “Not for my insatiable girl.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He grabs the shower head from behind him and points it down on you. Your body jolts from the cold water hitting your skin, goosebumps beginning to form all over. You close your eyes as you feel him spray you down from head to toe, washing away the traces of himself on you. The constant change in temperature is starting to make your head spin as you try to focus on being in Getou’s arms.
You wonder if he will give you any relief. You wonder how much you must beg, ask for his forgiveness. You have hope he will be a little kinder to you, maybe he already forgave you after his punishments. The stream of cold water ends, your skin still feeling the icy prickles coursing through your nerves.
A hand wraps around your bicep, pulling you up to your feet. If it wasn’t for the help, you’re not sure if you’d be able to stand up due to the soreness settling in your body. He pulls your arms around his neck as he wraps his left arm around you, holding you in place. You feel him lean down to give you an open-mouthed kiss, his tongue slipping in to twirl around yours. His right hand wanders down your body, grasping at every curve. He moves both of you back until you feel your legs hit the ledge. He grips your hip, then moves his fingers between your thighs. He rubs one of the spots he bit you in, making you moan into his mouth from the dull pain it brings you. He presses your body closer to him as his kisses deepen more, lips pressing harder against each other.
His index and ring fingers begin to graze your outer lips and make your back arch. You can feel the wetness build up as he moves his fingers closer to your entrance, making sure to avoid your clit. You open your eyes and gaze at him through wet eyelashes as he looks down, smirking at you.
“Fuck, doll, no matter what I do, you are still wet for me. Begging for more with those doe eyes of yours. You really are my very own whore.” he says as he slips his middle finger inside, making you bite your lip. He continues to speak as he moves his finger in and out of you.
“I pissed on you, humiliated you, marked you mine and yet it still seems like that’s not enough!” He grinned, “You savored me marking you like a dog, I can feel how wet you are on my fingers. You really are enjoying my punishments, aren’t you?” he says mocking you, slipping his ring finger into you. You let out a whimper you were trying to hold in, his words making your body heat up again. His fingers stop.
“Answer me.” His face is serious, eyes glaring at you.
“No.”
“No? Careful, you’re missing something there.”
You did not call him Master, but replied, “No, I did not enjoy you marking me like a dog.”
“Are you sure?” He gritted through his teeth, “Because you have been wet since I started your ‘punishments’” He emphasized the word, both of you knowing it was nothing but. “You’ve always been rather the masochist, huh?”
“I just…” As you begin to speak, he starts moving his fingers inside of you again, now hitting the spot he knows that drives you wild.
“You just what, hm? Use your words, whore.” Between his words and fingers, you could only gasp attempts at words. Your Master truly knows how to really make you come undone.
“What Master likes, I will like. What makes you happy makes me happy—please continue, I need you. I’m sorry for what I did, I just–”” Your grip tightens more around his neck, you bury your face into his chest. Even though he loves it when you are begging, it does not make it any less embarrassing. He pulls his fingers out of you, interrupting the pleasure that was starting to build in your stomach. The arm that was wrapped around your body trails up, his hand at the nape of your neck, large fingers lacing at your roots, pulling your head away from his body.
“Then why did you let someone else defile you? You know I’m the only one allowed to touch you.”
“Because I wanted to surprise you. Yuki is your friend, she is talented, I knew she wouldn’t mess up—I knew she would make it match yours perfectly!”
“Are you saying that I couldn’t match it perfectly, that I don’t have the skill to make yours look exactly like mine?”
“No Master, don’t twist my words, I know you could have! You are beyond talented, it’s just—it’s just that Yuki tattooed your original piece, I thought she could tattoo mine” You paused, “I wanted that bond… I wanted us to have it.”
“You thought you should let her tattoo your first large piece instead of me?” Venom is lacing through his words. Before you could blink, he had you facing the other way, back towards him, your right leg now propped up on the ledge. He then enters you in one long push, knocking the breath out of you, making you put your hands out in front of yourself and on the wall to prevent yourself from hitting it. “Let’s refresh your memory and remind you who you belong to.” He said that as he wrapped his left hand around your neck, propping his right leg behind yours for more leverage, digging deeper inside you.
This made you gasp out of breath, having him already so far inside of you. It had been so long since you last felt him that you immediately clenched around his cock, instinctively. This landed you a smack on your inner thigh.
“Oh no no, you don’t get to enjoy this. I know my little pet is needy but this is for me. This is just for me. You’re my free-use hole tonight, okay?”” He says as he continuously moves his hips to match the emphasis on his words.
You try to focus on anything but the feeling of his cock moving deep in and out of you. Anything. Maybe the patterns in the tiles, the way your breath is hitching every time he snaps his hips against you, even the small grunts that get closer to your ear as he leans forward.
None of it however can distract you from how good his cock feels, grazing every part of you. Your stomach starts tightening more and more, aching for release as you try not to clench again, feeling yourself become wetter.
“Look at how my cock fills you up.” He emphasized each word once more, “It’s making sure your pussy knows who it belongs to.” He suddenly stops his fast rhythm to ensure you feel every single inch of him and you do. The hand around your neck moves down to your stomach, pressing down on it, intensifying the feeling of him moving inside of you. You are nearing your climax, wanting to release desperately. And desperate you were. You start to beg, eyes pleading, mouth barely forming any words.
“Please Master Getou, please, just let me cum. I belong to you, only you, please, please Master, please.” As you beg more, he picks up the pace again pressing harder against, ensuring there is no way you cannot feel him in every way. You are close, you know are gushing more around as you clench around him again. A wave is about to crash around you, then it immediately dissipates as you feel yourself now empty with a smack to your clit making you jolt, and cry out with the echo of Getou whispering, “No” into your ear. The feeling of his breath did not help, the pain on your used clit did. Your orgasm was gone.
You’re nearly crying from the sensitivity ringing through your body. You feel his warmth leave you as he moves away to turn off the shower, telling you to get out. Stepping out of the shower, your Master follows behind you, steering you to the bedroom. The cooler air hits your body, goosebumps starting to form on your skin. You try to keep yourself warm by wrapping your arms around yourself, but it does very little to help. Your eyes are met with his chest as he stands in front of you, your mind wondering what he could possibly do next.
His fingers are now on your cheeks as he pushes them together, making you pout as he directs your face to his again. Fear is curling up your spine as you can see his eyes so dark, finding difficulty in distinguishing where his pupils start and where they end.
“Tell me my doll did not try to go against my command. Tell me my fucking doll did not try to fucking cum.” The small curve forming on his lips with his eyebrows arching up sends a fire through your body that’s doing everything to stay still, gazing up at Getou.
“No, Master.” you plead. He tuts at your response. “Little brat is a liar too?”
“Please sir, I wasn’t going to cum without your permission, I promise!” You know it was a half lie, you almost did cum without him giving you permission, but being away from him for so long has made your body desperate for him.
“Now why are we lying? I know how your body reacts, how it feels, how to control it.” He pauses and gives you a tight smile, “To think you did not learn anything from my punishments….” His smile is wide, almost uncomfortably so, and the way it seems to sharpen at the edges runs chills through your body. It’s like a storm brewing, tense and unforgiving. The sting you feel across your face is like lightning striking down a tree branch, but unlike the branch, someone is there to catch your quivering body. His large hand settles deep in the back of your hair, with his other arm at the base of your ass, pulling you up. The change in position, being on your toes, keeps you alert, staring right at the eye of the storm.
Your Master is silent, his warm breath fanning across your cheeks with a smile. The tears that roll down your face cause your cheek to prickle more, your body throbbing from the stillness you can only hope to be released from. The wetness on your face increases, and you think there are more tears falling, but instead it is Getou’s tongue licking up your cheek, collecting every droplet from your eyes.
“Do you think those tears are going to stop me? If anything, it’s fueling me to teach you more fucking lessons. At least you’ll remember them. Or… we could try one last thing, are you listening?” He pauses, looking at you. You could only give him a soft nod. “A good girl equals a good fuck toy, a fuck toy does not fucking cum. So I’m going to use you again, and if you cum, well… You’re not going to like it if you cum.”
“Please…” you feel your voice falter, the strength you had earlier washed away by your Master’s continuous maneuvering of your body. “I’ll be a good girl, please, use me.”
“Is my little doll tired?” He asked rhetorically, pouting at you, “Good, you won’t give me too much of a fight then.” The grip in your hair is still tight as he makes you lower down to your knees, the tightness in your legs dissipating as you settle into the plushness of the carpet. The coldness in your body starts to numb down even as droplets of water continue to roll down your skin. You ignore the exhilaration pulsating in your limbs.
Your mind is further away, as if the storm swooped it in one go. Your thinking is slowed, eyes more focused on looking up at the stature of the man who fascinates your body. He tells you to open your mouth wide, and you do. The hand that isn’t threaded in your hair is holding his cock right in front of your mouth, an offering. Your mouth takes him as your tongue circles around it, stroking the underside of his head and pressing into his slit.
You hear Getou sigh, an indication of his enjoyment. He urges your head to go deeper, tongue coaxing the veins along the way. He pushes hard, your nose now grazing his happy trail; you feel your throat tighten up as you start to gag. He continues to hold you down until you can hardly breathe, tears coming out of the corners of your eyes.
He pulls your head back, his cock completely slipping out of your mouth as you start coughing, struggling to take in as much air as you could. Your eyes are wide when making contact with his, trying to look for any sign of approval. He lets go of your hair and taps your cheek, “I thought you wanted to be useful? You’re gonna have to loosen up that throat so I can fuck it properly.” You start to nod your head frantically in agreement; his hand is back on your head, shoving you down his length again. This time, he goes much quicker; you can’t help moaning as your lips wrap around him tighter, unable to do any other movement to please him. Almost losing your balance from the pace he has set, you place your hands slightly behind yourself, gripping the threads of the carpet. Your head tilts up, allowing for some relief to the pressure on your throat. He holds you down once more in place and now you can really feel the full length of him down your throat.
The soreness in your jaw is beginning to settle in. You try to ignore it, listening to the sighs he lets out. He pulls you away once again, your tongue dragging, making sure to feel every part of him. He grunts, “Fuck, it’s much better like this. You really are a fast learner.” He looks down at you and mocks, “It’s hard, isn’t it? To keep yourself from cumming, huh?” A pat on your head, condescending one, he adds, “But you don’t deserve it, I know it and you know it, right? You’ll have to work harder.”
He slides out of your mouth and you keep it open, eyes gazing up as you feel them glazing over, just like any of your conscious thoughts. The only thing you can do at this point is nod your head. The more he puts himself into you, the more you lose your composure. Words are becoming harder to voice; you let your tongue slip out slightly, wetting your lips. A string of saliva drips from your mouth and you see him smirking as he leans down closer to you.
He presses his thumb onto your tongue, letting the mess seep out more down your chin. His thumb follows the trail down your neck. “Look at you, being my good pet,” he says, leg wedging your knees further apart. You sink down further, flush to the carpet, leaning further back on your hands. “Put in the work and I’ll give you a treat.” He stands back up fully, inching closer to you, setting his hand on the back of your head again.
Your lips wrap around him tightly, eyes meeting his in an instant. You raise your eyebrows in an unvoiced question, and he nods in approval. You begin to bob your head up and down slowly, taking charge and making sure he feels your mouth on every part of his cock. You swallow him down all the way as you close your eyes and try to breathe. You feel him twitching as he lets out a groan, the wet sounds from your mouth getting even louder. You pull away, reaching your limit.
One large breath—that’s all the luxury you get.
The grip on your hair tightens again and you can barely keep up as he fucks into your throat faster. You do your best not to gag every time he bumps the roof of your mouth. Moans are flowing out of both of you, along with obscene, wet sounds. You close your eyes tighter as the pace increases, knowing he is close, forcing your mind to give in and go blank. Getou lets out a loud grunt, and you can feel him shatter. He cums into your mouth and you must remind yourself not to swallow it right away, to make sure you collect it all. He slips out of your mouth as more of his release drips to the corners of your lips, down your chin and neck, and flowing to your chest.
Your eyes slowly open. Through wet lashes you see your Master, chest heaving, eyes narrowed, and that cocky grin that always makes your stomach start to flutter. The hand that is not placed on your head runs through his hair as he gazes down at you. The glint in his eyes tells you that he is admiring his work. Opening your mouth, you stick your tongue out and present it to him, savoring the salty liquid before you are allowed to swallow. He leans over closer to you, your chest heaving as you try and catch your breath, managing to still prop yourself up with your hands. You see the string of clear liquid leave through his lips and fall onto your tongue, mixing in with his cum.
“Now swallow and enjoy every drop of it.” he commands, and you do as you feel his cum and saliva flow down your throat. Once you do, you stick out your tongue showing him there was nothing left. The hand that was behind your head moves to your face, his thumb rubbing your cheek as his index and middle finger on his other hand runs up your chest and neck, collecting the rest of his cum.
“Stupid pet, don’t waste the rest of your meal.” He coos at you, placing his fingers on your tongue with the sticky liquid. You close your mouth, wrapping it around them, tongue swirling around and ensuring you get every drop off. He looks at you with amusement as you clean off his fingers and once you do, he slips them out of your wet cavern. “Such a good, obedient whore for my cock.”
You nod your head and whisper, “I can do better, Master,” throat sore and raspy.
“Good to know, because I’m not done with you yet, I have much more to teach.” His voice is stern, mixed with excitement. Your eyes widen as you study his handsome features, but before your brain can register anything, he picks you up from under your arms and throws you over his shoulder, walking towards the bed. You are becoming dizzy from the blood rushing to your head; you let out a grunt as you feel your ass being slapped then groped by Getou’s large hand. Suddenly, you feel yourself being thrown, your back hitting the mattress, your body relaxing slightly as you lay there.
You feel the mattress dip as Getou climbs on it, moving his body to hover over yours. He begins placing wet kisses along your neck, going down to your chest. His lips are everywhere, kissing every bruise and bite mark along with your untouched skin. He goes down to your left breast, kissing it, his mouth wrapping around your pierced nipple. A moan leaves your lips, back arching, letting him wrap his other arm under you to pull you closer.
You can feel his tongue playing with the metal bar that goes through your skin, sending shivers along it. He pinches your other nipple as he continues to lick and suck at your left one. Another shaky moan is released and you can feel yourself getting wetter, clenching around nothing. Your breaths are getting heavier, wanting to curse him for how talented his mouth is, but it feels so good every single time.
“Already so worked up? I’ve barely done anything.” He grins, “Always so responsive, always so needy.” His words are sweet, but poisonous from how they affect you. His mouth is always affecting you, because all that he says has you feeling so many ways.
“Please Master…”
“Words.” He continues his licking and sucking. “No, wait,” He laughs, “Are you trying to rush me? Doll, I’m only getting started on my meal.” He bites down lightly at your right nipple, pulling at it, making you gasp. “Remember. This isn’t for you, and I’m gonna enjoy this at my slow, painfully slow pace. You may beg, but that’s alright. I enjoy some music while eating.”
He continues the torturous trailing of his tongue on your nipple and skin, now biting around it. Your hips start to roll, searching for any stimulation, and as they do, you feel Getou’s hand slide down your body, stilling them down. Your body shudders as he kisses further down, nipping at your sides. Sliding down further, he wraps his hands around the base of your ass and pulls you closer. He props your knees up, feet planted on the mattress, spreading them wide. He starts to plant kisses traveling up your thigh, biting at the inner parts. Your arms are above your head, fingers gripping into the pillow, the anticipation becoming unbearable.
Your whimpers grow in volume as he inches closer to your sex. He continues his touches on your leg and you try to not squirm, but it is nearly impossible. Your hips keep moving and he stops his bites on your thigh to berate you.
“Move and I stop. Understood?”
You let out a sound of acknowledgement and nod. He slides his fingers up stopping at the top of your inner thigh, your leg twitches slightly.
“How many times should I repeat myself? Use your words.” He continues to stroke his fingers along your thighs.
“I understand, Master.” your breath is shaky along with the words you try to push out from your mouth.
“Mmm, there we go… such a learning curve!” His smirk widens, the obsidian of his eyes shining as the sun is starting to set. The remaining rays cast through the window catch the darkness of his hair and eyes, clinging to it just as he clings on to you. Pulling at the small of your back, he drags you closer, spreading your legs wider. You feel the stretch go through your aching thighs, heels digging further into the mattress. He pulls you up slightly and places a pillow underneath, propping your hips up.
You see him on his knees between your legs, the last of the rays emphasizing each of his tattoos and muscles. Your breath hitches as you try to inhale deeply, acutely aware of the way his eyes scan your entire body as you are exposed to him, and for him only. Burning shame is painting your face and you try to hide it by turning it to the side, hand coming down to cover yourself. As you do, you feel his strong hand bringing yours over your head, clasping both wrists together as his other hand cups your face back to his.
“Stay… I want to see your every expression while you watch yourself drip on my tongue.“ He then smiles, “I will need you to tell me two things, but they’re one and the same, really. Who this pretty pussy belongs to and who’s making you feel like this—just repeat my name, you know, in case you’re too dumb to understand.”
“Yes, Master.” You say quietly, but you know he heard you as he leans away from you, letting go of your face and hands. He leans back again, gathering his long strands of inky hair, putting it back in a neat ponytail near the top of his head. You keep your eyes on him as his muscles flex, moving the strands of hair out of his face. He could be sculpted into a statue like this, you think, admiring his beauty as you prepare yourself to meet your maker.
He leans in closer between your legs, the tingling sensation spreading through your body with the tension of his skin brushing against yours. With a swift movement, he glides his index and middle finger along your center, barely applying any pressure. The goosebumps begin to surface as he swipes up again, gathering some of your wetness on his fingers. He brings them to his mouth, slipping them between his lips as he licks off your arousal. The moan that escapes you seems to be the fuel that ignites him as the last rays of sun dance gently in his eyes, knowing he has you as one the brightest shining stars. His fingers, now wet with his saliva, press and toy with your hole. He coos at you,
“I don’t know how much of you is going to be left once I’m done, because I sure am hungry,” the last part he says slowly, enunciating each of his words, still grazing his fingers along you. You want to beg, you do, but you know it would not change his course.
Finally, he bends down, licking a long stripe along your folds, tongue pressed flat and hard. You whimper from the warmth and sweet relief, but he still teases, avoiding your most sensitive parts. The tip of this tongue continues to move around as he sucks and kisses in between. Before you can process it, a loud moan rips from your throat as his tongue swipes up on your clit and lips suction around it. Your body pulsates in a never-ending rhythm, the pressure pooling in your stomach.
Your fingers itch to grip onto his strands, but you stop yourself from doing so. Instead, they spread out to each of your sides, nails clawing at the sheets as your back arches further. You can feel your arousal dripping further down you as you continue to moan. The man causing you so much pleasure does not miss it and moves his tongue to lick it up, making sure not to miss a drop. At this point, your neck is uncomfortably curved back, your eyes staring at the wall above you.
“Master Getou, Master Getou, please, please…” you start pleading to him, incoherent babbles as your hips rock into his face. His hands are latching onto your waist trying to keep you still, but as his tongue starts moving quickly in and out of your entrance, your body only begins to writhe more. You can feel the heat and pressure increasing as he continues this game of his. Your orgasm is starting to build up fast as your breaths and moans flow out quicker. You start to clench when you feel his tongue flick on your nub again and just as you are so close, ready to let go of everything, you feel it fizzle away as the warmth of his mouth and tongue does too.
You groan loudly as your body settles back into the mattress, your frustrations pooling where your pleasure should have been by now. You’re whispering pleads over and over again, hoping he will give you something, anything.
“It feels good, doesn’t it? Mh? It’s nice…nice doesn’t mean you can relish in it, doll. No cumming, not yet.” he says as he is leaning over you again, his lips close to your ear, but also making sure your bodies are barely touching. “Now who makes you feel so, so good?” he coos at you.
“You, Master Getou.,” you choke out.
“Well taught pet. I’ll give you one opportunity to cum, so sit on my face.” He says as he pulls away and goes to lay down next to you on his back. You turn your head to look at him, wondering if he means it, but in the back of your brain you know it does not matter because you would do anything he says.
“I easily grow impatient. Perhaps a countdown will help? Three–”” he says with the corner of his lips slightly turned up.
You begin to push your body up slowly, feeling all your muscles flexing and tightening trying to make the mere crawl on your way to him. He feels so far away from you when your entire body is this tired, his eyes never leaving you, drawing you in closer. He lays there waiting with his hands behind his head, biceps flexing. His lips stretch out into a lazy smile seeing your effort in coming near him, getting closer to his domain.
You know that although he says he is giving you control, you will always be in the palm of his hand, bending to his will, letting it swallow you whole. Your legs finally straddle his shoulders. You’re holding yourself up as much as you can as you look at the view below. His eyes are still peering at you, looking at every inch of your body. His hands come out from behind his head and you feel them sliding up the back of your thighs, grabbing at your skin as they go up to your waist. His fingertips fuse with your skin as he grips you tighter.
His voice ripples through you, making your body more alert.
“Finally. I am famished.” Each word he emphasizes makes your body almost drop over him, but he keeps hold of you as he pulls you close so you are now on top of his face.
Unlike before, his tongue is quick to lick every part of your pussy. Tracing every single line, every fold. His fingers move as if he wants to weave them in between your ribs, to have you intertwined with his body in every way possible.
You start rocking your hips, wanting more. His nose hits your clit over and over again, making little whimpers slide from the back of your throat. His moaning and hot breath against you has your stomach tightening as your arousal increases. As his tongue moves in and out of your hole, your hands graze up your own body, your fingers starting to trace your nipples lightly.
A low moan leaves you as Getou’s lips suck hard on your clit and one of his hands clashes with one of your ass cheeks, making you pull harder on your nipples. Sweat starts pooling at the nape of your neck, your body prickling with warmth. The sensation is starting to become too much to bear.
You can feel your wetness growing as Getou starts sucking on your skin, the sounds gradually escalating in the room. His hands make their new home on the back of your thighs, gripping them tightly, securing your spot on his face. Gasps are flowing through you as you start to clench around his tongue. You’re feeling each sound he vibrates against you, tongue still flicking and sliding on every crevice followed by his lips.
You are not sure if you can hold it in any longer as the fuzziness starts taking over your head and the shaking of your legs is beyond your control. His lips are now on your clit again sucking hard and you nearly scream from the pleasure that shoots through your body. This is the closest you have been to letting go all evening and it feels so good, you wish you could be in this position all the time. You are ready to release all the buildup and all the tension that has been stored in since the beginning of the evening.
Your high has been ripped away from you again. You are now on your back, pressed into the mattress. You are heaving, chest rising quickly, the vibrations of your body stopping completely. The tears rolling out from the corner of your eyes fall down the side of your face and you can feel the wetness pooling in your ears. The frustration rises through your body as you have been denied your orgasm yet another time. You want to crawl away, curl up and hide somewhere, knowing Getou may not even let you reach your peak. You would get away from him, you really would, but the soreness of your body is settling into the deepest parts of your muscles, making it difficult to move. And in any case, you know Getou would only drag you right back.
“Oh? Is my pet crying? Try harder, add more tears, it’s bound to make me merciful, right?” he says condescendingly, “I did tell you this was not about you, but you are so greedy you let your silly brain make you believe you would cum! Hah!”
You continue to lay there in your hazed state, trying to grasp the words Getou is saying to you. You are trying to listen, but the exhaustion is starting to kick in, your mind wandering somewhere else. A grunt leaves your mouth as you feel your body being rolled over, stomach now pressing into the mattress as your head is turning to one side. The warmth of Getou’s body is over yours, chest onto your back, his arms caging in on either side of you. His lips brush against your ear; kissing, licking, biting at it as he continues to talk to you.
“Tired?“ This time it was him, your boyfriend, not your Master, you could hear it in his voice. Lowering his tone, it was like a confession as he spoke, “You know we can stop at any time. If you say you are done, then you are done and I stop. We can relax for the rest of the evening.” He smiled sweetly, “Limits are there to be respected, for both of us to enjoy this. Don’t push yourself to an extreme you would regret, sweetheart.”
His words start to resonate with you and there is a part of you that is honestly exhausted, who would love nothing more than a hot bath and to curl up in bed, but the other part of you still wants more. You still wanted to feel everything Getou has to offer you. You find the strength to answer him, “I can take more, Master.””
“What is your color?”
“Green.”
He smiles, “I knew my little whore had some spunk to her,” he says as his teeth dug into your shoulder. “Now what do you want more of?”
“All of you. I am yours…” You know you are breaking the scene by not calling him Master or sir, but you also know showing your sincerity and want, your need for him to continue tells him you could keep going.
“That’s my fucking girl. Always so good for me. You know how much I love to be in my pussy,” the huskiness in his tone makes your stomach flutter, your heart beating quicker as his lips brush against the side of your face.
His body still flush against yours, you feel one of his hands travel down, pushing your legs apart slightly as he begins to brush two of his fingers on your heat. Your body twitches slightly from his touches; everything is so sensitive, but the feeling of pleasure rising again was tasting so good.
“Look at my pussy, always so wet for me. Always so sensitive. How can it always be dripping for me like this? Does your pussy need me that bad?”
“Please Master Getou, please please I need you. Please stop teasing, I need you inside me. It… it’s all yours… just…”
“Of course it’s all mine,” he says as you can feel the tip against your opening, “Look how… responsive my pussy is for me…” he continues to say, pushing himself more into you. You moan from the stretch of his cock filling you, pulsating around him. Once he is all the way inside, your back arches into him more, making him hit even deeper than he already is. His hand comes back near your face, pads of his fingers brushing against your lips as you taste yourself. Your mouth wraps around his fingers more, sucking as he begins rocking his hips slowly against your ass. You release more moans as his fingers greedily press against your tongue, coaxing all the sounds out. You continue to arch and move your hips to meet his, trying to feel every bit of him inside of you. The warmth in your face grows as he continues to kiss and bite at your ear and neck, whispering how your pussy is his and his alone.
His thrusts start to become faster and deeper, your hands reaching out to grip the sheets as whimpers and gasps leave your mouth to fill up the room, combined with his heavy breaths. Removing his fingers from your mouth, they make home onto your neck, holding it snug in his grip. You begin to clench more around him as his thrusts start to hit a pleasurable spot. You wish you could grip him tighter and hold him in place, where he can continuously rub against that one spot only.
“Look how my pussy wants to hold onto me. She is so needy, isn’t she? And you are too, my little pet?” he states between ragged breaths. You are not sure if you can form anything coherent to answer him back as he keeps sliding in and out of you, making you gasp.
“She… she is so needy… only for you. All yours, Master… it’s all yours…” you manage to breathe out.
You feel him rise and you groan as the cold air hits your back. His arm pulls at your waist as he brings you up with him, and you settle on your forearms in the new position. His other arm wraps around your neck and shoulders, pulling you up so your back is pressed against his chest again.
He holds you tight in between his arms, ensuring your movements are limited. You feel his pace quickening as your body rocks with his, the sound of skin slapping and rubbing against each other grows louder alongside both you and your Master's moans. Your knees are barely on the mattress with him thrusting so powerfully and holding you so close to his body.
His fingers start to slowly rub circles on your clit. You cannot help but let out a high pitched gasp. The pressure you feel between your legs and your lower stomach becomes greater and you feel yourself gushing as he twirls his fingers around your nub more, keeping up his pace. His other hand grabs your jaw and turns it back towards him giving you a passionate open-mouthed kiss. Lips and teeth crash together in a fight of who wants more of the other. You are teetering on the line of it not being enough and all too much, all at once. Getou is sliding in and out of you at such a pace that your vision goes dark. He puts more pressure on your clit and the wave is beginning to consume your body.
You let out a grunt, thinking you are finally letting go, but are shocked by your body crashing into the mattress. When your eyes finally adjust, you notice that he is balancing his weight on one of his knees, his other leg extended out in front of him with his foot pressing on your head. You start to feel a warm, thick liquid on your back; he has found his release. You groan again as you have been denied for who knows how many times.
“Doll, all your attention is on me. It should always be on me. Now remember, I’ll leave a longer lasting impression than that tattoo ever will.”
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A/N: Well I hope you all enjoyed the fic. So the backstory of writing this was a challenge from the discord server I am a part of. We were talking about what fictional character you would basically let them do anything. I of course chose this God of a man. Then it went on to kinks and what would be hard nos or hard yeses or maybes. So obviously the piss kink get brought up and it started it as a joke, but then it formed to a challenge and 13.8k words later, here we are!
Please give this fic some love, it will be greatly appreciated!
Crossover Post on ao3
You can also follow me on Twitter
#geto x reader#geto x y/n#geto x you#getou suguru/you#getou suguru#getou suguru x you#geto smut#geto suguru#getou smut#jjk getou#getou x reader#getou x you#getou jjk#jjk smut#dpr ian#dprchella#jjk au#jjk fanfic#jjk geto#jujutsu kaisen
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guys... the nonexistent rumor is true... i am a kpop enjoyer 😔🙏💔
so i humbly offer this song to killer: Limbo - DPR IAN
I took you out of my existence Only to crawl back into your arms Knowing how much it would take away
can mean so many things! either his relationship with nightmare and/or chara. or it's about his relationship with his own stages. the possibilities are endless >:]
#dpr ian also has did and bpd correct me if i'm wrong#his music is very visceral in that way#he's an auteur imo#killer sans#undertale au#utmv
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cringe is out, reposting fresh outta high school art from my dead overwatch account is in [repost 1 of 4]
#The ow brainrot is coming back full force and I do not apologize#When your favorite characters are stuck in the world's shittiest game but you still play it because you love them#and you have fun friends to play with every day#Prepare to be disappointed in the coming weeks(?) as I ride this out. If that happens.#overwatch#overwatch 2#reaper76#r76#gabriel reyes#jack morrison#reaper overwatch#cole cassidy#I would die for adopted cass aus#my art#repost#doodle-watch#dpr arts
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after watching Queen of the Night and having the full context of the song, Falling Upwards Into Love fits Crimson so much more than i originally thought
#funky lil thoughts#cccc morning star au#funky lil tunes#dpr queen of the night#yes i'm still thinking about this silent film
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Please check out our lovely author Doom's Mingi smut!
Two Just For You
Pairing: Song Mingi x afab reader x Christian Yu (DPR Ian)
WC: 5975
AU: non-idol
Genre: fuck buddies to partners. friends to partners.
Warning(s): "cheating", everyone swings all ways. threesome, Dvp. mxm, pet names, some degradation, sub Mingi, switch Christian, switch reader. sex with no barrier (reader is on the pill), Mingi is kind of a jealous toxic dick. big dick Mingi
Summary: Mingi hasn't tried to make things official with you, even after weeks of sleeping together and spending time together. He uses your new friendship with the hottie from the bar, Christian, as the excuse why he hasn't, going so far as fighting with you about it often, until you had enough. You didn't expect Christian to jump to the plate, even offering a relationship you wouldn't dare to think about before. But will it actually work?
Nets: @pirateeznet | @mirohs-aurora-society
Special tags: This is a belated birthday present for @mingsolo !! This is part two of Just For Tonight which was also written for Isa <3
dividers by: @cafekitsune
Taglist (Form): @candypop1611 | @vannabanana1995 | @piratequeen-queenofgames | @starstruckforyou
“So another fight?” Christian asked with a crooked brow, bringing his cup to his lips as you spilled the tea on your latest fight with Mingi- in which you weren't sure you were dating or just fuck buddies, at least not any more.
You had given him that one chance, and then he occupied your bed any chance you two got. But outside of sex, it was hard to determine your chemistry. Was it just sex? Or did you genuinely like him?
Through the last few weeks you had been updating the man responsible for this on a near daily basis. You even talked about other things, becoming friends and meeting up for the other adult drinks on occasion, like now: coffee.
“Mhmm. Like we aren’t even together and yet we’re fighting?” You sighed, setting the cup down and staring at the liquid inside. “Everything really was fine, until he realized I was talking to you. But I’m not going to budge on that…” Even if it royally sucked.
It had been your first fight, Mingi catching you in a face call with Christian while you were hanging around your apartment. You hadn’t been doing anything wrong, Christian was just asking if you two were dating yet since Mingi had slept over for probably the seventh or eighth time. You woke up before him and had been enjoying your coffee, in nothing but Mingi’s shirt, when he had walked in with nothing on himself.
He had started in on you the moment you hung up.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to date him?!”
“I’m not- we’re just friends. I did promise to keep him in the loop. Besides, if not for him you never would have gotten in my bed.”
“So what he’s just waiting around until I fuck up to swoop in? Am I the rebound? The second choice still?”
It was the first time he had raised his voice, but wasn’t the last. Whatever you two had been drastically changed since then, but funnily enough he fucked you every weekend, stayed over and watched movies. Everything was fine normally until your relationship with each other was brought up, or your relationship with Christian. Only one of those you wanted to change.
“I didn’t want to go out dancing last weekend, he did. I didn’t hear from him at all but I ended up going over because I felt bad about the fight you know? And some fucking chick was leaving his apartment when I did. He was right there, standing shirtless in the doorway with hickies on his neck.” Your blood began to boil just remembering the scene so vividly.
Christian’s eyes went wide, hissing as if he was the one in pain. “He didn’t-”
With a solemn nod, you looked up at him. “He did.”
He leaned back in his seat, whistling. “I was wrong about him then, damn. Thought he would be man enough for you.”
“Well we were both wrong. I honestly think this was it. I told him I was done with him. He had the audacity to say I was fucking you so why couldn’t he fuck around? Plus, ‘not like we’re official or anything’.” You felt the burn behind your eyes, knowing tears were going to build up. You had cried then, hit his chest with the bag of breakfast you had brought for him, and told him just what you thought of his words.
Christian waited patiently to hear it, leaning in again, arms folding on the table now.
Letting out a shaky breath, you continued. “I told him I’ve been waiting for him to get his head out of his ass because while I didn’t want to date a guy who wants to dictate my friends, I wanted him. Wanted him to make it official. Wanted to do stupid couple things, and celebrate anniversaries and maybe get a dog together down the line- you know, that stupid stuff. And I've wanted to do it since that first weekend.” You rapidly blinked the tears away.
His hand covered yours on the coffee cup for some silent comfort. “Oh love, he really fucked up.”
“He did. I told him no more. He doesn’t get any more chances. I gave him enough. And I haven’t heard anything from him all week.” It had been an unspoken ritual for him to come over Friday night after you got off work. If he showed up now, you hoped it was to give your spare key back and nothing more.
Silence followed; you wallowed in your own self-pity and Christian thought to himself.
He broke it first. “Do you want me to come over tomorrow night? Or I can swing by Saturday morning?”
“And do what? I’ll probably deep clean my apartment and throw his shit out. Months, Christian. I wasted months on him for an almost relationship and for what? Just to have my heart broken. Fuck, outside of the fights he was-” You pulled your hand away from his. “I loved him. Still fucking do. If he came back crawling and begging right now I’d actually consider it. Just… I was so tired of his jealousy. That was his problem, and it was so shitty of him to expect me to cut you out just because he couldn’t handle it.”
“It wasn’t without reason though.” He mumbled so low you barely heard him.
But you did, shocking you enough your head snapped up to stare at him, mouth agape. “What do you mean?”
His own eyes widened as he shifted uncomfortably. “You weren’t supposed to hear that… shit.”
“Christian, what do you mean?” You leaned forward, brows pushed together in a frown.
You two stared off for a moment before he relented with a sigh. “I pushed you to go after him that night, and I was still an option. Love… I never stopped being an option, at least not from where I was sitting. And he probably knew that. From his perspective, why else would I be sticking around after I told you, literally, if he didn’t work out then I would take you out? On a date no less? Not just a fuck.”
You bit down on your lip, mulling over his words. He was right… but you had been so focused on Mingi and trying to have a relationship with him, you ignored the way Christian made you feel. He was still as attractive as the day you first met him, and now knowing his personality he was very likable.
“But Mingi…”
He smiled at your pout, standing up and leaning over the table. “Love, have I ever told you I swing both ways? You’ve told me enough about him, that if he did get his head out of his ass, I think you could have us both. I am definitely not against it but he’s the issue.”
He was so casual about it, as if pointing out the shade of lipstick you were wearing, or talking about his week, not confessing something that had your stomach in knots.
Yet you still hesitated. “And if he doesn’t get his shit together? If he and I are really done?”
“Then you have a really cool boyfriend who will give you the Princess treatment and still encourage you to ride another man’s dick: especially if they’ll ride mine too.” He kissed your forehead before grabbing your coffee cup and taking it over to the trash. “Think about it. I’ll be over Saturday night and no matter what you choose, I won’t get angry or upset with you. I respect any decision you make, Love.”
This was definitely a turn of events you never expected. Ever.
After parting ways your next work day went by in a daze, opting to invite some friends over Friday night: strictly girl friends.
Course, Wooyoung apparently counted. He even put his hair in pigtails and wore the girliest outfit he had. You protested, but he insisted he was only going to be there to be the driver home for the ladies, and cook.
Apparently he had heard about what happened from Yunho who, unbeknownst to you at the time, had heard your whole argument with Mingi. So in his own way, Wooyoung was trying to be there for you. The bottle of soju and chocolates had been his idea too.
It also didn’t help that aside from your best friend, his girlfriend, you only had two other friends, only one showing up. So bestie being bestie invited the girlfriends of Wooyoung’s friends.
The shit talking that was done after the second bottle of soju was emptied was glorious. Wooyoung looked rather pained, or at least feigned shame, every time he was talked about, but he was immediately reminded of how much he was loved with kisses after. They were good together, you thought, but it also left you a bit jealous.
Of course your own predicament was brought up, but by Yunho’s girlfriend, not Wooyoung like you suspected. So you spilled the details, alcohol contributing to your whole conversation with Christian also being aired. Then, bets placed on if you were going to end up with one boyfriend or two, no one even considering you saying no to Christian which, to be fair, was a safe bet.
“I think you’re going to end up with two.” Wooyoung added last, smirking over his water bottle. “You don’t hang out with us enough to know but most in our group either swing all ways or both ways. You know Seonghwa and Hongjoong are dating and they’ve shared a few girls before. In fact they’ve been seeing the same girl for a few weeks now I think they might invite her in. I didn’t invite her though.”
“Plus I know Mingi likes dick. Yunho’s told me about it.” As soon as Yunho’s girlfriend slipped the words out, she looked apologetic. “Sorry again, I really can’t seem to hold my tongue with alcohol.” Her words were even slurring a bit.
This was even more information you had not expected, just more to think about it seemed.
They left you without a decision but started a group chat because they were now invested in how things went. Over all, it put a lot into perspective, and left you hopeful.
Wooyoung didn’t seem bad, and the girls his friends dated were definitely chill. Sure you preferred to be alone, but if you were going to socialize you liked the idea of doing so with them. And Mingi? Christian?
Maybe it was the alcohol but your dreams were plagued by a scenario with them that had you aching for them both. It wasn’t uncommon for you to dream about Mingi like this, but with Christian in the mix… you were very hopeful.
A girl could dream right? (In this case, literally dream.)
Saturday evening rolled around and your hopes of last night had dwindled to anxious cleaning and worries once more that you had fucked things up beyond repair. You sent a text to Mingi to bring you the apartment key, preferably before seven, as you had company coming over.
You had been left on read, so you had no idea if he was going to stop by or not. The later it got, the more anxious you had become, until six rolled around, then… seven was dangerously close.
“This is it, it’s over.” You mumbled to yourself as you leaned against the back of your couch looking over the somewhat romantic table setting you had worked hard on. While Mingi hadn’t messaged you once, Christian had, talking about this evening and making plans with you.
The two of you decided to cook dinner together, eat, watch a movie and then if you had been comfortable he could stay over or he could head home. Either way, you had told him that you wanted a date before agreeing to anything, so this was it.
And still no Mingi.
Dejectedly you made your way to your bedroom, having done your hair and makeup already but finally slipping into the comfortable but flattering outfit you had picked out. Everything about your appearance was still very homey, comfortable, but with that hint of dressed-to-impress including the lingerie set underneath. One you had bought for Mingi but never got to show him. You had been saving it for when, if, he finally asked to make things official.
A little after seven there was a knock on your door. You knew it was Christian, he had texted you a minute ago that he had arrived and would see you shortly. You tried not to let the disappointment show as you opened the door, still wanting to give the man the attention he deserved.
“Hope you don’t mind, I found a stray outside and thought I’d bring him in.” Christian smiled at you as he drawled in his aussie accent, his presence already easing your nerves a bit. It really was so hard not to like him.
“Stray?” You opened the door further, eyes practically bulging out of your skull as you spotted Mingi standing with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands and a sheepish expression. “Mingi?”
When you looked to Christian for an explanation, he happily supplied one. “He was pacing out front, nearly running when he saw me. I made him talk, we had a heart to heart, and now he’s here to beg your forgiveness. Aren’t you, bub?”
Mingi nodded, appearing much smaller than he actually was next to the man that was physically smaller, but older than him. “I’m sorry Princess I-”
You stopped him by holding a hand up. “Come inside and apologize properly.” You held the door open for them both, more flabbergasted by the whole situation than nervous now. The way Christian handled Mingi was just comedic, especially as the taller man stumbled forward and nearly tripped over his own feet.
“For you.” Mingi squeaked out as he handed you the flowers, then began to take his shoes off at Christian’s instruction. Just what sort of heart to heart did they have?
Both were dressed up, dark button ups and slacks, their hair styled a bit differently than their usual every day. It wasn’t overboard, but definitely gave the vibes of a date. You couldn’t help but think of this as a date with them both, smelling the flowers before making your way over to the kitchen to find a vase. You put these ones on the table as a centerpiece, smiling at the flowers.
“I like them but…” You turned, hands placed on your hips as you narrowed your eyes on Mingi. “This doesn’t mean you’re forgiven. I’m giving you one last chance.”
“I know. I heard from everyone all week how I fucked up. My own feelings don’t justify how I invalidated yours, over and over again Princess… and I’m sorry. I did something stupid and I really wish I could take it back.” He reluctantly stepped closer, Christian having to nudge him a bit before he went and made himself home in the kitchen.
The ease the tattooed Aussie expressed in your apartment was comforting. He relaxed you, often did or said what you needed to hear. No stress, no contempt, just a solid rock almost. And then there was Mingi, a fiery passion that made you feel alive, and often loved and giddy. Fire and water, and you liked them both. One snuck up on you, the other hit you with a force you had been fighting with since that first night you gave him a chance.
The night you gave them both a chance it seemed.
“But you did it Mingi. You were hypocritical for one, and just an insufferable asshole! I’m not waiting around anymore you understand? I’m not compromising further anymore. I know what I want and if you aren’t willing to do that, to be a part of my life in that way, then you can leave right now. Sorry or not, I-”
“I know.” He suddenly got on his knees before you, head down and arms at his side. “I’m willing to try. Fuck I should’ve been willing from the start. I was so sure you would compare me to him, that you would find him better, and wouldn't want me anymore. I didn’t think to communicate, to really hear what you wanted and not what would make me feel secure. You should never have to sacrifice for me security. I knew that and yet I kept asking. And then I couldn’t ask you to be my girlfriend if I was asking such a shitty thing right?”
You listened to his confession, listened to him ramble, but you could see Christian leaning against the doorway to your kitchen with some snack, popping it in his mouth like popcorn. He could be so unserious sometimes, and it was an effort not to smile at his antics.
“I thought you would pick him if you were given the actual option because hell, I’d pick him over me.” It was Mingi’s red ears that gave away what he truly meant by that.
Oh, he found him attractive. He was probably crushing too.
It was starting to look like Wooyoung was going to win that bet with the others.
“Mingi… I picked you over him. I did. I really fucking did. And you treated me like shit. Now I’m picking him-” You leaned down to grip his chin, pulling his face up when his shoulders had dropped dejectedly, “-and you. If you’ll try.”
His eyes flickered to Christian immediately. “Is he… okay with that?”
“Bub, it was my idea.” He smiled over at the two of you, setting aside the snacks before making his way over. “Why not give it a trial run? See how we work together? The chemistry is there and this might be me being a little impatient but, one night to see how we do? In the bedroom that is.”
You liked that idea far too much to pass it up, and by the glazed look in Mingi’s boba eyes… so did he.
Though you didn't jump right into it, insisting that you do the date part first. So the three of you cooked, the small kitchen feeling much too hot with the three of you. The number of times you felt a hand on you - hip, ass, back, shoulder- had you in need of a cold shower. You didn't even care about how the food tasted at this point, just wanting it done.
The icing on the cake was that Christian was just as touchy with Mingi but more subtle: his hip, back, arms to guide him around. He was finding any excuse to touch you both and Mingi seemed just as affected by it as you were.
While cooking dinner was practically a constant buildup of tension, eating was a bit more relaxing. The conversation was actually on the food, and the surprise that it came out pretty well. Which you suspected was mostly because of Christian as you hadn’t been able to focus. You teased him for it, and that was the first moment you saw him get flustered.
It was almost adorable how much they both got flustered and a little giggly when you would compliment them. You knew of Mingi’s habit before, but the fact Christian wasn’t much different… it put you in quite the teasing mood.
Where Christian would tease, you would tease right back, Mingi becoming a victim of you both especially during the movie. You couldn’t remember what movie it was, Christian on your left and Mingi on your right, dwarfing you on the sofa but it had been their hands that made it hard to focus. Christian had his right arm over the back of the seat, his fingers running up Mingi’s shoulder and neck casually or playing with his hair subtly. His other kept intentionally moving to draw your attention to his lap until you had thrown one leg over his thigh and he was now firmly holding it.
You would tease him by playing with his fingers, slowly inching his hand up your thigh on purpose. All while you had leaned into Mingi a bit, a hand resting on his thigh. You knew Christian’s touches affected him because you could feel his muscles tense up each time, your own teasing touches doing the same to his thighs.
The tension had grown so palpable it was a wonder none of you had snapped already. Just from the teasing, the way you moved your body to expose yourself to them, encouraging them to touch, you were practically begging for it. You didn’t even care about the movie anymore, constantly watching them. Your thoughts wondered how Christian would kiss you, if he would make Mingi watch, or if he would make you watch. The possibilities were endless but you were getting so impatient.
“Fuck this.” He seemed to be even more so, turning to face you more and leaning in to crash his lips to yours. You welcomed him, moving your own eager lips and lifting your hands to his shoulders to pull him closer.
Mingi whined behind you. “Princess-” He shifted behind you so your back was against his firm chest, his hands running over your sides to your stomach.
You let out a soft noise against softer lips at the touch, being sandwiched between them like this making you feel even smaller and much more wet between the thighs. You still weren’t entirely sure how this was going to work, since you’ve never had more than one partner in bed at the time, but the three of you would figure it out.
It didn’t matter if they took turns, at the same time, or with each other… as long as they did it quickly. You could feel how hard Mingi was against your back, his lips now on your neck as he watched the way Christian kissed you. When you did get a moment to breath, it was only because Christian’s lips were now on Mingi, pulling such a whiny moan from the bigger man it had your head spinning.
Wanting a better view, and to get your clothes off because it was far too hot, you pulled yourself off them and the couch. Christian immediately fell forward against Mingi, gripping his neck and pushing him down on the couch.
This was probably the hottest sight you ever had the pleasure to experience; you couldn’t tear your eyes away from it as you pulled your clothes off without a care where they fell… only leaving on the lingerie set.
Mingi caught a glimpse of you, pulling his mouth away to gape with swollen and wet lips from how hard the two had been making out. His eyes were glazed over with that familiar look, you knew he wasn’t going to be in charge of anything today. Perfect really, he looked so good whenever he let you use him to get off.
Christian had also turned when Mingi did, his breath catching in his throat. With a groan he sat back and began unbuttoning his shirt. “You look beautiful, Love. I’m not the only impatient one am I?” He pulled the shirt off and tossed it aside,, exposing tattoos up both arms and down his chest that both you and Mingi were admiring with similar drooling expressions on your face.
He patted Mingi’s thigh as he stood up. “Strip big boy, I want to gawk too.”
The way Mingi scrambled up to get his clothes off as Christian swooped in and picked you up had your giggles turning into a gasp. You could feel how hard he was, your wet panties pressed against his clothed bulge and you couldn’t help but to grind down. The friction had your head falling back, giving access to the attack of love bites he was now pressing against the curve of your neck. He carried you down the hall to your room with a little guidance from Mingi who was now in just his briefs with a noticeable wet spot.
Christian didn’t put you down like you first expected, instead holding you against him while massaging your ass and grinding into you almost like a needy pup. He pulled his lips from the curve of your breast to look at Mingi. “On the bed, naked. Can’t forget you made her cry, that’s not going to fly anymore you understand?”
With heated boba eyes, he nodded. “I won’t. No more jealousy. I’ll make it up to her for the rest of my life if I have to.”
Christian smirked against your shoulder, “that’s what I like to hear.” A moment later he was setting you down on Mingi’s thighs, his cock right in front of you. “But let’s see how you can handle it really. Watch her face as I fuck her? Make her feel good? Just like you have been dreaming about, yeah bub?”
You and Mingi both whined in response.
Without being told, and much too eager for your own good, you leaned forward and lifted your hips. “Please, I don’t want to wait any longer.” After all you had technically been thinking about this since he left you after your coffee meetup.
Glancing over your shoulder, your breath lodged in your throat momentarily at the expression Christian wore: full of impatience, lust, and a bit of disbelief. The impatience won out as he pulled the rest of his clothes off quickly and climbed on the bed, knees on either side of Mingi’s legs but nudging your own further apart until you were pressed against Mingi and could feel his cock against your mound and stomach. “Prep first love, I’m not his size but I don’t want to hurt you for our first time.”
He only pushed your panties aside before pushing in two fingers, pulling your cheek away so he could see your cunt better even knuckle deep. You couldn’t watch well, too focused on the pleasure to keep yourself controted at such an angle and Christian was determined to press all the right buttons.
Mingi wasn’t going to just lay there it seemed, his hands finding your waist as he lifted his hips to grind his cock against you, the fabric of your panties getting pushed up more by his action.
Christian had other ideas, smacking both his hands while his fingers still fucked you with intention of spreading you out. “Aht, bubs, you’re still getting punished.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss against the center of your back, his cock heavy on the curve of your ass as he did so. “Love, hold his hands down. Don’t have to be too rough, just make sure he doesn’t move. Bubs is going to be a good boy and keep still though, aren’t you?”
You eagerly did as you were told, holding Mingi’s wrists as you pushed your hips back to meet Christian’s hand. Mingi was watching you both with his brows pushed up and pretty thick lips parted, looking so cute. The whole situation was quite hot, yet it still wasn’t enough.
Before you could beg, Christian was pulling his fingers out and leaning over you, tapping Mingi’s lips with them. He didn’t even have to tell Mingi what to do before the man was latching his pretty mouth over the appendages, tongue wrapping around as he sucked them clean. You were so fascinated by the visage that the cock suddenly spreading your hole further took you by surprise.
Christian wasn’t small, you suspected he wasn’t, but it was hard to beat Mingi’s monster cock. That didn’t discourage him, burying himself to the hilt and pressing down on your back to angle you just right that you felt him in all the right spots. A nice little perk was that it pressed your mound harder down on Mingi’s cock, the first thrust Christian gave sliding you up and rubbing your clit against him.
Yes, he wasn’t small but he knew just how to use you.
He kept his hand on the small of your back as he leaned back, holding you there as his hips built up a slow but harsh pace that had you sliding up Mingi’s cock and back down with each thrust. “Feels better than I imagined Love, and your pretty sounds- mmm fucking hell you’re addicting.”
You hadn’t even realized you were moaning and whimpering until he pointed it out, all your focus that wasn’t taken up by his cock had been on keeping your position still.
Mingi’s arms twitched under your hands, soft pants leaving his lips just above your head as you rested it on his chest. You gasped out as your head was suddenly pulled back, your expression on display as Christian had a fistful of your hair, grunting out, “he needs to see you.”
You locked eyes with Mingi, licking your lips at how delicious he looked, but his eyes did flicker back to Christian behind you quite a bit. Oh you wanted to know what sort of expression he made, but the thought was dashed when you felt a second intrusion in your cunt: he was pushing a finger in, stretching you out further even as his cock kept pushing in.
Eyes rolling back, the stimulation of your clit and his cock, had you coming and tightening your walls around him. “Shit, Love, not so tight-” Christian groaned out, hips stuttering in his pace as he tightened his hold on your hair. “Gotta stretch you out.”
“W-what for?” You gasped out, body still reeling from the orgasm and walls fluttering around his cock.
He chuckled, pushing a second finger in once you relaxed once more. “To take us both of course.”
Mingi’s eyes went wide, eyebrows scrunched so far up it was almost comical, but you couldn’t laugh considering you were just as shocked.
“Excuse me?” You gasped out, bouncing on his cock once more as he picked up his pace.
“You heard me love. I want you to take both of our cocks in your sweet cunt. What better way to see if this will work? To show we can really share? Other than by sharing your sweet fucking pussy?” He pulled out slowly with each sentence just to slam in before starting the next, tits bouncing with each thrust and hardened nipples scraping against Mingi’s chest.
“Thought I was getting punished?” Mingi groaned beneath you, clearly trying his best not to move but he was lifting his chest just a bit to feel your tits on you more, his tongue constantly flicking out as he watched them.
Christian let go of your hair to instead grab your throat and you could feel the metal of his rings against your esophagus as he leaned forward. “Have you not yet realized I want you too big boy? And I want to feel that pretty fucking cock rubbing against mine as her delicious cunt squeezes us both so tightly we’re seeing heaven.”
You and Mingi both whined at that, resulting in a chuckle from Christian as he pushed in a third finger and pushed them apart to stretch you out even more. It was a bit uncomfortable, never having been so stretched out before, but you knew this was nothing compared to how they would both feel inside you.
Once the man felt satisfied, he pulled out completely, dropping your neck gently before he flipped you around so your back was against Mingi’s chest. “Hold her legs.”
Mingi complied immediately, his head slotted next to yours as his hands were gripping the back of your knees and holding your legs up and wide.
Christian grinned at the sight, tongue playing with his bottom lip while he took a moment to touch you both. “Such a pretty cock-” He was gripping Mingi’s shaft now, lifting it to line his tip with your cunt you were sure was gaping for them, “-and such a beautiful pussy. Going to look so good, all connected, yeah?”
Meeting Mingi’s eyes, Christian nodded in a silent command before watching Mingi push in, shifting you down his body a little so you could take more of his cock easier. With how stretched out you were, Mingi slipped in so easy but there was still a stretch the deeper he went and it felt amazing. You could never get used to how good he felt inside, each time just as new and exciting as the first.
“I could get used to watching this.” Christian hummed before adjusting himself to crouch on his feet, adjusting himself so that his own cock lined up with your entrance. He braced himself on the back of your thing, guiding his tip in before bringing his thumb to your clit. He rubbed soft circles as he pushed in, attempting to be gentle as the stretch was now painful. “I know love, but you can take it. You’re such a good girl, I know you can take it. Mmm look at that, halfway in.” He paused, panting.
“So… fucking… tight-” MIngi groaned against your ear, voice gruff from his own pleasure. You knew he was trying to control himself, his grip almost bruising as he watched Christian continue to push in while rubbing your bundle of nerves.
Soon enough they were both balls deep inside you, all three of you panting from the effort as you tried to adjust but they felt so big and you couldn’t stop clenching down around them. Mingi sounded as if he was one thrust away from cumming inside you, and maybe that was all the three of you had.
Christian didn’t stop rubbing your clit, easing away the pain until you were whimpering and grabbing his forearm. “P-please- just fuck me already. Wanna cum with you both. Wanna fill how big I get.” Your other hand pressed down on your lower stomach, and that was the final trigger.
They both began to thrust into you harshly, your cries quickly filling the room as your head fell back. “Oh fuck oh God yes yes please!” quickly became too jumbled up to be decipherable from the intense pleasure they fucked into you.
It was unlike anything you had ever felt, so full, so thoroughly stretched out with every single nerve ending getting rubbed just right that you were on the cusp of soaking all of you.
When Mingi reached up and grabbed the back of Christian’s neck, pulling him down to crush his lips to his own, you hit your release with a silent scream. Your walls pulsated around them both,adding pressure that had them moaning into each other’s mouths until they were filling you up just as you promised.
The three of you were a sweaty, convulsing mess as you rode out your climaxes together, panting in each other’s ears and struggling to remember how your lungs work.
You tapped Christian’s shoulder, turning your head to kiss him, the Mingi, taking turns swapping spit and tongue and watching them do the same until their softening cocks and the leaking cum was becoming uncomfortable.
“S-shower?” You rasped out, gently pushing Mingi’s hands off you so your legs could straight out a bit, pushing Christian off in the process.
“We can.” The aussie grinned as he sat next to you both. “Or we can try a few more dynamics?”
You playfully hit his shoulder, glancing back at Mingi. “We’ll have plenty of time for that, won’t we baby? You did say forever right?”
Mingi blushed a bit but nodded. “Yes… You have us both.”
You licked your lips, cupping both of their cheeks. “Mmm, two of the hottest, most adorable dorks, just for me?”
“Just for you.” They said together, grins almost matching. You could live with that.
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#ateez x reader#ateez smut#mingi smut#ateez imagines#mingi x reader#ateez fanfiction#a; potatomountain#gr; ateez#g; smut#m; mingi#m;dpr ian#p; mxr#au; non-idol
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Let's go haul Fill it up to make it burst Look around Time is short, make ‘em all yours, oh Shop all day, ay-ay-ay Greed is free, ay-ay-ay, oh Go Make your own Like I was born to own This shop will never close, forever
#this video is snow quartz bonnie and clyde au#no one asked but iu was my OG muse for snow and dpr ian is gem coded ive been trying to make dpr ian as gem muse happen#just trust me... im right#anyway a video about SHOPPING!! well its about living how u want to live and taking what u want#still#its about snow its snow inspo thanks and on this day im ueana#music#about#Youtube
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LOVE ON AiR
SYNOPSiS » two podcast groups, both equally popular on the internet, start interacting with one another. however it isnt how fans want it to be.. OR yn sees sunghoon hating on lauryn hill and accidentally starts an entire fanwar with him.
PAiRiNG » sunghoon x fem!reader
FEAUTRiNG » all of enha, giselle of aespa, txt briefly mentioned
GENRE » smau (social media au), fluff, angst, enemies to lovers (barely), chronically online humor, romance, podcast au, influencer au, HEAVILY inspired from suburb talks and under the influence podcasts, SLOWBURNN
WARNiNGS » profanity, suggestive humor, kys/kms jokes, lots of pop culture references (im chronically online im sorry), drinking, drugs, fanwars, yn haters (BOOOOO), stalking (sorta?) manipulation (NOT FROM SUNGHOON OR Y/N) changes every chapter.
STATUS » completed — (08/03/24) to (10/26/24)
PLAYLiST » your eyes only - enha, after midnight - chappell roan, ex factor - lauryn hill, kiss me - dpr live, read your mind - sabrina carpenter, 3005 - childish gambino, poison poison - renee rapp, thirst - dpr live, just a little bit - enha, daisy - wave to earth, nouvelle vague - wave to earth, thinkin about you - frank ocean. (got carried away .. 😁)
AUTHORS NOTE » BIGGG thanks to my bestest friend ever, my fav british person, @lqfiles , ily so so much and thank you so much for helping me with this process. teaching me how to work tumblr like i was a grandma even tho im only 2 years older than u and making this AMAZING cover (isnt she talented), i love u sooo much more than words can describe, you annoying brit (endearing) 🫶
TAGLIST CLOSED!
written chaps in blue
🔴 RECORDING..
teaser (read first for context!!)
profiles i & profiles ii
1) call my phone a vibrator the way it keeps buzzing
2) YAP CENTRAL EP.135: alpha male podcasts?!
3) first hate thread. feeling nervous
4) pussy slay queen!
5) okay alpha
6) ROUND TABLE EP.149: perfect pitch :o
7) 1 down 3 to go
8) what the fuck is a ynhoon
9) YNXOXO VLOG: night out w/ won and riki
10) wet and bothered
11) just a normal tuesday
12) jungwons evil arc
13) YNXOXO VLOG: cafe date with my girls <3
14) the battle of thirst traps
15) twitch streaming era
16) YAP CENTRAL EP.136: did social media ruin relationships?
17) second interaction: kinda scared
18) fuck skater boys
19) park sunghoon v. round table
20) riki emo era: OVER
21) sunghoons side hoes
22) ROUND TABLE EP.150: we traded phones?!
23) bro define: friend
24) spidey sense
25) on my cellular plan i pay for?
26) YNXOXO VLOG: night time routine + surprise!!
27) a face i would kiss
28) collab of the century
29) YAP CENTRAL EP.137: has love lost its meaning?
30) eyes don’t lie
31) operation: ynhoon (postponed)
32) crybaby
33) operation: ynhoon (BACK ON)
34) chat is this a date yes or no?
35) boss baby jay
36) boyfriend
37) soft or hard?
38) what da heck *tyla voice*
39) YNXOXO VLOG: ice skating! | vlog w/ a special guest!!
40) love is on air
UNCUTS
1) operation: get riki ip banned on twt
2) try not to blow up challenge: FAILED
3) JAYS KITCHEN: my friends trying to help me make food blindfolded. (spoiler: it’s a fail)
4) YNXOXO VLOG: my boyfriend does my makeup voiceover !
5) YAP CENTRAL BLOOPERS: riki kat and yn patreon ad
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#enhypen#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fluff#enhypen smau#enhypen imagines#enhypen social media au#enhypen sunghoon#sunghoon#sunghoon smau#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon x reader#enhypen x reader#sunghoon scenarios#park sunghoon#pshbites#sunghoon x you#enhypen x you#sunghoon social media au#pshbites: love on air
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Break from Reality - C.YU
Pairing: mr. insanity/christian yu X afab! reader
Genre: idek
Warning(s): mr. insanity is an implied a magic man, sort of alice in wonderland inspired, reality shifting
A/N: I FINALLY DID IT 😝 I finally got inspired and I want to thank my man for releasing this song it’s so good 🩷🩷
A/N: IF I feel like it, there will be more in the future MAYBE because I like this one
“Where I’ve been,
I get told that I’m just a stranger”
You open your eyes, slowly taking in the vibrant atmosphere before quickly realizing that you’re not home, in your bed but rather laying in a bed of white tulips and lilies. You quickly sit up and look around, confused but mostly afraid. What are you doing here?
Everything looked so.. vibrant to where it almost hurt your eyes. The sun was shining brightly but didn’t hit your skin as you’d expect it to. The trees were lush with jade painted leaves, almost looking like a painting that should belong in a museum. Everything looked peaceful yet you suddenly got hit with a feeling. Like you’re not supposed to be there.
You were scared to move from where you woke up. You don’t even remember how you ended up here. Is this even a dream?
You suddenly hear footsteps walk up to the field you were currently occupying, which made you panic. You lie back down in the bed of flowers, laying as stiff as a board to not draw attention to yourself. You hear the footsteps stop after a minute so you begin to think that your coast is clear..
“Hi there!” a man’s face appears in front of yours a little too close for your liking, making you push immediately him away and sit up.
“Who the hell are you?! And what is this place?” the man tilts his head but flashes a smile that didn’t meet his big glittery eyes.
“I go by many names but call me Insanity or Ian if you’d like, that’s what most people call me”
“People call you Mr. Insanity? Who the hell comes with a name like that, I’d much rather call you Ian” Ian crosses his arms, this time you take in his appearance.
He was tan and semi tall, definitely taller than you are. His hair was black and short with a little ruffle in the back and he wore a see through butterfly top and dark blue bell bottoms with boots.
He should look friendly but what sort of disturbed you was how soft yet crazy his face looked. To be fair, he is attractive with the light blush on his cheeks and nose and the shiny glitter on his eyelids yet his eyes were almost blacked out by his pupils and the shape of his eyes were larger than your average human.
“Hello?” his hand flashes by your face, making you realize that you were checking this stranger out, ignoring what he said.
“Why am I here? I know you have something to do with this”
“Hey! What if I didn’t? That’s not how you talk to someone you just met!”
“You really are crazy” Ian smiles widely, unnerving you once again.
“It’s a part of my name! But to explain everything, you entered my world during your subconscious state then you fully entered once you began unconscious” his smile never dropped when he spoke..
Creepy.
“So I’m trapped here?!”
“I wouldn’t say trapped but I don’t think you have a chance of leaving any time soon but on the bright side, I’m here! And I’ve been lonely for a while”
“I wonder why” you mumble but it seems like he heard you based on his head tilt but that smile stayed glued to his lips.
“But don’t worry, we’ll have good fun here” you did not feel reassured by that sentence. Good luck (look for help).
#christian yu x reader#dpr ian#christian yu imagines#wonderland au#dpr scenarios#fantasy au#dream perfect regime#christian yu#dpr#Spotify
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champagne problems: part one
pairing: jake sim x f reader
genre: enemies to lovers, rich kids au, fake dating au, college au, angst, fluff
part one word count: 15.6k
part one warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, family drama, a fatal case of second son syndrome
soundtrack: boom - dpr live / bad idea! - girl in red / blood on the floor - kuiper / calico - dpr ian / comme de garçons (like the boys) - rina sawayama / lust - chase atlantic
note: another reupload!! hope this hopeless romantic college boyfriend jake hits just as good the second time around. happy reading ♡
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
The second son of a wealthy family, Jake Sim has gotten used to always standing in the shadow of his older brother. From grades to girls to talks of becoming future CEO of the Sim Corporation, he’s no stranger to coming in second place. So when an opportunity arises for Jake to finally have the one thing his brother can’t and best him once and for all, he knows he’d be a fool not to take it.
There are only two problems. The first is that the thing his brother wants so badly isn’t a thing at all. It’s you, semi-estranged daughter of the Sims’ closest and most long-standing business partner.
The second is that Jake Sim can’t fucking stand you.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Fingers wrapping around the stem of your wine glass, you sigh. Punctuality may have been a steep order for someone who you suspect is running dangerously low on both common sense and regard for others, but twenty minutes? Really?
Your eyes land on the obnoxiously ornate grandfather clock next to the hostess stand. In a restaurant with ceilings so high you can barely see them and a carefully curated ambience that practically screams old money, it blends right in. It also gives you an updated timeframe on your would-be date’s tardiness.
Scratch that – thirty minutes.
Pulling out your phone, the absence of any new notifications is almost as annoying as whatever threadbare excuse you’re sure your date will offer you when he arrives. Glancing at the door, it remains devoid of any new patrons. Or perhaps rather if he arrives.
You’re running near empty on both pinot noir and patience, and you use the distraction of your phone to make you seem a little less pathetic. As if this entire restaurant isn’t already privy to the fact that you’re actively being stood up.
Well, you think wryly, at least you look good doing it. The off white ensemble you selected for the evening is Chanel, and vintage, at that. Usually you wouldn’t pull out all the stops like this for something as flimsy as a first date, but men like James Sim have an eye for this kind of thing.
Four years your senior, he’s already carving out a name for himself at twenty-five. You suppose it is a little less impressive, though, when the name he was born with already carries a legacy of its own in the business world you usually do your very best to stay out of. Rumor has it he’s already a shoo-in for the next CEO of his father’s company. When nepotism is that blatant, you can’t do much but scoff and raise a glass to it.
Scrambling for something to do to make your wasted time pass a bit quicker, you search up the social media profile of your would-be date. Honestly, you doubt you would learn anything more substantial about him if he actually bothered to show up than you will from scanning over his feed. In your experience, men like that tend to make up for their success on paper by lacking an actual personality and any sort of self-awareness.
Gym selfie. Scroll. Gym selfie from a slightly different angle. Scroll. Dog photo. Pausing, you suppress a small smile. The dog in the picture is pretty cute, if nothing else. Zooming in slightly, your eyes crinkle at the way the dog’s tongue lolls out of its open mouth in a grin. Well, at least he’s got that going for him, you suppose. A cute dog is enough to bump any guy’s ranking up a few points in your book.
If James Sim is nothing but a sum of his social media profile, it’s not like you expected anything else. After all, this is the heir to the Sim Corporation, a golden boy that was born with a crown on his head and a gold spoon in his mouth. Everything he’s earned has been laid out for him in painstakingly placed steps. His entire life has been guided by a heavy hand and the knowledge that he would one day inherit everything that makes his family worth knowing.
You probably wouldn’t be too concerned with showing up to first dates on time, either. Especially since you doubt he’s ever been denied a second.
Tonight is nothing but a blip on a radar, you’re sure. Something for a secretary to schedule and him to notice a day or five late. Maybe if you’re lucky, someone on his team will send a consolatory bouquet once he does realize the mistake. He is still building his reputation, after all, and you could use a fresh set of flowers for your apartment.
With another slightly pitiful sigh and a final swig of wine, your glass is empty and your optimism is shot. A second glance at the clock says that thirty-eight minutes have now elapsed since your scheduled meeting time. And in your opinion, that’s thirty-nine too late for a first date.
Retrieving your coat from the back of your chair, you figure tonight will be remembered as nothing but a waste of a good outfit. Besides, you suppose forty minutes of aimless scrolling is ultimately less painful than the inevitable headache this date surely would have been had he bothered to actually show up.
Suddenly, you frown. You won’t complain if this date never actually happens, but you may end up with a slight problem. Although you haven’t been on the best of terms with your mother in a long time, tonight was meant to be the final bullet point on a list of favors you owe her.
As you pull your coat on, you consider the best way to frame the events of the evening. Lean into the whole ‘getting stood up’ thing in an effort to earn some sympathy points? Lay out the facts in their most basic form, timestamps included? Emphasize the fact that you waited long past the obligatory twenty minutes for him to actually show up? Or leave your message chain as it currently is, tell her nothing at all, and let her assume what she wants?
They’re all equally iffy, you think. Risky in their own regard.
Signing your name at the bottom of the check, you scribble in a generous tip for the waitress who did her best to check on you often without making it obvious that she knew you were expecting company that never arrived, expertly skirting that line between overbearing and empathetic. At least someone will go home happy, you think, adding an extra zero for good measure.
Exiting the restaurant, you decide to make it two people. James Sim may be a hotshot at his father’s company, but you’ll be damned before you let him ruin your evening. Before you order the Uber back to your place, you add an extra stop at your favorite sushi place. Takeout in the comfort of your own home will certainly be easier to enjoy than whatever Michelin-Star concoction you would have ordered here anyway, eaten in small bites between forced conversation topics, awkward pauses, and too long sips of wine.
And an hour later, you’re polishing off the last piece of an absolutely divine rainbow roll, wearing nothing but silk pajamas and a face mask, with old reruns of your favorite show playing on the TV when James Sim finally glances down at the Rolex on his wrist. He’s finally arrived at the tail end of a meeting that’s running so far behind schedule he has half a mind to just walk out of it. He would, too, if his father wouldn’t actually threaten his life for it.
It’s late, James realizes. Stupid late. So late that he won’t have the time or energy to do anything but pass out by the time he gets home, which really sucks, because he was genuinely looking forward to his date tonight–
“Fuck.”
All he can do is curse, even as the shocked faces of a concerning number of top executives turn to look at him all at the same time.
…
Jake Sim is about to fail his econ midterm.
It will be at least a week before grades are released, but he already knows it. He can already feel it in the way the questions start to swim in his mind, making less and less sense the more he turns them over, in the way his gut fills with dread as the minute hand of the clock at the front of the lecture hall ticks closer and closer to the testing time limit.
And it wouldn’t be that bad, if it weren’t his second time repeating this course.
Oh, his father is going to have an absolute field day with this one. Jake can practically hear it now.
“You failed your midterm? After already failing this course twice? You know, James was actually the top scoring student in his economic section. Dr. Jeong still mentions his term paper every time I see him at the university…”
And that’s if he’s in a good mood. Or rather, if things at the company are going well. Jake doesn’t even want to consider the comments he’ll be on the receiving end of if the news of his failure finds his father already agitated.
Exhaling, he gives his exam one final once-over, scanning for completion more than accuracy. His brain is so fried that he knows it’s of little use to him now. For his own sake, the best thing to do at this point is turn his test in and send a silent prayer to whoever might be listening on his way out the door.
Leaving the lecture hall behind him, Jake puts his phone out of airplane mode and frowns at the two notifications that pop up on his screen. The first is a missed call from his brother, and the second is a message from the same sender, requesting that he give him a call when he has the chance.
Considering that it’s neither his birthday nor a major holiday, Jake is more than a little confused. Regardless, he honors the request, pressing his phone to his ear as he begins the walk back to his apartment. Although it’s significantly less spacious than his childhood home, he finds it far more welcoming in more ways than one.
The outgoing call rings once, twice, three times. Jake is about to be annoyed at the missed connection, but his brother answers in the moments just before he’s sent to voicemail.
“Hey, Jake.” Shocking. He actually bothered to check the caller ID.
“Hey.” Jake’s voice is careful, guarded. It’s not like his personal life is of any importance to his older brother, but he’s not in the mood to answer any questions. He won’t give James any reasons to ask. “I saw your message.”
“Right.” Jake can hear the shuffle of other voices, scattered movements coming from the other line. James sounds busy. Just like always. Usually, that would usually mean he’s distracted. But Jake has the odd feeling that he has his brother’s undivided attention when James adds, “I have a favor to ask you.”
Immediately, Jake’s stomach drops. There are very few things in this world that are not within James Sim’s grasp, and even less that are within Jake’s, relatively speaking. Whatever it is, he must be desperate, if he’s willing to enlist the help of his little brother.
“Okay.” Jake’s voice betrays none of his sudden anxieties. “What is it?”
At least James spares him the agony of suspense. “You know ___, right?”
Jake frowns. Sure, he knows of you. Just like he has a vague idea of every one of his family’s business partners and their immediate kin. Particularly the ones that are the same age as him and attend the same university. But it’s not like he’s close with you, not like he’s ever had an actual conversation of any substance with you.
Especially since the minimal interactions the two of you have had did not leave Jake wanting more. The only child of parents whose last name is on the front of the most successful law firm within a thousand mile radius, you strike him as everything he’d expect you to be.
Spoiled. Entitled. Vapid. Out of touch with any version of reality that doesn’t consist of you getting everything you want at the exact moment you want it. He supposes it’s a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, considering his own upbringing, but he’d like to think that he’s earned what he’s been given, at least partially. Especially since most of it has been his brother’s hand-me-downs. And it’s not like his father has ever been in the habit of doing him any favors that don’t come wrapped in criticism, comparison, and disdain.
Although rumor does have it you and your mother haven’t been on speaking terms since you left for university, Jake imagines it’s probably because you wanted to bring the limited edition Versace to campus with you, and she insisted it would be safer at home.
Oh, well. Whatever designer dispute happened between you and your mother is no skin off his back. Jake has his own problems to worry about.
One of them being his brother’s question that still lingers on the other line.
Weighing responses in his head, Jake finally settles on, “I guess.” It’s his best attempt at being noncommittal.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t do anything to dissuade his brother. “Do you have her number by chance? My secretary should have taken it down, but she can’t find it anywhere.”
Jake balks, footsteps faltering. An equally distracted student walking behind him nearly stumbles right into his back. Wordlessly, Jake sends them an apologetic look before clarifying, “Her number? Like, her personal phone number?”
“What other kind of number is there?” And there’s the James that Jake knows. Annoyed at the perceived incompetencies of his younger brother, just as always.
Suddenly, Jake’s patience is running short too. James is the one asking for a favor and still has the gall to be annoyed with him. Typical. Jake’s words are clipped when he says, “No, I don’t have ___’s phone number.”
Jake expects that to be the end of it, but his brother won’t let it go so easily.
“Seriously? Don’t you two go to the same school?”
Jake rolls his eyes. “Right, because I have the entire student body on speed dial.”
There’s a pause on the other end. Jake half expects his brother to just hang up on him. After all, he’s never been able to take what he gets, to swallow what he dishes out.
What Jake does not expect, however, is the way James sounds so tentative when he speaks again. “Well…”
“Well what?” Patience already running thin, it’s all he can do not to snap.
“Do you think you could get it for me?”
Jake must be dreaming. This must be a post-exam punishment, a hallucination brought on by over exerting his brain too far for too long. “Do I think I could get ___’s phone number for you?” he repeats flatly.
“Is there an echo in here?” Asshole. At least he’s consistent.
“Just an echo chamber,” Jake mutters away from the receiver.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” Jake stops for a moment to fiddle with his keyring as he walks up the stairs to his apartment. “No, I can’t get her phone number for you.”
“Why not?”
The key won’t line up quite right. Jake tries again, frustration seeping through. “Because I have better things to do than run stupid errands for you. Why don’t you drive here and get it yourself?”
“Trust me, if I thought she’d give it to me, I’d be there in an hour.”
The lock on his door finally clicks open, and Jake all but throws his bag down after kicking off his shoes. “And what the hell makes you think she’d give it to me?”
“Well, you didn’t accidentally stand her up, for one.” James doesn’t sound embarrassed by it. Just matter-of-fact. Like a date is nothing but a business deal. Something to be rescheduled and redone if negotiations go sour the first time around.
It is enough to stir up some of Jake’s curiosity, though. “You went on a date with ___?” He supposes it makes sense. Even if the rumor mill and its rumblings about your rocky relationship with your mother ring true, you’re still your parents’ daughter. Still a perfect match on paper for the future CEO of the Sim Corporation. The king of a company and princess of a law firm. It’s a match made in heaven, he thinks ruefully.
“No, I didn’t. That’s kind of the whole point here.”
“Whatever.” Jake still doesn’t see what the hell he has to do with all this. “Why don’t you just look up her parents’ number in the company database and get it from them?”
Jake can practically feel his brother’s exasperation through the phone. “Right, because that would go over really well. Hi there," he imitates. “I’d like to make your daughter the mother of my future children. Care to pass along her phone number so I can get started on that?”
Jake suppresses a wince. “Jesus. I see why she stood you up.”
“She didn’t. I stood her up,” James clarifies. “On accident.”
Semantics. And not ones that Jake is interested in. “Either way. I’m not getting her number for you.”
“Yeah?” Jake is unsettled by the way there’s still no trace of defeat in his brother’s voice. There’s something almost sinister when he suddenly switches topics. “How are classes going?”
Jake’s lips pull into a taut line, disaster of an econ midterm still fresh on his mind. “Fine.”
“Really? Even econ? Third time’s the charm and all that?” Well, at least his brother can be counted on to consistently be an asshole.
“Why do you care?” The only thing Jake wants to do is end this call and crawl into bed for a well-deserved afternoon nap. Let his subconscious spare him from thoughts of his older brother and econ and you for at least a little bit.
James has other plans. “You must have taken the midterm recently, right?” Jake’s silence is confirmation enough. “You know, the only thing Dr. Jeong weighs more heavily than the midterm is the final paper at the end of the semester.”
A minute ago, Jake thought you were the last thing he wanted to talk about. The sudden shift in direction in this conversation is starting to prove him wrong. If there’s one thing Jake would rather discuss even less than his older brother’s dating life, it’s school. “What does that have to do with a–”
“And I think I still have my copy of the paper that earned me the top score in my entire section.” The smugness is practically palpable. “I might have to do some digging, but I’m sure it’s in my old files somewhere.”
Jake rolls his eyes, wishes the immediate comparison weren’t the first thing to rise to the forefront of his mind. Wishes it didn’t find him so lacking. Wishes it wasn’t narrated in the voice of his disappointed father. “If you’re trying to gloat, it’s n–”
“I’m trying to strike a deal. Jesus, no wonder you’re on track to be a super senior getting a business degree.”
“This is my third year,” Jake defends indignantly.
“And your third attempt at econ, which I passed in my first year.” He sounds like he’s settling a little too well into the CEO role when he proposes, “I’m trying to make it your last attempt.”
Jake would be lying if he said his curiosity weren’t piqued, even just slightly. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, little brother, that my term paper, my notes, all of it, are yours.” It sounds too good to be true. It has to be too good to be true. James is a lot of things, but generous and helpful are very rarely any of them. “As soon as you get me ___’s number.” And there it is.
Jake hangs up without bothering to dignify that with a response and hopes it sends a strong enough signal of his refusal. Then, he falls into his bed face-first with a groan.
And a week later, when his econ midterm results are finally posted, the first thing Jake does is let his head fall on his desk with an alarmingly loud thud that has Jay poking his head in the door to make sure everything’s okay. The second thing he does, a solid twenty minutes later, is send his older brother a text.
Jake [7:21pm]: You better start digging through those old files.
…
All things considered, you’re easier to track down than Jake expects. The university campus is big, and judging from the way he can’t remember ever seeing you in a class, the two of you don’t share a major. But the similarities in your social status mean you’re bound to run in some of the same circles, and Jake is able to use this to his advantage.
Ultimately, it takes very little digging on his part. First, he mentions your name to Jay in the middle of an upper body superset in the university gym. Jay frowns, setting the weights back on the rack.
“That name sounds familiar. I think maybe Heeseung knows her?”
That tidbit takes him to Wednesday night, which always finds Jake in the library at a statistics study group Heeseung also makes a habit of attending. On their way out for the evening, Jake stops him by the door.
“___?” Heeseung pauses for a moment in contemplation. “I’m pretty sure she’s friends with Sunghoon.”
And the third piece of the puzzle proves a bit more difficult to click into place. Sunghoon is harder for Jake to find, at least in a way that comes across naturally. Much like yours, Park Sunghoon is a name Jake hears in passing more than anything. He’s a friend of friends, a mutual acquaintance that Jake has never really had a conversation with and certainly doesn’t know well enough to interrogate for your phone number.
But his most recent midterm score is still looming over his head, and the thought of retaking econ again is so nightmarish it sends a shiver down his spine every time he considers it. At this point, there isn’t much Jake wouldn’t put on the line to pass the damn class. Including his pride, apparently.
So when Jake hears from Jay who hears from Heeseung that Sunghoon will probably be at the party Epsilon Nu Eta is throwing this Friday night, he starts to formulate a plan.
And he starts to regret said plan less than twenty-four hours later when he finds himself on the doorstep of a frat party. A frat party. He can’t remember the last time he came to one of these things. At twenty-one, he already feels geriatric as he tugs self-consciously at the sleeves of the plan black long sleeve he put on for the occasion. Something that will hopefully hide the questionable stains he’ll inevitably leave with.
Entering through the front door with hinges that don’t align quite right, Jake has one mission in mind: find Park Sunghoon. Find him and somehow convince him to pass along your number. There’s a fine line to be walked there, Jake thinks. If he comes across as too eager, it will just be creepy. Nonchalance is the name of the game, but he’s never been good at keeping his cards close to his chest.
For Jake, it’s a tall order, which means the only detour he’ll allow himself is grabbing a cup of lukewarm beer from the kitchen before he sets out looking for Sunghoon. The alcohol is an effort to break the barrier of his inhibitions more than anything. To make what he’s about to do feel a little less painful.
Making his way out of the kitchen, Jake wanders aimlessly for a few minutes. He doesn’t know much about Sunghoon, other than the fact that he competes for your university’s figure skating team and is undeniably handsome. A good-looking figure skater, Jake thinks as he turns down yet another crowded hallway, narrowly avoiding spilling his drink. Where would one of those be hiding?
He spends a few more awkward minutes asking around to no avail. Just when he’s on the verge of saying fuck it and making some sort of sacrifice to the econ gods instead, Jake bumps into the man of the hour on his way to the bathroom.
In the chaos, Jake doesn’t recognize him until it’s almost too late. “Hey,” Jake calls out, bladder all but forgotten for now. He’s trying to fake an air of coolness when he adds, “Sunghoon, right?”
“Yeah.” Jake thanks his lucky stars that Sunghoon must be at least two drinks in, because he doesn’t seem weirded out at all by the sudden question from a near stranger.
“I’m Jake.” He reaches his arm out for a handshake. Blinking, Sunghoon just stares at his outstretched hand as long, awkward moments bleed into each other. Eventually, Jake just lets it fall back to his side. “I’m, uh, in a statistics class with Heeseung.”
“Right on,” Sunghoon nods, still unsure if this conversation has a point to it. Luckily, the pleasant haze clouding his thoughts means he doesn’t mind too much either way.
Jake figures there’s no point in dragging this out by exchanging more pleasantries, and he has the feeling Sunghoon might start forgetting his own name, much less yours, if he lets this continue for too long.
“Listen,” Jake starts, trying to sound as not creepy as possible. “I heard that you know ___ pretty well.”
Sunghoon just shrugs. Jake can’t tell if he’s succeeded. “You could say that.”
“I know this is a strange request, but, uh,” Jake scratches the side of his head, “is there any chance I could get her number? I promise not to do anything weird.” Word vomiting, the extra details are spilling out before he can stop them. “It’s not even for me, actually–”
Sunghoon spares him the rest of a rambling explanation. “Sorry, bud. No can do.”
Jake’s stomach tightens in panic. He really, really just needs your phone number. It has him forgetting his earlier inhibitions, throwing caution to the wind even if he’s making a bit of a fool of himself in the process. “It’s for something important, actually. I’m kind of desperate–”
Sunghoon just puts a consolatory hand on Jake’s shoulder, interrupting his train of thought. “Look, man, it’s nothing against you personally, but I have literally never met you in my life. Besides, if I gave out ___’s number to every random guy that asked, I’m pretty sure she’d shave my head.” Sunghoon leans in close, like he’s about to share a secret. Jake’s nose twists at the scent of alcohol on his breath. “And between you and me, I don’t think I could pull off being bald.”
Jake kind of begs to differ, but that’s neither here nor there. He opens his mouth to plead his case again, but Sunghoon doesn’t even let him get a word out.
“Sorry, man, but I really can’t help you.” Pausing for a moment, he considers. “You said your name was Jacob, though, right?” He doesn’t pause long enough for Jake to correct him. “I could ask her if she’s cool with giving you her number–”
“Whose number are you giving out?” And if Jake thought this conversation wasn’t enough of a train wreck already, trust the timing of your entrance to be more disastrous than divine.
Eyes turning to you and your sudden intrusion on the conversation, Jake’s mind goes blank for a minute. And yeah, he kinda gets why his brother’s so hellbent on having a second chance at your time. Dressed in all black, your hair is loose around your face. Even though it likely costs more than most people’s monthly paycheck, there’s nothing inherently special about what you’re wearing. Still, Jake is finding it exceedingly difficult to look away.
It’s something in your aura, he thinks. In the way you carry yourself. Something that money can’t buy. Something that makes his gaze want to linger.
“___!” Sunghoon grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, wobbling slightly. You jostle at the sudden impact, inching away from where the contents of his cup slosh dangerously close to the rim. “What a coincidence. We were just talking about you.”
Your brow creases in confusion. Jake tracks the miniscule movement with parted lips.
“You were?”
“Yeah,” Sunghoon confirms, just at the same moment Jake shakes his head, “No.”
Turning your mildly concerned gaze away from your friend, you glance at Jake for the first time. Brow furrowing further, you cock your head to the side as your lips part in partial recognition. He looks oddly familiar, but you can’t quite place him. “Do I know you?”
“No.” Jake shakes his head again, a little too fervently. “I don’t think we’ve ever met. At least not properly.”
It’s an odd way of putting it. You’re about to ask him to clarify when Sunghoon cuts in, clearing up the confusion for you. “It’s Jacob,” he says, as if that should mean anything to you. Turning back to the boy across from him, he adds, “Jacob Sim, right?”
And that clicks things into place.
“Sim?” you echo, realization dawning on your features.
“Yep,” Sunghoon confirms.
Across from you, Jake says nothing. He doesn’t think he could if he wanted to. In fact, he’s pretty sure his life is flashing before his eyes.
“Sim,” you repeat one final time, jaw ticking in agitation as everything starts to settle. “I do know you.”
“Oh, really?” Sunghoon asks at your side, oblivious to the way your tone betrays obvious animosity. A distaste so palpable Jake can practically feel it radiating off of you. Turning back to Jake, he’s apologetic. “Sorry, Jacob. I guess I could have given you her number, then.” Sunghoon smiles sheepishly, as if he hasn’t just made things a million times worse. “My bad.”
Jake’s eyes widen in horror as he scrambles for some sort of defense, an explanation that will dig him out of this rapidly deepening hole, but you beat him to it.
“My number?” The look you give him has a concerning amount of venom in it. “Seriously? God, why are all you Sim men so obsessed with me?”
“That’s not–”
“First your brother views my LinkedIn profile twenty-three times after standing me up, and now you’re harassing my friends for my phone number?”
“Hold on. I’m not harassing anyone–”
“No,” Sunghoon agrees, nodding diplomatically. “Jacob was perfectly pleasant–”
“It’s Jake, actually.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, just Jake.”
“Sorry,” Sunghoon apologizes. Turning to you, he tries mediating again. “Well, like I said, just Jake was perfectly pleasant–”
“I don’t care how pleasant he is.” Your glare somehow becomes icier. “Leave me alone, and tell your dickhead brother to do the same.” Muttering to yourself more than anything, you add, “The last thing I need right now is you practically stalking me–”
“Stalking you?” Jake flounders, an edge of annoyance creeping into his tone. He’s not surprised to learn that you really do think the world revolves around you, but really? Stalking? “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s not like I’m enjoying this interaction any more than you are.”
You don’t back down, crossing your arms over your chest. The movement has Sunghoon teetering dangerously where he leans on you, but you pay him no mind, attention focused solely on the man in front of you. “Then why do you want my phone number so bad?”
“Like I was trying to say earlier when you wouldn’t let me get a word out sideways,” Jake bites, “it’s not for me. I made a deal with someone, and I told them I’d give them your number.”
Your gaze narrows. “Who?”
“What?”
“Who did you make a deal with?”
Jake hesitates, knowing how the truth will sound. Screw it – a lie would likely be just as damning. Still, it takes him another pregnant pause to eventually admit, “... My brother.”
Scoffing in disbelief, you double down on your ire. “Absolutely not.” Shaking Sunghoon off your shoulder, you turn to leave, dragging him with you. Jake’s eyes close; he can’t bear to watch his last chance at passing this semester leave him in the dust.
So much so that he pleads again, “Wait, ___. Please.” Jake is begging now, and he feels a little pathetic for it. Still, he can’t help the way desperation drives him to continue. “You can block him for all I care. I can’t explain everything, but my life is quite literally in your hands right now. I just need–”
“No.” The single syllable vibrates with finality. “Do I have to spell it for you? N-” you bite, enunciating so sharply Jake thinks you might draw blood. “O. No. I’m not giving my number to you or your flake of a brother or anyone else that so much as looks like they might have the name Sim.”
God, is the only think Jake can think as he miserably watches your retreating figure, Sunghoon stumbling along as you drag him with you. I am so fucked.
…
When Sunghoon finally emerges from your guest bedroom an hour before noon the next day, it’s to ask if you’d be kind enough to spare him some Advil. Even with a bad case of bedhead and the aftermath of overconsumption, he still manages to look good, albeit a little lifeless.
“I’ll do you one better,” you tell him, but reach for the small white bottle anyway, shaking out a few tablets and offering them to your best friend along with a glass of cold water.
“Bagels and coffee?” Sunghoon asks over the rim of his glass, with a little more alertness in his eyes than there was moments before.
“Bagels and coffee,” you confirm. A tried and true hangover cure, if there ever was one. And even though your head is feeling nice and clear, thanks to your trusty two drink limit that has yet to fail you, the local cafe a block from your apartment is very rarely something you turn down.
Thirty minutes later and a change of clothes later, the two of you are trading gossip and stealing bites of each other’s orders when the other person isn’t looking at the table in the back corner of the cafe. Sunghoon is just about to stuff another piece of your bagel in his mouth when he notices yet another notification light up the screen of your phone.
Sunghoon nods towards where it rests on the table, bagel suddenly forgotten. “Is that your mom again?”
“Yep.” Your lips stretch thin. You don’t even need to glance down at your phone to confirm. She’s been blowing up your notifications all weekend. “She’s been on my ass about the upcoming fundraiser event for days now. And reminding me about the utmost importance of bringing an appropriate plus-one.”
Across from you, Sunghoon straightens his shoulders. “I suppose it is about time I bust out the trusty old prom suit again.”
You sigh, sending your half-eaten bagel a forlorn glance. “I wish. She told me if I ever bring you again, I lose half my trust fund.”
“What?” Sunghoon looks affronted. “Why?”
You level him with a look. “Does soap ring a bell?”
Sunghoon splutters in indignation. “That was one time,” he defends. “And anyone would have thought those were edible! They were shaped like candies, and they were on a platter–”
“Soap presentation aside, I don’t think that excuse will work on her.” The dejection in your voice is apparent. “Besides, she’s already made it very clear that you’re explicitly forbidden from attending any future family events as my plus-one.”
“Whatever,” Sunghoon grumbles. “Keep all your stupid inedible soaps.” Pausing for a moment, he realizes that still leaves a giant question hanging in the air. “Who are you gonna bring, then? You know, it kind of is too bad your date with Sim number one didn’t pan out.”
You shrug, pointedly ignoring the way your phone screen lights up yet again. It really is a bit of a shame James turned out to be an unreliable flake. One that still hasn’t bothered to apologize to you or even give any sort of indication that he remembered your scheduled date. Still, you can’t think of anyone that would earn your mother’s approval faster. “I’ll probably just fake a stomach flu.” After all, you’re kind of out of options. “I thought about asking Jungwon, but he’s got stuff going on for his internship that night. A big economics conference or something.”
“Speaking of economics,” Sunghoon leans in conspiratorially. “I think I might have some intel on our new friend from last night.”
“How was economics the segue you went with? We were literally just talking about his older brother.” Giving him a look of disbelief, you add, “And what about that interaction gave you the impression that we’re friends?”
“Whatever,” Sunghoon brushes you off before he continues, “Anyway, I heard from Heeseung who heard from Jay that apparently little Sim is hot garbage at economics. Rumor has it he’s already failed the class twice and is on track to do it again.”
You’re not sure why he’s deemed this information relevant to you, but you’d be lying if you said it weren’t a little amusing.
“Really? Jungwon’s taking it now too, and he said that he sleeps through half the lectures and is still pulling an A.”
Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “Well, we can’t all be prodigies.”
Your lips flatten. “Pretty sure you don’t have to be a prodigy to not fail an entry level course three times.”
“Hey, cut him some slack,” Sunghoon argues. “He’s only failed it twice as of now.”
You scoff, entirely uninterested in the gory details of Jake Sim’s academic failures. “Whatever.”
“Either way,” Sunghoon says, “Jay told Heeseung who told me that’s why he’s so desperate for your number.” Confusion makes itself known on your features. You still don’t see the connection until Sunghoon adds, “Apparently he made some sort of deal with his brother that if he gets him your phone number, he’ll help him pass econ.”
A beat of silence passes between you. The barista at the counter calls out a customer’s name. It’s all you can do to not let your jaw physically drop open, mostly because–
“That is probably the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” Glaring at Sunghoon, you can’t believe the theatrics of it all. “How many times have I told you to stop believing everything Heeseung says?”
“Technically, Jay said it,” Sunghoon corrects. “And I don’t know... It kind of makes sense when you think about it.”
You beg to differ. “It absolutely does not. What is this, middle school? Are we passing notes behind the teacher’s back and making our friends ask our crushes if they like us back?” It’s ridiculous. Absolutely, utterly ridiculous.
There is no way. Absolutely no way that James Sim, heir to a multimillion dollar company, is wasting his time giving his little brother an economics cheat sheet in exchange for your phone number.
Sunghoon raises his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I just thought you might be curious.”
And you hate to admit it, but you kind of are. Even though every ounce of logic you’ve accumulated in twenty-one years of life tells you that Heeseung is a notorious gossip whose stories are just as much fiction as reality and your best friend is no better. Even though the whole thing makes absolutely no sense at all.
Even though you repeat it to yourself over and over for the rest of the day, that damn curiosity is still there. Pestering you and disturbing your sleep and leaving you wondering if maybe, just maybe, some things are entirely too ridiculous to be anything but true.
…
On Wednesday night, Jake and Heeseung are in the middle of a particularly brutal probability set when a sudden shadow looms over their favorite corner table on the third floor of the library.
Glancing up, Jake finds Heeseung’s gaze already trained somewhere over his shoulder. Jake can’t quite tell if the look on his face is confusion or terror.
“Mind if I join?” The request comes from behind him, posed in an oddly familiar voice. Heeseung is nodding in agreement before Jake has the chance to so much as turn around and identify the intruder.
All is revealed soon enough, though, when you slide down into the seat next to him, ignoring the way Heeseung scrambles to move his things and make room for you in the seat next to him. Instead, you busy yourself with setting your bag on the floor and pulling out your laptop.
It’s all Jake can do to stare at you blankly. This evening, you’ve traded the all black outfit from the other night’s party for something a bit more casual, something comfortable that blends in better to the background of a university library. The sudden proximity also means that the scent of your perfume is quick to waft over towards him.
Jake does his best to hold his breath before his brain can trick him into thinking he likes it.
“Stop looking at me like that.” A bold request for someone who just hijacked a study session and sat down with no explanation, but Jake wouldn’t expect anything less from you.
“Like what?” The words are out before he gives them permission. Across the table, Heeseung is staring too, but all three of you know the command isn’t for him.
“I don’t know.” Glancing at the battery bar hovering just above empty, you dig around in your bag for a moment for your laptop charger. Jake notes that you still have yet to look at him. Instead, you begin to busy yourself with typing something on your computer. “Just stop it.”
He hopes you can feel the way his eyes burn holes into the side of your head as his blank stare shifts into a glare.
Heeseung glances between the two of you. His outburst is sudden. “Oh! I just remembered.” He hits his head for good measure. The acting is wasted on this audience, though. Neither of you pay him any mind or even bother to glance in his direction. “I have to go, uh…” he trails off, finishing lamely with a rather flat, “somewhere else.”
“Great.” Your eyes don’t leave your screen, fingers still flying on your keyboard. “See you later.”
As Heeseung scrambles to pack up his unfinished statistics homework and high tail it out of the library, the air that has suddenly become stifling, Jake glances down at where your fingers are still moving.
Distractedly, he wonders how you can type so fast with nails that long, how you never seem to need the backspace key. How none of the pastel pink that coats your fingernails seems to be so much as chipped. A projection of perfection, he thinks, down to every last detail.
Moments pass, neither of you saying anything.
You still haven’t looked at him by the time you do eventually break the impasse. “I heard you suck at econ.”
And Jake actually cannot believe you. “Did you seriously hunt me down just to rub it in?”
“Rub it in?” That at least earns him some of your attention, even if it is just a brief, confused glance as your fingers pause in their typing. “It’s not like I’m the reason you can’t pass.”
“Believe it or not, you quite literally are.”
You sigh, removing your hands from your keyboard entirely. Then, before he can blink, you spin your entire body in your chair, eyes, shoulders, and knees all directly trained on him. Jake can’t help the way he flinches back a few inches at the sudden change in pace.
“Look,” you start. He can already tell by the way you wrap the single syllable sound in patronization that he’s not going to appreciate whatever you’re about to say. “I can tell that you’re not used to, like, having conversations with people, but usually what happens is you give someone enough information so that they know what you’re talking about.” He’s right.
And he’s quick to defend himself. “Maybe I could, if you’d let me get three words out without interr–”
But you’ve moved on already. “Is the whole ‘deal with your brother’ thing true?”
Jake lets the silence linger for a moment, looking at you in disbelief. “You literally just proved my point.”
You roll your eyes. “I knew what you were going to say, so I sped things along. Now answer my question.” You lay it out for him again. This time, even more directly. “Did you try to get my number because of some deal you made with your brother?”
He’s not sure why it sounds so ridiculous, narrated back to him in your voice. It’s not like it was a brilliant, foolproof plan to begin with, but the way you present it has him feeling about five inches tall.
“I…”
“It’s a yes or no question.” You really don’t beat around the bush, he thinks.
“Yes, okay?”
Looking behind you, you suddenly lean in a little closer. It’s all Jake can do not to flinch back again. Bringing your hand up to cup your mouth, it’s like you’re about to divulge a terrible secret when you whisper, “You’re that bad at econ?”
Jake just sighs. “Worse, probably.”
Frowning, you pull back a few inches. “Aren’t you a business major? Isn’t econ, like, pretty important for you?” If he were thinking clearly, Jake might wonder how you know that. But that only thing his mind has space for right now is annoyance. At you, at this exchange, at the way you so easily pick through his flaws and seem to have no problem laying them bare at his feet like he doesn't already know them intimately.
“Yeah, well, it’s not like I got any say in my major,” Jake counters. He might have more patience for this conversation if he were having it with anyone but you, if you weren’t throwing his own insecurities back in his face with every follow-up question.
At that, something flickers through your eyes. Sympathy, maybe. “Fair enough.” Whatever it is, it’s gone before he can identify it. And it’s not enough to make you pull your punches. “Still though, that’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Jake doesn’t need the reminder. “Just get a tutor like everyone else.”
The thing is, Jake has thought about it. On more than one occasion. He’s even gotten so far as filling out the university tutor request form. He just could never quite bring himself to complete the ‘Name’ field without all of the potential consequences forcing him to hit backspace.
He might not be his brother, but he’s not stupid enough to think that his family would ever be okay with the Sim name anywhere near a tutor form. He tells you as much. “And listen to my dad tell me how much of a disappointment I am for not being able to even take a class on my own?” Jake laughs humorlessly. “No thanks.”
A beat passes. Two. You’re not done yet, but you at least have the decency to sound a little apologetic, a little tentative when you say, “Not to kick you while you’re down or anything, but I mean, that has to be better than failing twice.”
Jake just shakes his head. “You don’t know my father.”
You shrug but don’t press the matter further. Truth be told, you don’t know his father, but you do know fathers like him. You have one of your own. The third floor of the library doesn’t seem like the place for that conversation, though, even if you’ve already uncovered more than your fair share of each other’s secrets in the last ten minutes. “I guess not.”
…
Your phone is buzzing far too incessantly for a Saturday morning, much less this early on a Saturday morning. Internally, you curse Friday night you, who forgot to switch it into do not disturb before falling asleep. Face still buried in your pillow, you reach around your nightstand blindly with the intention of remedying that particular mistake and enjoying a few more moments of peace.
Before you can make good on your plan, you make the fatal mistake of reading the message preview before silencing your phone. And suddenly, to your neverending annoyance, you’re wide awake.
Mom [7:36 am]: Looking forward to seeing you next Saturday at the fundraiser.
Mom [7:37 am]: I also noticed that you haven’t indicated who you’ll be bringing yet. Please fill out the RSVP form when you have a moment.
Mom [7:45 am]: James Sim hasn’t RSVP’d yet. Are you bringing him? You should invite him if you haven’t already.
Mom [7:53 am]: I also never heard the update after your date a few weeks ago. Hoping no news is good news. I just spoke with his father the other day, and it sounds like he’s doing great things over at their company.
Mom [8:01 am]: I also heard that he volunteered a few summers ago rebuilding turtle habitats. Wow! I think you two would get along very well.
Groaning, you flip your phone back over. That about sums up how well she knows her only daughter, you think ruefully. If she thought wooing you with turtles was a good idea, she must have forgotten that you’ve had a lingering phobia of the freaky little reptiles since your friend from elementary school had a pet turtle that bit your finger when you were at her house.
Besides, you have serious doubts that’s actually how James Sim spent his last summer in university.
If memories from your social media scrolling serve correctly, rebuilding turtle habitats was code for partying on a yacht for a month straight. You don’t care how he spends his free time, but the way he already has your mother wrapped around his stupid finger is enough to annoy any lingering sleepiness out of your system.
Whatever. James Sim’s white lies are the least of your concerns now, and they certainly won’t solve your problems. If anything, you’re starting to regret not telling your mother anything about your failed attempt at a first date with him. Now, trying to explain that disaster of an evening would only sound like an excuse at best and a flimsy lie at worst.
And even if she did believe you, you still have the glaring issue of next Saturday and your lack of a pre-approved plus-one.
With one final groan, you pull your blanket over your face, trying and failing to banish any thoughts of your mother, James Sim, and the certain disaster next weekend will be.
Despite your best efforts, your worries linger. They follow you into Sunday; they start to make you desperate on Monday. With a diminishing handful of days left until the fundraiser, your anxiety only surges.
By the time Wednesday rolls around, you’re so stressed out that you can barely force your eyes to focus on the nearly blank Word document in front of you, all of the legalese and case details you can usually sort through in your sleep jumbling into one incomprehensible blob.
Halfway through your third reread of a paragraph that details the basics of copyright law, it strikes you. The seedling of an idea so utterly ridiculous it just might be your saving grace.
Your mother probably, definitely, couldn’t care less about James Sim’s so-called affinity for wildlife rescue. No, the only thing that makes him an appropriate candidate in her eyes for this Saturday has nothing to do with his personality at all.
It’s his name that she likes. His family name specifically.
In the middle of your favorite cafe, it hits you. The seedling of an idea sprouts roots, begins to bloom.
If one Sim is good enough to be your plus-one, then surely the other one would be too.
And you know exactly where he’ll be tonight. Glancing down at the time on your phone, you force your brain to think. Now, all you need is a plan. A way to convince him. Something he can’t refuse.
Closing the lid of your laptop, you smile. You know exactly what it is he wants.
Before you leave the cafe, you send a quick message to a friend. Set your plan in place so that the details are polished, irrefutable when you present it to him.
And then you set out for the university library.
When you find Jake and Heeseung sitting at the same exact table on the third floor of the library, Heeseung doesn’t even bother to stick around for the customary greetings. Instead, he takes one single look at you before offering another flimsy excuse about having somewhere to be. Or maybe something to do. You can’t remember, and it doesn’t really matter.��
After all, the only reason you’re here is because–
“I have a way for you to pass econ.” Sliding into the seat next to Jake, the same one you sat in last time, you don’t waste any time before divulging the reason for your presence.
If Jake is startled, he doesn’t show it. Statistics homework forgotten on the table, the only thing you see on his face is pure, obvious relief as his shoulders relax.
“Thank god.” Reaching for his phone, he unlocks it, tapping and swiping until he’s ready to enter a new contact. “Give me your number, and I’ll–”
You shake your head, interrupting his train of thoughts. The way you smile makes him suddenly uneasy. He thought this was over, but now he’s not so sure. You confirm his fears when you say, “A different way.”
Now Jake just looks exasperated. If you keep up this habit, he’s about to start failing statistics too. Never mind the fact that he got his hopes up for what he is sure will turn out to be a giant pile of nothing. Still, he humors you. “What do you mean, a different way?”
“I mean,” you start, folding your hands across your lap. Jake has the distinct impression that you’re trying your best to be as convincing as possible. If nothing else, it does pique his curiosity. He’s never seen you be anything but annoyed or uninterested. It’s an interesting change of pace.“I have a friend who’s also taking econ right now and hasn’t scored below a 98 on a single assignment.” Jesus, Jake thinks. Must be nice.
And then you drop the bomb on him. “He said he’s more than willing to tutor you. For money, of course.” you specify, moving on so quickly he hardly has the chance to process what you’re saying. “And it’s not like you can’t afford it, but I’ll split the cost with you. For the principle of it all.” There’s a beat of silence as what you’ve just said settles into the air. “Oh,” you add, remembering the most important detail. “And he’ll be discreet. Under the table tutoring, if you will. No chance of word getting back to Daddy Sim.”
You do your best to give him your most trustworthy smile. Jake just stares back at you, mildly horrified.
When he finally speaks again, it’s to say, “... Please, and I mean this with every single bone in my body, please never refer to my father like that again.”
Not even bothering to look sheepish, the only agreement you offer is a mock salute.
Your poor taste in nicknames aside, it does seem like a pretty sweet deal from where Jake is sitting. He cannot fail economics again, and getting a tutor would mean that his brother couldn’t hold his success over his head, couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for it. And a discreet tutor would be even better. Not going through the official university system would mean a much lower chance of his father ever finding out he got some help along the way.
All things considered, and very much to his surprise, Jake is having a hard time seeing any downsides.
He goes through the list again. First, he gets to pass economics. Second, he doesn’t have to deal with his older brother in the process. Third, he gets a tutor that won’t pop up on his father’s radar, and all Jake has to do in return is–
Wait.
“Hold on a minute.” There’s an unmistakable edge of suspicion in Jake’s voice. There’s no way you went out of your way to find him a tutor, to help pay for it, without getting something in return. The wheels in his mind are starting to spin when he asks, “What’s in it for you?”
Next to him, you smile. It’s small, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you almost look nervous. “It’s just a small favor, really.” The expression on your face is not reassuring in the slightest. Still, you insist, “It’ll be easy, I promise. Just a few hours of your time at most.”
Jake knows better than to agree without details. And especially to anything you’re proposing. He’s already preparing to kiss his dreams of passing econ goodbye when he asks slowly,“What is it?”
You sigh, pretenses dropping. If you’re going to convince him now, you might as well do it with honesty. “That annual charity fundraiser event my parents throw. Your parents are usually there, I think. I don’t know if you’ve ever gone?”
Jake shrugs, frowning as he tries to remember. He’s not entirely sure either. After a while, fundraisers and events and family obligations all start to blur together. Although the name does ring a bell, albeit a distant, faint one.
“Anyway,” you continue, “my mother is insistent that I bring a date. Someone she considers appropriate company. You know, runs in the same circles and comes from what she would consider a good family.” Jake nods. He does know exactly what you mean. Picking up on his agreement, you add with a twinge of hopefulness, “Like I said, it would be easy. Especially for you, since you’re used to this kind of stuff. I wouldn’t have to train you–”
That has Jake rolling his eyes. “Let me guess. I get a treat for rolling over?”
The ice in your glare is half hearted. “You know what I mean. There are certain…” You weigh your words carefully. “expectations at these things.” Pausing for a moment, you add, “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t think you’ll eat the soap, even if it’s candy shaped and on a platter.”
If you were trying to clarify your point, you did a terrible job. Jake’s brow pulls downwards in confusion. “Is that supposed to be some kind of metaphor?”
“Unfortunately not.” You shake your head, but don’t explain any further. Sunghoon’s mishaps are not the point of this conversation. A mutually beneficial deal is. Which is why you ask him, “So, what do you say? Are you in or not?”
Is he? Jake says nothing, considering. Mentally, he goes through the list of pros and cons. Pros, he thinks. I get to finally pass econ, and I get to do it without my brother. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, gaze tracking the movement as you nervously bite at your lower lip. Also, I get to show up at an event with the girl he’s been trying to get for weeks now.
He’d be lying if that didn't spark a certain warm feeling in his chest, if it didn’t inspire a sudden bout of preemptive vindication. But there are other things to consider.
Cons, he continues internally. I have to spend an entire evening at an event hosted by your family and make them believe you don’t annoy the ever-loving shit out of me.
Weighing his options, Jake has one more question. “How long would it be?” he asks, and you try to stifle a grin, as if he’s already told you yes.
“The event is technically four hours,” you say carefully, “but I’m sure we could manage to sneak out after a solid two and a half.”
Jake nods, thinking it over a moment longer.
“Okay,” he finally breathes, hoping this isn’t some kind of terrible, elaborate trick, that he isn’t about to sign his life away on a dotted line.
For econ, he thinks. For what’s left of his struggling GPA. He can manage a single night at a mind-numbingly boring high society function. Even if it’s with you. “I’m in.”
And it feels a bit strange, he has to admit, as he watches you type your contact information into his contact list. It feels odd to have your number in his phone with no intention of passing it on. To know that he’s the one who will be using it to confirm the details of this Saturday. To know that his brother will be none the wiser and not at all closer to having any kind of access to you.
And if that strange surge of smugness makes another sudden appearance, well, Jake just figures that no one ever has to know about it.
…
Frowning, you give yourself another once over in the full length mirror that sits next to your vanity. A shimmering, pale gold, the evening gown that flows over your figure was hand-selected by you for this very event. For some reason, you’re having a hard time rediscovering the magic you’d felt trying it on in the showroom here in the soft, ambient light of your bedroom.
Objectively, you’re sure you must look good. The compliments the store attendants had given you were more than just customary, and gold has always been your color. Still, a slew of sudden uncertainties simmer in your gut. Is the slight sparkle too garish? Does the gold wash you out? Your worries feel too big for your bedroom, at too stark an opposition with the peaceful ambience as soft, instrumental music plays from your speaker.
But this particular Saturday evening has its ways of making you feel jumbled where you’d typically be steadfast. Insecure where you’d usually find confidence.
It’s true that your mother has always had a critical eye, and especially where you’re concerned. If you were to search deep enough, however, you’d find that she’s not the person you’re most concerned about making a lasting impression on tonight.
With no small effort, you resist the urge to smooth out invisible wrinkles in the bodice of your dress. A nervous habit more than anything, it’s only exacerbated by the way your phone is still devoid of notifications. The clock on your nightstand is a reminder that your date for the evening should be here any minute, should be sending a message as confirmation of his arrival at your apartment. But your phone is still silent, even as the hour of the fundraiser draws nearer and nearer.
Maybe this was a terrible mistake, you think, a new bout of uncertainties beginning to brew. It shouldn't be a surprise, really. Trust him to be just as flakey as his brother, with absolutely no regard for previous commitments or anyone else’s time. It’s just your luck that you get stood up again, this time by the other Sim.
You're in the middle of disguising your fears and distracting yourself by cursing him and his future bloodline when your phone finally pings with an incoming notification. Well, you think, grabbing your coat, feeling a bit ridiculous for the slight overreaction, you’ll have to look into removing generational curses when you have the time.
For now, you settle with pulling on your heels for the evening, ignoring the way you feel a bit wobbly despite the fact that you’ve walked in far worse. Locking your apartment behind you and striking a slightly unsteady pace towards the elevator down the hall, you whisper a silent plea that tonight isn’t as much of a disaster as you’re afraid it could be.
You watch as the numbers on the elevator screen tick lower and lower, a swirling mix of dread and excitement starting to swim in your stomach. When you finally reach the first floor, you’re surprised to see a familiar face waiting for you in the lobby. Something in you softens, albeit just slightly. You’d incorrectly assumed he would just wait for you in the comfort of his car and spent the whole ride down preparing to awkwardly check license plates in the near dark till you found the right one.
An overwhelming sense of self-consciousness returns to you under the brightness of the lobby lights. Unconsciously, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, wondering how long it will take him to notice you as you begin to walk towards him. You’ve only made it a few steps when it strikes you that he’s already distracted by something else.
Across the lobby, Jake Sim is engaged in a conversation with your doorman. One that looks slightly heated, by your judgment.
As you get closer, their words become more audible.
“Like I just told you,” The exasperation in your date’s voice is apparent. “I’m here to see ___.”
And you really should make your presence known, should step in and divert the brewing argument, especially since you seem to be the subject of it.
But then you look at Jake. Really look at him.
Realistically, you knew he would come well-dressed. That had been a big part of your reason for choosing him. The Sunghoon soap fiasco aside, you already knew Jake Sim wasn’t someone who needed you to put together a PowerPoint presentation on formal event dress code. He didn’t need you to explain the concept of complementary colors or the advantages of getting a suit tailored. Didn’t need you to explain that Converse were not an appropriate show or that no, a bolo tie is not acceptable attire.
Up until now, you were grateful for his pre existing knowledge. It saved you a lot of time and effort that you could use to focus on other things, like getting ready yourself. But it also meant that you were entirely unprepared to see him like this.
Eyes scanning him again, the immaculate fit of his suit is undeniable, as is the way his dark hair is perfectly mussed. It’s styled enough to avoid withering comments from elderly attendees who have the habit of asking how people see with their hair covering their eyes. But it’s also messy in a way that looks intentional, in a way that makes you want to run your fingers through it, tug at it just a little, just to tease.
It’s not just that he’s dressed well, though, despite the fact that he undeniably is.
No, what has you freezing in your footsteps is the fact that Jake looks good.
“And like I just told you, you’re not on her guest list. So I’m sorry, sir.” There is not a single trace of apology in your doorman’s voice. “But I’m afraid I can’t let you up. You’ll have to contact her and ask her to add you to her guest list.” You’re not sure how he manages to do it without losing any professionality, but your doorman makes it very clear that he thinks that will happen just as soon as hell freezes over.
Jake’s shoulders tense in visible frustration. You have to suppress an actual sigh at the way fabric stretches over the muscle there. “Again, I’m not asking you to. Could you please just let her know that I’m here? She’s not answering her messages–”
“How odd.” The sarcasm is unmistakable.
Getting a little desperate, Jake ignores the slight and continues anyway. “And we’re on a bit of a time crunch, so–”
From here, you can see the way his features start to twist in panic. It’s sobering enough to snap you out of your trance.
Cutting in, you make your presence known. “It’s okay,” you tell your doorman first. “I know him.” Then, you turn to Jake, putting on an award-worthy performance of false nonchalance when you explain, “Sorry I didn’t respond to your message. I was just on my way down.”
You watch as some of the tension drains from his features. “That’s alright,” Jake concedes easily. “I just wanted to make sure we weren’t late.”
A funny feeling, a new one, stirs again. Something in you softens. “I appreciate that.”
You can’t help the way you take another look at him. At his suit, his hair, his face. At him, at all of it.
Mistaking your gaze for scrutiny, he asks, a bit self-consciously, “What do you think? Will your mother approve?”
She will. There’s no doubt in your mind. But you’re not looking at him through her eyes when you tell him, “Yeah, you look good. Really good.”
The last part probably wasn’t necessary, but the way he flushes makes it almost worth it. Casting your eyes downward in an effort to hide a smile, you notice a detail that you missed earlier.
Jewelry. Gold jewelry. A handful of rings on his fingers and a delicate bracelet on his left wrist.
Suddenly, his message from last night makes a little more sense.
Jake [9:02 pm]: What color is your dress for tomorrow?
You [9:08 pm]: Gold. Don’t worry about trying to match. A black suit will be just fine.
Now, you’re grateful he didn’t fully listen to you, touched that he even bothered to ask.
Across from you, Jake is suddenly having a bit of a hard time breathing. The earlier near-fiasco with your doorman all but forgotten, you’re still admiring his bracelet as his eyes scan the length of you, throat bobbing by the time his gaze makes its way back up to your face.
“You, uh,” he coughs. “You look nice too.”
“Thank you.” You miss the way his gaze wanders, can’t seem to find a place to land that won’t dust the tops of his cheekbones an even deeper shade of crimson. “I’ve been looking forward to wearing this dress forever.”
And it is a nice dress, Jake thinks, but he’s not sure how to tell you that’s not what he meant.
Eyes finally landing on your feet, or rather, on the stilettos you’re wearing, he frowns. “I had to park kind of far away.” Meeting your gaze, he adds, “Why don’t you wait here? I’ll pull the car around front.”
“Okay.” Something in you melts a bit at his consideration, at the fact that he even noticed. “Thank you.”
And it is nice, you think, to not be beginning the evening with your feet already sore. To have someone pick up on the little things, even if he’s being compensated for it in the form of half-price tutoring.
Sliding into the passenger seat, you try not to sigh like a lovesick schoolgirl when he opens the door for you, when he puts his hand on the back of your seat as he reverses the car out of its parking spot. Get it together, you think. You’ve turned up your nose at far more obvious attempts at wooing you, and it’s not like Jake is here with you out of his own volition. The thought is surprisingly disappointing, as he adjusts the stereo, soft music filling the silence.
The drive passes like that, in a quiet that’s only uncomfortable if you look at it too close. Eventually, the soft melodies filtering through the stereo become a pleasant sort of background noise as you watch the world blur outside the window.
It would be smart, probably, to sort out your story for the evening and put together something coherent for when the two of you are inevitably asked invasive questions, but you can’t bring yourself to be the one to disturb the peace.
So when you arrive at the fundraiser a handful of minutes later, you just have to hope that the image the two of you strike together will be enough to stave off any unwanted questions for the time being.
Again, Jake opens your car door for you, offers a steadying hand as you step out of it. And when he gives you his arm as you enter through the front door of the venue, you take it, wrapping your fingers around his elbow. Pausing just outside the entrance, you watch as he takes a deep breath.
“Ready?” You’re not sure if you’re asking him or yourself.
Jake answers for the both of you. “Let’s do this.”
Walking through the lobby, you hand your jackets to the coat check attendant before entering the ballroom where the fundraiser is held. Despite your general distaste for this evening and everything it entails – you sneak a glance at your partner in crime. Well, mostly everything – you can’t help but admire the space around you.
Decorated immaculately down to every last element, your mother truly doesn’t spare any expense or detail when it comes to throwing parties. And like always, she somehow manages to have a sharp eye on everything and everyone, no matter how chaotic or busy. You’ve hardly taken two steps inside the ballroom when she finds you, approaches you will all the grace of a panther stalking its prey.
Pulling you in for a quick hug, the warm greeting she gives you is more for the benefit of onlookers than for you. And it forces you to remove your hand from Jake’s arm.
Looking over your shoulder, her voice is sickeningly saccharine. “And this must be James,” she beams, making eye contact with the wrong brother. Directing her attention to him, she gushes, “My daughter has told me wonderful things about you.”
Your eyebrows raise in disbelief. Jake stifles a laugh, expertly turns it into a cough.
Really? You think. She did all that digging on James’ so-called turtle philanthropy but never bothered to pull up a picture of the guy? And you mean, standard genetic similarities aside, it’s not like the two of them look that much alike.
“Actually, mom,” you spare him the expense of having to correct her mistake, “this is Jake Sim. James’ brother. We go to school together.”
“Oh,” her eyebrows fall at the slip, no doubt an unforgivable social faux pas in her mind. “You never filled out the RSVP form, sweetie,” she somehow makes the term of endearment sound like a curse, “so I wasn’t sure who you’d be bringing.” Trust her to find a way to make her mistake your fault.
Turning back to your date, she tries to remedy her mistake. “Jake, then.” She offers him a smile so forced you’re surprised her cheeks aren’t aching. Looking back at you, she fishes, “And he’s your…?”
Her dangling bait goes untouched. “He’s my plus-one.” It’s an intentional choice of words on your part. In your mind, it’s a neutral enough term that will hopefully let you navigate the evening without too many rumors or invasive questions about your personal life from people you only speak to out of reluctant obligation.
Jake is less used to the way your mother tends to poke and prod, the way she likes to examine the superficial details of your life with a microscope and make sure she can frame them in a way that will be pleasing for public perception. The way she doesn’t ask about your love life because it’s of any genuine interest to her, but because she wants sole control of the rumor mill’s production.
Next to you, he stiffens, feels as though he’s already failed some kind of test he didn’t know he was taking, wasn’t given any materials to study for.
There’s a lot to be said, probably, about the way you pick up on his discomfort so easily. The way your hand returns to the crook of his elbow wordlessly and gives a single, gentle squeeze. Reassuring him, putting his nerves at ease, as you begin to navigate your way out of this conversation.
“We’d better find our seats,” you tell your mother. The only reason Jake can identify the icy edge hiding in the superficial sweetness of your voice is because he’s been on the receiving end of it. On multiple occasions. Directed at someone else, he finds it almost amusing. “Wouldn't want to miss anything.”
“Of course,” your mother concedes, but there’s an undertone there. Jake can tell that there’s a war being waged here, battles and skirmishes in subtext and stilted pauses. He’s no stranger to the way high society likes to wrap up insults in niceties and skirt around delicate topics, but his own family has never been anything but blunt when it comes to their distaste for him and his choices.
He’s still not entirely sure what he just witnessed, but you’re dragging him by his arm to find your assigned table before he can sort through the offending slights and put on armor that may be of any use to you.
Carefully arranged, the maze of tables is easy enough to navigate. Each seat has a white place card in front of it, embossed with a shimmery golden script that matches your dress and holds the name of the guest who’s been assigned to sit there.
You drag Jake past a flurry of names and attendees he half recognizes, stopping only to grab two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter, handing one to Jake before you continue on your mission. After another minute of searching, you find your name at a table a few rows out from the far wall. Rolling your eyes, you can practically hear your mother’s reasoning: Not too close to the wall. Wouldn’t want people thinking I’m trying to hide her. But certainly not anywhere near the center of the room, in case she falls into that pesky habit of being an awful embarrassment.
Standing behind your chair, your eyes find the place card stationed in front of the seat next to yours at the same time Jake’s do.
“Oh my god.” The exasperation is apparent, even though your words are barely audible where you mutter them under your breath.
Because of course this hasn’t already been enough of a train wreck. Because of course the place card next to yours doesn’t have Jake’s name on it. Nope, embossed in the same shimmery gold is the name of another person entirely.
James Sim.
You turn to your date, apologetic. “God, I’m sorry. I really didn’t fill out the RSVP form, but I didn’t think she’d just assume…”
“It’s okay.” Jake gives you some grace. “Really, it wouldn’t be the first time.” And all things considered, he kind of is in his brother’s seat tonight. Attending an event that’s better suited for the future head of the company than his forgotten younger brother. Accompanying the girl that public opinion surely dictates would be a better match for him.
Still, you frown. Reaching for the small clutch that sits against your hip, you rummage for a moment before pulling out a black permanent marker.
Jake glances at you sideways.Your bag of the evening is tiny, barely even big enough to hold your phone. He’s surprised you managed to fit the marker in there, much less prioritize it enough to bring it with you. “You carry that thing around with you all the time?”
You shrug. “Never know when you’ll need to do some DIY vandalism.”
It would be a lie if he said something in him doesn’t soften, just a bit, when he watches you reach for the place card in front of his seat and put a giant, bold X over his brother’s name.
Your handwriting is no match for the computer-generated script, but Jake still likes the place card a little better when you’re done with it, likes the way his name looks next to yours when you set it back on the table, alterations completed.
“There,” you say, looking entirely too satisfied with your handiwork. “All better.” This time, you slide down into your seat before Jake has the chance to pull it out for you. Turning to him as he tentatively takes the seat next to you, he finds a small frown on your lips. “Wait,” you pause, realization written across your features. “Your brother isn’t coming, right?”
Jake shakes his head. “I mean, I don’t know for sure, but I doubt it. He has no reason to come. My parents are on a business trip, so they won’t be here either. And that also probably means he’s more swamped than usual at the office.”
Nodding, you take a sip of champagne. “Good.” Pausing, your lips quirk. “Although it would be kind of funny if he–”
“I think you’re in my seat.” The sudden interruption is flat, leaves no room for arguments.
Startled, the two of you spin in your chairs.
James Sim, despite his brother’s predictions, is in fact not otherwise occupied at his office. Instead, he stands directly behind his younger sibling, strikes an imposing figure where his shadow blocks the chandelier light behind him and extends over his brother and his altered place card.
Eyes flaming, he looks at where his name has been crossed out. Replaced.
Next to Jake, you remain silent, figure that you’ll let Jake handle this one the way he let you handle your mother. Far be it from you to step in on a family matter.
But then you notice the way Jake shrinks a little in his seat, hides a little further in his brother’s shadow. Reaches for the place card like he wishes he could take it back.
Sliding your gaze back to your least favorite Sim sibling, your voice is even, albeit icy, when you point out the obvious, “It’s not actually. Can’t you read?” Jake’s hand stops in its tracks, falls back to his lap.
A quick look your way is the only indication James even hears you. Instead, he continues his one-sided conversation with his brother, a barely controlled sort of fury crossing over his expression. “Hm,” he muses, glancing between the two of you. “Sure seems like you two are awfully close.” Casting an accusatory glare at Jake, he adds, “That’s funny. I could have sworn you said you barely knew her.”
Her. You’re sitting right there, and you don’t even get a name.
It doesn’t go unnoticed by Jake either. And it turns out to be just what he needs to find his voice. You’re almost proud of the sarcasm he manages to muster when he counters, “Yeah, well, this funny thing happens when you spend time together. You actually get to know each other.” Straightening his spine, there’s an unmistakable edge in his voice when he adds, “You know, when you actually bother to show up, that is.”
You hide a laugh behind your hand, albeit not very well. Glancing at Jake, a feeling swells in your chest that you can only identify as pride. You didn’t know he had it in him.
Reassessing his strategy, James turns to you, forcing a nonchalance that is entirely contradicted by the way his cheeks are rapidly reddening. “Actually, ___,” he tries, acting as if the last thirty seconds faded out of existence at his will. “I was hoping to speak to you about something. I’d love to get you a drink if you–”
“Actually,” Jake cuts in, doubling down. “We already have drinks.” Behind you on the table, the two near full glasses of champagne are undeniable evidence. The laugh that spills out of you this time is impossible to hide. Yeah, you decide, between the two of them, you definitely hate James more. Entirely amused, the only thing you wish you had is a bowl of popcorn as you root for the underdog. Not that he needs it. Much to your satisfaction, he’s been landing his punches well.
The giggle dies on your lips, though, when you feel the warmth of another hand suddenly cover the top of yours where it rests on your thigh. Gaze flaming, James follows the movement. Startled, your eyes fly to Jake. The only view you’re offered is of his profile as he keeps his gaze trained on his brother, the challenge in his features unmistakable.
The only consolation he offers for your sudden shock is a small, reassuring squeeze against your knuckles.
And then he says, “And I’d like to keep my girlfriend right here, actually.” At that, he does finally turn to you, eyes pleading, gaze imploring when he seeks your permission. Even though they’re performative in nature, his words aren’t solely for James’ benefit. “If that’s alright with you, that is.”
Girlfriend.
You were perfectly happy in the role of the observer, but now Jake has dragged you into the spotlight. Even though it pains you, you know you can’t leave him hanging. Not when that would mean a sure victory for his dickhead of a brother.
Girlfriend. The word echoes in your head, has you feeling dizzy.
“Of course,” you return hollowly, barely recognizing the sound of your own voice over the sudden rushing in your ears. “Boyfriend.”
When you smile at him, you make sure it looks sickeningly sweet enough to deter James. Your eyes, however, flash with a warning only Jake can read.
“You’re dating?” James can’t hide his shock, and his outrage is just as obvious.
“Yep,” Jake passes you a panicked look. But you don’t need it, don’t need his convincing. You’ve already dug yourself a deep enough hole. Trying to climb out now would only mean everything crumbles.
“Sure are,” you confirm with a tight smile. Turning back to Jake, you add, “Actually, sweetie, I need to talk to you about, uh…” you scramble for a moment. Finish vaguely with, “that thing.”
“Right.” Jake picks up on the threat in your eyes seamlessly, knows there’s only one acceptable response. “That thing,” he echoes.
“Yeah, so,” you turn back to James, barely acknowledging him as you start to stand. “We’re gonna step out for a minute.”
Jake is all but putty in your hands as you switch the positioning of your grip so that the hand that was resting on yours is now encased firmly between your fingers.
“See you later,” are Jake’s breathless parting words to his brother.
“Hopefully not, though,” you alter.
And then you’re dragging him back through the crowd towards the exit, and it’s all Jake can do to not run into the other guests or knock over the delicately balanced trays of hors d’oeuvres waiters carry throughout the room. He’s at your mercy all the way through the double doors of the ballroom, and you pause only briefly to determine which hallway is less likely to have people in it before deciding on the one to the right, towing him along behind you.
Once you’re far enough away from unwanted eyes and ears, you start wiggling every door knob you come across, growing visibly more frustrated until you finally find an unlocked one. Huffing, you push Jake into the spare storage closet first. Following him in, you close the door behind you.
The sudden change in space puts you in close proximity. Your nose is only a handful of inches away from his when you start laying out accusations.
“What the hell?” With the same hand than just dragged him on a half marathon, you shove at his chest. “Boyfriend?” You have half a mind to grab the broom standing next to you and start whacking him with it.
“I’m sorry!” Jake holds his hands up defensively. He doesn’t miss the way you’re eyeing every cleaning tool around you, no doubt deciding which would make the most effective weapon. “I panicked, okay? I just hate that smug little look he gets on his face–”
“Well you’re about to be seeing ‘that smug little look’ a lot more once he calls your bluff!” you half-shout, trying to convey your anger without alerting anyone to your presence.“The timeline barely lines up to begin with. It’s only been what, a few weeks since I was supposed to go on a date with him? And that’s not to mention the fact that there won’t be anyone to corroborate our story, because we don’t spend any time together, since, y’know, we’re not dating.”
Jake begs to differ. You’ve invaded more than one of his Wednesday night statistics study sessions.
But before he can point this out, you’re continuing. “Which means you’re gonna have to come up with some sort of believable explanation for why we break up after, like, three days.”
“Ugh.” Jake drags an open palm down his face. He hates to admit it, but you do have a point there.
Fingers running through his hair, his sudden stress is apparent. And you’re not trying to send him to an early grave, but would it have killed him to think before he spoke? Consider the consequences of starting the exact kind of rumor you’ve been hoping to dodge all evening? You get that his brother is not exactly an easy person to get along with, but was the short-lived victory really worth the potential fallout?
Across from you, Jake seems to be having the same realizations. A million thoughts whirring through his brain, he’s not sure where to place his focus.
After a moment, he settles on optimism. “Look, I think it will be fine.” The more he thinks about it, the more he convinces himself he believes it. “James has been up to his ass in company stuff since the second he graduated, so it’s not like he has extra time to check up on us or anything.” And even if he did, James would have no way of knowing who to ask. Jake has the sneaking suspicion his older brother couldn’t name a single one of his friends if his life depended on it. He would have no idea who to track down to corroborate your so-called romance.
“We won’t have to do anything,” Jake reasons. “I’ll just mention you in passing for the next few weeks if he happens to ask.” Even that should be simple enough. After all, Jake seriously doubts he will. “And by the time the holidays roll around, I can just say things fizzled naturally.” Easy. Simple. Uncomplicated. Mutual, and your pride and his both remain intact. “No big deal.”
Across from him, you weigh his words. It makes sense, yes, but there’s something starting to swirl in your gut that you don’t like. It feels a little too much like dread, like trepidation. Jake can read all of the uncertainty written across your face when you tell him, “I still don’t like it. My mother and your brother were both here tonight and already got different stories from us. This could get messy really quickly. I mean, what if our families start talking–”
“They won’t.” Jake shakes his head. “Your mom thinks I’m just a plus-one, and when my name comes up in James and my father’s conversations, it isn’t to discuss the ins and outs of my dating life.” Of this, at least, Jake is sure. His father couldn’t care less who he dates, as long as it’s not a liability to him, to the company. “Besides, we're university students.” Jake tries to lighten the mood, clear some of the tension. “Twenty-one and immature and all that.” For a moment, Jake imagines what life would feel like if that’s truly all he was, if that’s the only thing he got to be. No added pressure of a notorious last name and a reputation to maintain. Tucking that thought to the back of his mind, he decides he’ll mourn it later. “A short-lived relationship with a story that doesn’t quite add up is practically a right of passage. Not something to be suspicious of.”
You remain silent for a moment, but your hand doesn’t get any closer to the broom.
“Okay.” Some of the tension seeps out of your shoulders as you turn his reasoning over in your brain, nodding as his logic starts to piece together. “Okay,” you reiterate. You still don’t like it, but he’s right about one thing: it is the best option you have.
After all, there’s no way in hell you’re about to go tell your mother that your plus-one is actually your secret boyfriend, and you hate to admit it, but James’ little smirk is incredibly agitating. And it will all blow over, you’re sure. Like Jake said, James and your mother have no real reason to talk, and if Jake is convinced that his brother won’t be spreading this particular rumor, you’ll just have to believe him for the time being.
Letting him out of the closet first, you only imitate hitting him upside the back of the head once before you catch up to him, linking arms again before reentering the ballroom.
As the evening goes on, your worry starts to subside. Thankfully, every other part of the night goes perfectly to plan, even if you do have to force yourself to laugh a little too hard at one of Jake’s awful jokes when you catch James watching the two of you. The second glass of champagne you down helps, if nothing else.
Exactly as you predicted, after two and a half hours have passed, you and Jake are sneaking out the back exit, tiptoeing to his car as the fourth speaker of the evening continues their droning speech inside the event. Your mother is none the wiser to your early departure, and you hope it’s the first in a series of victories for the evening.
When Jake drops you off just outside the front doors of your apartment building, his smile is almost reassuring enough to put that lingering sense of unease to rest where it still sits in your gut.
Makeup removed, hair washed, and evening gown traded for pajamas, sleep is slow to find you a handful of hours later. Eventually, though, it does, and your rest is undisturbed, dreamless.
…
The next morning, with nothing but the pastel tones of sunrise and the sound of his brewing coffee maker to keep him company, Jake Sim stares at the message on his phone in abject horror.
Mom [7:32 am]: I can’t believe I had to find out from your brother! Family dinner next weekend at our place. Bring your girlfriend. :)
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
PART TWO IS UP AND LINKED ON MY MASTERLIST!
note: thank you for reading!! this is the version I had saved in my docs and it should be identical to what was posted before but in case there are any slight differences, that's why. I also sometimes make the fatal mistake of doing small grammatical edits in tumblr itself, so please excuse any minor errors as I didn't do a read through this time around. as always, I love to hear any thoughts you may have!
#enhypen fanfiction#jake fanfiction#enhypen jake#enhypen x reader#jake x reader#jake sim#jake fanfic#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#jake imagines#jake scenarios#jake x you#enhypen x you#enhypen angst#enhypen fluff
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the traitor | yoon jeonghan
› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: demon hunter jeonghan, supernatural au, demon reader › genres: angst, smut (18+) › word count: 8.4k
› 🎧: mood – dpr ian | shameless – yuni | symphony – highvyn ft. jey | read your mind – meloh | dive – jooyoung | dead man running – seulgi | for us – v | moonstruck – enhypen | war-r-r – colde
› this is part 2 of the curse - hannieween fest
› warnings after the cut! READ THEM CAREFULLY 🗣️
› warnings: smut with plot, unprotected p in v sex, oral sex (both receivers), pussy drunk jeonghan, cockdrunk reader, cum swallowing, creampies, cowgirl, mating press. pet names: baby, baby demon (hers)
› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.
› author's note: this is part two of my demon hunter hannie! hehe i loved writing it sm and thought to give you a follow-up part!
› additional note: this isn't proofread
the traitor
JEONGHAN WAS WOKEN UP BY A TINGLING FEELING. As a hunter, he needed to pay attention to a few things, like sudden surges of emotions. Hunches. Tingling sensations were not particularly something he would consider in the bunch. But alas.
He pushed himself up, swinging his legs at the rim of the bed and stared at his knees for a long second. He took a deep breath, rubbing his leg. It was pointless, he thought when he could not find a reason to leave his bed in the middle of the night.
But being a hunter also meant he needed to be on high alert nearly all the time. In his experience, sometimes it was a good idea to pay attention to those moments when nothing made sense at all, such as this.
Sucking in a breath, he got up, stretching his arms over his head as he went over to the small bathroom, avoiding his reflection in the mirror as usual.
Upon the first splash of water hitting his face, he thought of you. It was inevitable. The image of you sitting on the ground, surrounded by trees. That night, he left you for good. That night nothing made sense.
Needless to say, he was exercising all of his will not to go back to you.
Stop trying to make sense of everything.
After that, he debated whether to go back to bed or not. He could take a bottle, try to numb his senses and finally get a good night of sleep. But he needed to stay sharp.
It was a lost game. He got dressed, throwing his pair of black pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Finally strapping his chest harness on with his knife. Going out in the middle of the night meant to him that he was out for blood.
That was his way to distract himself.
“Jeonghan, don’t go.”
He recoiled, shaking his head and mentally reprimanding himself for thinking of you. But your last words to him were a curse, echoing inside him every night, refusing to leave.
Jeonghan let out a long exhale as he wandered through the night. The streets of the town were completely deserted, he knew he would have to stay out for some hours before he found a target.
These nights, he had been hunting until he travelled three towns over. All because he cannot find it in himself to sleep, he has to fight the urge to seek you out somehow.
Maybe this will be the night he breaks.
There was nothing in this town. It was too safe, too clean. He knew it would not be long until he had to move to a different town and start over. He had been commissioned to travel to different parts of the globe to find something to hunt down, so maybe he was doing his job right.
So why did he come back to this shitty town?
Something spiked in his nightly walk. There was something unusual in the air and it was not good. Jeonghan had really good senses, but his intuition was something that discerned him from the rest. Sometimes, people would tell him that his intuition was something out of the ordinary for hunters. So he paid more attention to that rather than his other senses.
He subconsciously rubbed his leg and caught his hand just as it dawned on him.
“Jeonghan, don’t go.”
Fear set in, and adrenaline kicked in as he started for a run. He had been stupid. So fucking stupid. How come he did not think that by killing every single demon within the town’s radar he was putting a target on you for other hunters?
Jeonghan knew the town by heart, but he could travel to your apartment with his eyes closed. Countless were the nights he stumbled upon your front door, burdened with misery all over. This cannot be the way he finds you dead.
“No, no, no, no…” he had been repeating the word like a prayer as he climbed through a labyrinth of stairs, panting, sweating until he burst the door open, already knowing you would not be there.
He called your name, either way, his voice bouncing back the walls. There was something off. A glass was shattered, pushed against the corner of the room. One of the chairs was drawn back, in the middle of the way. Jeonghan painted a scene of what could have gone down.
You were probably having the bowl of cereal that was abandoned on the table when the other hunter burst in. Jeonghan could not catch the scent of the other hunter, so that meant whoever that was, they masked themselves well.
No, you would have felt his presence before he could even breathe in your direction. Even if you were young, you were not completely inexperienced in the world of hunters. He made sure of that.
Another possibility was that you were asleep when the other hunter came. The sheets of your bed were tossed to one side. Jeonghan crouched next to the mattress, a terrible feeling sinking inside him upon getting your scent lingering on the pillowcases.
Jeonghan missed you.
“Where are you?” he whispered, closing his eyes to focus on your scent.
You smelled like freshly picked flowers. The smell he would get in the early morning after a night of rain. The fact that you did not smell like death, or blood made it hard for him to focus sometimes.
He opened his eyes, his focus falling on the open window. Then, he knew why he could not make a story from his surroundings. He had been wrong to assume it was just one hunter.
Someone had also come through the window. You were trapped from the beginning. His chest contracted painfully. But somehow he knew you were not dead yet. Have you been taken? For what end?
The possibilities were endless. Even if hunters had a long history of hating demons, some of them were missing some screws in their heads too.
Jeonghan needed to find you, soon.
Making his way down the stairs, part of him wondered why try at all. He could be rid of you once and for all. He could probably turn a blind eye to this and wait for your name to appear on the ledges. He would be free from the fucking pull that lead him to you every time.
The pull.
The feeling he got every time he closed his eyes, the need and deep craving for you that made him go insane. He let himself feel it. It tugged inside him, like a thread that was tied to his very core.
Jeonghan had refused that feeling ever since he met you, thinking it was some kind of trick you played on him. Silly little hunter got all wrapped in a demon’s finger.
But if he dared to give in to the pull, everything smelled of you. Every gulp of air he took as he walked in the direction his senses told him, he saw your face, your teary eyes as he walked away. Fool, he was a fool.
He was led to the forest, the same path he had gone through when he saw you last. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he should go back and hunt you down.
But then he heard noises, leaves rustling, and a small intake of breath. The sweet way you drew air into your lungs.
He thought of risking calling your name, but he did not know if the hunters were around. So he just followed the sound of your movements until he could get his sight on you.
You could barely walk right. Something had brought you to your knees, your arms were shaking as you forced yourself to stand up, with a low grunt.
Jeonghan called your name this time, making you lift your head.
He stopped abruptly at the sight of something shiny in your fist.
“Don’t move,” you said, punctuating each word painfully.
“What happened?” he asked, his tone declining in sickening worry, his gaze coasted at each of your limbs, zeroing in on your thigh. The same thigh he had been rubbing since he woke up. It made no sense.
“Step back, Jeonghan,” you panted in pain, raising the knife at him when he made a motion toward you.
“You didn’t notice me coming,” he muttered, analyzing the situation quickly. He sent his gaze around, seeing if there were signs that there was someone lurking by. “Let me take a look at that.”
“How did you find me?” you asked, letting yourself plop back to the ground, letting go of the knife.
Jeonghan got to your side, dropping to his knees to look at your thigh. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, eyeing you. “I’m going to touch you now.”
You nodded and braced yourself for the searing pain in your leg. “Two hunters came for me,” you said, clenching your jaw tightly to resist the pain throbbing in your skin, around the gaping hole that was turning black.
“I know,” he said, examining the open wound. “Did they stab you?”
You shook your head twice. “They were using a crossbow. Silver arrows,” you explained despite the need to rest your head on the ground and sleep through it. “I feel dizzy.”
Jeonghan shot you a look. He was worried. “It’s the poison, they must’ve poisoned the arrows to neutralize you,” he said at once. “What did you do to the arrow?”
“I used it on one of them,” you replied with half a smirk that slowly vanished as Jeonghan started to press on the wound, seeing any signs of anything odd or unfamiliar.
“Sorry,” he breathed as you tensed in pain. “I need to see if there’s anything in there,” he explained, but what did not satiate the doubts running in his mind.
“I can’t heal it,” you repeated and now he could see that beneath the pain and the need to deflect it with humour, you were scared.
“I know, I know,” he told you, giving you a stern look. “I can help you but you’ll have to be quiet.”
“Are you missing this opportunity to gag me?” you quipped but your tone was made weak by the fear of feeling pain.
Demons were used to pain, yes. But you were a fairly young demon and lived for most of your life in the human world. Such pain was not welcome for you.
“Breathe,” he instructed and used his hands on your thigh to squeeze the blood that had gone black and tacky around the wound.
You gritted your teeth, writhing in pain on the cold ground. “Stop, stop, stop,” you cried out, trying to get his hands off you.
But Jeonghan was quicker, and stronger than you at that moment. He did not deter from his task to squeeze the poisoned blood out of you despite your desperate cries for him to stop.
You lied, nearly limp from the exhaustion the pain had put you through. A sheen layer of cold sweat covered your face and neck, breathing hard. “Fuck you,” you sighed when he stopped squeezing your flesh.
“I’m not done yet, I need pressure on the wound,” he said, moving back to unfasten his belt with his bloodied hands. He strapped the belt around your upper thigh, forming a tight tourniquet.
“Hurry,” you said through heavy breaths. As you eased your back on the ground, Jeonghan caught sight of the dark wings splayed beneath your body, a clear sign that you could not conceal yourself any further.
Jeonghan made no comment about the weakened state you were in. A knot was set in his stomach upon realizing that you were dying. He grabbed one of the vials he kept in his hunter’s belt, it contained a white liquid. “This is going to sting a little,” he murmured, unstoppering the vial with his mouth and not pausing before pouring the antidote on your open wound.
Your hand flew to clench at his wrist, letting out a scream that was quickly muffled by his hand clasped in your mouth.
“I’m nearly done,” he said with a composure that you could see through. Beneath that, Jeonghan was worried you would not make it.
“Am I going to be all right?” you asked in a daze, slurring out your words.
“Drink this,” he pressed the vial to your lips, pouring the rest down your tongue, which you gulped willfully, it tasted like white vinegar.
You rested your head on the ground, taking slow and deep breaths as though you had just finished running a marathon.
“You’re going to be all right,” he said after a quick examination of the wound. “But you’ll need to feed soon.”
“Right,” you mumbled in understanding. By feeding, Jeonghan did not mean human food. Although you could eat human food just all right, it did not sustain what your soul craved.
He meant sins. You needed to feed off human sin. They made you stronger, and faster. They gave you the fuel needed to fight hunters. Going off sins for a while made you just as strong as an average human.
“Why haven’t you fed?” he asked, and it took you a while to understand that he was reprimanding you.
“Been busy,” you sighed, closing your eyes for a moment.
The last thing you heard was Jeonghan mumbling, “We’ll need to move soon,” before you fell into a deep sleep on a floor covered by dead leaves.
Upon regaining consciousness, you noticed with some slowness that you were not surrounded by trees, and you were moving. Your wings were cradling you, so that meant your horns were on sight too.
You tensed up, drawing in a shaky breath, palming your body in search of the knife that you stole from your attackers.
“Easy,” Jeonghan murmured next to you, a hand on the wheel, the other on the shift stick.
“Where are we?” you said, looking around.
“Radewood town,” he replied nonchalantly, eyes set forward on the road.
“Why?” you asked slowly, hiding your wings, from his view, then your horns.
“How’s your leg?” he asked instead, glancing at your thigh.
The wound had stopped bleeding, it was no longer oozing that black substance that had Jeonghan looking worried. You hissed painfully upon searching it with your fingers. The blood had dried, but it was not healing at the speed you would normally have.
“It hurts,” you mumbled, biting your bottom lip. “It’s not healing.”
Jeonghan nodded. “You need to feed,” he reminded you with the same tone of reprimand of earlier.
“Well, I fled without stopping to grab my purse so,” you sighed. “I don’t have money.”
“I’m not talking about human food,” he said with annoyance, shooting you a look that made you shrink in your seat. “Why haven’t you been feeding?”
You blinked slowly at him and shook your head after deciding that there was no answer that would please him. “I have–,”
“Don’t say you have been busy,” he cut in.
“Well, it’s the truth,” you said with a clear tone that gave away your lie.
But Jeonghan could feel it. Whenever you told a lie, there was a change in the air that only he could notice as a hunter. No human could ever detect your lies, only people like him.
“You know I know when you’re lying,” he said flatly, throwing you a dark look.
“Be content with that,” you bit back. “I’m not telling you anything else.”
Jeonghan shook his head, deciding not to press any further on the matter. He licked his lips, filling his lungs with the fresh midnight air that swept in through his rolled window.
“Jeonghan,” you called softly and did not proceed with your question until he glanced your way. “Why are you helping me?”
Jeonghan turned on a different street again, checking his rearview mirror, pretending to ready his answer. “I don’t know,” he replied.
There it was the empty void extending between you and him. If he lied, you would have sensed it too.
“How did you find me?” you pressed, trying to the best of your ability to analyze him. You were still weak, but you could still observe him despite your foggy brain.
“I don’t know,” he repeated with a low tone that barely cut through the noise of the engine of the car.
It made no sense. The way he found you in the woods was not done with any of his training. He simply closed his eyes and let him be taken to you. He did not even think twice as he carried your body to his car and started it, taking you far away from the town where you would be at risk of being hunted down.
“We have to lay low for now,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes as he cut the engine on an empty parking lot.
You raised your gaze to the motel sign, flaring in red neon light. “Is this your version of laying low?” you said with a sarcastic huff. “We could’ve done that back in the forest.”
Jeonghan opened the door, not bothering to look at you or give you a reply. “Stay here.”
You saw him walking away from the car, putting his hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket, his long hair tied in a messy ponytail.
You could run away. You did not know if Jeonghan was even aware of this. Maybe he was, you had a bad leg, and you were growing weaker.
Plus, there was the fact that he was now aware that he could trace you with his eyes closed.
You swallowed hard, waiting for him in the passenger seat of his old Mustang. You were going nowhere.
Some minutes later, you saw Jeonghan exiting the building and walking towards your door, which he opened to retrieve his belongings, which were his belt and his knife.
“This way,” he mumbled, motioning to one of the doors with a jerk of his head.
Reluctantly, you exited the car, closing the door behind you. Jeonghan turned and walked over to the door, introducing the key, and opening it for you.
You knew better than to fight it. There was a quiet storm brewing in the man’s head, and you were in its eye. You knew him well enough to tell when something was bothering him. And you knew what it was.
With a sigh, you walked inside the room. “One bed?” you turned to him with an exasperated look.
“I didn’t think you would mind,” he froze by the doorframe.
“Whatever,” you waved a hand dismissively before he could offer to change it.
As soon as Jeonghan closed the doors and the blinds, you started to the bathroom, taking all of your clothes off in front of him. You made no invitation, no offer but you still left the door open, the sound of the shower filling the tiny room.
Jeonghan made another small inspection, looking out of the window through the blinds before deciding to relax. He took his jacket off, leaving it neatly by the chair that was pushed to one corner of the room. He took his boots off, sitting down on the chair with a low grunt of exhaustion.
As he sat up straight, he caught sight of his hand, only noticing because he had started moving it, rubbing his palm on the exact spot where you had been injured.
“What the fuck?” he whispered to himself, raising his gaze as you returned to the bathroom, wholly naked, pressing a towel to your hair.
“You okay, hunter?” you eyed him curiously, like a cat that just noticed a flashy light.
Jeonghan frowned, not at you but at the thing stirring inside his chest. That feeling he got only when he was with you. “When is the last time you fed?”
“Here we go again,” you rolled your eyes but continued towel-drying your hair without bothering to respond.
“Answer me,” he muttered when you turned your back on him. Your reluctance to answer his question might have given him the answer.
“The last time we saw each other,” you said, your words echoing his own thoughts.
“Why?” the word was sharp like it took everything in him to suppress the dark emotion pulling on his every nerve. “That happened months ago.”
“Why do you care so much?” you spat, turning around to face him.
The question seemed to make him return to his senses, his eyes flickered with an emotion that you were to weak to catch. “I don’t,” he replied, stepping back from his initial anger.
“I’ll feed whenever I want to,” you said and this time you did not lie.
Jeonghan stood up, commanding your gaze to lift up to find his. “So you’re not hungry?”
You bit your tongue. Your eyes were dead, and despite the hot shower you had just taken, you were cold to the touch as Jeonghan curiously raised a hand to your shoulder. It was pointless, your plan had crashed and burned miserably.
“I’ve heard stories…” you whispered, closing your eyes to repel the sensation firing inside you. “Stories of ways a demon can become human. You can’t become human if you’re feeding off them, right?”
When Jeonghan did not reply, nor move you opened your eyes again. He was still rigid in the same trance he had been upon finding you injured and bleeding in the forest.
“You’ll die,” he sentenced after some seconds. “Are you insane?”
You brushed his hand off. “I knew you’d say that,” you whispered with a pained look, turning around to sit down on the bed.
“Why do you want to become human?” the words sounded ridiculous as he uttered them.
“Not your business, Jeonghan,” you replied impishly, throwing the towel to him, which he saw coming, catching it with ease.
“It is if you’re running away with me,” he said. Your temptation to feed could become dangerous. And he was toeing that line too deliberately.
“I didn’t choose to run away with you,” you bit back with an indignant huff.
“That’s the thanks I get?” he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “What was I supposed to do, then? Leave you to die? To be found by them?”
He did not need to explain who he referred to. The two hunters must have noticed that Jeonghan ran away with his things, his car, leaving an empty place behind. And you are nowhere to be found. He was a traitor.
“Maybe,” you whispered, lowering your gaze to your lap. You skirted the pads of your fingers around the wound that still refused to heal completely.
Jeonghan stood before you, using a hand on your chin to force your teary eyes on him. A finger scooped your tear as it rolled down your cheek. The tear glistened on the pad of his thumb as he showed it to you, a shocked expression plastered on his face.
Demons felt emotions, yes. But nothing like sorrow. Jeonghan had never seen a demon cry, let alone one that wanted to become human. It made no sense.
“It’s possible, Jeonghan,” you whispered shakily, letting your tears flow freely.
“Humans are weak. They get sick, they die. Besides, the guilt of everything you’ve done as a demon will crush you,” he said, dropping his hand from your chin. “Why would you want something like that?”
“I’m done talking,” you said childishly, turning over to draw the covers of the bed and tucked yourself in. “Goodnight.”
He blinked perplexedly at you. The best option was to wait for another opportunity to bring up the matter, but for now, he needed to rest. He disposed of his chest harness, and his knives, leaving them on the old and battered bedside table, where he could reach out if needed.
A smile threatened to break on his face when you turned slightly at the sound of him taking his pants off, then his long-sleeved t-shirt, discarding his clothes at the foot of the bed.
He paused, tugging the band of his black boxers with his fingers. He took them off, making things fair.
“Is that necessary?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him as he sank under the covers with you.
“Just playing your game,” he said, tugging the hair tie loose before lying his head on the pillow next to yours.
“I’m not playing any games,” you huffed with annoyance, turning over so your back was to him once again.
There it was the ripple in the air between you and him. Jeonghan did not need to comment on it, but you hated it.
Hunter abilities or not, Jeonghan would be able to read through your lies blindfolded. He was just that good at reading people, reading you.
Jeonghan stared at the ceiling, his heartbeat going a mile per hour, like a bird’s wings batting frantically inside his chest. He swallowed hard, resisting the urge pushing him to raise his hand at you, to reach out and touch your skin.
You closed your eyes, commanding yourself to sleep. But it was nearly impossible. Jeonghan’s scent was too distracting. The hunger caved a hole deep inside you. It was no ordinary hunger, it was one that had your soul twisting.
You balled your hands into fists, sinking your face into the pillow. His lust was nearly palpable, looming over you like a monster preying on you.
However, you were too weak to actually act upon it. Soon, you fell asleep, not noticing when or how.
Jeonghan however, was too riddled with questions to do the same. He turned his head on the pillow, seeing your wet hair, your naked shoulder. His thigh throbbed in something that reminded him of pain, though his flesh was fine and did not hurt.
Why would you want to become human? What could be a good enough reason to want to abandon your life full of pleasures? It made no sense. Jeonghan had never heard of a demon becoming human, but he saw you crying, so that must mean that it could be done.
Still, it meant that there was a price to be paid. There always was.
Wandering through endless questions, Jeonghan fell asleep. Now and then he was reminded of your presence in the bed, feeling your warmth or hearing you move beneath the sheets.
Even if he were not a light sleeper, the distraction of your warmth was enough to stir him awake. He found himself entirely pressed to your body, his front to the back of yours. His nose buried in your mane of hair, an arm draped over your waist.
And he was hard. Fuck, he was so hard it was starting to become annoying. It would be so easy to slip himself inside your pussy, waking you up in the process. He had done it countless times before.
He let out a silent sigh through his nose, only getting the scent of your hair when he breathed in. Your hand found his arm parked on the curve of your waist, you were awake. Jeonghan pressed himself another inexistent inch further, his hard cock wedged on your ass.
“Jeonghan,” you mumbled sleepily, turning over to see him. You threw him an innocent look, big eyes, pouting lips. “What are you doing?”
He responded by giving you a confused look. In other times, you would not even ask questions, you would just let him take you, take whatever he wanted, for however long.
Jeonghan brought a hand to your chin, his touch igniting your skin, making you blink dumbly. “How long are you going to keep resisting it?” the words flew out of his mouth before he could even comprehend his own question.
But he knew what you were doing. He was an expert in pushing his feelings down, particularly, he knew what it felt like to resist this pull.
“However long is necessary, Jeonghan,” you replied, but your tone wavered in the urge to press yourself against his hand, to feel him.
“Why?” he asked, his eyes skirting through your reaction. He knew you wanted this, why were you refusing him?
“If I keep this for long I might get what I want,” you whispered, avoiding his eyes in utter shame.
“Why do you want to become human so desperately?” he asked again, looking at you with an obfuscation that was hard to mask.
You shrugged, keeping your sunken gaze on his chiselled chest. “That doesn’t concern you.”
Jeonghan pressed his fingers on your chin gently, tugging you so you locked your pretty eyes with his. “Does it not, really?”
Your brow furrowed, your gaze darkening. Feeling like you were being mocked, your eyes watered again. “Fuck off, Jeonghan,” you scoffed weakly, trying to free yourself from his grip.
He did not want to see it, but your reaction told him everything he needed to know. It took him some seconds to shake the perplexion off. It made no sense. “Did you think that being human would change things?”
You made no verbal reply, scoffing as you brushed his hand off you one more time.
But you knew him well enough to expect that would not work on him. He needed an answer now, and he would stop at nothing to get it now that he knew it fully concerned him.
“Did you think I would want you more if you were human?” he asked without heat in his words, his gaze reading your features over and over. “Did you think that would give you a shot at a normal thing happening between us?”
“No, Jeonghan,” you rolled your eyes, but he could see how much his questions had pierced through you. “Quite the opposite.”
He made a motion to pull his head back on the pillow as if that gave him a better frame of your face. “What?”
“I want this to stop,” you whispered, rolling over the bed to sit up with a sigh.
Jeonghan looked at your back, you let your head drop forward, sniffling softly but you were fully crying now.
“Maybe being human will make this stop,” you whispered, motioning a hand between his body and yours. By this, you meant, the out-of-the-ordinary need for him, the desperate craving that refused to let you live. Maybe then, the bond between you would not be so unbearable.
Jeonghan sat up too, trying to read any signs of your words being insincere. But he found nothing, the quiet tension falling in the room startled him, and it made him uncomfortable. Even more, the battering inside his chest was making it difficult to even breathe.
“That makes no sense,” he mumbled with a hollow tone.
“It makes perfect sense,” you bit back, throwing him a sad look.
You were weak, nearing a state that you did not comprehend. Becoming human meant that you also had to deal with human emotions, and they were flowing freely through you, giving you a taste of what you were about to face as a human.
However, making yourself human condemned you to a myriad of threats. Not just mortality. You would become a demon that betrayed its own kind. A traitor, too.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked, trying to hold your gaze to read you better.
“I want to be rid of you by whatever means necessary,” you hissed, coating your words with venom.
“Liar.”
There was a shadow of a smile on his face, and before you resorted to a crazed fit of violence, you decided to crush your mouth with his, kissing him with enough vehemence it would hurt him if he were human.
But he was tough enough to take you. He released a grunt in your mouth that was from half arousal, half annoyance at you.
“You’re a baby,” he grunted between hard kisses. “A bratty, fussy, melodramatic demon.”
“Shut up, Jeonghan,” you hissed. “Shut up or I swear–,”
“What?” he bit back, holding your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks. “What will you do, eh?”
“Don’t try me right now,” you said, kissing him repeatedly you were running out of breath.
“That’s exactly what I want to do,” he chuckled. “Did you think that making yourself human would make me stop wanting you?”
“Yes,” you hissed, pushing him back onto the bed with all the strength you had.
Jeonghan was stronger than you at that moment, but he allowed you to handle him with a triumphant smirk on his face. Nothing in existence would make him stop wanting you, damned to hell or not.
Though it made him curious to know. “Do you want to stop wanting me, then?” he leaned his head to his shoulder.
“It would be nice to stop craving you all the time,” you said, sinking your face in the crook of his neck to kiss him.
“Liar,” he grunted, holding your hips as you made a trail of kisses down his beautifully scarred chest. “Even worse, you’re a masochistic one at that.”
The guilty giggle escaping through your lips gave him all the reassurance he needed. You were now soaking up his need for you.
“Gods,” he breathed when your lips reached his hipbone. Your touch would never satiate the craving need inside him, but this night he would at least attempt to.
His fingers tangled in your hair, keeping his grip light but it would become difficult as you gave him a long lick from his ball sack to the tip of his cock. “Fuck,” he gritted, tensing as you wrapped your mouth around the bulbous head of his cock. “Yes, baby, just like that.”
The room fell silent again, but now all that surrounded you and him was lust and bliss. It had your blood revelling, sizzling beneath your skin to take him into your mouth. His fingers thread in your hair, caressing you as you bobbed your head up and down on him, sucking him off eagerly. You were tasting him, not only his skin, his arousal, but his lust. It drove you crazy.
“Gods, I fucking missed you,” he drawled, closing his eyes briefly before he lost all control. He wanted to push his hips, to drive his cock into your throat. But he also wanted to take this patiently.
You explored him with your mouth, just like your hands were exploring his body. Not that his nakedness was new to you, but you had just gone months without touching him. And not for a single second did you forget the taste of him, you also missed him.
But did he miss you the same way you did? Did he crave to hear your voice like you did his?
Your transition from demon to human was painful, and you were throwing it all away in one night. And Jeonghan was willingly letting you feed off his lust, you were relishing the taste of his greed, sucking off the last bit of the self-restraint he had in him.
His fingers curled around your hair, clenching his jaw as he moaned in pure pleasure. He let out a gasp when your tongue swirled around his cockhead. “Keep doing that, baby,” he said languidly, following the movements of your head on him.
A strangled moan bubbled in your mouth, and you followed his command, rolling your tongue around his blunt head.
Jeonghan smirked knowingly. You weakened whenever he treated you with softness, so words like baby drove you crazy. He threw a look down at his body, capturing your eyes, darkened with a lascivious greed that only fueled his. “Touch yourself,” he said with a gruff tone. “I want you to come with me.”
You sneaked a hand between your thighs, moaning salaciously when your fingers stroked your clit.
Jeonghan sighed, blinking slowly at the sight of you, thinking of your drenched pussy, your fingers coated in your arousal as you rubbed fast swirls around your clit. “That’s it, baby, just like that,” he praised, brushing your hair back with his long fingers. “You’re such a good girl for me, you don’t even know it.”
You moaned around his cock again, succumbing to a fast orgasm, your body trembled slightly.
“Coming,” he whispered, his mouth falling open as ropes of cum spurted down your throat, moaning at the sight of you drinking him off completely, licking to the last bead of his cum. You littered the reddened cockhead with sweet pecks trailing down to his shaft, eliciting a raw chuckle from him.
“That was amazing,” he whispered, enjoying the twinkle in your dark eyes upon being praised by him.
Jeonghan sat up, hooking one arm around your waist to throw you back onto the mattress. “Your turn,” he said with a wolfish grin.
You had recuperated the color in your cheeks, but you were still weak enough to fight his strength. You grunted as your head hit the pillows, but returned the smile at him. “You’ll see when I get my strength back.”
“Ooh, scary,” he said, grazing his lips on yours.
“You’ll see,” you remarked.
“Scary baby demon, what are you going to do?” he teased again, kissing the apple of your cheek, his breath caressing your ear.
“I’ll make you suffer,” you mumbled faintly, closing your eyes as his lips reached the underside of your jaw, making you tilt your head back for him.
“I want to see that,” he said mockingly. “Make me suffer.”
You sighed a moan when he kissed your throat, giving you a broad stroke with his tongue, tracing your collarbones. “Jeonghan…”
“Don’t throw another tantrum like that again,” he murmured against your skin, leaving another kiss on the plain of your breasts, before adding, “I’ll be mad at you.”
A spark of wrath got mixed along with greed and lust, it was not new to you, but it was rare.
“It wasn’t a tantrum,” you argued, though your tone was made weak by his lips, his tongue licking one of your nipples, making you arch your back.
He paused, “I don’t care,” he decided at once. “You’re not doing it again.”
“You don’t get to decide what I do, Jeonghan,” you mumbled breathily, moaning as his mouth wrapped around your nipple, suckling at it softly once, then swirling the tip of his tongue around it.
Jeonghan did not respond verbally to your obvious lie. He did not have a say in your choices, but there was a force greater than him or you that tied you to him. So every choice you made, every choice he made, was bound to affect you both.
“How’s your leg?” he asked, moving your thighs gently to slot his waist between them. His fingers traced a circle around the scar that was beginning to form.
“Better,” you sighed.
“Mmn,” he smirked at you, leaning over to kiss your lips. “Will it heal completely by the time I’m done eating you out?”
“Why, are you in a rush?” you quipped, arching an eyebrow at him.
There you were, he smirked. “I ache for you,” he whispered, letting his forehead fall upon yours. The shame coursing through him made you recoil but sensing it, he added quickly: “You have not only starved yourself but starved me with your stupid little plan.”
“You avoided me too,” you accused.
“I know, I was a fool,” he confessed, running his palms all over your body as if he could not do anything else. He sank down, leaving wet kisses down your tummy, his hands palming your breasts, his fingers lingering on your sensitive nipples.
You bit your lip, only in your most crazed fantasies did you dare to imagine him saying this. “You were,” you whispered. “The biggest fool.”
“Uh-huh,” he hummed, kissing your mound generously, his hands grabbing your thighs with the lightest of touches before licking your pussy with a broad stroke.
“Jeonghan!” you cried out, brushing his dark hair gently as he ate you out like a starved man, licking your folds thoroughly, his tongue sliding up to your clit to then suckle at it.
You arched your back, not caring about the light pain throbbing on your thigh. Jeonghan was giving you everything you needed, giving your pussy open-mouthed kisses, drinking your arousal in with pleased moans.
“Fuck-k,” you gritted weakly, letting yourself be swept away by the gentle waves of your orgasm building inside you. “I m-missed you too, Jeonghan,” you mumbled.
He raised his gaze to yours, blinking slowly at you, pressing his tongue on your swollen clit, moving it swiftly in figure-eight motions, driving you to the edge. You gripped the bedsheets with one hand, the other flying to grab at the railings of the headboard.
“I’m close,” you gasped, breathing rapidly, welcoming the pleasure barreling through your body. “I’m close, I’m–, Jeonghan…” you closed your eyes, repeating his name over and over as you climaxed in his mouth.
But Jeonghan was not stopping. He continued making out with your pussy, enjoying the taste of your arousal pooling in your entrance, licking your folds with raunchy moans. His hands held you down as you shook with the aftershocks of your orgasm, caressing your tummy languidly.
“Jeonghan,” you called, shuddering when his hand caressed your thigh as he littered it with kisses.
“See? Healed,” he placed another kiss, right where your scar used to be.
You used your newly regained strength to push him, flipping the positions over so you were now straddling him. You let out a pleased sigh, effortlessly pinning his body down on the mattress.
“I take that you’re all set now,” he smirked, his hands roving all over your thighs.
Gods, you were a sight to behold. Your wings were at full display, resting freely at your sides. Your dark horns, curving back from the crown of your head, were on sight too. That meant you were comfortable around Jeonghan. You trusted him.
“Not yet,” you said, grabbing his hardened cock in one hand, planting the other on his abdomen for support as you eased your pussy down his length.
“Fuck,” Jeonghan gritted, his hands flying to grab your hips as you started rolling them on him.
“What’s wrong, hunter?” you teased, leaning down so your face was close enough to prop kisses on his lips. “Lost your footing?”
“You got me for a second there,” he admitted with a smirk. “Didn’t think you’d recuperate your strength that quickly.”
“Mm, keep that in mind next time you kiss it better,” you said, trapping his bottom lip with your teeth, nibbling it softly.
Jeonghan moaned, your hips picking up the pace mercilessly, knowing the exact pace and motion that drove him insane. He closed his eyes, sighing out the euphoric feeling of being with you, like this, consuming each other.
“It won’t happen again. You’re not doing this to yourself again,” he said with a faint tone.
“You don’t make choices for me,” you retaliated, sinking yourself down on him with pleased sighs, planting your hands on his chiselled chest.
In a blur, Jeonghan grabbed your wrists with one hand flipping your bodies over, pinning your body with his hips on yours, his hand holding your arms above your head. Jeonghan moved his hips slightly, finding your entrance with his hard cock quite effortlessly.
Jeonghan gave a few shallow thrusts, stretching your walls, making your mouth part, giving way to a long moan. “Fuck, Jeonghan,” you groaned lewdly.
“Say it,” he hissed, rolling his hips on yours slowly, but pushing his cock inside you deeper each time he thrusted in. “You won’t do it again.”
“Fuck you,” you gritted, falling deeper into the puddle of pleasure he was slowly submitting you into.
“Say. It,” he commanded, his thrusts gaining strength, becoming harder at each motion of his hips on yours.
You wrestled his grip on your wrists, without using your full strength. “No,” you said with a hollow tone, the pace of his thrusts knocking the wind out of you.
“You fucking brat,” he spat, pressing his face on yours, giving you a hard kiss in the process. “Delusional little demon. Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”
“Stop,” you gasped, shame heating your cheeks.
Jeonghan released his grip on your wrists, not letting you regain control by grabbing your thighs, throwing them on his shoulders before resuming with his near animalistic thrusts, groaning on your mouth as such, like an animal.
“Jeonghan!” you cried out, his cock reaching inside you deeper… and deeper.
“Did you really think… I’d stop wanting you?” he panted in between his hard thrusts, the strain in his voice telling you how close he was to his release. “I’ll never stop wanting you.”
“Jeonghan…” you moaned.
“Say it.”
“I won’t do it again,” you said, trembling on the bed, reaching out to hold him right before you came undone beneath him.
“That’s it… that’s my girl,” he gasped, his bottom lip parting, releasing a raw grunt. Jeonghan moaned your name as he came, fucking his cum inside you with sloppy thrusts until he stopped, breathing hard on top of you.
Jeonghan eased your legs from his shoulders, deciding to rest his head on your chest. The sound of your heartbeat resonated through his head as he took a long breath. Your fingers caressed his nape lazily, shuddering under him when Jeonghan ran a fingertip on one of your wings.
This made no sense. To Jeonghan, everything had been black and white. His world was rigid, surrounded by unbreakable rules that made him into the person he was until he met you. Now, he was but the shadow of the man he was. He used to hate himself for wanting you. You were the thing he was raised to hate, to kill.
He did everything to keep you away. He bedded other women, he drank himself to sleep to not dream of you, he flew himself to different parts of the world.
And there he was, blissfully nestled in your warmth, in your embrace.
“Would you hate it if I became human?”
“No,” he replied after some seconds. “But I don’t want you to do it because you think that’s going to change something between us. Some things aren’t meant to change.”
“How can you be so sure?” you asked with a tiny tone.
Jeonghan raised his head, curiously looking at you. Even back with full strength, you still clung to some human vulnerability. “I’m not sure,” he confessed. “I don’t understand many things. But I know that changing yourself won’t bring you happiness, only misery.”
“I’m just tired of this,” you said, and it did not matter that you could not cry anymore, he knew that the statement hurt to say.
Jeonghan got to his knees, pulling out of you gently to slump his body next to yours. He took one long look at you, reminiscing of what he felt when he knew you were slipping away. It was fear, that was undeniable, he was too familiar with that feeling. But never like this.
“I don’t know what to say,” he said with a light frown.
“How did you find me, Jeonghan? How did you know I was in trouble?” you dared to ask again, now your words taking another meaning.
Jeonghan paused. “I just did,” he said but rolled his eyes when you saw through his lie. “I felt something.”
“Jeonghan,” you started, your tone reducing itself to a whisper. “There is a reason why we can’t get rid of each other.”
He went rigid, his eyes coasting all over the features of your face.
“Have you ever tried to… kill me?” you asked, hating how your words came off while lying naked next to him.
“You’d know it if I had,” he said, taken aback by your questions. “Why are you asking me this?”
“There is a reason why you can’t kill me,” you said, despite how crazy you were sounding. “I know you’ve felt it…”
Jeonghan sat up on the bed, gripping the bedsheets to steady himself. He felt lightheaded. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar,” you whispered, sitting up next to him.
He ran his hands on his face harshly. “Stop that. This isn’t a game.”
“The last time we saw each other, you felt something,” you pressed, searching his eyes as he faced you.
“It makes no sense,” he whispered dejectedly.
It made perfect sense. The grip that you had on him was unlike anything else he had faced. Time after time he tried to run away, to put distance between you and him. He always found his way back to you somehow, either by greed, by lust or purely by fate. He never knew why, he was bound to you.
“Look at me,” you said, and his gaze found you. “There’s no point in fighting this. I know you’ve tried it before, I tried too.”
“It’s–,”
“Impossible?” you scoffed with a mocking smile.
It was a sick joke. A demon and her hunter. The lamb and the wolf, chasing each other endlessly.
“Is this why you thought becoming human was an option?”
You paused but nodded slowly after some seconds of pondering.
Jeonghan sighed, touching your forehead with his. “That’s a high price to pay,” he whispered.
He knew your next words before you uttered them, “I’m willing to pay it, Jeonghan.”
“I don’t want you to,” he gritted out his words, even if he did not understand, he could not stop fighting it any longer. “I like you the way you are.”
Demon or not, you felt something in your chest, tugging at you. “That’s not the problem,” you shifted back, looking at his confused face.
“I can’t have any ties to anyone,” he said. “Someday I’ll end up dead fighting something stronger and quicker than me.”
“After today’s events, I think it’s clear that I am chased by the same danger.”
“I’ll grow old, and slow,” he added.
“I would too, if I were human. No one would hunt me down,” you countered, not convinced by the obfuscated look on his face. “I wouldn’t have to feed from you.”
“You could die in the process,” he said, and that was the final reason he needed.
“Jeonghan–,”
“No,” he shook his head.
At that, you stopped fighting. You got out of bed, slowly picking up your torn clothes and putting them on without looking back at him.
His heart faltered, looking at you as you sat down on the edge of the bed, next to him. “Don’t go,” he mumbled.
“Give me a reason to stay.”
Jeonghan swallowed his words, taking a last look at your eyes. Something tugged at his heart, urging him to stop you. But you were slipping through the door before he could spring to action.
Fool. He was a fool.
› author's note: heyyyooooooo
once again i have nothing to say. i just need jeonghan on his knees, begging for forgiveness and mercy
anyway, stay tuned for my next hannieween fest piece!! next post will be loser hannie!! hehe
toodles!
read the next part!!
support me on ko-fi?
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#jeonghan smut#yoon jeonghan smut#yoon jeonghan x reader#jeonghan x reader#svthub#thediamondlifenetwork#svt smut#hannieween's kinktober#yoon jeonghan fanfic#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#svt imagines#yoon jeonghan x you#jeonghan fanfic#jeonghan fic#hannieween#hannieweenfest
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KINKTOBER 2024
» svt menu | skz menu | atz menu | txt menu | the rose menu | soloist menu «
➮ monster!idol (svt, atz, skz, txt, woosung, + dpr ian) × fem!Reader wc: — (TBD) summary: a collection of timestamps for the spookiest month of the year genres/themes/au: angst, fluff, smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, mentions of: food/alcohol consumption, supernatural & horror themes; sexual content (18+ mdni), see each part for further warnings. ⚠️ taglist will be in the reblogs join my taglists: main | special kinktober taglist closed! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.
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🅆🄴🄴🄺 1
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❑ 「10:01」 WORK OF ART ➮ half-dragon!Minghao × fem!Reader kinks: mirror sex + sex photos prompt: ❛❛ Don’t cover your mouth, I want everyone to know how good I make you feel. ❜❜ summary: After inheriting an estate deep in the Bavarian Alps from his maternal grandfather, Minghao arrives to find the estate has survived the war unscathed and that deep underground is a vault full of historic and old art dating back to the 8th century. He decides to hire an appraiser to inspect the collection but becomes enamored with her. wc: 7.3k READ NOW!
❑ 「10:02」 PRIMAL INSTINCT ➮ werehyena!Mingi × fem!Reader kinks: facesitting + mommy kink prompt: ❛❛ Sit on my face. ❜❜ summary: Y/N hasn’t been intimate with her boyfriend but not by choice. Every time she tries, he always ends up pushing her away and it's starting to affect her confidence. After an argument, Mingi finally blurts out just why he's been pushing her away this whole time. wc: 4k READ NOW!
❑ 「10:03」 WRONG TURN ➮ bunyip!Chris × fem!Reader × bunyip!Chris kinks: threesome + pool/water sex prompt: ❛❛ Make Me. ❜❜ + ❛❛ God, you’re so beautiful when you’re fucked out under me/us/him. ❜❜ summary: Y/N is convinced her map is wrong when she finds herself utterly lost on what was supposed to be a short hike from her camp. When she comes upon a small river and stops to fill her canteen, she finds more than water waiting for her. wc: 6.6k READ NOW!
❑ 「10:04」 SPEED DATING AN ONI FOR DUMMIES ➮ oni!Jeonghan × fem!Reader kinks: bulge kink + deepthroating prompt: ❛❛ I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already wet. ❜❜ summary: Speed dating never was Y/N’s thing but lucky for her, she just so happened to meet someone worthwhile. He asked her on a proper date & has been a perfect gentleman throughout the night. Even if he is an oni. wc: — READ NOW!
❑ 「10:05」 GUEST RELATIONS ➮ centaur!Mingyu × fem!Reader kinks: premature ejaculation + degradation prompt: ❛❛ Good boys get rewarded, so behave. ❜❜ summary: Y/N owns an inn in the countryside, left to her by her grandparents. She gets all sorts of visitors but her favorites are the unusual and monstrous ones. When a centaur named Mingyu arrives, she gives him the best horse-size room she has and goes above and beyond to make sure his stay is memorable and welcoming. wc: — READ NOW! — will be late
❑ 「10:06」 BAD DOG, GOOD BOY ➮ werewolf!Woosung × fem!Reader kinks: knotting + creampie prompt: ❛❛ Is that my shirt? ❜❜ summary: All you wanted was a quiet, relaxing night to yourself after a tough week at work. One night to relax and unwind. With your clothes in the wash, you decide to borrow one of your roommate’s shirts. Something he notices when you walk back into the living room while he’s taking a break from gaming. wc: — READ NOW! — will be late
❑ 「10:07」 ONLY MINE ➮ werefox!Hongjoong × fem!Reader kinks: possessive sex + marking prompt: ❛❛ I’m not jealous! It’s just… you’re mine. ❜❜ summary: Hongjoong is possessive by nature and when people get too close to his mate, he has to remind her who she actually belongs to. wc: — READ NOW! — will be late
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🅆🄴🄴🄺 2
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❑ 「10:08」 GAME OF RIDDLES ➮ kumiho!Beomgyu × fem!Reader (feat. Yeonjun & Soobin) kinks: dacryphilia + CNC prompt: ❛❛ I love it when you cry. ❜❜ + ❛❛ What do you mean you’ve never cum from sex? ❜❜ + ❛❛ Your panties are soaked already. ❜❜ summary: When Y/N’s best friends Yeonjun and Soobin dared her to explore an old mine shaft on the edge of town, she never expected to find anything but rock so when she stumbles across an extremely gorgeous man with bright orange glowing eyes, to say she was shocked was an understatement. wc: — READ NOW!
❑ 「10:09」 FALLEN ➮ fallen angel!Seungmin × fem!Reader kinks: impact play + begging prompt: ❛❛ Oh no. Not until you beg. ❜❜ summary: His fall from grace had been due to his hard headedness and Seungmin’s status as a fallen one never really crossed his mind. At least until he met Y/N. He’d been dejected and grown disillusioned with life but upon meeting her, he started to see some meaning to life again. To put it simply -- Y/N made him feel alive. wc: 4.5k READ NOW!
❑ 「10:10」 DON’T HOLD BACK ➮ wereleopard!Yunho × fem!Reader kinks: size kink + praise prompt: ❛❛ Try to stay quiet for me, kitten. Can you do that? ❜❜ summary: Yunho hadn’t been on a date in ages when he managed to land a date with his cute coworker, Y/N. Cue one awkward first date and a handful of other successful ones, Yunho feels like he’s starting to settle into his growing relationship. The only thing holding him back is that his girlfriend is so small and it drives him mad with the desire to pin her down and unleash his inner beast. He finally comes clean when Y/N asks him why they aren’t more intimate. wc: 3.3k READ NOW!
❑ 「10:11」 THE MONSTER UNDER YOUR BED ➮ bogeyman!Vernon × fem!Reader kinks: tentacles + virgin sex prompt: ❛❛ I’m waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you. ❜❜ summary: The monster under Y/N’s bed has been hearing her touch herself for the last few years & is starting to get jealous. Why does she touch herself when he’s right there? wc: 3.9k READ NOW!
❑ 「10:12」 BUMP IN THE NIGHT ➮ incubus!Jongho × fem!Reader kinks: somnophilia + mind break prompt: ❛❛ I’m going to have you screaming by the end of the night. ❜❜ summary: To pass his final incubus test, Jongho must visit the human world and seduce a sleeping person. wc: 2.5k READ NOW!
❑ 「10:13」 HEY, CHECK THIS OUT ➮ shapeshifter!Junhui × fem!Reader kinks: mutual masturbation + voyeurism prompt: ❛❛ Lay back and touch yourself, I’m going to watch. ❜❜ summary: Jun is a witch and has been practicing his shapeshifting. He’s excited to show Y/N his new trick which has an unintended reaction. wc: 3k READ NOW!
❑ 「10:14」 BLOODLUST ➮ vampire!Wonwoo × fem!Reader kinks: bloodplay + period sex prompt: ❛❛ Aw darling, I almost believe you. ❜❜ summary: Y/N has always avoided sex during her period in the past. Not because she found it gross but because her partners did. Wonwoo is different. Wonwoo loves it. Wonwoo also happens to be a vampire so he might be a bit biased. wc: 3.8k READ NOW!
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🅆🄴🄴🄺 3
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❑ 「10:15」 A QUIET MORNING ➮ kitsune!Jeongin × fem kumiho!Reader kinks: dry humping + morning sex prompt: ❛❛ Do you really think you’re in a position to give orders? ❜❜ summary: A year after setting off to find his mother, Jeongin returned to Y/N, finding she had given birth to his daughter. Time skip to another two years later and Jeongin often wakes up to his three year old daughter and one year old son jumping on the bed, shaking him and Y/N awake. It’s not often he gets to spend the morning with his wife so when Clover offers to watch the kits so Jeongin and Y/N can have a weekend away, he jumps at the chance. wc: 2.9k READ NOW!
❑ 「10:16」 BEWARE OF BEARS ➮ werebear!Changbin × fem!Reader kinks: outdoor sex + strength kink prompt: ❛❛ I cannot possibly focus with your damn hand in my- ❜❜ summary: Changbin just wanted to have a nice camping trip with his girlfriend but she has other ideas. wc: 4.1k READ NOW!
❑ 「10:17」 THE RITUAL ➮ demon!Chan × fem witch!Reader kinks: lingerie + facefucking prompt: ❛❛ You look so good on your knees. ❜❜ summary: Y/N has been practicing her summoning, hoping to finally summon a demon. Imagine her surprise when she not only succeeds in summoning a demon but he’s insanely gorgeous and wants to make a deal. wc: — READ NOW!
❑ 「10:18」 GOD OF DEATH ➮ shinigami!Hyunjin × fem!Reader kinks: rope play + dubcon prompt: ❛❛ I promise I’ll be gentle. ❜❜ summary: As a god of death, Hyunjin spent most of his days in the underworld but after deciding to visit the human world, he finds himself drawn to a particular human and even conspires to drop his very own death note, hoping for her to pick it up. wc: — READ NOW!
❑ 「10:19」 SEASIDE RETREAT ➮ merman!Seungcheol × fem!Reader kinks: daddy kink + choking prompt: ❛❛ Baby, I asked you a question, so if you know what’s good for you, you’d better answer me.❜❜ summary: It’s been a few weeks since Y/N last came to the small seaside town where her boyfriend resides and suffice it to say, he’s missed her greatly. wc: — READ NOW!
❑ 「10:20」 THE SIREN’S SONG ➮ siren!Wooyoung × fem!Reader kinks: thigh fucking + brat-taming prompt: ❛❛ Yell at me again and I’ll give you a reason to scream. ❜❜ summary: Y/N’s been having a rough season. The fish have almost all but disappeared and each catch is smaller and smaller. While doing some overnight fishing, she’s woken from her slumber by a beautiful singing and finds that the one doing the singing is even more beautiful. wc: — READ NOW!
❑ 「10:21」 MADE OF STONE ➮ gargoyle!Seokmin × fem!Reader kinks: thigh riding + orgasm control prompt: ❛❛ Come here. I’ll show you how to make yourself feel good. ❜❜ summary: Nights are the only time Seokmin can truly live as he spends his days frozen in the glow of the sun. Night was also the time when his human girlfriend would come to pay him a visit. wc: — READ NOW!
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🅆🄴🄴🄺 4
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❑ 「10:22」 BOREDOM ➮ naga!Seonghwa × fem!Reader kinks: table/counter sex + double penetration prompt: ❛❛ I’m bored. Let’s fuck. ❜❜ summary: Y/N’s naga roommate is still trying to get used to the hustle and bustle of life in the city. He finds it difficult to go out and socialize as monsters aren’t socially accepted yet. So he tends to go a little stir crazy and get bored often. Lunchtime is no different when he suggests they do something fun. wc: — READ NOW!
❑ 「10:23」 CHEATING DEATH ➮ reaper!Yeosang × fem!Reader kinks: corruption kink + cock worship prompt: ❛❛ Have you never been touched like this before? ❜❜ summary: When an aneurysm in her brain ruptures, killing Y/N, she is faced with a reaper who has come to collect her soul but she might have just discovered a way to cheat death. wc: — READ NOW!
❑ 「10:24」 CAN'T TAKE THE HEAT ➮ yuki-otoko!Jihoon × fem!Reader kinks: temperature play + spitting prompt: ❛❛ What? Does that feel good? ❜❜ summary: As a snow demon, Jihoon can’t stand the heat and takes to staying in his apartment he shares with his roommate, Y/N. When the AC breaks down, Jihoon asks Y/N for help in keeping him cool. wc: — READ NOW!
❑ 「10:25」 APHRODISIA ➮ alien!Minho × fem!Reader kinks: sex pollen + breeding prompt: ❛❛ Baby… you need me that badly? ❜❜ summary: After Minho’s return to Earth, Y/N has spent the last year traveling the galaxy with her alien boyfriend. While exploring a tropical moon orbiting a massive planet in a binary star system, Y/N accidentally disturbs a cluster of bulbous purple luminescent flowers that release a glowing purple dust that sticks to her clothes and skin. She returns to Minho’s ship hoping that the dust isn’t toxic and will wash off but as she soon finds out, the dust is a very sparkly and potent aphrodisiac and it has a profound effect on not only her, but on Minho as well. wc: — READ NOW!
❑ 「10:26」 ROCK THE BOAT ➮ samebito!Jisung × fem!Reader kinks: body worship + dirty talk prompt: ❛❛ Tell me you love me. ❜❜ summary: Y/N’s work has been taking her away from the ocean and keeping her in the office, making her samebito boyfriend, Jisung, very lonely and putting a wedge between them. One night after Y/N doesn’t show up to his underwater cave, Jisung makes a simple little wish that he could go on shore for once to go see her instead of waiting for her to come to him. wc: — READ NOW!
❑ 「10:27」 GO INSANE ➮ werepanther!Christian × fem!Reader kinks: public sex + cockwarming prompt: ❛❛ We can’t do this here! What if someone sees? ❜❜ summary: a nice visit to the Japanese countryside was in store for Y/N and her fiancé. What she hadn’t planned on was how insatiable the werepanther was and his animalistic urge to be inside her while she sits on his lap on a crowded bus. wc: — READ NOW!
❑ 「10:28」 HEAT CYCLES ➮ weretiger!Soonyoung × fem!Reader kinks: heat cycles + rough sex prompt: ❛❛ You heard me. Take. It. Off. Now. ❜❜ summary: Normally during his heat, Soonyoung stays as far away from his girlfriend as he can for fear of scaring her away but he can’t help himself when she comes by to drop some soup off seeing as he told her he’s sick. wc: — READ NOW!
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🅆🄴🄴🄺 5
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❑ 「10:29」 THRILL OF THE CHASE ➮ werecoyote!San × fem chipmunk hybrid!Reader kinks: predator/prey + hybrids prompt: ❛❛ Why are you shaking? You’re not scared of me are you? ❜❜ summary: San’s favorite thing about his roommate is that as a hybrid, she triggers his prey drive which makes him want to chase her around their apartment, and even if it’s not her favorite thing ever, she doesn’t mind indulging him. It usually ends with her pinned on the couch or wall before San will playfully nip at her and let her go but this time, it ends with her pinned against his bed, triggering more than just his predator drive. wc: — READ NOW!
❑ 「10:30」 ALMOST HUMAN ➮ gorgon!Seungkwan × fem!Reader kinks: shower sex + drunk sex prompt: ❛❛ We’re not just friends and you fucking know it. ❜❜ summary: Seungkwan is the youngest of three siblings and the only male gorgon in his family. Probably due to his half-human heritage on his father’s side. He’s lucky that his appearance is much more human than his sisters’. Although he looks mostly normal there are still some things that aren’t quite… human. His inhuman strength and other snake-like features set him apart from the rest, so why his best friend and roommate likes him so much, he doesn’t know why. All he knows is that he’s madly in love with Y/N. wc: — READ NOW!
❑ 「10:31」 MIDDAY HIKE ➮ näcken!Joshua × fem!Reader kinks: overstimulation + sensory deprivation prompt: ❛❛ Don’t act so innocent. I heard you. ❜❜ summary: Trekking through the forest has brought Y/N nothing but joy but now she’s hearing a mysterious violin playing in the distance and follows the sound to find the source. wc: — READ NOW!
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can you do the jeno instagram thing you did with mark, hyuck and jaem? it was the cutest thing ever PLSSSS
someone finally asked for my boyfriend🙈🙈🙈
enjoyyyyy hehehe!
Lee Jeno || in which jeno does his own take of a trend…
synopsis: in which jeno does his own take of a trend that shows how he tried to confess to his crush over various instagram stories
playlist:
Jasmine by DPR LIVE
Compass by The Neighborhood
If I Can’t Have You by Shawn Mendes
the perfect pair by beabadoobee
Die With A Smile by Lady Gaga, Bruno Mars
genre:smau, one shot au, friends to lovers, non!idol, fluff
warnings: fem pronouns, cussing, jeno being delulu #twin, and just fluff😞
#lee jeno one shot smau#lee jeno smau#lee jeno social media au#lee jeno fake texts#lee jeno x reader#lee jeno nct#lee jeno#jeno smau#jeno social media au#jeno x reader#nct jeno#jeno fluff#nct dream lee jeno#nct dream smau#nct dream one shot au#nct dream one shot smau#nct dream fake texts au#nct dream social media au#nct dream fluff#kpop one shot smau#kpop smau#kpoptexts#kpop social media au#kpopsmau#🐾
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