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theharrowing · 1 day ago

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Collateral 🗡️ 24: I have a proposition for you

Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

🗡️ Yoongi x Female Reader x Namjoon, Jungkook x Female Reader, Taehyung x Jungkook

🗡️ word count: 18.7k

🗡️ mafia au, strangers to lovers, graphic violence, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit 21+

🗡️warnings: casually discussing & thinking about previous violent events (involving guns, knives, cars, etc.); use of MDMA & cocaine, as well as a lot of whiskey; explicit smut (sex swing; sex under the influence of drugs & alcohol; voyeurism/exhibitionism; threesome; multiple orgasms & overstimulation; squirting orgasm; going non-verbal; a hint of subspace; crashing from the need of more after care but also from drugs) mc is still spiraling a lot.

🗡️note: hello, hello!!! ngl, it annoys me that Jimin's and Hoseok's hair are the wrong color in the mood board but it's impossible finding a good square pic of those three. also!!!! this is a reminder that mc is bisexual lol. also!!! drug come-ups and come-downs happen unusually fast because this is fiction. and because this was originally at least two chapters that have been condensed into one.

🗡️ also note: i love you. thank you for waiting. 💜

🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin

🗡️ posted Jan. 2025 | read on ao3

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With a jolt, you awaken, gasping and struggling to get your bearings. You blink, squinting against the sun that shines through the small rounded windows, slowly returning to consciousness. The plane bounces slightly as it taxis, and you lean over—or, rather, into—Hwasa as you peer out the window. The unfamiliar scenery reminds you that you are not home in Seoul but in Busan.

Bright sunlight causes your entire head to ache. You squeeze your eyes closed and bury your face into Hwasa's neck, which is soft and warm and smells like a fresh bouquet. She audibly pouts and raises a hand to shield your eyes, as well as pet your forehead.

"Rough night," she says sweetly, and you nod. "Don't worry, dove, we'll be home very soon."

The events of last night return in flashes, causing your stomach to roil unpleasantly. Despite Ryujin's insistence that Christian poses no threat, you are not so sure. The way he gripped your hand and stared at you felt pretty fucking threatening. He is not the man you once knew.

But you find it hard to believe she would put you in danger. After everything her family has done to harm Yoongi and his men, you imagine if anything happened to you, he would not hesitate to burn her home to the ground with everyone inside it. Just his display at the hideout alone speaks to his willingness to kill for you.

A cursory glance at your phone this morning showed Seokjin has managed to import everyone's numbers into your contact list. This assuages your concerns somewhat; at the very least, you are able to reach them should something go sideways. Never mind the fact that Seoul is four, possibly five hours away by car—a detail you choose to ignore for the time being.

You could text Yoongi right now and inform him of Christian's appearance. But what would that solve, realistically? He would likely appear with guns—or chopsticks—blazing and demand you return to a home that you so desperately felt the need to leave.

It is possible that Christian behaved the way he did last night because you nearly touched him. It could have been a sore spot for him to come so close to you again. Intoxicated, he may have behaved more strangely than usual. Perhaps bringing up his missing eye was triggering.

The plane finally slows to a stop, and one by one, the women begin to stretch and stand. A long red sedan waits outside, and you watch as staff members begin to move luggage from the plane to the back of the vehicle.

Your stomach lurches as you make your way to the steps and begin the descent to the tarmac. As tired as you are of questioning whether you are making a mistake, you are desperate to settle in and feel a semblance of peace. You would be happy to never leave your bedroom once you are introduced to one. It is not as if you are expected to work. At least, you don't think so.

Solar and Moonbyul climb into the far back of the vehicle, then Hwasa gets into the middle row and pats the seat for you to join her. You are about to scoot toward the center to make space for another, but Wheein rounds the vehicle and gets into the passenger seat as Ryujin slides into the driver's seat, making everyone accounted for.

Once you are buckled in and all the doors are closed, Ryujin is off, driving nauseatingly fast. She drives like she owns these streets—and maybe she does, but it makes you want to barf.

You close your eyes and lean into Hwasa, glad when she slots her arm around you easily. Now that the two of you will be under the same roof in a manner that feels more official, you wonder whether you should confront the way you feel around her. The butterflies, the dizziness, the urge to reach out and touch, the desire to be held just as you are now, but always. You are certain that it is nothing more than a crush and not worth dwelling on. But you are also aware of the fact that in no time at all your loneliness will shift to something carnal, and that having her in your bubble like this could become dangerously tempting.

"We're here," Hwasa says softly against the top of your head.

With a light, pleased sigh, you slowly open your eyes and begin to sit up. A large metal gate scrapes open, and you are greeted by the sight of a massive hanok made of beautiful, brightly stained pine wood and earthen bricks. Ridge-end tiles, pine purlins, and decoratively carved rafters and beams showcase traditional Korean craftsmanship.

The massive double doors are decorated with square metal frames, reminiscent of traditional wood and paper screen doors, and you watch in awe as the door on the right opens and several women come excitedly hopping out. You marvel at how tall and wide the structure is compared to them.

You recognize one of the women as the person who attempted to chuck a ball at your head the first time you went into Yoongi's pool. Surely, she must know that you have come to stay in the house. Is she likely to cause you more trouble, or have they been forced to come to some understanding that you will be living with them now?

Men in uniform follow behind the women and remain stationed at the door. They are dressed in black tactical gear, with handguns at their hips, and you think you even spot earpieces in their ears. Although you know their presence is meant to make you feel safe, something about their hard, stoic nature is off-putting, and you tear your gaze away.

"They're nice," Hwasa chides, gently pushing an elbow into your side. You must really look afraid for her to have noticed.

With a nod, you open the car door and slowly step out. It is warm, but there is a nice breeze that cools you. The sun, however, is bright and oppressive, and the more you stand directly in its shine, the harder your head pounds.

Ryujin and the girls gather all the luggage, including yours, and take it inside. You follow behind slowly, inviting Hwasa to link her arm into yours and lead you. The entrance is a small foyer with shoes on either side and two small tables on which keys and other items are stored, including sunglasses and chapsticks. You step out of your shoes and pass through a set of paper and wood screen doors, where the space opens up into what appears to be a massive sitting room that seems at least two stories tall.

Cushions, couches, and tables are strewn about with a pathway leading through the center and around the sides. The space is dimly lit with lamps interspersed and fairy lights that hang from the tall ceiling and along the walls, creating a dreamy atmosphere.

Through the space, there are hallways that lead to the left and the right, and a large, open kitchen and dining hall. The walls are white, with pine beams that complement the cabinets and floors, giving a traditional feel, but the counters and appliances are light marble and polished steel. Sinks are deep, wide basins with tall faucets that hang overhead, and the dishware appears to all be handmade ceramic, earthenware, and stainless steel.

On the far wall between the kitchen and a long dining table raised on a wooden platform is a door that Hwasa slides open, revealing a courtyard. She steps out onto a wooden ledge barefoot, and you follow behind. Stone paths snake and converge through a massive grassy space, surrounded by the rectangular shape of the hanok, with doors along the walls leading to what you imagine to be the various bedrooms.

"Ryujin sleeps in the far room," Hwasa says, pointing straight ahead to the opposite end of the large structure.

"I'm this way," she says, pointing to what you believe is the third door on the right, "And you will be this way," she says, tugging you to the left.

Along the length of the building is a wooden ledge, with a wide stone step in front of each room that leads down to the path, and on both sides of the ledge are potted plants. Some are flowers, some are small trees and shrubs; your room appears to be surrounded by bonsai trees.

Although the doors are traditional screen doors made of paper and wood, they have been enshrined in thick glass with ornate brass handles. As you reach the door to your new room and step up onto the wooden ledge, it slides open, revealing Ryujin's smiling face.

"Come on in," she says, pointing to a small white floor mat beside two sets of house shoes.

You step onto the mat, rubbing off any dirt that you may have tracked, then slide into the closest pair of soft white slippers before entering. There is a small entrance room similar to the foyer of the house, with a wooden railing to hang coats on the left and a wooden table and bowl on the right. In the bowl rests two gold keys on a small gold ring, and you reach for them, feeling their weight in your hand, and slide them into a pocket of the oversized hoodie that once belonged to Jeongguk.

The bedroom is a decent size, with a tall ceiling to accommodate a loft, the ladder for which is to the left as soon as you enter. A bed large enough to accommodate three is on a raised wooden platform on the right, with white pillows, blankets, and sheets. There is a dresser and a large mirror, all made of the same pine and brass as everything in the house, and similar to the doors, all the hinges on the furniture are in the shape of butterflies.

"This is lovely," you say, taking in the scent of the room. It seems to have been recently dusted, but there is a stuffiness to it that suggests it has been vacant for quite some time. You leave the door open to the courtyard as you sit down on the firm bed and take everything in.

"There is a small futon up in the loft, as well as a low table and cushions, in case you would prefer to be up there," Ryujin says. "And we can swap out the white bedding for something that feels a little more you."

You nod and crack a smile, saying, "Thank you."

"I might have something that's all black somewhere," she chides with a wink, making your cheeks warm. "In fact, one of my black comforters may have golden dragons embroidered on it. You can have a piece of Yoongi and Namjoon."

You hug your arms tightly around your middle, pulling your gaze away from her as she speaks. Although you are grateful for Ryujin's hospitality, it does feel strange knowing she has had such an intimate relationship with the men you love. Perhaps it is the casual nature with which she brings it up that you find particularly jarring.

"I will fetch you those items shortly," Ryujin says. "Feel free to look around. There are bathrooms interspersed throughout, but Hyejin and Hyungseo have master suites with their own. Luckily you do not have to work to butter anyone up to bathe in peace." She winks at you, then grins at Hwasa. "I also have a massive suite with a shower room and tub, which you are welcome to use any time."

Ryujin leaves the bedroom through the door that opens up to the hallway, but Hwasa takes your arm and tugs you back toward the courtyard. You step out of your slippers and slide the door closed, then follow her along the path leading to her door.

"It's faster than walking inside," she says, and you nod, finding it easy to imagine so. "There is also a shortcut from the front of the house, so you don't have to walk through the living room. And if you take a path past mother's door, there is a large outdoor pool and garden. Just don't be alarmed by the guards. They tend to hide in plain sight."

Hwasa pulls out a small ring of keys and slots a golden one into the door, twisting and then retracting it before sliding the door open. You step inside and are immediately hit with a sensation opposite to your bedroom.

Hwasa's room is much larger than yours, with an open door on the left that leads to a bathroom. She has no loft, only a tall ceiling from which she has hung fairy lights and fluffy clouds. Her bedding is pale pink, clothing and jewelry are strewn about, and the air smells distinctly of her. She sits on the bed and reaches for the drawer of the pine bedside table. From inside, she takes out a small golden key and holds it out for you.

"What is this?" you ask, dumbfounded.

"A key to my room, silly," she says through a chuckle.

You take the key between your fingers and examine it, but you are filled with a torrent of conflicting emotions.

"I couldn't possibly—" you begin, holding the key out to her, but she pushes your hand away, saying, "Nonsense. Just take it. You might get lonely in this large house, and I don't need you thinking you have to ask for permission each time you want to come see me."

You slide the key into your pocket, hearing it rattle beside your phone and the keys to your room. You do not tell her that you intend to knock or text before coming over and that it is something she is going to need to accept.

"Are you hungry?" she asks, and you nod. You are more than hungry; you feel absolutely hollowed out.

Hwasa leads you into the house this time, and you take light steps on bare feet, worried about making too much noise; hesitant to draw too much attention. At the end of the hall, you turn right and walk past the raised dining table, at which two women sit on the floor and pick at plates of fruit and bread.

“We have a chef who comes in the morning to stock the fridge,” Hwasa says as she approaches a large, wide refrigerator.

The stainless steel doors open from the center and inside are rows and stacks of glass containers filled with food. Hwasa rummages, pulling out a tub of cubed melons. You find a tub of glass noodles with carrot and other finely cut vegetables, and Hwasa retrieves a cold bottle of grapefruit-flavored soju. You expect to be led to the long table, but Hwasa opens the containers on the counter, retrieves bowls and utensils, and serves herself food only to immediately eat it where she stands. You do not object and do the same.

Slowly, the area fills with women, but you keep your head down, eating the food. The noodles are filling and the fruit is refreshing; the soju brings a little warmth to your chest and very slightly assuages your anxiety.

"Don't worry, you will get to know everyone soon enough," Hwasa mutters.

You hum, but you are not too certain it is possible. There must be at least twenty bedrooms connected to the long halls of the hanok, and you imagine there are rooms that could contain more than one person. How many women might clamber into Ryujin's bed at night, you wonder. Do they all have rooms of their own?

After eating, Hwasa returns the containers to the fridge while you take the used dishes and utensils to the sink and wash them. A large bamboo rack is on the left side of the sink, already stacked with various items, and you add yours to the pile, too unsure where things go to offer putting dried items away.

"Come," Hwasa says, tugging at your hands as soon as you are able to dry them on a cloth that hangs above the sink in a large window overlooking the courtyard. "Let's take a bottle to the gardens and lie on the grass."

With a new bottle of soju, you are led down a long hallway, past all the closed doors, to a gate nestled to the right of Ryujin's wide-open bedroom door. You glance into the space to find her room in bright pastels, namely yellow and orange, and as you avert your eyes, you think about the bedroom in Yoongi's mansion that was inherited from her. After seven years, things have been left the same, and you are unsure how to feel about that.

* * *

You are groggy and chilly as you roll over, waking up to the feeling of grass tickling your left cheek. At which point you had fallen asleep, you are unsure, but you are glad when Hwasa stirs and groans beside you.

Ryujin's garden is so similar to Yoongi's that when you first laid eyes on it, tears prickled, and you felt the overwhelming urge to spiral into an anxiety attack. Statues, shrub walls, fountains…there is even a shrub maze that Hwasa invited you to walk through, but the thought of it conjured memories of Namjoon, and you suggested instead to lie in the grass as was originally planned. The weight of everything must have pressed you down into a brief but deep sleep. The soju bottle was barely touched.

It is hard not to wonder whether you will ever see Yoongi's garden again. From where you sit, on a slight hill overlooking the labyrinth, you can see the large statue of a minotaur near the center, and you wonder whether Ryujin did it as an homage or a fuck you to Yoongi's garden. You like the addition of the minotaur but dislike how it mirrors the theme of Greek iconography. How much of her former life with Yoongi has Ryujin kept here? How often does she think of him? Are you as safe with her as everyone claims?

The rest of the day feels like a blur. You follow Hwasa around until it is time to retire for the night, at which time the roles reverse and she follows you. She offers to help you unpack your suitcase, but you opt to leave it for tomorrow. There is a finality in unpacking that you are not yet ready to face, despite the suitcase remaining a symbol of your ability to leave at any time. You suppose it is complicated. You do, however, find a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt in the depths of your luggage that are not as soft and comfortable as the ones you had been pilfering from Yoongi over the last several months but cozy enough to make you feel slightly more relaxed. Then you hug Hwasa good night, allowing her to place a kiss on your cheek but feeling incapable of returning the gesture.

Although the walls do a good job of keeping noise out, there is a faint, distant liveliness that can be heard from somewhere inside the hanok. You assume from the living room or possibly the dining room.

You climb into the cold bed and pull the white comforter up to your ears. You take a deep breath and close your eyes. You consider calling Namjoon but decide against it, worrying you may ask him to come bring you home. After lying still for an indeterminate amount of time, you sigh, get out of bed, and retrieve the golden keys from the wooden bowl beside your door.

The night is cold as you tiptoe in bare feet out into the courtyard, which is illuminated by string lights, light pollution, and a very bright moon. Although you clench the key to Hwasa's door, as you approach, you gently knock. It only takes a handful of seconds before a light turns on, and another handful until her door slides open. You enter without a word, wipe your feet off, and slide the door closed. Your keys jingle and slide into the basin of the wooden bowl.

Hwasa is barefaced and sleepy, and she smiles lopsided when she climbs into her bed and scoots to one side, facing you as you slip under the warm covers and nestle one arm under the pillow. Once you are settled, she rotates enough to shut off a small bedside lamp, shrouding you in darkness and the scent of flowers. Moments later, you are asleep.

* * *

The hanok is chaotic all day, from the moment you wake to the sounds of voices shouting excitedly, to the moment you stand before Hwasa's mirror wearing borrowed items, giving yourself one last look before setting off into the night. You hardly remember eating food, drinking coffee, and meeting women; your nerves have been alight at the knowledge that you will see your men one more time. One last time, you suppose, for the foreseeable future. It all makes your head spin, and you struggle to focus.

You wear the same asymmetrical little black dress that you wore the first day you met Yoongi—not because you find it amusing, although you do—but because you left behind all the dresses he bought you, and this is the only one you have that seems to fit the vibe of Serendipity.

Hwasa has draped your neck and wrists in gold chains, and you wear borrowed gold daisies in your ears that don't quite match but that you are fond of. She and Ryujin give you the smoky eye look that Yoongi likes so much and pin your hair back away from your face. Borrowed fishnet tights make you feel a bit self-conscious, but you enjoy the way they look with your black loosely-laced boots. You wonder whether the men will recognize the bits of your outfit that you once wore or if they even noticed your dress at all on that first day.

Everyone else wears black and gold, Hwasa in a tight bodice top and pencil skirt with stiletto heels, and Ryujin in a long-sleeve cropped turtleneck and tight leggings with tall boots. Both women are adored in chains, earrings, bracelets, and rings, shimmering with each movement, with their dark hair pinned from their faces and hanging down their backs, Hwasa's falling in pretty waves and Ryujin's perfectly straight.

Despite feeling excitement over seeing the men, you are also concerned about letting loose and feeling too comfortable, teetering continuously between wanting to stay and wanting to return to the mansion. As you take your medications followed by deep, slow breaths, you tell yourself to stop spiraling along this familiar train of thought. You know that it does you no good, and yet it loops endlessly. Finally, when everyone is ready and you feel like you have your shit as together as possible, you allow yourself to be ushered out to the long red SUV.

The drive to Serendipity is so short you could have walked there. Perhaps in another life, you would not need armored vehicles driving you from one destination to another. What had it been like all those months ago to finally have a modicum of freedom? How difficult would it be to run away for real and return to a lifestyle bogged down by working night shift jobs that allow you to be your own person again?

Several security guards are stationed at the door, glowing in the bright red of the familiar sign that reads Serendipity overhead. Ryujin has informed you that only her people, Yoongi's people, and neutral parties to the families will be in attendance, with the exception of bartenders and dancers. So it surprises you when you enter the building and it is already packed. You recognize men from Yoongi's staff but do not see the family men or any of the security staff you have gotten to know. Hwasa veers away immediately with the promise of being right back, so you stick close to Ryujin.

Last time you were here, Yoongi took you directly through dark hallways into a VIP space. This time, you enter the main floor. There is an open area with tables scattered throughout and a large bar on the left. A dancefloor is ahead in a semi-partitioned area, and the VIP section is raised to the far right, overlooking the dancefloor. Your gaze hangs on the VIP section, wondering whether your men are nestled away in those booths, bending low over piles of cocaine as Yoongi had you do—a memory that feels like an indoctrination of sorts into this lifestyle. But as far as you can tell, nobody is over there.

Everything is made of unassuming dark wood and shiny silver metal. It is far less flashy than you would expect from someone like Yoongi, considering it was his bar first. Nothing stands out but the bars, dance cages, and open space, as if the only thing that is meant to be experienced here are the people who come to dance. Or, perhaps, the main draw is downstairs…the thought of which makes you shiver.

Throughout the space, there are raised platforms with bars similar to the dance cages at Paradise. Inside, dancers clad in almost nothing sway and twist to the sultry music that plays overhead. It seems that most attendees are in this first room and not yet on the dancefloor. They congregate around the tall tables and in groups. You scan the room over and over for someone who is more than just vaguely familiar from the Hanok or security teams and feel disappointed when you do not find anyone to run off to as Ryujin places a hand on the back of your right arm and ushers you toward the bar.

People step aside as you approach, giving you and Ryujin a wide berth while never breaking from their conversations. Some turn to bow their heads to Ryujin, but most carry on as if she is not there. Once you are at the bar, Ryujin holds up three fingers, and the tender nods and turns to the shelves, producing a bottle that appears to hold whiskey.

"Your men are running late," she sighs as she glances at her phone before tucking it back into a pocket of her leggings. You feel relieved and disappointed at the same time.

"MDMA for the ladies?" the bartender offers as they set down three glasses of whiskey. You reach for the center glass and glance around for the owner of the third, happy when you see Hwasa's smiling face approaching.

"None for me," Ryujin says, but Hwasa chimes, "Yes, please!"

The bartender produces a small brass decorative box. When they open it, a twinkling song plays, but its tune is lost to the music playing overhead. In the lid of the box is a mirror that reflects your chest, and spinning slowly before the mirror is the figure of a tiny ballerina in a little pink tutu. The box is filled with a white substance that appears to be a mix of powder and crystals, and you turn to watch as Hwasa licks her fingertip and sticks it directly into the substance, then pulls it out, inspecting the powder and small lumps of crystal that coat her fingertip.

"It's fun," she says to you, eyebrows raised.

You nibble on the inside of your mouth, uncertain. The last time you did a similar drug with Jeongguk, you completely lost control of your emotions. But you were also in a more emotionally tumultuous state at the time, and you wonder whether doing it tonight might be different.

"I, uh…I actually took some with Jeongguk not too long ago and I think it had an adverse effect."

Hwasa frowns and asks, "Was it exactly like this?"

You examine the dust and shake your head. "It was more of an…"

"Amethyst color?" Ryujin fills in over your shoulder. You nod, turning your head slightly toward her.

"This stuff is a lot more pure," Hwasa says. "Amethyst was good, but it wasn't quite perfect. Of course, no pressure. But if you want to try a tiny bit, you can always return for more."

"Jeongguk mentioned it may have counteracted my antidepressants. But I was also in a really bad headspace." You feel like you are overexplaining, but truthfully, you are curious to try it again, especially if the women say this version is better than the one he had.

"How much did you take?" Ryujin asks.

"A small capsule," you say, turning to face her more fully.

Ryujin gives a knowing nod. "There are several factors that go into play when taking a drug like this. A capsule could have been too high of a dose, and rather than make you feel euphoric, it overwhelmed you."

You certainly felt overwhelmed that night. And you wonder whether it was the combination of what was in your system that made everything go sour or the aftermath of what Jeongguk had said to you. Do you think you could fall for someone like me? A shutter works its way along your spine.

"I would like to try a little," you say, eager to feel the euphoria and body high that you had the last time before everything went south.

You turn to Hwasa, whose finger is still coated in the drug. With a grin, she says, "This amount should only last about an hour or two. And the come-up and come-down are a lot smoother than they were with amethyst."

With a nod, you begin to lift a finger to your lips in order to wet the tip, but Hwasa beats you to it, holding her own close to your mouth. She raises an eyebrow, and you part your lips, feeling as self-conscious as you are excited to be given an invitation to suck on her finger. The substance is alarmingly sour, and your face puckers as you suck harder, doing your best to get all of it. Hwasa giggles, and when she removes her finger, you quickly pick up your whiskey and knock a mouthful back. As soon as you do so, you begin to worry that you are once again not in a good place to be doing drugs like this. But then you think of Yoongi and Namjoon, and warmth fills your chest, making it hard to imagine your night could turn sour.

Perhaps it is the nerves of waiting for the drug to kick in, but you drink your whiskey a little too fast. It makes you feel light on your feet, especially considering you only snacked all day, not having much of an appetite in anticipation for tonight. You ask for water and are relieved when a large, cold glass is set before you.

Hwasa and Ryujin both lean against the bar facing the main room, and you do the same, clenching the chilled glass as you rest your elbows against the bar top. You look between caged dancers, from glistening pecs and hard abs to soft curves. But your eyes trail to the front door the most, waiting for the men to arrive. It is not like Yoongi to be late, and the longer you wait, the more antsy you become.

And then, slowly, you begin to feel the tingle. It starts in your fingertips but resonates in your chest, too. You feel a warmth work its way over you, but also a chill—it's hard to fully grasp. More than anything, you have an overwhelming feeling that something is missing. Or, rather, someones. Plural.

Hwasa and a few of the women from Ryujin's home dance and giggle beside you. You continue to hold tight to the glass in your hands, eyes trailing back to the front entrance over and over. You would like to dance and sway and get to know the other women a little better, especially since they have stolen your pretty friend's attention. But you feel glued in place with a budding, blooming sense of enrapture and intrigue.

You sigh, drain the contents of your glass of water, and spin on your toes to lean against the bar and perceive a different, calmer perspective. As you set the glass down on the wooden bar top and stand taller in order to get the tender's attention, deciding that perhaps you would like more whiskey to take the edge off, two large, warm hands cover your eyes.

"Guess who," a rich, playful male voice says, and you grin, lifting your hands to cover his long fingers.

"Taehyung," you say, heart pounding, chest filling with warmth.

His hands fall away, and you spin around quickly, unable to hold back glee at the sight of Taehyung standing before you. He is dapper in a deep purple suit with a gold brooch of a tiger on his lapel and a caduceus on his breast pocket, connected by two gold chains.

"Finally," you say, slamming forward into a hug that he hesitates to return. Your arms slide around his ribs, and you flay your fingers open against his back, breathing in his earthy, spicy cologne that carries floral notes reminding you of Jeongguk. You squeeze, and he chuckles as his arms engulf you, gently squeezing back.

"I have a surprise for you," he says as you break the hug, keeping your arms loosely around his waist.

It feels good to hug—really fucking good—and you do not want to stop. You tilt your head to the side, glancing up into his devious eyes. "A surprise?"

Taehyung's eyes study yours, then he leans close and says, "Your pupils are quite dilated. What are you on?"

"Molly," you admit somewhat sheepishly. "Not too much, though. Didn't want a repeat of last time."

Although you have not spoken with Taehyung about last time, you assume that Jeongguk has. He gives a knowing nod.

"There are many factors that can cause someone to have a bad high," Taehyung explains, "one of which is allowing oneself to spiral into a negative thought loop. Sometimes even the best uppers struggle to fight against our demons. If you feel yourself going down that path, you can either do your best to reroute your thinking or remove yourself from the situation entirely."

You nod along, in appreciation of Taehyung's advice. However, it is all a bit too much—too stuffy, too serious—and you lose your patience for it.

Grinning, you ask, "What's my surprise?"

Taehyung chuckles. "I left it somewhere secluded and secretive." He holds out a hand and adds, "Follow me?"

You take Taehyung's hand and allow him to tug you along. Intrigue and excitement simmer through you, pulsing to the beat of the music but also to that of your heart. The path he drags you through is a familiar one: dark curtains, a narrow hallway that leads to a red-lit stairwell snaking deep into the building. The last time you were here, things were so different. You were so new to this world. So inexperienced.

What are you afraid of? Yoongi had asked, pressuring you into trying cocaine. Don't you trust me?

You shake the thought away, doing your best to remember what Taehyung said about keeping a positive mindset. After all, the visit here wasn't all that bad. The tone of his voice when he proudly proclaimed, that's my girl, made all of the pressure feel better. Things had gotten pretty exciting up until Namjoon called. Warmth snakes up your neck to your cheeks at the memory. Namjoon called, and Yoongi let him sit on the line while he finished eating you out.

At the bottom of the stairs, all the black doors are closed but one, which is cracked ever so slightly open. A soft purplish glow shines in a sliver from the bottom and right side of the door at the far end of the hall. Your palm prickles with sweat in Taehyung's hand, and you do your best not to wobble, feeling the full force of excitement laced with joy. And then Taehyung halts in place halfway to the door.

"Ah," he says, releasing your hand, "I nearly forgot."

In a swift movement, Taehyung removes a black piece of cloth from the breast of his jacket and places it over your eyes. Before you can so much as gasp, the cloth is tied tightly and he is taking your hand in his once more.

"You may commence walking," he says before tugging you along, and you stumble somewhat, legs struggling to keep up.

You think you hear voices, but then Taehyung snaps his fingers several times, louder than you have ever heard someone snap their fingers before. And then all you hear is the sound of downtempo music, footsteps, and your whooshing pulse.

A door closes, and you are led further. Then you are stopped.

"We thought it might be fun to play a game," Taehyung says as he lets go of your hand. You hear and feel him stepping away, possibly behind you, before two warm hands are placed on your shoulders. His voice is close to your right ear as he says, "A guessing game."

You smile widely. "And what do I win?"

There is a pause. Beside your left ear, he says, "Pleasure."

Goosebumps cover you and you let out a long, deep sigh, biting on your lower lip. Although you cannot see who is in the room, you can sense them. Colognes mingle in the air, all familiar, all filling you with desire.

In your right ear, he asks, "Are you ready, mon chéri?"

You swoon from the term of endearment, from the accent in which he utters it, from his closeness. Although your relationship with Taehyung differs from the others, you feel a deep sense of longing toward him—a kinship that extends just beyond the boundaries of something platonic.

"Yes," you say, breathy. Eager.

Taehyung's hands tighten on your shoulders, and then he steps away, leaving you to stand alone, suddenly a bit cold. "Keep your hands at your sides at all times," he tells you.

You nod, smiling sweetly.

"Yes, sir," he says in a commanding tone, and you let out a surprised gasp.

You respond, "Yes, sir," but your voice is light and breathy. You expect him to reprimand you and tell you to speak louder, but he does not.

"You are going to feel a touch," Taehyung says from just to your right, slightly behind you. "Perhaps you will detect a scent. You only have one guess per man. Answer incorrectly and they leave the room. Answer correctly, and they stay."

Leave the room? Anxiety swells knowing the stakes are so high. You swallow the lump that slowly forms in your throat and take a deep breath. You know your men. There is no way you are going to lose this game.

"How many are there?" you ask, worried Seokjin, Hoseok, or Jimin could be lingering somewhere, ready to throw you off.

Taehyung sighs, and you smile slightly.

"There are three, as well as myself. But I am not playing."

You nod and lick your lips. You can handle this, you tell yourself. This should be easy.

"Let us begin," Taehyung says.

You stand up straight, rolling your shoulders back as if good posture will give you any sort of advantage. Something in the room seems to shift, and you hear the rustle of fabric but not shoes. Unfair, you think, determined that you would be able to identify Yoongi's walk, if not the others.

Before you feel a touch, you detect a scent: spring morning, fresh and bright. You smile, lick your lips, and open your mouth, ready to greet Namjoon. But then you feel the backs of fingertips grazing your cheeks, and there is a musk that follows, which does not match the rest of the cologne.

The touch is delicate, trailing from your temple to below your ear, down the length of your neck. Your head turns, chasing the touch and the scent before fingers fall away. Silence hangs as you stand and wait, unsure whether you should guess. And then those hands grip you by the hips from behind, large and warm and so familiar.

As you inhale, thinking about all the times those hands have held you like this—all those times bent over and begging—you exhale and mutter through an aroused sigh, "Yoongi."

The fingers dig, grip tightening, and you picture his sharp, devious smile. And then the touch disappears, and you hear the rustling of more fabric.

Two hands grip onto your hips from in front of you, and you can feel the heat radiate from him, sensing he has stepped very close. He leans and rests his forehead against yours, and the bouquet of scents is unmistakable.

"Jeongguk," you declare, and the touch recedes completely.

In the seconds that pass before you detect the same blend of colognes as before, you begin to worry you may have guessed incorrectly the first time. It seems clear that Yoongi and Namjoon are trying to trick you, and you are certain that Yoongi has touched you the way the first man had. But, as far as you know, Namjoon could have, too. The grip on your hips felt like Yoongi—of that, you are certain. You take a deep breath and do your best to calm your nerves, but the drug has you feeling antsy.

Fingers cradle your chin, and you part your lips instinctively. Rather than a kiss, you feel the slow press of a thumb before the hand slides down, and the fingers splay across your throat. Typically, it is Yoongi who touches you this way, and you begin to panic, worrying more than ever that you chose the wrong man.

But then you focus on the feeling of the hand. It is large, warm, soft, and familiar, but it is not Yoongi's hand. It slides away, and then two hands gently grab your ribs as if steadying you or readying you for a hug. You can tell these men are trying to trick you, but it is not going to work because you know these hands.

"Namjoon," you say, voice broken behind the sudden urge to cry.

Footsteps approach from behind—Taehyung, undoubtedly—and then the cloth is lifted from your eyes, and you are left blinking to adjust to the red and purple lights cast from various bulbs, focusing on Namjoon's beautiful smile. His muscles strain under a jacket that is too tight for him, and you giggle as you step forward, causing his hands to slide around your back as you lean close for a kiss. But you stop just before meeting his lips as you notice something is different.

"Your hair," you say as you reach a hand up and rub it over a short stubble. He has a buzzcut, even all around with neatly shaven edges.

Namjoon nods slightly, but seems more interested in that kiss you interrupted than explaining the new look. He presses close, hums with pleasure, and holds you tight, licking firmly into your mouth in a way that nearly makes your knees buckle. You are too high to do anything but allow yourself to be tasted and touched, and as soon as he breaks the kiss, you mutter, "Does this mean I've won?"

Yoongi approaches from the right, stepping behind you and placing his large hands on your hips. You lean into him, smiling at Namjoon as Yoongi says, "You even saw through our parlor trick."

You pout, raising a hand to gently slap it over Namjoon's pec. He holds your hand in place, sandwiching you between their two bodies while two sets of lips claim your shoulders and neck.

"We had faith in you," Namjoon teases, making you feel all the more petulant.

You whine, "But what if I guessed wrong?"

Yoongi nips at your neck, forcing you to giggle and close your eyes. His voice is barely above a growl as he says, "Then you would have fucked Jeongguk while Namjoon and I took another room."

"Not funny," you whimper as hands rove your sides, grazing below your breasts and squeezing at your hips. You feel so good, but you also want to cause as much trouble as possible for these two. "I've missed you."

Fingertips cradle your chin, guiding you to turn your head to the right.

"What's the matter, doll?" Jeongguk asks, "Didn't you miss me?"

Your eyes blink open to find Jeongguk scowling at you. His satin leopard print shirt is unbuttoned below his pecs, and you allow your eyes to fall, taking in each hint of skin you can see. It is apparent that he is trying to appear angry, but his gaze is soft, almost loving.

Do you think you could fall for someone like me?

You push the thought away and reach an arm just far enough to hook a finger on Jeongguk's slacks and pull him close. As he stumbles and looms over you, you grin, tilting your chin toward him, wishing you could stretch yourself a little taller.

Jeongguk chuckles and leans in just close enough to press your lips together. You want more, straining toward him, but then he backs away and begins to fully unbutton his shirt.

"Our buttercup is high on molly," Taehyung announces, met with a chorus of hums and gasps. You bite your lip and sheepishly nod, eyes on the large swath of Jeongguk's bare stomach and chest.

"How high are you?" Yoongi groans against your neck.

Your eyes flutter closed from his touch, and you press your ass against him. Although you had somewhat forgotten about the molly, now you feel it absolutely shimmering through you. "Quite high."

Namjoon presses himself close and licks over your lips, then asks, "I bet you're pretty turned on, then, hmm?"

You smile. "How could I not be?"

"I have just the thing," Taehyung says as he walks past you to the center of the room. He disappears behind Namjoon, then reappears with a step stool that he places down and begins to climb.

Only now do you realize that there is something on the ceiling, which Taehyung unravels with quick movements. You have to heavy-blink several times to realize it is a sex swing.

"Undress her," Taehyung says.

Namjoon grins wide and devious, then says, "Yes, sir," just loud enough.

Two sets of hands make quick work unzipping your dress and yanking it—pushing it to the floor. You wobble and stumble as you step out of your boots and socks, clinging to Namjoon's shoulders while Yoongi, on his knees, assists you. Standing in only fishnets and panties, you feel simultaneously warm and cold as Yoongi stands, trailing his fingertips up the backs of your legs. He hooks his fingers into the netting of your borrowed stockings right in the crotch and roughly rips a hole in them, making you tremble and gasp.

"Fuck, I have missed you," Yoongi growls, hands roughly gripping your hips. Namjoon nods, eyes roving your body hungrily.

"On the swing," Taehyung instructs. "On your back."

Namjoon turns and leads you toward the swing. It looks like nothing more than an amalgamation of straps, and you watch as he clumsily lifts and attempts to sort them. With an exasperated huff, Taehyung steps forward, grabs onto the contraption, and simply presents it in a way that looks like a swing. You are surprised and amused, and you turn, stepping close to it and allowing Taehyung to lift you into it.

You giggle, and your head spins as your legs are maneuvered through straps and spread. It feels strange to trust these bits of rough fabric to hold you up, and you grip onto two sturdy straps that are connected to the ceiling brace while the swing is adjusted beneath you, and you are gradually convinced that it is safe to lie back.

"Darling," Yoongi teases through a chuckle as he unbuttons his dress shirt. "You look so worried. Relax."

You watch intently, chest heaving with each breath. Although you are eager for the events that are transpiring, you are also very high, verging on feeling overwhelmed. Not to mention, your heart feels ripped into warring halves—one part wanting to experience Yoongi and Namjoon again, and the other worried that it is a very bad idea.

Yoongi's black shirt is untucked from his slacks and slid off his broad shoulders by Namjoon, whose eyes are on you. He gently drapes the shirt over the edge of the large bed to your left, then returns, unbuttoning his cufflinks while Yoongi steps forward and gets down on his knees. It is difficult to keep your eyes on him; your eyelids flutter with the urge to close them and become lost to the drugs. But you remain as laser-focused as possible.

"Fuck," Yoongi says as he roughly spreads your legs, warm, calloused fingers yanking fabric to the side and digging into soft skin. "You have no idea how much I have missed this."

You open your mouth to say me too, but the first syllable is lost to the feeling of Yoongi's tongue against your clit. A loud moan rolls from your lips, chased by an intense wave of pleasure that courses through your limbs, causing your head to fall. Yoongi does not give you a chance to catch your breath, sucking and licking while making the most depraved sounds—groaning like a man who is finally satiated after days of fasting. Pleasure builds quickly, and you can already imagine the deep, pleased laugh he makes before teasing you for cuming too quickly.

The sound of a zipper causes you to open your eyes, and you find your head, which is hung back in ecstasy, level with Namjoon's crotch. Reluctantly, you reach back, gasping both from pleasure and the feeling of the swing shifting and swaying from the movement.

Yoongi, either helpful, impatient, or both, grips your thighs tightly, holding you in place. You rub your hands over the sides of Namjoon's legs, licking your dry lips, wishing you had water. Namjoon lets his slacks slide down, and the fabric tumbles to the ground. A particularly slow lap over your cunt causes you to shiver and moan, losing focus on the prize above your semi-upside-down head, and Namjoon chuckles as he palms the tight dark cloth over his growing erection.

Your eyes flutter closed as you lean back, head fully upside down, sinking into the pleasure that claws at you so fiercely, you are moments away from bursting. Clothing rustles, metal clangs, and you feel hands on your legs and ankles lifting and spreading you while Yoongi continues to suck and lick. It is clear that you are being restrained, with fabric encircling your ankles and keeping them suspended high. When you open your eyes and attempt to take in the scene, you realize you are tilted back too far to see Yoongi's head between your legs. Instead, you see Jeongguk towering over him.

Fingers breach your entrance, sliding easily despite the tight sting, causing you to whimper. Yoongi's thick knuckles graze deliciously past your walls, and as you relax to his intrusion, his tongue and lips match the steady pace of his hand, bringing you crashing instantly with orgasm. Your head falls back hanging as you squeal and gasp, so overcome with bliss that you feel the urge to crawl out of your skin. You tremble wildly, held tightly in place as your legs yank against their restraints. Yoongi does not slow or stop, and you find yourself gasping for breath and practically screaming from pleasure.

"That's it, doll," Jeongguk practically growls, voice deep and lust-laced. "Make a fucking mess of him."

Only now do you hear the release squelching wetly from you with the movement of Yoongi's hand. Liquid sprays on your thighs, and you gulp for air, no longer able to moan, simply heaving each breath in and out of your tired lungs.

Yoongi removes his mouth and slides his fingers free. When he stands, you notice his mouth glistening, and he makes a show of licking you from his fingers with a hum. Namjoon, who is nude, thick cock erect and level with your face, steps around the swing, meeting Yoongi halfway, and licks your cum from his chin and lips. They kiss deeply, hungrily, lapping your taste from one another, and you watch reverently, wishing for one of them to kiss you in that way—too need you in that way. How is it, you wonder, that you can be practically nude, restrained, covered in your own cum, and the center of attention, and still feel such a deep, aching sense of loneliness and dread?

The feeling fades as skin rubs over your cunt, soft yet firm. You turn your head, slowly as if in a dream, and find Jeongguk standing between your legs with his satin leopard shirt unbuttoned and his slacks open, cock standing erect between the parted zipper. He glares down at you like an animal who has caught his prey, and you part your lips to take a deep, eager breath, feeling at a loss for words.

"May I?" Jeongguk asks, rubbing his cockhead over you once more—undoubtedly the sensation you felt moments ago.

You nod, head turning once more to watch Yoongi and Namjoon paw at one another, connected at the lips, then return your gaze to Jeongguk. He stares down at you as if in waiting, so you croak out a soft, "Please."

"Please, what?" Jeongguk asks.

Licking your lips, you notice Taehyung standing over Jeongguk's shoulder, dark eyes on you. You are high enough that you wonder whether he would like to fuck you, as well. And with a lift of one of his eyebrows, you wonder whether he has somehow just read your mind, although it is more likely that he is encouraging you to answer Jeongguk.

"Please fuck me," you finally say to Jeongguk, though you have failed to rip your gaze from Taehyung. His hands are nowhere to be seen, and you can't help but imagine him touching himself to the sight of you.

"Slowly," Taehyung says, eyes on you. "Make her beg a little more."

Jeongguk grins, responds with a sharp, "Yes, sir," and steps forward. His cock rubs against you again, grazing over your clit before catching on your entrance, and you hold your breath in anticipation. Only he does not press forward. He does not enter you. Instead, he stands watching you with a hint of a grin that spells trouble. And you are not too proud to beg.

"Jeongguk," you mutter, wiggling in the swing, doing your best to push yourself forward but doing nothing that helps your cause whatsoever. "Please."

"Please, wh—"

"Fuck me!" you practically scream.

Jeongguk chuckles, as does Taehyung. To your right, where Yoongi and Namjoon had been connected at the lips, the shapes and shadows of them move to stand behind you.

"Please," you say again, knitting your brow, attempting to hold your head up despite how tired your neck feels. You hold eye contact as well as you can manage, but your eyelids flicker against your will. "Please fuck me. I need you."

Hands reach and grab your breasts—tan, lithe fingers; Namjoon's hands. He squeezes you firmly and rolls your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, causing you to exhale and almost drop your head. You want to feel full so badly, and you wish Jeongguk would cave.

"I said go slow and make her beg," Taehyung says as his hands snake around Jeongguk's waist and rub over his chest and stomach, "not leave her empty and desperate."

Jeongguk's eyes fall to your cunt, where he rubs himself languidly over you, teasing your parted lips and ghosting over your hole. He appears hypnotized, staring down at you, barely moving. This makes Taehyung snicker and paw a little more aggressively at his chest.

"If you won't fuck her, I'm sure someone else will," Taehyung says, gaze roving between your pussy and your face. "You don't want to lose your chance, do you, baby?"

You attempt to read his expression, wondering whether he is insinuating that he will be the one to finally fill you the way you need—a thought that you are not sure you should be having but that the drugs will not let you let go of. Neck tired, you drop your head back and shiver, feeling suddenly cold. You begin to become acutely aware of how untouched and naked you are. Even Namjoon's hands have moved away from your chest, leaving you on display.

"Please, someone," you complain, sounding whinier than you want. You shiver harder, each second seeming to pull you down from your high and cover you in a mist of freezing discomfort. "Touch me."

Warm hands press to your forehead and face, and you look up to see Yoongi leaning over you. His brow is knit, outgrown hair hanging prettily in his face. "Are you coming down?" He asks.

You nod. You must be; the jittery discomfort is impossible to ignore, and the euphoria feels dull.

"Hang on, Ggeuk," Yoongi says as he disappears. He rummages through some fabric and reappears. "This is the same as the shit you took upstairs," he says, then, "Open," and you do as you are told, opening your mouth with an exaggerated ahhh sound. The powder that hits your tongue is intensely bitter and antiseptic tasting, causing you to cringe and pucker, desperately gathering all the saliva you can in your mouth and swallowing it down.

Namjoon, however, takes your mouth and prises it open, then leans close and dribbles cold water from his lips to yours. When and where Namjoon produced water, you are unsure, but you open wide, accepting his offering graciously, allowing it to drip down your throat, taking traces of the unpleasant flavor with it.

"More?" he asks, and you nod, still feeling the lingering drugs on your tongue. Namjoon lifts a glass to his lips, fills his mouth, and then leans close, allowing it to spittle out and onto your tongue.

Once Namjoon is finished, he stands and takes a step back. Yoongi steps close and, taking advantage of how wide open your mouth still is, begins to tap the head of his cock against your tongue. You attempt to open wider—attempt to move closer—reaching back in the hopes of grabbing onto him and moving him near enough to allow you to suck his dick. However, even he seems eager to tease, and he keeps himself just out of reach. You whimper and moan, mouth lolled open. Namjoon chuckles and reaches once more to paw at your breasts, keeping his beautifully erect cock too far from reach, as well.

"You guys are the worst," you pout, closing your mouth to Yoongi's teasing and jutting out your bottom lip instead.

"Alright," Yoongi chuckles, reaching for your jaw. "No more teasing. Jeonggukah, fuck her right now or Namjoon will take your place."

You miss whatever snarky remark Jeongguk says in favor of loudly saying, "Finally!"

Hands grip your thighs, and you are speared unceremoniously and somewhat unyieldingly on Jeongguk's thick, hard cock. The sensation makes you squeal, involuntarily bucking your hips, and he grips tightly, forcing you to take his entire length all at once.

"Fuck," you pant, mouth hung open and attempting to angle your head upward to watch Jeongguk fuck you. But your head is held in place as two fingers press down on your tongue, causing drool to pool before those fingers are replaced with a dick.

Suddenly, you are too full, worked from both ends—gently on one end and rather roughly on the other. You attempt to breathe and relax as your throat is slowly but eagerly opened and fucked, all the while Jeongguk's thighs slam against you in a rhythm that jostles you and causes you to deepthroat who you presume to be Yoongi.

Had Taehyung's earlier game been testing whether you would be able to tell the difference between their dicks in your mouth with you down on your knees, you think you would have easily won. You think you would know any part of them inside any part of you. But at this angle, unable to even properly see the legs of the man who holds you so tenderly but eagerly, with Jeongguk pounding into you like a ravenous beast, you are stumped. Everyone in the room seems to be moaning and gasping, and you imagine that whoever's dick is not in your mouth is in someone else's hand, judging by the sound of skin rubbing against skin. The hands on either side of your face could be mismatched; in this position you are unable to guess.

As the head of the mystery cock presses even deeper into your throat, however, seemingly stretching and opening you in a new, exciting way, the shattered, blissful sound that rips out belongs to Yoongi, and all at once, you are certain that it must be him. And then he pulls out, trailing long strings of saliva from deep in your throat that turn cold the second they hit the air and fall against your chin and down to the floor, bringing Yoongi's paler thighs into view. You gasp for air but allow fingers to press against your tongue. Only now are you able to fully focus on the way your pussy is stretched and pounded so well, and you moan unabashedly, your body quaking its way toward another orgasm.

It occurs to you that you must be high again, but this time from cocaine. The powder Yoongi dropped onto your tongue certainly tasted like the molly you had earlier, but also something else—a combination, no doubt.

Yoongi's hand grips your neck and holds your head up at an angle that allows you to fully see Jeongguk. He is naked and covered in sweat, fingers digging into your skin, and he looks stunning as he fucks you as hard as he seems able to. As the hand presses against your throat and another hand belonging to Namjoon snakes through the straps of the swing and begins to rub over your clit, you explode from pleasure.

Jeongguk's expression widens from alarm and pleasure, and he has to keep from getting pushed out of your cunt as wave after wave crashes over you. When he finally does pull out, he is sprayed with your release, giving you only seconds to scream from the intense orgasm that Namjoon urges out with his swirling fingertips before Jeongguk's cock is back inside you, slamming hard.

Only when Jeongguk pulls out and takes a step back do you see Taehyung in the shadows down on his knees. He opens his lips, and Jeongguk slides his glistening cock inside, moaning as Taehyung finishes him off, swallowing his cum. You spiral on the thought of Taehyung also tasting you but are distracted by Namjoon stepping in front of the scene, stroking his cock and looking down at the mess that is your spread, dripping pussy.

You expect him to fuck you, but he falls to his knees to lap over your cunt and thighs. He prods three long fingers inside you, and you sigh against the hand still at your throat, lost to bliss. It is incredible how easily you cum, even as your high begins to build once more and the tingling nearly feels like too much to bear. When Yoongi's hand lifts from your throat, you feel somehow dizzier, watching as he steps around the swing to join Namjoon on his knees.

Everything is a momentary blur as Namjoon and Yoongi take turns between your legs, using their lips, tongues, and hands to make you unravel past the point of becoming non-verbal. You are vaguely aware of hands on your face, throat, and breasts, feeling the presence of Jeongguk behind you at times and beside you at others. The only constant is Taehyung standing ahead, in shadow, watching.

You take Jeongguk's cock in your throat and drool shamelessly, making as much of a mess as the men between your legs are. In waves, you feel pleasure acutely, bursting through each inch of you, only for it to dull out while you focus on opening your throat as far as it will go. It feels like a dream the way you are touched and used; the dim red and purple lights seem to streak each time you open your eyes.

It is only when your legs are released from the restraints and you are forced to sit up that you feel fully in your body once more and aware of the room and its inhabitants. You hum questioningly and wipe drool from your chin as the straps are moved from beneath you, and you are made to place your feet on the floor in a squatting position.

Below you, Namjoon lies back against the carpet, atop what looks like a bedsheet, and he reaches up to take you by the hips and pull you down. You spear easily on his thick, hard cock, gripping onto the straps of the swing that connect to the ceiling high above your head on either side for stability, and use your leverage to lift and lower yourself. Namjoon meets you halfway, thrusting his hips upward, and the sensation pulls a raspy moan from your mouth—the first sound you have made in a while.

You bounce eagerly on his dick, lost in the movement while your head lols, and you moan unabashedly, so full and at such an incredible angle. Hands paw at your breasts and face, and you open your eyes to find Yoongi to your left, cock leaking and eager. Your lips are sore from stretching around cocks, but you are happy to comply, sucking him only half as deep as you would like but humming and moaning and drooling just for him.

Namjoon holds you in place by the hips and fucks hard and fast, causing you to drop Yoongi from your mouth and scream through an intense, dizzying orgasm. Yoongi gets onto the floor in time to lap over your cunt and make you quake from overwhelming pleasure, and then you feel Namjoon's hips still as he fills you with his hot release.

Your legs shake as you are pulled to your feet and maneuvered. You release the straps of the swing and barely catch sight of the bed before you are bent over the edge of the mattress with one large hand pressing the side of your face firmly against the comforter.

"Yes, please," you beg, desperate for the way Yoongi holds you down and makes you his.

"Please, what?" he asks, voice low and close, breath hot against your face.

"Fuck me, Yoongi. Please."

You feel the tip of his cock graze over your entrance, catching on the stretched and ripped fishnet fabric that once covered you. Your lips open and close, dragging over the soft bedding, unable to fully voice your need and desire. It almost feels unfair that you should get to enjoy him last.

"You miss my cock this much?" he asks, and you realize you have been grinding your ass against him like a bitch in heat.

You nod, winning you a smack against the ass that stings enough to make you squeal. Yoongi squeezes the spot where he slapped and says, "Use your words," in a sharp, commanding tone.

"Yes, sir," you whine. "I've missed your cock. Please. Please, please."

Yoongi lessens the press of your face but keeps his hand on your cheek, holding you in place, showing you that it is he who calls the shots. He rubs his cock over your hole and then presses slow and deep, forcing you to gasp and tremble. You feel sore and used, but you are desperate for more—for him. There is a part of you that is glad it is only the two of you in this moment.

Yoongi starts slowly with one hand on your face and the other on your ass, spreading you. He pulls and pushes in long strokes that you feel each and every inch of, driving you absolutely insane with want. Then he lifts his hand from your face, making you acutely aware of the fact that you had been drooling a cold spot onto the blanket. Both hands find your hips, and you lift your head in time for Yoongi to snap forward, making your back bow with pleasure.

He fucks you hard and fast, a delicious rhythm that you know by heart. You grip onto the comforter and keep your head lifted, letting out each desperate sound that crawls up your throat, eager for Yoongi to know just how good he makes you feel. He lifts one hand and wraps his fingers around your throat, and you see stars, vision blacking as your eyelids flutter closed and you chase a long, rolling orgasm that seems to build and crash, over and over, until your legs are shaking and your body falls limp.

Yoongi continues to use you, slapping and squeezing your ass. "So fucking perfect for me," he moans, thighs crashing against you in loud slaps that burst loudly in the otherwise quiet room.

You nearly forget that it is not just the two of you in existence, that there are other bodies in this room, more bodies upstairs, infinite other bodies in the world. The urge to cry builds and breaks, tears wetting your cheeks and the blanket as Yoongi's thrusts slow into deep rolls, filling you so perfectly. Yoongi must have given you more of the drug cocktail than you managed to suck from Hwasa's fingertip the first time because you feel more high than you have all night. Immensely high. High in a way that makes you question whether you have ever loved another person as much as you love Min Yoongi—in this moment, but in the soft, quiet moments, as well.

Yoongi moans and digs his fingers into your skin, then he cums deep inside you. Rather than pull out, he lies forward, draping his body over yours, panting against you, and pressing you forward. It is awkward the way your bodies are bent, and it makes you giggle. Yoongi chuckles in return, then slowly begins to stand. He presses his lips to your neck and shoulders, then his warmth retreats, leaving behind sweat that turns cold and makes you shiver.

It occurs to you that you will need to move, and you groan. The thought of standing—of using your legs at all—feels impossible. Luckily, a warm hand presses against your lower back, and Namjoon's deep, sweet voice instructs you to stay where you are. A warm cloth rubs over your sore cunt, and you jolt before relaxing into the touch. He wipes you down, then leans close and kisses your neck and shoulder similar to the way Yoongi had.

Yoongi and Namjoon—wearing black slacks but no shirts, glistening with a sheen of sweat—assist you with getting fully naked before gathering your clothing. You are given a dry, clean pair of panties, which Yoongi pulls from the pocket of his jacket, flashing a sheepish grin as he tucks the soiled pair in their place. The stockings are ruined and tossed aside, and Yoongi apologizes for not knowing to bring another set.

"You owe Hyejin," you say with a raised eyebrow, attempting to seem upset about the inconvenience to your friend but unable to keep from smiling.

You realize now that Taehyung and Jeongguk are gone, and you wonder whether they are in another room or have gone back up to the party. You mean to ask, but you are still too floaty to focus on anything but the hands on your body, zipping your dress and stepping each foot into socks and boots. As Yoongi slides his arms into a black satin shirt, you lean half-sitting against the bed, watching him. You have missed those hands, that hair, those muscles. Everything about him. And yet, you are frozen in a limbo of sorts, even now hesitating to reach out and touch him.

His jacket is draped over the end of the bed to your right, and you watch as he walks past, picks it up, and puts it on. You feel mesmerized by his presence, by the slight ringing in your ears, by your body continuing to fully return to itself. You are unsure whether it is the drugs or the sex, or likely both, but you feel as if you are still somewhat tethered to your corporeal form but not fully inhabiting it.

Yoongi runs his hands down his front, smoothing down his jacket, then turns to hand Namjoon his. They lean close, smile sweetly, and share a soft, slow kiss. Then Yoongi pulls his phone from his slacks pocket, thumbs around, and smiles.

"Tae wants the stash," he says.

Finally, you ask, "Where did they go?"

"Next door," Namjoon replies as he straightens his jacket, which covers a black satin shirt matching the one Yoongi wears.

Yoongi steps forward and uses his fingertips to tilt your chin upward. You expect a kiss and part your lips, but Yoongi uses his thumbs to rub at what you imagine is very smeared makeup. Once he is satisfied, he hums and places a kiss against the tip of your nose. He attempts to step back, dropping his hands from your face, but you are unsatisfied, and you grab onto the lapels of his jacket, yanking him toward you with a force that makes the two of you stumble.

"Not so fast," you mutter before your lips meet. You sigh into the feeling and continue to grip his jacket, relaxing only as Yoongi's arms encircle your waist and pull you close.

He deepens the kiss, and tears streak down your cheeks, hot and fast. You chase his tongue, licking, tasting him, tasting yourself, drowning in this moment, in him. And then your tears turn into sobs, and you break the kiss and fall into Yoongi's chest. You tell yourself that it is just the drugs, that you are simply overwhelmed, but you know that is not the full truth. You love him. You miss him. As much as all of this has been an incredible reprieve, the thought of letting him go again feels like a nightmare.

But what could be a greater nightmare than witnessing your friend get shot, than feeling the crushing weight of another vehicle slamming into yours, than the popping crunch of bullets meeting glass and polycarbonates? Your heart feels ripped in two, and you catch your breath, shaking your head as two deep, concerned voices ask whether you are alright, then attempting to nod, knowing that the gesture is unconvincing.

"This has all been a lot for you," Namjoon says, warm thumbs stroking your cheeks. You open your eyes to find his sad smile shining toward you and collapse into his chest, still partially in Yoongi's hold.

The two of them softly shush and stroke you, telling you that you are safe and loved, that they are sorry for how intense everything has become, how they should have known you would need more aftercare.

"Want to go back to the hanok?" Yoongi offers. "A dip in the tub might be good for you."

You think about Yoongi and Namjoon in Ryujin's home, and your stomach roils. Everything has been significantly too strange, and that might make matters worse. And there are still people upstairs who you would like to spend time with. One in particular who you feel like you haven't seen in many lifetimes.

"No," you insist, catching your breath. "You're right, it got too intense. I just needed to come back to earth a little more."

Despite being antsy to leave this room that smells like sweat and cum, they continue to comfort you a little longer. It feels nice, and you tilt your head in a way that urges a soft, sweet kiss from Namjoon. Then the three of you finally bid this room farewell, and you walk into the hallway, hand in hand with Yoongi on your left and Namjoon on your right.

Only, Yoongi pulls away at the first door on the left and knocks, digging into his pocket and pulling out a silver vial that is similar to the one he wears on a chain around his neck, but larger. You wait a beat, breathing deeply in an attempt to get your bearings. At some point, the high must have plateaued because you can feel yourself coming down again, and this time, you are certain that you do not need more powders floating around in your bloodstream.

The door swings open, and you are shocked to see Taehyung standing in only a pair of dark briefs. His hair is tousled, body is covered in sweat, and there are deep scratches down his chest and arms that are raised and red. Yoongi hands the vial over, which Taehyung takes, nodding his thanks. You look past Taehyung to see a nude Jeongguk in the middle of the room, restrained to a sex swing but standing—well, swaying—with his body limp and head drooped forward. He, too, has deep welts scratched down his arms and chest, as well as other red marks that suggest impact play of some kind.

"He just needs a little pick-me-up," Taehyung says with a wink before disappearing into the room and shutting the door behind him. You remain standing with your mouth agape until Yoongi takes you by the hand, and you are led back upstairs.

Namjoon excuses himself to the restroom, and you consider following, self-conscious about the way you must look after what has taken place. You trust that Yoongi will not bring you back upstairs with messy hair and makeup, but you imagine you must have cried and rubbed off every last trace of eyeshadow and mascara. Still, you are more eager to have a drink in hand and continue with Yoongi into the main hall.

Your legs tremble as you make your way to the party, and a jolt of fear rips through you at the sight of the man standing behind the bar who looks suspiciously like Christian, causing your step to falter. Yoongi clocks the movement, turning to you with a hum, and you look over to him, to his curious gaze, then ahead, opening your mouth to tell him what you see. Only, you do not see Christian. The bartender has shaggy dark hair and wears all black, but otherwise looks like every other man in the building. Hell, in a dark enough room, with long enough hair, Jeongguk could look enough like Christian to give you pause.

You chuckle and smile softly, doing your best to play it off. "Just a little shaky from the come-down."

Yoongi hums again, accepting your answer as the two of you continue your approach to the bar. Seokjin, Hoseok, and Jimin stand along the rightmost edge, drinks in hand. Jimin faces you with his elbows against the bar between Seokjin and Hoseok, who seem to be speaking to and around him. They all wear tan suits—Seokjin's and Hoseok's a darker shade with beige ties and burgundy shirts. Jimin's suit is lighter, fitted tighter, and he wears what appears to be a satin ascot tucked into a white shirt with its top two buttons undone and burgundy suede loafers.

As you approach, you notice a glazed-over darkness in Jimin's eyes, and you have to wonder whether he has partaken in the drugs. He smiles lazy and open, pushing off the bar and turning momentarily to shove his glass of clear liquid into Seokjin's free hand. Seokjin scoffs as if Jimin's action inconveniences him, but his eyes are soft and loving as he shakes his head and continues his conversation with Hoseok, double-fisting his and Jimin's drinks

A sexy R&B song plays overhead, and Jimin's hips dip and sway as he approaches. You watch his movements, impressed with how fluid and delicate he can be. He lifts his hands when you are close enough and runs fingertips of both hands gently over your temples, to your cheeks, and along your neck. A shiver works its way down your spine, and you grin through slightly clattering teeth. The ascot around his neck has a pretty floral pattern and you feel the urge to touch it.

"Need more molly, dove?" Jimin asks.

You shake your head, unsure whether you can handle the come-up and come-down again after all that has transpired downstairs—especially given your emotional state, although your nerves seem to have calmed a bit since your episode downstairs.

"Coke?" he offers, pulling a chain around his neck and revealing a large silver cross with roses inlaid all around it.

With a chuckle, you nod. You have no evidence to support the claim, but you feel like cocaine might even you out. Or it could make you worse. Still, you accept when Jimin unscrews the top of the cross and produces a small spoon connected to his chain that is already full of white powder. You lean close and lift your hand to delicately hold his hand in place and snort the drug into your right nostril. Jimin retrieves one more spoonful, and you repeat the motion on the left side. All the while, Yoongi holds onto your right hand.

"So," Jimin says, leaning to rest his forehead against yours and speaking as he snorts two small piles of coke and then replaces the spoon. "Yoongi's scar…he won't tell me how it all went down, and you know I will die if I don't have all the gossip."

Yoongi's hold on your hand loosens and falls away, and you attempt to look his way, but you are stuck in place as Jimin's arms snake around your waist.

"Whiskey, darling?" Yoongi asks, leaning close.

You try to nod and mutter, "Yes, please. Thank you."

Once he walks away, you sigh and lift your arms to wrap around Jimin. He sways slightly to the music, and you mirror his movements, unable to resist.

"Are you sure you want to recount that night?" you ask.

Jimin hums and nods. You can't see much, but you can see him smile.

You sigh. "After you were shot, I went into a rage." Emotions build, trembling as they fill your chest. Your voice wavers as you say, "Jimin, I lost my fucking mind."

Jimin's arms tighten, and he pulls you into a hug, resting his chin on your shoulder. You sigh and smile, wrapping him in a tight embrace. It is hard not to lament the fact that he has finally woken up and you are not in Seoul to spend time with him. You miss him dearly, and all the chaos that is Paradise.

Once the hug loosens, you both stand straight, hands still on each other's hips. Jimin sways and heavy-blinks, and you wonder why he is so content wasting his high on this moment when he could be on the dancefloor or tangled downstairs with someone on one of the beds. When he giggles, his entire face lights up.

"Doll…I don't know what this has to do with his scar."

At this, you swallow thickly and rapidly blink. The cocaine is hitting, and you have to take in a deep breath.

"Just listen," you say, then swallow again. Jimin frowns. "After you were…" you trail off, unable to say it again.

Jimin raises his eyebrows, slowly and clearly saying, "Shot."

You let out a breath that is halfway to laughter and nod, causing him to smile in return. "Yes, well, I emptied my clip in the guy's face." Jimin's eyes widen and he gasps. "I'm sure I looked insane just shooting a dead man in the head over and over and…"

The song switches to something slightly more upbeat and Jimin sways harder. You struggle with the mental image of the man on the ground with six bullets turning his face into a pile of gore. The sound of flesh, blood, and bone becoming pulp with each shot echoes in your mind and you swallow thickly, then look over Jimin's shoulder, nodding to Yoongi. You need that drink.

Yoongi, who leans against the bar between Namjoon on his left and Seokjin and Hoseok on his right, nods once and steps forward, holding a glass of whiskey in each hand. You wonder whether he has stood there just like that this entire time waiting for your signal. Has he been watching you? What must he think, knowing you feel so deeply for him despite being unwilling to return to his home? Does this, too, open a deep scar on his heart matching the one over his eye?

You stand a bit straighter as Yoongi approaches, and Jimin mirrors you then slowly pulls away, giving you distance. He continues to dance, but there is a faraway look in his eye as you reach past him for the drink in Yoongi's hand.

"Mind if I cut in?" Yoongi asks.

Jimin steps closer, pulling you tight once more, causing your fingers to slip away from the glass that is thankfully still held tightly in Yoongi's grasp.

"Yes, I fucking mind," Jimin says in a snarky tone. You continue to reach for the drink. "She was entreating me with the wonderfully harrowing tale of how you got that pretty little battle scar, since you won't tell me."

Yoongi groans and rolls his eyes, attempting a smile. But you can tell that there is something else in that expression. Something he does his best to tamp down and keep out of sight. He hands you his drink and nods a little bow before returning to the bar.

"Touchy subject?" Jimin teases.

You frown, "Well, I was the one who gave him the scar."

Jimin's hold on you drops at the same time his mouth falls open. Suddenly, you want to curl in on yourself, but you opt to lift the whiskey to your lips and take a nice slow swig, instead. It burns against your tongue, much stronger and more flavorful than what you had been drinking earlier in the evening, and it takes you a moment to gather yourself and continue your story.

"As I said, you were shot and I lost my mind. First, I emptied my clip into the man's head. Then, out of anger over having no more bullets, I tried to bludgeon him with the butt of the gun. But Namjoon caught me and dragged me away, and my weapon was confiscated."

You pause again to take a sip, doing your best to read the expression on Jimin's face. It seems to be a mix of shock and sadness, but also something akin to admiration.

"I was still in a rage, and so I reached for the switchblade that Jeongguk and Taehyung gifted me, which was in a garter on my thigh." You watch as Jimin's expression deepens, and against your will, tears begin to form in your eyes. You rapidly blink, doing your best not to let them fall, and as you continue, your voice wavers. "I took out the knife and attempted to lunge forward. Namjoon caught my hand and pulled it back, and tip must have—"

You remember the way the blade caught and snagged; the way blood leaked between Yoongi's fingers. With a gulp, you finish your drink. Jimin thumbs at the tears you are unable to prevent from falling, then takes your hand and leads you out of the main room and into the hallway, near the restrooms. It is dark and a bit quieter, and he pulls your empty glass from your hand, then wraps you in a hug.

Although you do not feel the urge to fully cry, you lean into the hug and breathe deeply, allowing the tears that have formed to fall. Jimin's hands—which are free of drinkware, and you are unsure how—rub over your shoulders and neck. After a long moment of breathing in Jimin's cologne and settling your heart, you nod and Jimin breaks the hug. You feel exhausted by this night.

Jimin takes your hand and pulls you into the restroom, which is too brightly lit for comfort, making you squint. He pulls a tube of mascara from the inner breast pocket of his jacket and tilts your face toward him, making you smile. "I spoke to Ryujin about bringing you to Paradise some time soon, if that's something you want."

Your smile widens and you do your best to hold your face as still as possible as you say, "I would love that."

"It will be good for you and Yoongi to be seen together in public more than once in a blue moon," he explains, then finishes his task while adding, "and, of course, we all miss you."

"I miss you, too," you say barely above a whisper.

Jimin uses water to fuss with your hair, which you opt not to perceive in the mirror, worried about the weathered, sad person you may find staring back at you. Then he leads you back to the bar for shots of something fruity and strawberry-flavored. He and Hwasa pull you to an empty dance cage, and the three of you lose yourselves to the music while multiple tiny piles of cocaine are introduced to your nose and simmer through your body.

It feels nice to let go and dance, to touch and be touched in friendly and flirtatious ways—to feel like, in this moment, you simply exist outside of the mafia families that surround you. It is only when you are panting and exhausted that the three of you leave the cage and seek out water.

You are tipsy and stumble a bit toward the bar. Taehyung and Jeongguk have returned—Taehyung appearing perfectly put together and Jeongguk looking like he has been to hell and back, shell-shocked with a wide stare and his hair an absolute mess—and you wink at them on your way to the bar.

As you wait for a glass of water, Yoongi's cologne tickles your senses and large hands begin to paw at you. "I was watching you dance," he says into your ear, voice low and whiskey-laced.

"Oh?" you ask, smiling but keeping your gaze ahead. The water is set before you, and you gulp it down, feeling the cold absorb into your body, giving you chills. When you turn to Yoongi, his jaw is set as if he is angry, but you know that it is a horny impatience that he masks.

"Darling," he groans, eyes bloodshot, drunk.

You attempt to bite back a smile, but it is impossible, and the sight of your glee seems to make him all the more impatient. Poor guy looks pained. You lean close, high on your toes to whisper, "Baby, I'm sore."

He groans and nods in pained understanding, making you giggle. "Next time I want you all to myself," he insists, and you nod. You would like that.

Namjoon, whose back had been to the two of you turns, notices Yoongi's expression and cocks his head. You let your eyes trail down and then back up as you say, "He has a problem that needs to be taken care of. Be a dear?"

"Ah," he says in understanding.

Namjoon leads Yoongi off toward the hallway—to the restroom or back downstairs, you imagine. You chuckle and turn back to the bar for another glass of whiskey as Taehyung sidles up to your right, taking Yoongi's place.

"How do you feel?" he asks, leaning close.

You scoff, making him cock his head. "Good," you say on a deep exhale, facing him. "And you?"

Taehyung grins, eyes sparkling. "Good."

"Good," you say, turning back to the bar. You manage to order another glass of the whiskey Yoongi has been drinking with your eyes ahead, but you can feel Taehyung's intense gaze on you.

"What?" you complain when a glass is in your hands. You turn toward him but look at the golden tiger on his lapel.

"Just thinking," he says. Annoying.

You lift your gaze to his, asking, "About what?"

Taehyung licks his lips and says, "You," giving you chills.

You find it hard to hold his intense stare and drop your eyes to his chest once more, taking a drink of whiskey.

"Just making sure you're actually doing well," he clarifies. "The scene in there was pretty intense."

"That it was," you say. You feel antsy, though you are not sure why. Could it be due to the way you were thinking about Taehyung while high? You wonder whether you might feel that way about him while sober.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" he asks, quieter.

Suddenly, you feel silly. You were not uncomfortable with Taehyung in the room with you before, and there is no reason you should be now.

"No," you say, looking him in the eye. "Sorry. You are right that it was intense, and I think I am still spiraling a little from it all."

"My presence there doesn't bother you?"

You open your mouth but hesitate, gaze falling to his mouth as you wonder what he might kiss like. "No," you say, swallowing your pride before continuing. "I like having you there."

"I'm glad," you watch his lips say. You feel silly for staring openly, but it is the first time you ever have. Taehyung really is beautiful, and his soft, semi-rectangular pout intrigues you almost as much as the cold psychopathy you occasionally glimpse in his eyes.

"It is strange?" you ask, looking up into his eyes. The expression you find is just as intense as it was earlier. "Watching, I mean."

Taehyung's eyes trail back and forth between yours. He appears to be gathering his thoughts. When he simply shakes his head and says nothing more, you lift your free hand to smack him on the arm. With a chuckle, he leans close.

"I like to share and watch, but otherwise not become more involved." You open your mouth and begin to ask why, but he cuts you off, leaning closer. "Nobody can handle my wrath quite like Jeongguk can. I am afraid fucking me is akin to having a near-death experience."

A gasp falls from your lips, in part because you know he is not joking, and because you are so curious to know more. You recall the way Jeongguk looked hanging from his wrists earlier, like a corpse waiting to be butchered. Taehyung chuckles in your ear, presses a soft kiss to your temple, and stands up straight.

"Trust me, it is an honor to be in audience of you, buttercup. You put on quite the show."

This makes you laugh, pushing all the tension out. You feel silly but relieved and step to the side, away from the bar enough to courtesy and say, "Thank you," winning a deep chuckle from Taehyung.

Yoongi and Namjoon return—Yoongi looking far better than he had before, and Namjoon with fresh reddened fingerprints around his neck. You lament missing whatever the two of them managed to do so fast but ultimately feel glad to have sorted out whatever it is you were feeling for Taehyung. It is a relief to keep at least some relationships semi-platonic, especially if being fucked by him means putting your safety and well-being at risk. You think that perhaps this revelation explains a lot about Jeongguk.

You lift your whiskey to your lips, but Yoongi swipes it from your hand, holding stern eye contact as he drinks the entire glass at once. A surge of petulance rises, outmatched only by how much you absolutely adore him with his long, wavy hair and sharp red scar. He makes a dramatic ahh sound as if he had just quenched his thirst with the purest water, then leans into you to set the empty glass onto the bar top.

"What—" you begin, hoping to ask what his problem is, or perhaps what the fuck he thinks he is doing, but he mutters, "Come with me," and takes you by the hand, leading you through the hall to the hallway and up into the VIP section, causing you to stumble in haste to keep up. It is vacant in this area, save for a security guard who nods as you pass, and you are pulled to a dark corner that does not look out over the dancefloor or any other space that another living human may be occupying.

Without saying a word, Yoongi pulls your legitimate engagement ring from his pocket—not the larger one meant for show—and lowers to one knee. Your stomach dips from the movement, and you suddenly feel unstable on your feet.

"I have a proposition for you," he says, taking your left hand and sliding the cold metal onto your ring finger. You stare at him, not quite ready to perceive the ring on your hand once more. Rather than respond, you simply stare at Yoongi, who licks his lips and glances up at you pleadingly.

"I could have a house built for you," he says as if it is nothing—as if simply willing a house into existence is as easy to him as loading bullets into a handgun. "Deep on the property, past the gardens and the other homes, where nobody could ever bother you. You can have all the space you desire, but still be close to us."

Tears build, and you feel bile rise to your throat. This offer is enormous and ridiculous, and there is simply no way you would feel wholly safe or comfortable living on the same plot of land as his mansion. You search for what to say, but words fail you. It feels impossible to tell Yoongi to his face that this offer is preposterous, yet you cannot bring yourself to even attempt to consider it.

He must read the concern on your face, and he sits up a little taller, gripping your hand between his two as if you are suddenly a lifeline that he must not let go of.

"I can buy you a house in Seoul. Or a penthouse, if you prefer an apartment. You can have a private entrance with my most trusted men guarding, and be a short drive away rather than a long one."

This offer is far more reasonable, but it still worries you. What if news gets out that Yoongi's fiancé is not only living separately from him but that they have managed to spot you coming and going? How difficult would it be for someone like Christian to find you?

"Yoongi, I don't know," you finally say. Your guts roil with uncertainty, and your heart pounds, making you feel nauseated.

Yoongi nods and smiles, but you can see that he is disappointed. Here before you, down on one knee, is a man who is not used to being told no. This is not how he anticipated this would go, and it is clear that is the case.

"Alright," he says, standing with your hand still tight between his. He pulls you close for a hug, and you hesitate before lifting your arms to return the embrace. "I am sorry if that was not the right thing to offer. I just thought—"

"No," you say, shaking your head and tilting your face into his neck. You press your lips to his skin. "It was a generous offer, Yoongi. An amazing one, really. I'm just…I don't know. I'm still really afraid."

Yoongi hugs you tighter, and you breathe deeply, eyes closed, silently existing in this moment. It is impossible not to imagine what life with him could be like under any other circumstance, especially now.

"I understand," he says, pulling back just far enough to rest his forehead against yours. "We can discuss it again if and when you are ready. I am in no rush, darling. Really. I just miss you." Yoongi kisses you softly and says, "I miss you so fucking much."

"I miss you too," you say, doing your best to smile through the tumult of emotion. "It's hell without you, Yoongi. I miss so much about being with you…but there have been so many moments that have had too negative of an impact on my mental health. I don't want this to be forever, though. And when I'm ready, we can talk about it some more. Really, it is such a kind offer, and I appreciate it more than I could ever say."

Yoongi's expression conveys a deep sadness the likes of which you have never seen. You wish more than anything that you could wave a magic wand and make everything normal. No more drugs, no more guns, no more fires or car crashes. The anxiety that fills you at the thought of watching him return to Seoul without you is similar to the anxiety you feel over staying in a hanok full of strangers in Busan whose intentions you are not completely sure you understand or trust.

You continue to hold one another for a moment longer, swaying slightly. Whether it is from the alcohol, or the music playing, or the simple enjoyment of the movement, you are uncertain, aware only that it is nice to be here with him like this.

"I fear we should head back to Seoul soon," Yoongi finally says.

Of course, the realization is somewhat soul-crushing. Just because you are in no rush to return to his mansion does not mean you want him to hurry back there, either.

"Tonight?" you ask, leaning back and cocking your head to the side. Yoongi raises his eyebrows, and you shrug. "I just thought maybe you would leave in the morning."

He appears to think it over. "I suppose I could stay for one night."

From one simple sentence, you feel elated. Falling asleep beside Yoongi is something you have come to deeply miss. Except…you frown.

"I'm not sure how I feel about sleeping under Ryujin's roof with you. Is that weird? Should I not care?"

Yoongi chuckles. He takes your hand and leads you back through the dark VIP area toward the rest of the party. "I have a penthouse nearby, darling."

"Of course, you do," you say with a playful hint of annoyance. Yoongi squeezes your hand, filling you with the same warmth and butterflies that you remember from months past.

"You can part from your girls for a night?" Yoongi teases as you enter the hallway.

You scoff. "Meaning, what?"

He leans close and says, "I see the way Hyejin looks at you. Or…what is it you call her…Hwasa? It really rolls off the tongue." Your mouth falls open, and you watch as his smile sharpens into a grin. "Sorry, is the thought of her name on your tongue making you flustered, darling?"

Heat rises to your cheeks, and you have to look away. As the two of you enter the main hall, you glance to the dance cage you were in earlier to find Hwasa and Jimin grinding in the way two platonic queer besties would. She certainly is dressed to impress with her bodice and skirt hugging each of her curves as if the material was cut specifically for her body. Yoongi chuckles darkly and squeezes your hand before letting it go, only to slide it around your waist and tug you close.

"I wouldn't mind, you know," he says so low that you are not quite sure you heard him. There are no lyrics to the music that plays, but it is loud enough to mask parts of his tone.

"Hmm?" you ask, turning to look at him.

"I wouldn't mind," he says, leaning to press a kiss to your lips. "If you wanted to fuck her."

"Oh, my god," you grumble, turning your face away as your cheeks go even hotter. Leave it to Yoongi to be able to have a serious conversation for precisely one brief moment before returning to his natural state of being a feral, horny monster.

Namjoon spots the two of you and begins to approach, eyes quickly darting down to the ring on your hand as a smile tugs at his lips.

"I am just saying," Yoongi continues, and you wish he would not, "no need to ask permission. The answer is already yes."

Namjoon leans to press a kiss to your lips, then looks between the two of you, asking, "Permission for what?"

You feel antsy and glance around, making sure nobody is around to hear Yoongi say, "For our darling to fuck Hyejin."

"Good god," Namjoon mutters under his breath. You roll your eyes as he adds, "Absolutely, no objections here."

You grumble, "You two are incorrigible," under your breath.

"Ah, Namjoon-ah," Yoongi says as he pulls you closer to his side. His fingertips play with the hem of your dress just below your left breast. "I am afraid I will have to miss tomorrow's activities. Our darling has asked me to stay with her tonight."

Namjoon's smile falters for such a split moment that it is nearly imperceptible. "Ah. No worries, baby. Seokjin and I can handle everything. And, did you ask her about…"

He trails off, but you know what he is hinting at, and a pang of sadness stabs you directly in the gut.

"I did," Yoongi responds with a sigh, "but she is not quite ready to return to Seoul."

Namjoon nods, taking in a deep breath. You nibble on your bottom lip searching for something to say to him, but nothing feels quite right. Promising for an uncertain future feels disingenuous, even if all you want in this moment is to give sweet Namjoon anything in this world he could want.

"I'm sorry," is all you can bring yourself to say.

Namjoon shakes his head. His gaze is soft and slightly sad, but so loving. "Will you at least keep the jewelry? And the clothing?" His lips falter, and he glances down at his shoes. "I know they're just material things, but it felt so strange to see it all left behind. You didn't regret receiving any of it, did you?"

You feel a horrible guilt as Namjoon's gaze lifts to meet yours. How you could have possibly made him think your gifts were not good enough—that you may have regretted them somehow—has you wishing you had never left anything behind. Shaking your head, you step forward, wrap your arms around Namjoon's ribs, and press your face against his chest, listening to his quick, worried heartbeat.

"Nothing about that night went as planned," you say, squeezing him as tight as you can manage. Namjoon's arms lift and engulf you with warmth. "I'm so sorry I made you feel that way. I absolutely love the gifts, especially the jewelry."

You loosen the hug and take a step back, holding Namjoon's gaze. It is devastating how handsome he is with tears glistening in his eyes.

"If I'm being honest…" you begin, taking a deep breath. "I left the items because I wasn't sure whether you two would be upset with me. After all, I snuck away. I thought…I suppose I thought I wouldn't be worthy of keeping what had been given to me, and so I left it all behind. I felt guilty at the thought of taking any of it, knowing what I would be doing to you."

Namjoon nods in understanding and then pulls you closer. Yoongi follows, sandwiching you between warm bodies that feel and smell like home. You breathe slow and deep, smiling through the exhaustion that engulfs you; you hate to admit that you will not last much longer on your feet. With the promise of visiting Jimin and the others at Paradise soon, you feel a little lighter; a little more willing to part for now.

Bodies begin to file out as you and your family men crowd the bar for shots. Ryujin and her core group of girls join in, and you all toast and drink, one after another after another until your body is dizzy and heavy and begging to lie down. You hug the women good night, feeling eyes on you as Hwasa wraps her arms around you with a pout. She takes a step back and whines that she will miss you tonight. When you turn to face the men, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jeongguk all wear curiously devious expressions.

As you hug Jimin goodbye, he takes a step back to speak but then eyes your dress and boots, and his expression brightens. "Hold on," he says, "this is the outfit you were wearing the day we all met."

You smile widely and nod, impressed that someone has recognized the outfit. Yoongi steps forward and hums a questioning sound.

"This outfit," Jimin says, "she was wearing it the first time we saw our buttercup."

Yoongi cocks his head to the side and frowns. "The first time?" he asks.

A moment passes that is brief and confusing. The two share a glance, Jimin with his eyebrows raised, and then Yoongi clears his throat, licks his lips, and says, "Of course. Sorry, darling, the alcohol must have gone straight to my head. I remember now. You were so adorably angry in this dress."

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to be an utter brat. "You forgot what I was wearing the day you spirited me away…not very chauvinistic of you."

Yoongi smiles and chuckles, but there is something in his thoughtful expression that makes you uncomfortable, especially with how Jimin is looking at him as if he has said something unforgivably wrong. That had been the first time they saw you…right? Paranoia rears its ugly head, and you do your best not to allow yourself to travel down roads you have no business visiting. Especially after how emotionally fraught this night has been. After all, Christian had been working for him, so perhaps Yoongi saw you in passing once or twice before. Anything is possible.

As you continue to wish everyone a good night, it sinks in that you are soon returning to your life free of the men you love, and sadness settles deep within you. But first, you will spend a night with Yoongi in his penthouse on the ocean and you do your best to be in the present moment and not wallow in what is to come.

Namjoon follows behind in his own car and joins the two of you for a glass of water and a soft, slow makeout session on the couch overlooking the dark sea. He treats you to several blissful orgasms using his skilled lips, teeth, and fingers, and you watch as he and Yoongi take turns cuming in each other's mouths after you regretfully whine that your holes are too sore to accommodate them anymore for the night.

Namjoon slips away with deep promises and soft kisses as you begin to fall fast asleep wrapped around Yoongi's body. You drift off thinking about how warm and solid he is; how your body slots beside his as if the two of you are built for one another. But there is a part of you that also wonders what outfit had been on Yoongi's mind when he was imagining the first time he ever saw you. Were you in that black dress or something else entirely? Had that time at the river been the first time he laid eyes on you, or were there other times? Secret times when you had no idea of his existence. How long might he have been watching you? Of course, you know this line of thinking is ridiculous, and you smile as you bury your nose into his skin and inhale the sweet, musky scent of him.

You drift deeply, swiftly, remembering what home feels like.

i drive fast, wind in my hair i push it to the limit 'cause i just don't care

i've got a burning desire for you, baby

🎵 visit the playlist

❗❗❗ important authors note: as mentioned previously, i am basically condensing everything that was going to be a 20 chapter fic into the last two chapters and the next 6ish chapters. i think you will understand why i chose to do it this way. something to keep in mind: all major warnings are already listed. things in future chapters might seem really, really fucking bad. please trust the author and the tags and don't let me lose you on this ride because i am intentionally going to be vague and non-descript about certain plot points outside of the narrative. i don't like to give things away, which means we might become traumatized together. from this point on, the story is going to shift in a big way. i love you. thank you for reading.

happy new year, my dears! if you observed holidays, i hope they have been good. i hope you have a lovely lunar new year & eat the best foods! if you're on break from class, i hope you get a lot of rest. i got all As last semester, and i bet you also did an amazing job at whatever you got into. i miss you very, very much and i hope to be back soon. 💜

EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU IS THE WIND BENEATH MY WINGS!!! REBLOGS ARE IMPORTANT BLAHBLAHBLAH LIKES ARE ALSO AMAZING AND SO ON. 💜 tags will be coming in reblogs. also, character asks are always active if you have some burning questions or comments (just don't expect me to outright spoil anything hehehe.)

😘😘😘

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#yoongi mafia #namjoon mafia #bts mafia #yoongi smut #namjoon smut #jungkook smut #bts smut #yoongi angst #namjoon angst #bts angst #bts poly #fic: collateral

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k3nz1ekorn · 2 days ago

Text

Never be Easy

This was beta read by my AMAZING friend @/kalei__co over on Ao3 and I'm thrilled about how it turned out!! Character cheat sheet: Viktor-Vladimir/Vlad, Jayce-Joel, Vi-Viola, Cait-Cathrin/Cat, Mel-Miah, Savannah- Sevika, Sky- Skyler, Powder/Jinx-Piper/Hexa, Ekko-Elijah

Summary: After weeks of avoiding each other, Vlad and Joel are forced to confront their own idiocy. With intervention of course.

Part 5 in the actor au, part 1 below and masterlist pinned on profile!

Vlad hadn’t looked up from his script since he sat down.

The last few weeks had been tense on set, and that was putting it lightly. Ever since that stupid night at the karaoke bar, Joel had been avoiding him like the plague. It was as if the last months had never happened in the first place. Hell, it was as if they’d never met before. It felt as if he were a stranger in his own body when Joel was around; there were no more fleeting glances, no brushing hands at the snack tables. It was as if he had been yanked out of his existence and thrown into some alternate timeline where he and Joel were strangers.

He could have cried if he wasn’t so intensely and irrevocably angry about it all.

It wasn’t as if Vlad hadn’t been trying to get Joel to talk to him. He felt like he’d tried everything under the sun at this point!

Well, within reason of course.

He’d asked to run lines. Joel was ‘too busy’.

He asked to chat over lunch. Joel ‘wasn’t hungry’.

The worst had been when he’d flat out tried to get Joel’s attention on set last week. The man had not only not spoken to him, but when he’d touched his shoulder he flinched. Flinched! And not a small one, either; it had been one of those full body flinches. As if the mere thought of being touched by Vlad was somehow unthinkable, as if he’d been burnt. And his eyes?

Vlad’s shoulders tensed just a bit more as he thought about the way Joel’s eyes had looked at him that day.

There was so much behind them that Vlad wasn’t sure he could name all the emotions. He probably couldn’t have even if he tried! He’d seen some the night at the bar; the pain, confusion, and fear. But there was something unfamiliar, something he’d never seen from the other, and gods he wished to never see it again.

That catches us up pretty well.

He’d resigned himself to letting it all go. To not try and touch him again, not speak to him, not even look at him if he could help it. He’d give everything and anything to never have to see that look in those beautiful golden eyes again. So he had to give up on his stupid little crush, on this infatuation.

On his love. Because of course Vlad was in love with him.

A gentle chime brought him out of his troubled thoughts, and he shifted to reach for his phone in the side pocket of his chair. He was careful not to jostle anything lest he knock over his carefully balanced cane.

On his screen was a simple text from Miah.

‘come by my trailer before you leave, I need advice on a date with Savannah.’

It brought a small smile onto Vlad’s otherwise sad face.

At least his friends’ romantic lives all seemed to be going well. Viola and Cat were about to move in together, Miah and Savannah appeared to be so infatuated with each other that he’d bet they’d end up married a few years from now. He’d even heard the magazines reporting about Piper (Hexa to the media, stage names and all that) and Elijah, two of the show's most promising rising stars, being spotted here and there in neighboring cities.

They all seemed so happy, so content.

How he wished for that with Joel.

He sent a quick reply to Miah, confirming he would come by, but he may not be the best person to ask for advice on the matter. He’d fucked up his own love life enough without even knowing how; he wasn’t going to fuck hers up too by letting her take his half thought out advice.

The bell was heard from the nearby set and his eyes glanced to the familiar setting of ‘Zaun,’ more specifically to the two actors occupying the corners of it. They had just finished filming a fight scene; Joel’s character kills a child and has some major revelations about morality and mortality. A pivotal moment for Jayce, he thought.

Vlad had been asked to stay behind for the last few scenes, just in case they decided to reshoot a big scene where his character accidentally kills their assistant. He doubts they would reshoot it now, with the sun setting overhead and time ticking far past when filming should have stopped for the day. If they were to redo it, it would have to wait until tomorrow.

As he looked over the set, gold met Vlad’s vision. He froze, unable to look away as his brain was screaming at him to, unable to even breathe properly. It felt like an eternity, time seeming to stop all together and leave just them.

It didn’t last, of course; why would it?

After what was probably not even a full four seconds, the eyes were ripped away from his, and he came back to reality. To the reality that Joel did not care for him, that his affections were not reciprocated, that, in fact, he was seemingly despised by the other man.

Vlad’s shoulders dropped. Letting out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding, he let his hand wander to grip his cane. He had to go get cleaned up and change before meeting Miah; he was covered in makeup at the moment and had barely any clothing on.

He slid off his chair and pulled his blanket tighter around him, letting it hang around his shoulders for a minute as he gathered his belongings into his bag. Phone, script, water. Then he was set to go.

Vlad stopped himself from looking back at the set as he turned to depart, not wanting to see those eyes anymore. His gaze was kept low towards the ground while he walked to the makeup and prosthetics tent. He was dying to get all the rigid collodion and paint off, but most importantly, he was ready to get these god awful contacts out.

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Vlad approached the area where Miah’s trailer was located; the skies had grown nearly dark by the time he had gotten all his makeup off. His body was stiff and tired, and he just wanted to get this over with so he could go home to his new cat, Rio.

He’d gotten her pretty recently, although it was more like she’d decided Vlad was her new human. Since the decision was finalized, he found himself a bit more eager to get home again after a long day. Especially recently, and most certainly when his leg and back were acting up as they seemed to be today.

When the trailer came into view, he wasn’t shocked to see his dear friend standing outside of it. However, he was a bit curious as to why she seemed to be waiting so impatiently. Her foot was anxiously tapping on asphalt below them, arms crossed and a tense expression on her usually serene face.

It was obvious Miah had been waiting for him; why she seemed so worked up about it was a mystery to him, though.

He brought his hand up in greeting, and as he was about to open his mouth to call out, she seemed to spot him. She all but charged him, taking unusually large steps to get over as fast as she could.

“Vlad, thank god,” Miah started, out of breath, ”I lost my phone like an hour ago. I need to call Savannah! She’s at my apartment, and I need to tell her I’ll be late getting home.”

A hand was placed on his shoulder as she reached him. She seemed… frantic, dishevelled even. That was even curiouser. Miah was overly meticulous; he couldn’t seem to remember a time she’d lost something even remotely important, least of all lost her cool over misplacing something like this. First time for everything, he guessed, but it did make sense why she was so irate about it. People do tend to be frantic in unfamiliar situations.

“Ah, I suppose you can use mine, then.” Vlad switched his cane to his other hand and shifted to grab his phone from his front pocket, handing it over to her. She took it with her unoccupied hand and mumbled a thanks before sidestepping to gesture over to her trailer.

“I already brought out the ramp before you got here, I have some coffee inside you can sip on while you wait for me, yeah?”

Vlad gave a smile and let her lead him; with how overstimulating the day had been, it would be heaven to sit down and enjoy some coffee. Miah always seemed to know what he needed before he could ask for it. She was observant, after all, and on the harder days, it was appreciated to a degree he hadn’t yet been able to articulate.

“Coffee at nearly dark? Music to my ears, my dear. Though if you plan to have any, you better make the call quick,” Vlad teased.

Miah opened the door with a light laugh and gave him an inquisitive smile he couldn’t quite decipher. He held the railing as he made his way up the slope and into the vehicle. He had been facing her as he passed by her, and he only turned to the interior once he was fully inside.

“After the day I’ve had, I could drink a whole pot--”

All the air left Vlad’s lungs, his shoes turning to lead when golden orbs made contact with a matching pair on the far side of the trailer. The shock of it cut off his words before he could finish his sentence. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest. A strangled noise left his mouth before he was able to snap it closed, hand tightening around his cane. He was just barely able to steady himself before he could process the door closing behind him.

The sound brought him out of his trance, and he made an almost squawk as he tried the knob in vain. He unlocked it from the inside, going to try again but was met with an immovable force on the other side of the door.

Miah had blocked them in.

“Miah, open the door, this isn’t funny!”

Vlad’s hand formed a fist as he brought it up from the knob and began to knock from his side of the door. He chanced a look over at Joel, who seemed to be in a similar state of distress further inside the room. The blinds had been pulled up from the bottom and he was leaning over the back of the couch to find the woman in question out the window.

Joel seemed to find her, judging by the anger that overtook his face, and instantly he was fumbling with the switch on the frame to pull open the slider.

“Ha ha, joke’s over, dude. Move that fucking thing away from the door!” Joel yelled out. “Miah, I'm serious! What even is this? What are you trying to do right now?”

The frustration was evident in Joel’s voice, and oh boy, could Vlad relate right now. This was ridiculous. He said as much to himself as he also began to move towards the window, grumbling under his breath as he limped over to get a look at the culprit of their current predicament. Another set of eyes stole glances as he made his way over, but he was too distracted to notice this, of course.

As Miah came into his view through the thin screen, Vlad noticed her holding up two phones, one in either hand. He immediately recognized them both; one was his own, the one he’d just given his friend before she locked them in here. The other belonged to the second occupant of the RV. They couldn’t even call for someone to come let them out!

Ignoring the pain in his leg, Vlad leaned his good leg onto the couch to slam his palm over the wall of the trailer, letting out a little grunt at the force of it. Joel’s question from a moment ago rung out in his head then. What exactly was Miah’s end goal here? What was she trying to do, besides absolutely and totally humiliate him in front of the one person on this planet he was totally head over heels for.

“You two need to get it the fuck together.”

What did she just say?

“It’s been weeks of this absolute bullshit you two have been on, and I cannot keep doing this! None of us can!” Miah continued on with her tirade, arms flying around to accentuate her words. “I’ll be back in a few hours. You have plenty of food and water, and I brought some of your stuff from my place in case you have any kind of pain flare ups, Vlad.”

She slid both phones into her bag.

“If there’s an emergency, just bust out the front window; otherwise, please leave my trailer intact.”

Miah made a move to walk away; however, there was a pause in her movements, and they were all met with a moment of tense silence before she looked back up at them, eyes flicking between the two men.

“Just talk,” she finally said, her tone exhausted. “Talk about anything, but please figure out where things went wrong, and where they’re going from here, for everyone else’s sake if not your own.”

With that she walked away, actively ignoring the distressed pleas coming from the trailer now behind her.

Vlad continued to try and call out for a few moments after she disappeared from view, but they both knew it was no use. She was a woman of her word after all, and they would absolutely be stuck here for however many more hours until she decided it was time to free them.

Vlad heard a gruff sigh from beside him, and he let his eyes wander over to the other man, who had sat back against the couch now.

Joel’s head was leant back against the window with his arm thrown over top of his eyes. With the way his sweater was hugging his arms and chest, Vlad was nearly brought right back to that night. The before of it all, when he had been able to touch and joke with the other freely, when there was no possibility of the other lashing out at him.

The thought of it now only made Vlad angry, because why exactly was he being punished for this? Why was he being locked up like this after such a tiring day, when he wasn’t even the one with the problem? Why was he being blamed for having his heart ripped out of his chest every waking second of the last two fucking weeks?

Vlad was sure his face betrayed his emotions by now, and he quickly turned to face the opposite direction. Getting off the couch, he moved into the small kitchen across from them to get some coffee. He could feel eyes on his back as he moved, but he actively avoided the little part of his brain telling him to turn around and face the other. He had spent weeks trying to get a word out of this man; he wasn’t about to be the first one to talk between the two of them today.

He bent down a bit to gather the coffee grounds and filters from where he knew they were stored and felt a twinge in his back. With a pained groan, he gripped onto the counter for extra stability with his free hand, head falling forward and eyes squeezing shut for a moment to collect himself before working up the motivation to try again.

A hand on his lower back then made him still, feeling his whole body freeze. It made his eyes shoot open, still doubled over, and he felt his breathing stutter ever so slightly.

“You should sit. I’ll get the coffee started.”

Oh…

Oh how he’d missed that voice.

Vlad straightened up just a bit and turned towards the voice, swatting away the arm that had been placed on him. That same anger that he had been trying to quell shot back through him with a terrifying new force, and venom laced his voice as he spoke.

“I do not need your help. I can make a damn pot of coffee on my own.”

“I know you can,” Joel said, holding his hands up almost in surrender, “but for how much coffee you drink you can never seem to make a decent drip. Let me.”

The words held an air of familiarity to them, one Vlad would have probably found amusing just a month ago. Now they just left a bitter feeling in his chest, even if he was right. Vlad was horrible at making drip coffee; he always messed it up in one way or another despite how simple the task was. Unfortunately for him, the only person in the world that seemed to know this was the man standing next to him.

Vlad sucked his teeth and let out a scoff as he rolled his eyes, but he turned back to the couch in a silent show of defeat. It was only a short distance to move before he was able to sit down on the semi-comfortable fabric, but he felt those same eyes on him the whole time. He kept his eyes to the floor even as he crossed his arms in annoyance.

“The first words you willingly speak to me in weeks and you insult me? Really?”

He spoke with a venom he was sure the other had never heard from him before. But you couldn’t blame him here, not really, at least.

“Well it’s true. You can’t. I’m not gonna lie to you.”

“No, you’ll just completely avoid me, right? Cut yourself off from me in any way you can?” Vlad felt his anger bubbling over, letting his words spew out without an ounce of forethought, but he was hurt. He should be allowed to speak his mind once in a while. “I can’t make a fucking pot of coffee, and all of a sudden, you’re at my side ready to breathe down my neck about it? When you couldn’t even be bothered to return my texts? My calls? I don’t fucking understand you, you know that?”

At that, Joel spun around, that same anger in his eyes that Vlad had been trying to avoid all week he now reveled in.

“You don’t understand me?” Joel asked in an almost mocking tone.

“NO, Joel, I do not!”

The man in question brought his hand up to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose in agitation. He was still hiding it.

Whatever Vlad had done to upset him was still tucked away behind walls and emotions that under any other circumstance, Vlad would have run from. But being here? Being stuck together like this? It all made Vlad realize just how much he genuinely missed every aspect of the other. Even now, when he’s angry and on the brink of yelling, he missed him. That was probably why he allowed himself to keep talking.

“I don’t understand what I’ve done to make you hate me so much!” Vlad moved to stand up again, but he stumbled. Immediately Joel was there, helping him up. This made him pause, anger diffusing for a moment to let confusion take its place.

Vlad let the other help him to a standing position, keeping his eyes to the floor as he tried to process the change in tone, in position, and got just a bit lost in the second physical contact he��d had with the other in far too long.

When he was finally at a stable standing position, he took note of how Joel’s hands lingered on him longer than necessary. He cleared his throat a bit, observing the way Joel seemed to jump back, retreating to the other side of the room and the still empty coffee pot, head hung low and gaze locked on the floor.

Now this was curious. Two touches in the span of maybe a few minutes, when he’d previously been ever so eager to avoid anything and everything to do with being near Vlad.

“I don’t hate you.”

Oh?

“I just…what happened at the karaoke bar was embarrassing. I shouldn’t have confessed in such a public place…”

Huh?

“I was drunk, and it was stupid, and I wish I could just go back to normal. But I really just needed time to process your rejection.”

His what?

Vlad was truly confused now, shock and uncertainty crawling across his face.

“I figured when we came back to work, you’d give me some space? But you kept trying to talk to me, and the anger just kept coming back, because it was just so…suffocating, you know?” Joel leaned back against the counter, gripping the edges until his knuckles turned white. “Being open like that, working up the courage to confess and being shot down, especially in front of so many people-”

Before Joel could keep babbling, Vlad interrupted by saying, “Confess what?” He had barely registered moving across the small space, but here he was, face to face with Joel, and very quickly putting pieces together about their current situation.

“What do you mean ‘confess what’, V?” The annoyance in Joel’s voice was back now, lined with what could only be sadness and a hint of confusion even as the nickname left him with startling ease. “Please don’t play dumb with me here… My song? The one I sang to you at the bar?”

They stared at each other for a moment. Brows furrowed, Vlad lips opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. The fucking song? The song he hadn’t fucking translated in the last two weeks because he didn’t think it would matter? The one Viola and Miah had been trying to talk about with him for-

Fucking Gods above, he was an idiot.

Vlad ran a hand through his unruly hair and let out a sharp sarcastic laugh. Then another, and another, until he was almost painfully doubled over in a full fit of laughter, tears streaming down his cheeks. He really couldn’t believe this.

“You don’t need to laugh at me, I know it was stupid! There’s no need to be cruel about it.”

“No no, Joel, you misunderstand-” He could barely get out his words through the laughter.

“I understand perfectly. This is exactly why I didn’t want to have this conversation before I was over you, fuck!”

“Joel-”

“You can be so mean sometimes, you know that?” Joel’s hand was pinching his nose again, a habit Vlad had come to adore.

“Would you please just-”

“I put my heart on the line like that, like this and-”

Vlad took another step to close the distance between the two, the hand not holding his cane coming up to cup Joel’s cheek. His 5 o’clock shadow left pinpricks against Vlad’s palm when his jaw clamped shut under it. Their eyes found each other, and Vlad couldn’t help the watery smile that spread across his face.

“I do not speak Spanish, Joel.”

He could see so many distinct emotions across the other’s face as Joel processed what had been said. The confused look he’d previously been sporting grew exponentially, staying for only a few seconds before being replaced with a look of pure wonder, of hope.

“Oh…”

“I had absolutely no idea what you were saying on that stage, just that you sounded lovely.” His eyes were soft as he spoke. “Why did you think I spoke Spanish?”

“I asked Viola months ago about it! She told me very clearly that you spoke Spanish.”

Vlad pulls back a few centimeters, and his face drops into a completely blank stare.

“You asked Viola.”

“Yes.”

“And didn’t double check with anyone else? Not my assistant, not Miah?”

“I didn’t think I needed to!”

At that, Vlad pulled back all the way with an exasperated sigh and an eye roll, finding his way back to the couch for the second time. He should have expected Joel would shadow him as he made his way back with how touchy he was, especially now after weeks of no contact.

“Did you ask her this before or after you both missed call time for an arm wrestling contest? Because if it was the latter, I fear the lesson you need to learn cannot be taught.”

“Not the point! You didn’t know I liked you?”

Vlad was finally seated as he looked back up at the other with the same unimpressed face.

“I thought I’d made that quite obvious, no? Had I known I would have said something very different when you had gotten off that stage.”

Of course he would have, and now the reaction he’d received after complimenting Joel’s singing made all the more sense to him. ‘That’s it?’ he’d said, and while Vlad may not have understood then, he did now. Because no, that was not it; there was so much more he could have said.

“Well…” Joel cut himself off to look at Vlad with that same look of wonder he’d given earlier. “...What would you have said?”

“That I reciprocate.”

They held eye contact, and Joel let out a breath the other hadn’t even realized he’d been holding.

“I would have asked you out on a date, which we would have already gone on by now, and I would have kissed you.”

Joel seemed to melt at his words, shoulders drooping, eyelids coming down to partially cover the beautiful gold Vlad was finally able to enjoy again.

“I would have told you that was a stupid way to confess, as I am now.” Vlad held his gaze and Joel knelt before him. He could practically feel his heart beating in his throat when a hand was placed over his good knee. “I would have-”

Vlad’s next words were cut off as a pair of lips softly met his own. They were chapped, he noted, no doubt from how often the man seemed to bite them, a habit he’d noticed days into their friendship. They broke apart for a moment, just to look at one another, eyes filled with all the emotions that were still left unspoken.

Vlad let his eyes travel down to Joel’s mouth and then dove back in for more. The other let out a surprised noise, but it only took him a moment to find his bearings before he reciprocated the kiss, allowing all his pent up thoughts and desires to bleed into it. Vlad sighed happily, tilting his head to the side in an effort to get closer, to deepen the kiss, to show exactly how much he’d been wanting this too, waiting for it.

He leaned his cane against the couch and brought both hands up to the sides of Joel’s face, to pull him in just a bit, before one slid to cup the back of his neck. The other slipped into his product filled hair. He felt a hand on his own cheek then, a thumb brushing along the mole under his eye, and the hand that had previously been on his knee slid up to his waist. He felt Joel shift to stand and chased after his lips as they parted, making a displeased noise and letting his hands tighten to keep their hold on the other to stop him from going too far.

“I was not done,” he said with a playful lilt in his voice, putting on a slight pout.

Joel let out an airy laugh and sat beside him on the couch, their hands staying on each other’s faces.

“I know.”

They leant back in.

````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

They had spent the last hour just talking, and kissing a bit of course, just setting things straight and making sure they finally, finally were on the same page as one another. Joel had fallen asleep with his head in Vlad’s lap not too long ago, and he stroked his fingers through his hair as he reminisced over their last conversation.

“I speak Swedish Joel; Swedish, Czech, French, and English.”

“So you mean to tell me everyone I knew in that room except for you spoke Spanish? I told every person in the room ALL THAT except for the one person it was meant for?”

“Yes, I believe you did.”

Vlad let out a soft chuckle to himself at the recent memory. They’d agreed on a date tomorrow night; Joel would cook dinner for them at Vlad’s apartment so he could recover from today at home while also not having to wait for their first date. Vlad also had a few more plans for the evening that he would bring up later on, of course, but until then he was content with the notion that, yes, Joel did still care for him.

“You didn’t even google the song? Like at all?”

“I was going through a lot, what can I say? At least I attempted to have a conversation about it. You practically fell off the edge of that one bridge set to get away when you saw me last week.”

“Have you seen yourself in that uniform, V?? I couldn’t handle seeing you in that any more than absolutely necessary until I could get my emotions under control.”

“Are they under control now, then?”

“Absolutely not, my heart’s been beating out of my chest since I kissed you.”

“Hm…I make you that nervous, then?” He had leaned his face in until they were almost touching again.

“You’re a menace, Vladimir…a very beautiful hot menace.”

His thoughts were interrupted as the door to the trailer finally opened up. His eyes drifted to the entrance as a head of pinned up butterfly locs came into view and familiar eyes peeked in.

“Oh good, you made up! Please tell me you didn’t fuck in my trailer.”

He let out a bark of laughter at her as Miah came fully into view and leaned back onto the kitchen counter.

“You’re in luck, we did not.” A sigh of relief. “However, if you ever do something like this again, the odds may tilt out of your favor.”

Miah let out a slight laugh and nodded at him, her eyes falling to the head on his lap.

“I promise you, if I’d seen any other option I wouldn’t have gone this route,” she assured him. “You two are just so stubborn! We’ve all been trying to tell you to get together, since… literally since the first day on set actually, and you both just kept dancing in circles.”

Miah looked like she wanted to throw her hands up in exasperation.

“I told you to look up the song.”

Oh god, he thought, she was about to start making another list.

Vlad groaned and threw his head back against the window as he watched her lift a singular finger in the air from the corner of his vision.

“I also told you to ask him out several times over the last two months alone.” A second finger. “And I also told him-” All three fingers now waved down at Joel, still calmly asleep in his lap, “-to talk to you! We all tried our best to get the ball rolling here, but ya’ll just can’t make things easy, can you?”

Vlad glanced down at his partner with a smile.

No. They couldn’t, could they?

#arcane #imagine #ship #jayvik #alternate universe #arcane actor au #jayce talis #jayce talis arcane #jayce x viktor #jayvik actor au #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #mel medarda #viktor league of legends #lol #leauge of legends

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blackpaintedeyes · 7 months ago

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should probably make a first post huh?

my names gerry, im in my late 20s and im transmasc, he/they/it pronouns

i like music and always take recommendations, i like classic goth and alternative, some new wave shit, really whatever has a decent sound to it

sometimes i paint

i like collecting weird shit, but sometimes it wigs me out too much and i usually pawn it off, sometimes destroy it, depends on how i feel about it

leave me alone if youre a kid, yeah? and i dont really partake or give a shit about drama, leave me out of it and we won't have an issue

ask box and messages are completely open, following me or im following you or not, i'm always down to talk to new people.

and if you think im cool and want people to know about me, first you're definitely weird, second you can just reblog this post right here

#i just moved and everything's pretty unfamiliar #at least the internet is here #Another Archive #ooc:that tag is specific to this universe #ooc: it can be used by anyone and used to find other posts specific to this universe. it can also be used to blacklist #ooc: so that you dont get roleplay posts in your fandom tag if you dont want to see them #the magnus archives #magpod #gerard keay #gerry keay #tma #tma podcast

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quirkle2 · 4 months ago

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as a huge spyro year of the dragon fan i Hate the reignited trilogy they took all the charm and nostalgia out of it BUT ... spyro's walking/running animation ? they perfected that.

#qktalks #world's most satisfying animation i could watch him hop around like that for hours. he's so ........ noodle-like #but they also took away his slow wing-flap animation from the original #like the one that's used when he's just standing there. he flaps his wings out very slowly in a constant rhythm #they took that away too. garbage game 0/10 /silly #they also made hunter .......so fucking ugly ?? whyd they do that to him . he didn't deserve this #for people unfamiliar with spyro look up spyro 3 original hunter vs reignited hunter you'll wanna vomit #idk i feel like reignited just didn't need to be made ?#a port of the original woulda been fucking BOMB. im of the opinion that old games don't Need to be remade #they just need to be ported/remastered or Whatever. and maybe tinkered with a Little if some aspect of the game was horrid for any reason #but also im of the opinion that u CAN do a good remake. if ur careful.#i don't think spyro needed all those graphic upgrades or that cartoonish realism #yeah the environments r pretty and they did a fine job w that i don't have an issue with the environments i have an issue w the characters #overall i think ?? bianca was done pretty well. she looks similar enough in face-shape to 3's original design #can't rly pinpoint anything in particular that's strange abt her. maybe her eyes? but idk what they coulda done differently #the sorceress is fine ... i kinda wish they made her head a little wider and kept the gradual change in scale color intact but #she's okay too #the fairies look bad<33333 #spyro himself .... he looks okay ?#there's something Different about his face shape i kinda wish they'd kept everything a bit .... smaller? idk how to describe it #but it doesn't bother me that much i think they did a good job. lord knows they did better than skylanders .............#i also have an issue with the animations in general #idk how to explain it but the Way the characters move ............. it irks me #it's just so unnatural ? how they move and gesture when they talk? it's not Bad Animation it looks rly good graphically speaking #but idk. this isn't a spyro thing in particular it's just that animation style that i dislike #playing reignited just makes me sad. playing the original comforts me. playing reignited makes me sad that im not playing the original #u can remake an old game made of approximately 18 polygons and make it look good AND make it look like the original #u just have to be careful about the geometry and the level of detail and the eye shapes

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stunie · 7 months ago

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“NEEDIN’ A RIDE REAL, REAL BAD!!”

HAIKYUU + THIGH RIDING ᯓ⭑ ft. bokuto koutarou, daichi sawamura, kuroo tetsurou, miya atsumu, sakusa kiyoomi, & ushijima wakatoshi x f!reader

contains : explicit smut (18+), thigh riding / dry humping, phone call (keep quiet n ride!), risky sex / very mild: cw exhibitionism, squirting, teasing, praise, kissing <3, hair pulling (you to them), orgasm denial, usage of pet names — 2.9K WC

note : yayya my first haikyuu post on here ! this is my response to this thirst here ૮꒰˶˃ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა hope u all have fun reading this <3

KUROO TETSUROU.

“Whoa whoa,” Kuroo coos through a breathy chuckle, big hand wrapping around your hip to hold you still against his thigh. “Easy now, pretty thing. Let’s pause for a second, okay?”

The sound of your protests and whines almost make him cave right off the bat. “…Tetsu..” you sulk, corners of your lips curling into a sad pout even when he gives you an apologetic smile before he’s jutting his thumb to gesture at his phone, the irritating melody of his ringtone repeating itself as the screen lights up, “Incoming call from: Kenma!” displayed across the top.

“Sorryy,” he huffs. “Can’t. This one’s important.”

He’s giving you a reassuring squeeze around your hip, a silent reminder that he’ll give you everything you need in a few minutes, but you’re not having any of that. Your arms come to stubbornly wrap around his neck before he can pick up the call, sugar sweet voice already making pleas only a second later.

On any other given day, you would have let him take the call with only an irritated huff— just not today. Not with the way you can already feel your orgasm running away from you. “P-please, please Tetsu,” you sob, “I was so close. Can’t wait any longer.. please?”

His eyes are widening a bit at the unfamiliar desperation in your voice, grunt slipping out when his cock reacts to it too, twitching and slapping against his stomach— a reoccurring habit that seems to only occur whenever you give him that needy little look of yours.

“Awww,” he whispers, and you barely catch the strain in his voice. “Well I’m sorry for ruining your moment, angel.”

You’re practically purring as soon as you feel his hand come to lightly cup your jaw, immediately melting into his touch as he smiles in response. “Ah— fine,” Kuroo caves as soon as he sees your hands coming to cutely hold his wrist in place. “Guess i can’t stop you if you need it so bad. But listen here..”

His thumb moves from your jaw, digit pressing into your bottom lip to angle your face at him. The look you’re giving him is just to die for, pouty lips soft against his thumb and you’re peering up at him through those pleady eyes— as if there was even a single chance that Kuroo would ever deny his pretty girl of an orgasm in the first place.

“Nothing crazy. Deal? Kenma hears and..” he presses a little harder into your lip, watching the way your tongue comes to swipe at the invasive finger. “Me and you? Are never hearing the end of it.”

You’re swiftly nodding as soon as the words register, hands coming to rest on the muscles of his shoulders as you resume your movement the next second, gasping at the way your clit catches against his thigh. “Kenma?” You hear him hum, tucking his phone between his cheek and shoulder— quick and casual.

Maybe too casual.

“Mmm,” his eyes flicker back towards you when you take in a sharp inhale. “So it’s about that. You sure you don’t wanna meet up to go over it?”

A loud gasp slips out from you when he abruptly grabs you by your waist, and your hands slam over your mouth, Kuroo tensing beneath you. “…Hm? Yeah, I’m listening.” He chuckles, regaining his composure in an instant as he starts to rock you back and forth against his leg— and fast.

The roughness has your face contorting, nails digging deep into his shoulders as you try and resist the strong hands guiding you back and forth— try and slow him down a bit, delay your oncoming orgasm by even second if anything at all. You hadn’t expected it to come back so fast, and.. you both knew good and well that you weren’t gonna be able to stay quiet.

You give him a look, something resembling your best attempt at a glare, but he’s ignoring it— casually chatting with kenma about something you can’t quite catch. You’re only left to bite your lip, eyebrows deeply furrowed as you desperately fight the knot tightening inside your belly, thighs clamping against his own as he flexes his quad straight into you.

“Oh,” Kuroo says, hand leaving your waist to pick up his phone again, finger hovering over the ‘mute’ button, and your body is falling limp onto his chest, hands balancing yourself on him as you peer up at him through tired eyes and a heavy pant. “Actually..”

“..Looks like I got a bit of a problem to take care of here first.” He smiles. “So give me a minute, yeah?”

MIYA ATSUMU.

“Gonna have to keep that pretty voice of yours down.” Atsumu’s lips brush against the shell of your ear, big hands tight around your hips as he drags you up and down his thigh. “Or ‘Samu’s gonna hear ya.”

Your hips stutter against his leg, drawing a sharp gasp from you- and he curses under his breath. Osamu would be back any second now, and yet he’s got you seated on him, your lounge shorts pulled to the side so he can draw one quick orgasm out of you before the three of you head out for dinner.

Because you— Atsumu’s impatient lil bunny, or so he calls you, just couldn’t wait until after the dinner to get a quick treat.

“‘M trying.” You whisper, voice breathless and whiny, and you tighten your embrace around his middle, burying your face deep into the fabric of his sweater. “Feels ‘s good… so good— need more..”

“I know, I know— later, yeah?” He sounds unsteady from how roughly he’s moving you against him, muscles of his thigh flexing and hardening underneath you. “Gonna give it to ya real good. stuff ya nice and full. How’s that sound, dirty girl?”

You want that.

You know exactly how easy it’d be for him to get you gushing underneath his cock if it weren’t for your insistence on him not cumming. And well.. it kind of made sense to him— considering how your last creampie went. His mind thinks back to how you looked with his cum dribbling down your thighs as you nervously clamped them together, and how no one seemed to noticed the juices dripping into a neat little puddle beneath you.

It’d be so easy— he’s got you all mapped out and knows you like the back of his hand. He could just push those pretty thighs of yours up to your face, hold them nice and still as he pummels the deep spot inside you that has you chanting his name over and over, and your cunt would be gushing right after that.

“‘Tsumu.” You choke out, tightly latching onto him like a koala, “‘M gonna cum..!”

“You are, aren’t ya? I can tell.” He groans, and his thigh bounces up into you, mumbling a curse under his breath when you squeal at the roughness. “Show me that pretty face when you’re lettin’ go.”

A couple more rolls of your hips and you’re gasping and stuttering against him, Atsumu pulling you just right against his thigh as your eyes slam shut, knot inside you violently snapping in an instant as you tremble underneath him, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

“That’s my fuckin’ girl.” His voice comes out deep and breathy, hands tightening their grip on you. “Ride it all out f’ me, rela- oh s-shit.”

Your eyes widen as soon as the sound of footsteps registers in your mind, and your head swiftly turns back to see that Atsumu’s already pulling your shorts back over your cunt, your juices immediately soaking through the fabric as he holds you flush against his chest, big hand cradling the back of your head.

“‘Tsumu..!” You whisper, but he’s shushing you with gentle strokes along the back of your head.

“What, ‘Samu?” he calls out, his mind putting together a silent prayer that his twin was not about to open the door.

His prayers go unanswered.

“You two ready yet?” Osamu’s asking as soon as he flings open the door, the knob accidentally slipping through his grasp, and your door crashes against your wall with a loud thud a second later.

You faintly hear him mutter an “oops” before his eyes are finally falling on you, brow raising at the sight of you clinging tightly onto atsumu as your chest heaves up and down.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI.

“What?” you can feel your concentration falter as soon as the sound of Sakusa’s voice reaches you, and you’re immediately wiping at the frustrated tears that have begun to collect along your lashes. “Can’t cum like that?”

You’re quick to shake your head, and he doesn’t miss the slight tremble to your lips. Cute.

Sakusa had his doubts about this idea of yours from the start. He knows how needy you always get— knows that despite that innocent face of yours, your cunt’s anything but. It’s greedy. Something like this was probably not gonna be able to get you to finish, and he knew that.. but a part of him was just curious.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was to see you this frustrated. Your chest is rising up and down with each angry pant, arm coming to rub at your nose from the occasional sniffle after being denied orgasm after orgasm.

And him? he’s never felt such a strong ache before. The dark spot on his shorts are a tell-tale sign that he’s been leaking with pre-cum, and he can practically feel it starting to drip down his cock. Neither of you were doing so well, and if he was being honest, he’s on the verge of flipping you over and putting you in a mating press— but the small voice inside him wants to see you come undone on his thighs. Badly.

He’s just gotta see how you look.

“Need your cock, Omi.” You mumble, rising onto your knees to scoot further up, but he’s stopping you only a second later. “Omi? Why..?”

“No.” he says flatly. “You don’t.”

“I do!” You’re protesting immediately after, hands balancing on his shoulders. “Can’t finish without it— ah!”

You yelp when he’s roughly pulling you back down, his quad flexing as soon as your cunt makes contact with his leg. The hands around your hips are tight, and Sakusa’s setting a rhythm only a moment later, keeping the muscles of his legs firm and flexed to better rub against your clit.

“W-wait!” You’re stammering, whining straight into his ear as you frantically latch onto him. He lets you bury your face into the crook of his neck as he works you closer to your high, forcing you into a mind-numbing pace to have you flying right off the edge in a few more seconds.

“You can— don’t fight it.” His voice comes out as a deep grunt, a result of his dragged out attempts at ignoring the borderline painful throb of his cock, and oh- he was so going to take you in a mating press after this. The second you’re finished gushing, he was gonna flip you over and finally rid himself this irritating ache.

“Omi!” You sob, eyes clenching shut as your hips start to stutter, and he can feel you trembling underneath his hands. “Omi.. O-omi— ‘m close!” He only responds by roughly pressing his thigh up against you, thick muscle hitting your clit just right as you choke out a scream, finally gushing all over his thighs.

“See?” He exhales, breath hitching in his throat when your nails dig deep into his back, his hands slowly moving you up and down to ride out your high.

“You can.”

DAICHI SAWAMURA.

“Feeling good, huh? Don’t try to fight it.”

Daichi grunts when you tug at his hair a little harder, face buried deep into his front as you desperately hump his leg. He’s gentle with you, strong hands guiding you up and down his leg, but he’d be lying if he said his patience wasn’t starting to wear thin.

The sweet nothings he’s been whispering into your ear this entire time are starting to sound a lot less like cooing and a lot more like grunting.

He couldn’t help it. He can feel you so so vividly, feel your juices dripping down the sides of his thigh and hear you moaning straight into his chest. You were soaked through and through, and it’s taking everything in him to stay patient and let you have this.

“There you go.” He’s praising you when you grind against him particularly hard, ignoring the way his shorts are feeling painfully tight around his cock. “Just like that— move exactly like that.”

“Daichi,” you whine. “‘M getting so close— feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He exhales deeply, and the way his cock twitches suddenly has him groaning, hands squeezing a bit too hard against your hips as you wince. “Daichi..?”

“Oops, sorry princess.” He’s clenching his jaw, giving you a weak smile as you wrap your arms around him. “That’s my bad. Don’t mind me, okay? Just.. worry about yourself— this is all about you right now.”

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI.

You weren’t as subtle as you thought.

His legs just looked so strong, so perfect to sit on, and you couldn’t help yourself. He didn’t seem to think too much of it when you first sat a little lower than you usually did, straddling his mid thigh as he flipped through another manga that Tendou had lent him earlier that week.

Just subtle movements up and down his thigh was your original plan, but it didn’t take very long for him to catch on.

“What are you doing?” Ushijima’s voice has you jolting from where you’re seated on his left thigh, his gaze now on you and the way you’re frantically waving your arms around in defense, barely able to stammer out a “N-nothing!”

You just barely catch the way his eyebrow raises in suspicion. It has you moving off him the next second, but he’s tossing aside the manga, big and strong hands easily wrapping around your hips to keep you planted on him.

“Don’t leave yet.” He says, stern and flat, but you catch the hint of curiosity swirling deep in his eyes.

The familiar heat of embarrassment is flooding to your face in an instant, and your head hangs low. “S-sorry, Toshi.” You mumble, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “Your thighs just looked so big, just wanted to… ride them.”

It’s silent.

You work up the courage to snack a glance at him again, now faced with the sight of his head tilted a bit, as if confused by your confession. “B-but!” You continue, mouth already running off on its own. “Forget it, okay? It might be weird— Toshi..?”

It was just one little flex of his quad, one that had the muscle pushing up against your clit, but the way his name rolled off your tongue sounded sinful. You can feel his grip around your hips tightening a bit, and he’s leaning in to close the gap between the two of you.

“Wouldn’t it feel better like this?”

BOKUTO KOUTAROU.

It started off with an accidental brush of his knee against your cunt.

Bokuto had always been eager with his kisses. He had you pinned down on his mattress, body hovering over yours as he moved his lips against your own— and he hadn’t even noticed anything different until he heard you suddenly moan into his mouth. He’s pulling away the next second, eyes wide as he tries gauging your reaction again, bringing his knee back to rub over your cunt. And … just like clockwork, your eyes clench shut and you choke back a gasp.

He swallows thickly.

Only five minutes later and he’s got you seated on his thigh, moving you back and forth with a needy grunt, his free hand squeezing your cheeks as he forces you to look up at him. “Don’t look away, ‘kay?”

“You look pretty— pretty like that. I just wanna see.”

The look on his face isn’t much different from yours. His mouth is slightly parted in desperate pants, deep red spreading across his cheeks at the sight of you feeling good on his leg. He’s swallowing deeply before he takes in a sharp inhale right after, already pussy drunk and his dick hasn’t even touched you yet.

The way your face starts to contort when you’re rapidly approaching your high has him just hoping he doesn’t end up finishing untouched. It’s throbbing— absolutely aching with need and as soon as you start sobbing his name, he can feel his patience shatter into thin pieces.

You let out a loud yelp as soon as your back hits the mattress, Bokuto looming over you with a strained look on his face as he rushes to line his tip up with your hole. “S-sorry.” His voice is just above a growl. “I can’t help it after all. It’s okay though, right? Gonna make you feel good.”

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lovie-bugzz · 7 months ago

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train ride ┊fred weasley

pairing - bsf!fred x f!reader (first person pov)

summary - The train compartment had gotten a bit crowded on the way to Hogwarts, so your best friend Fred offered for you to sit in his lap. However, throughout the ride you just couldn't seem to get comfortable...

contains - smut, dom!Fred, swearing, fingering, orgasm denial, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), teasing, hair pulling, rough sex, cum swallowing

word count - 4834

✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

The twins and I were laughing about something stupid that George had said as the train left the station. I lightly hit the boy in the arm, "Shut up!" I say between laughter.

After we had calmed down, Fred spoke up, "Let's go meet up with Lee and the girls." He said, referring to Alicia and Angelina. The six of us had been a tight knit group since first year, and it now being our sixth year, it was safe to say that we were all extremely close.

George and I agreed, and so the three of us began our trek down the aisles of the train, looking into each of the compartments. Once we found them, we squeezed into the small room, greeting one another.

As the three of us sat down, it began to be a tad bit cramped, with Lee and Alicia taking up the whole of one side, Fred and I had to squeeze in beside Angelina and George.

I pushed past how uncomfortable I was as Lee started a conversation, asking, "Do any of you have a clue as to what's happening at Hogwarts this year?"

"No! Mum's been going ballistic and nobody will tell us what's going on." George told them, Fred nodding along, "Yeah, it's like all the adults are keeping this giant secret."

The topic continued for about twenty minutes, everyone butting in with their own theories as the what was happening. I couldn't really pay attention as I was severely uncomfortable, being pressed in between Fred's shoulder and the window, my arms were pretty much completely constricted.

Fred glanced over at me, with a crease in his brow, noticing how squashed and uncomfortable I was, he leant down slightly to speak to me, "You alright, love?"

"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine, it's just a bit cramped in here." I told him, brushing it off. The boy chuckled lightly, shaking his head, before suddenly he pulled me up by my waist, and placed me in his lap.

I was a bit surprised at first, my eyes going wide for a split second until I let out a small sigh of relief at now finally being able to move my arms. I turned back slightly with a light chuckle and gave him a thankful nod, to which he returned with a cheeky smile.

For a while, everything was fine, I was comfortable and laughing along with the lively conversations in the compartment. But that stopped when I started to squirm a bit, causing Fred to still, letting out a quiet groan, which I didn't quite catch.

I stopped after a moment, finding a comfortable stop on his lap, making the boy let out an inaudible sigh of relief. His attention was brought back to the conversation for a mere minute before I started moving my hips again, finding my spot atop him to be growing more and more uncomfortable the longer I sat here.

One movement I made in particular had my ass digging right into his now hardening bulge. He harshly grabbed my hips, halting my movements which made me jump a bit at the sudden contact.

The boy leaned forward towards my ear, whispering lightly so the others wouldn't hear, "love, if you don't stop that, we're going to have an issue..." He said, his voice had a sudden rasp to it. The unfamiliar tone sent a shiver down my spine, my eyes widening as I realized what I had been doing, and a deep red blush settled on my cheeks.

I was glad the others weren't paying attention to us, they were too encapsulated by their own conversations.

It was an innocent mistake, I was only trying to get comfortable, forgetting that I was literally sitting on top of Fred's dick and squirming around. I turned back slightly, to look at him, as I whispered back, "Do you want me to move?" I asked, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

He rose a brow at me, a smirk on his face, "You moving is the problem, love." He joked, making me roll my eyes at him, the blush on my cheeks deepening further. He spoke again, this time with a more serious note, "I just need you to stop fidgeting so much, okay?"

He moved one of his hands from my waist to my thigh, his hand casually resting on my inner thigh, his touch causing my skin to tingle. I turned back around, "Fine..." I spoke, innocently looking out the window, making sure I didn't move anymore.

I watched the trees and landscape fly past us, but I couldn't keep the thoughts out of my head. Of what would happen if I did move again. It was definitely tempting, I bit my lip as dirty thoughts made their way into my head. But I shook them away just as quickly as they came. What was I doing? Fred is my best friend, I can't be thinking about him like this.

But on the other hand, it was tempting. So, after about another minute or two of contemplation in my head, I decided to test the waters.

Pretending like I had forgotten our prior conversation, I just slightly moved my hips against his. The boy let out a cough, as if clearing his throat, but I knew better. I stifled my smirk, before moving again, this time the tiniest bit harder. He sucked in a breath, glaring at the back of my head.

He knew exactly what I was doing, but he couldn't do anything, no matter how badly he wanted to, not with his brother and friends in the same compartment. So, he subtlety pinched my waist, as a warning, which sort of backfired on him as it only made me squirm more, my ass hitting exactly the right spot to rile him up.

I could feel it, the effect I had on him, how could I not? It was digging into my ass. The boy grit his teeth, leaning up a bit to whisper to me, "You're playing a dangerous game, love..." He spoke lowly, but I only shrugged, feigning innocence, my hips moving hard against him, making him groan as I turned to give him a smug smile, "I don't know what you're on about." I say simply, turning back around and making sure my movements stayed completely still.

Fred chuckled lowly, throwing his head back against the seat, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. He was clearly frustrated that I stopped, and I couldn't help but smirk in satisfaction.

About five minutes had gone by, I was so busy basking in glory that I almost missed how Fred gripped my hips and stood us up.

"We're going to go find the trolley. Do any of you want anything?" Fred spoke, asking the others. I was confused by this, but didn't make any move to protest as I was too focused on how hard the boy behind me was grabbing my hips.

Everyone shared a glance before Lee spoke, "No, we're good."

Fred nodded before moving us forward and pushing us out of the compartment and letting the door slide closed behind us. He loosened his tight grip on my hips, but kept them resting there as he pushed me forward to walk down the corridor.

I had no doubt in my mind that he was keeping me so close in front of him to hide his boner. I let a smug smile wash over my face at the situation, but it was quickly washed off my face as my arm was suddenly being tugged into the bathroom. I gasped as Fred pulled us into the small room, slamming the door shut, locking it and then proceeding to push me flush against it.

I stared up at him with wide eyes as he towered over me, the dark look in his eyes making me squirm against the door. He rested his arms on either side of me, effectively trapping me in place between him and the door. He leaned in close, his nose almost touching mine, his eyes roaming hungrily over my face.

"You didn't think you were actually gonna get away with that did you?" The boy asked. "You think you're so clever, don't you? Playing with fire like that, teasing me in the train compartment with our friends around."

I couldn't answer, my words failing on me as my mouth opened and closed like a blubbering fish.

Fred smirked at my reaction to his intense gaze. He pressed his body more firmly against mine, leaving me no escape. His hands moved from the door to my hips, keeping me in place, his grip tight enough to leave slight indents on my skin from his long fingers. He rose a taunting brow at me, "Cat got your tongue, love? You were quite the little minx a few minutes ago. What happened?"

I was in such a state of shock, not knowing what to say, my cheeks were burning. As soon as he had pulled me into the bathroom all of my confidence went down the drain. The way he was looking down at me hungrily, his lust filled eyes staring into my soul, it made my knees weak.

Fred chuckled low in his throat, noticing the effect he was having on me. His smirk turned into a sly grin, his eyes drinking in the sight of my flushed cheeks and the way my body was practically trembling against his.

"Not so cocky now, are you? Just a few minutes ago you were teasing me to no end, knowing exactly what it would do to me. But now..." He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above my ear, his voice dropping to a low, sultry whisper. "Now you're trembling beneath my touch, and it's driving me mad."

His hot breath fanning over my ear made me let out a shaky breath, I turned my head slightly to look at him. "Fred..." I breathed out, my eyes flickering down to his lips as I bit down on my own. The air in this small bathroom was thick, I felt like I couldn't breathe.

Fred's eyes darkened as he watched my gaze linger on his lips. His gaze zeroed in on my biting down on my own lip, a sight so tempting that it took all his self-control to not attack my mouth in that very moment. He chuckled softly, the sound rough and filled with desire.

"Say my name again." He commanded, his voice a low, gravelly whisper, as he moved his face closer to mine, his breath mingling with mine in the cramped space between us. He smirked, loving the effect he was having on me. He thrived off of it.

I did as he said, breathing out his name once more, "Fred..." I was getting desperate, I needed him to do something.

Fred's eyes darkened with desire as he heard me say his name again, the tone of my voice making his self-control waver even more. He smiled slightly, enjoying the power he held over me in this moment. He knew I wanted him to do something, but he wasn't going to give in that easily. He loved having me at his mercy, the look of want in my eyes making him feel powerful, and making him want me even more.

"You want something, love?" He asked, his voice low and seductive, as he took a piece of my hair and delicately placed it behind my ear.

I nodded, "Mhm." I hummed out, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes. My desire for him was clouding my head.

Fred smirked down at me, the look in my eyes fueling his arrogance and ego. He slowly moved a hand from my waist to my chin, his fingers gently gripping it and tilting it up slightly, forcing me to maintain eye contact with him.

"Use your words, love. Tell me what you want, and maybe I'll give it to you." He teased.

"I want..." I trail off, my voice failing on me. I cleared my throat, looking up at him, "I want you to kiss me."

Fred was consumed by desire and need, the moment I uttered those words he couldn't hold back anymore. He practically lunged at me, capturing my lips in a rough and needy kiss, full of pent-up passion and desperation. My arms went to circle around his neck, but before I could, he quickly took hold of my wrists, pinning them above me with one hand, holding them firmly against the door.

I let out a gasp at the action, which he took full advantage of by plunging his tongue into my mouth, exploring every inch of it, tasting me, claiming me as his own. His free hand wandered down my body, tracing every curve and contour, making me moan around his tongue.

Fred swallowed my moan, the sound only adding to his hunger and desire. He was intoxicated by me, my gasps and sighs fueling his need to have all of me. He continued to explore my body with his hand, each touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

He broke the kiss, panting slightly, only to attack my neck with his lips and tongue, nibbling and sucking at the sensitive flesh, determined to leave his mark on me.

"Oh, fuck..." I whined as I felt him bite down on my neck, turning my head slightly to give him better access. My arms squirming in his tight hold.

Fred continued his assault on my neck, he released a low growl, his hold on my wrists tightening as he felt me squirm beneath him, clearly enjoying my reaction to his touch. He nipped and sucked, leaving behind a trail of red marks on my neck.

I shivered as he blew cold air over the tender skin, before speaking into my neck, "You're so sensitive."

I couldn't respond, too caught up in the pleasure, but my eyes suddenly widened as I felt his fingers start playing with the waistband of my pants, running against the skin of my lower stomach. I bit my lip in anticipation, and I could feel Fred smirking against my neck when he noticed.

His fingers continued to toy with the waistband of my pants, occasionally slipping beneath it, teasing the sensitive flesh of my stomach, but not going any further than my panty line. I squirmed in his hold, getting impatient.

He broke away from my neck for a moment to look down at me, and the look in his eyes was pure desire and hunger. "You're so pretty like this, love." He whispered, his voice rough with need.

I continued to squirm in his hold, the way he was still holding my arms against the door was maddening. "Please, Fred... Touch me, please." I whined, desperately.

Fred only chuckled evilly, "Why should I, love? You been teasing me all day, testing my patience." He taunted, his fingers continued to toy with the waistband of my pants, occasionally dipping below the fabric, only to slide back out again, teasing me.

"I'm sorry... I won't tease you anymore, just please. I need it." I pleaded, pushing my hips closer to him. The way his fingers were brushing just above where I needed him was making me even more desperate with desire.

His hand moved from my waistband to my hip, gripping it tightly and forcing me back onto the door. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above mine, his words a hot whisper against my mouth. "You're a needy little thing, aren't you? Begging for me like this."

I let out a whimper, nodding at his words as my head rolled against the door. "What do you want, love? Tell me what you need. I want to hear you say it." He said, his voice low and sultry.

"Your fingers. I need them inside of me." I answered, making him chuckle from my blunt response.

"Is that so, hm?" He murmured, his hand trailing away from my hip and moving between my legs to rub me through my pants. I whined at the sensation, finally getting some friction. "You want my fingers, do you? You want me to make you feel good, make you cum?"

I couldn't help but moan from his words, that combined with how he was touching me sent heat over my body. I nodded again, "Yes, please."

"That's a good girl, using your words and asking nicely. I like that." He teased, his fingers moving up to unbutton my pants, pulling them slowly, exposing more of my skin. He began trailing his fingers over the top of my panties, his touch was light and teasing.

He leaned in closer, his lips grazing my ear, as he whispered, "Are you wet for me, love?"

I shivered, nodding my head, "So wet, just for you, Fred." I told him, my arms squirming in his hold once more, I wanted to touch him so badly.

He chuckled darkly at my unsuccessful attempts to break free of his grip, he only tightened his hold on my wrists. He could feel how much I wanted to touch him, but he wasn't done making me a needy mess just yet.

"Is that so?" He whispered, his voice thick with desire, as his fingers slipped beneath the fabric of my panties, gently touching my bare skin, feeling just how aroused I was.

My breathing stuttered as his fingers trailed over my wetness, spreading it over my throbbing clit, causing me to moan loudly. Fred smirked in satisfaction at the sound of my moans, he loved how I was reacting to his touch, how he was reducing me to a moaning mess with just his fingers.

"Shhh, love. You're being too loud. You don't want anyone to hear us, do you? I don't think you want everyone to know just how needy you are for me, how desperate you are for my touch." He whispered, continuing to tease me, his fingers rubbing and circling over my bundle of nerves.

I nodded, biting my lip to stop myself from being too loud, but that went down the drain as I felt him slip two fingers inside of me. I practically screamed at the force with which they entered me. "Fuck!"

Fred chuckled as my reaction to his fingers entering me, it was louder than he initially thought, he quickly dropped his hold from my wrists and moved his hand to cover my mouth, effectively muffling my scream into a mewl.

"Shhh, love. You really can't keep quiet, can you?" He teased, his voice thick as he continued pumping his fingers inside me at a fast pace.

I moaned against his hand, my own hands that were finally free gripping onto his wrist that was moving inside of me. My eyes rolling back in my head as I felt him add a third finger, stretching me out.

"Oh, fuck, love. You're fucking swallowing my fingers." Fred groaned out, curling his fingers inside me, hitting that perfect spot that had that familiar coil in my stomach forming.

I was so close, and I knew he could tell by the way I was clenching around his digits. My breathing was coming out ragged, I was panting against his hand as he continued to hit my g-spot over and over again. My orgasm was right there, I was tipping over the edge until suddenly, Fred took his fingers out of me.

I let out a squeal in protest against his hand, but Fred only chuckled at me, as he dropped his hand from my mouth, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Why... Why did you stop?" I panted out, watching as he placed his three fingers that were dripping in my slick in his mouth, sucking me off of them.

He hummed around his fingers, pulling them out of his mouth with a pop, I stared at him in shock as he responded, "Oh, now, love. You didn't think I was going to let you finish just like that, did you? Not after how naughty you've been all day." He teased, a smirk on his lips.

I let out a huff, throwing my head back against the door, frustrated from being denied my release. But my ears perked up as I heard him undoing his belt, making me look back at him.

"Patience, love." He said, undoing his belt and quickly unzipping his pants. "Good things come to those who wait, remember?" He taunted me, slowly letting his pants fall to the ground, and stepping out of them, leaving him in his boxers.

I stared down at the obvious tent, the one that I had created, I bit my lip watching as he paced towards me, pulling me toward him and kissing me hard.

The kiss was more rough and needy than our previous one, we were breathing heavily into it, devouring each other. My hands trailed into his hair, as his trailed down and squeezed my ass, and I moaned as I felt his hard on press against my lower stomach.

In one swift movement he broke the kiss, turning me around and bending me over the sink. He ran his hands over my back, before harshly pulling my underwear down my legs. His hands ran possessively over my hips.

I looked over my shoulder at him, watching as he pushed his boxers down, freeing his length, my eyes widened at the size. "Shit..." I muttered out.

Fred smirked at my reaction, "See something you like, love?" He teased, making my eyes snap up to meet his gaze.

"You're... So big." I spoke, almost cringing at myself, but I couldn't help it. Fred chuckled at my bluntness, he loved how I was so honest and open with my words, not like most girls he'd been with.

"Don't worry, love. I'll make you feel good." He reassured me as his hands stroked my thighs, moving up and down my skin in a soothing motion.

I bit my lip, nodding my head, the way he could be so rough with me one second, and the next be so comforting was making my head dizzy.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?" He murmured as his hands slowly moved higher up my thighs, nearing my bare core. I shivered at his words, his touch making me more needy.

He bent down slightly, placing a kiss on my hip before he went back up, spreading my legs a bit more and started lining himself up with my entrance, running his dick through my wet folds, making me whine.

"You ready?" He asked, to which I nodded, but that seemed to not be good enough because Fred gripped my hip tightly, "No. I need a yes." He growled, as I let out a shaky breath.

"Yes..." I responded, making him smirk.

"Good girl." He praised, before slamming into me, instantly bottoming out, making me scream out his name, "Fuck, Fred!"

My hands gripped tightly onto the edges of the sink, the boy behind me panted heavily as he began to relentlessly pound into me, "Oh, fuck. So fucking tight, love." He spoke, his words adding to the amount of pleasure I was in.

The sound of our skin slapping together, our heavy breathing and moans filled the small bathroom, if anyone walked passed the door they would have no doubt about what was going on in here. "Feel good, love?" Fred questioned, but I could only moan in response.

Fred growled at this, his hand roughly latched onto my hair, pulling me flush against his chest, speaking lowly in my ear, "Huh? I asked you a question."

"Yes! Yes, feels so- Fuck- So good!" I stuttered out, my eyes rolling in the back of my head. The way he pulled on my hair was intoxicating, it was painful, but the pleasure it gave me completely overpowered it.

His free hand trailed up the front of my shirt, pushing it up over my bra, before pushing that up as well. He squeezed my boob in his hand, lightly pinching my nipple, making me whimper.

"Yeah? You like how I fuck you, don't you? You're taking me so well." He praised, his hips stuttering a bit, so he took his hand away from my boob, pulling out for a moment to grab my thigh and rest it atop the edge of the sink.

After he readjusted me, he pushed my back down again, still keeping his strong grip in my hair, before thrusting back into me. "Yes!" I moaned out, the new angle allowing him to hit my g-spot, and his balls to slap my clit repeatedly.

I knew if he kept up this pace I wasn't gonna last much longer, plus I was still a bit sensitive from him denying me my orgasm before. "Fuck, this pussy is all mine." He groaned, his voice hoarse.

"Yes! Oh, fuck it's yours! All yours!" I said in between moans. I was a mess, beginning to clench tightly around him as I felt myself nearing release.

Fred moaned as he felt me squeezing him, "You close, love? Gonna cum?" He taunted, picking up his pace, which I wasn't sure was even possible.

"Yes! So close." I said, my voice cracking.

"Cum then, cum all over my cock." Fred commanded. It didn't take long after his words for my release to wash over me, my eyes rolled back as I let out a guttural moan, my legs shaking as he continued to pound into me, letting me ride out my high.

I felt Fred twitch inside of me before he spoke, "Shit, shit..." He moaned, swiftly pulling out of me, "On your knees." He demanded, his voice low and authoritative. I instantly complied, moving off the sink and getting on my knees in front of him, "Open your mouth for me, love." He said, prompting me to listen, I opened wide, staring up at him as he jerked off above me.

He groaned at the sight of me below him, throwing his head back, as he hovered his tip over my tongue, "You look so good down there." He said, before letting out a guttural moan, and releasing in my mouth.

I moaned as his cum shot out onto my tongue, the salty taste making me hum in pleasure. "Fuck..." He trailed off, his hand slowing on himself as he milked himself dry.

I closed my mouth, swallowing his seed, making him stare down at me darkly, before harshly pulling me up to my feet. "Such a good girl for me." He praised once more, holding my cheek in his hand before pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.

As he pulled away, he gave me a loving look, "Was that okay, love? I didn't go to hard did I?" He asked, making my heart melt. "No, that was... Perfect." I told him, it still baffled me how he could be so rough and dominant and then switch to being so caring and comforting.

He chuckled, "Good." He said, moving away from me to pull his boxers back up and put his pants on. As he did I adjusted my bra and pulled my shirt down, before bending down as well to put my own pants on, but I stopped short when I felt the sudden pain in my legs, making me wobble a bit.

"Woah." Fred spoke, going forward and grabbing my waist to steady me, "You alright?"

"Yeah... My legs just hurt a bit." I told him. Fred smirked at that, making me shoot him a glare, and lightly slap him on the chest. "Shut up."

He rose his hands in mock surrender, "I didn't say anything." I just shook my head at him, trying to bend down again, but he stopped me, "Let me help you."

I watched him as he bent down, slowly pulling up my underwear, then my pants, even buttoning them for me. I gave him a smile as he stood back up, and pecked my lips. "Thanks."

"For what? The sex, or helping you put your clothes back on?" He joked, making me roll my eyes. "Fred." I warned him, making him chuckle. "Okay, okay. I'll stop." He said, as he buckled his belt, while I adjusted my hair, trying to make it look like Fred's hands weren't just gripping and tugging on it a few minutes ago.

"Do you think they'll know?" I asked, making him look at me. He glanced down at my neck, specifically the hickeys that littered every inch of my skin. He stifled his smirk, "Considering the amount of hickeys I left on you... No, they'll have no clue." He said, sarcastically.

I groaned before we both looked at each other, and instantly broke out into laughter. This was definitely not how I thought this day would go when I woke up this morning, but I couldn't complain.

✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

masterlist

#fred weasley #fred weasley smut #smut #harry potter smut #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfic #oneshot #imagine #fred weasley imagine #fanfic #smut fanfic #weasley smut #weasley twins #weasley twins smut #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins fanfic

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miniimight · 9 months ago

Text

"S'NOT MY BIRTHDAY..." silly girl, thinking you need an occasion in order to be spoiled by them!

with gojo, nanami x fem!reader

notes trying out this writing thing again lol

in previous relationships, you had to deal with the bare minimum. a generic greeting card on valentine's day, a bunch of snacks for your birthday, and a necklace for christmas because 'that's what girls like, right?'

now, with him, it's different. he has no qualms about getting you anything your eyes linger on, no matter the price. he had so much money, he picked things up and swiped his card without so much as a glance at the cost. it baffled you sometimes.

it happened was early on in your relationship. you then quickly learned to just sit back and let him spoil you!!

GOJO

satoru's fingers were laced with yours as he swung your connected arms between you. he inhaled deeply, looking up at the high ceiling of the mall. "today's a good a day as any to throw some cash, don't you think baby?"

you giggle and squeeze his hand. "one or two things should be okay." that's what you budgeted for, anyway.

he rolled his eyes, scolding you for your tiny imagination before allowing you to pull him along to your favorite stores.

it wasn't long before your eyes spotted the store you loved but couldn't afford. your stare was glued to the window display, all the cute tops and pants and bags and shoes and bracelets and...

when he felt your steps slow, satoru glanced at you. you were laser focused on the clothing store—naturally, he sharply turned towards it.

"hey!" you squeaked at the sudden change of direction, and you hurried to match his pace again. "toru??"

"i saw you looking, baby, why didn't you just say you wanted to check it out?" he teased.

you looked over to the side, embarrassed. "i... i don't wanna tempt myself, cus i know i'll gaslight myself into buying something."

he narrowed his eyes, not in scorn but in confusion. "who said you were buying anything?"

"huh?" you chirped, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

gojo stared blankly at you. you really were adorable, thinking he wouldn't spend his last dime on whatever you wanted, regardless of how trivial it was. a smile pulled at his lips.

"my sweet girl," he cooed. "my sweet, slow girl..."

you gasped indignantly and poked satoru's side, earning a giggle from him. "slow?!"

"obviously, i'll by whatever you want, silly." he tugged you towards the entrance of the store.

"but..." you resisted his pull. "it's not my birthday or anything..."

huh? he pouted. "as if i need a special reason to get you stuff."

"but..." heat creeped up your neck as you reveled in the unfamiliar feeling of being spoiled. something inside you told you that he was just being nice and was waiting for you to shut him down, save him the expenses. "it's not fair, is it? i didn't get you anything so far..."

his face fell slightly as he pulled you away from the busy traffic of the moving crowds. satoru pulled your chin up to face him. "i dunno what's running through that pretty head of yours, but answer me this, okay?"

you nod.

"you want it?" he gestured towards the store.

you hesitated, eyes straying from his face. he quickly squished your cheeks, causing your eyes to widen and snap to his. "—!"

"don't overthink it, pretty girl, just tell me."

"yesfh." you answer dejectedly, muffled against his hands.

"then you'll have it." he told you. "i want you to have anything and everything you say you want. i wanna buy it for you. and being able to hear you say 'my boyfriend got this for me' is all i need in return." he grinned cheekily.

you pouted, looking unbelievably cute in his eyes. he despises the partners of your past for leading you astray, thinking you needed to do something special in order to be appreciated. don't worry, he'll fix that in no time.

he pecked your pursed lips before hugging you. "okay?"

you giggle. "okay."

"yay!! now let's go!!"

by the end of the day, he had to call ichiji to help carry all the bags to the car. he was so proud of you!

NANAMI

kento was your shadow as you glided through the store, picking up things and setting them down.

"oh, this is so cute!" you squealed holding up a tee for him to see.

he smiled, more because of your excited expression than the t-shirt. "it is. you should get it."

you hummed, in thought. your hands drifted over the material, picking up the tag before inhaling sharply. "nah, another time."

he frowned. you'd done this at every store so far, picking up things you said you liked but leaving them behind. he was bewildered. "but... you like it, do you not?"

you winced, hoping this topic wouldn't come up. "i do! it's just the price. out of my budget, you know?" you said, trying to be light. you burned with discomfort. might as well just say you're poor.

kento frowned. "oh..."

"yeah."

you quickly turned away, avoiding the confused look on his face.

"y/n." he called you.

"...yes?" you glanced behind you, seeing him standing over the shirts.

"are you under the impression that you would be paying?" he asked.

you blinked. "oh?" yes, you were, but you were surprised to learn that he had the opposite understanding. "well... yeah."

he frowned, disappointed with himself. "i'm sorry. i didn't intend to make you feel that way."

you stepped closer, rubbing his arm soothingly. "what are you talking about?" you laughed softly. "you didn't make me feel any kind of way. i'm not upset, if that's what you're getting at. i never expected you to spend your money on me."

his frown only deepened. oh, how he has failed. "why not?"

you faltered. how did you manage to make it worse? "i'm not sure i understand..."

kento shook his head. "have you been thinking you'd be using your own money for purchases? this whole time?"

"um..."

"sweetheart, i'm paying. for everything, at all times." he refused to hear anything else, cutting you off when you opened your mouth to retort. "we'll have to circle back to the stores we previously visited."

it was your turn to frown. "kento, it won't be my birthday for a few months! you don't have to get me anything right now."

"what does your birthday have to do with anything?" he asked, genuinely confused. "i don't mean to interrogate you, my love, but i think i am the one who doesn't understand."

"you'd get me anything i asked for?" you shoot back, spelling it out for him. "for no reason?"

"for one reason," he replied. "simply because you want it. it'd make you happy."

warmth spread across your face. "that's two reasons." you mumbled.

he clicked his tongue, exacerbating your bashfulness when he pulled you into his side. he kissed your forehead. "you make me laugh, y/n. i was so confused as to why you weren't getting anything. surely that's not how you usually shop."

he bought that shirt for you, as well as the many things you thought were cute at all the stores you stepped foot in. now, you shop without any hesitations.

#gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #nanami x reader #kento x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #jjk nanami #gojo satoru #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk satoru #jjk kento #jjk x you

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jaegerbby · 1 year ago

Text

➳ inculpatus

--͙[satoru gojo x female! reader]-͙-

╰┈➤ word count; 5800

╰┈➤ rundown; satoru is everything you want and more, it is time you gave him a little more of you.

╰┈➤ caution; virgin! reader (also described as having small breasts), established relationship, corruption kink, cunninglingus, size kink, cum eating, ball sucking (?), handjob, dry humping, fingering.

not proof read!

he is pretty, way too pretty for you to think properly.

"can i suck your dick?" satoru flinches once the words leave your mouth. he is perched on the quaint white sofa in your apartment and maybe you should not have spoken so loosely because his eyes slightly widen as he turns to you.

"sorry! it's just... you haven't tried anything with me." you unsurely speak, avoiding his gaze. satoru is respectful, overly so. you thought inviting him to your place would at least give him a hint without you having to spell it out for him.

sky blue eyes flit over your features before he licks his lips. they are so pink they look doll like. "i don't want to push you." he pauses. "because you're a virgin." while he does not admit it, it undeniably makes him hard.

"i'm not ready for sex but other things." you trail off, "you can do other things with me."

he jaggedly nods, his head feels dizzy after hearing you say he can have his way with you. "i'll do anything you want."

you perk up immediately.

"how do i get it hard?" he follows your gaze as you focus on his crotch. where the grey fabric of his pants are futile in concealing his bulge.

you are too cute. satoru surges forward to press soft wet kisses to the right of your neck before shifting to give the left the same treatment.

your breath picks up at his proximity, you feel the softness of his hair but it is a lot different in this atmosphere.

his large palm cups along your jaw. "you don't have to do anything. i could look at you and my cock gets so hard it hurts. it's worse cause these clothes are so skimpy." his gaze has darkened now, your mouth feels sticky with spit and your stomach turns in an unfamiliar way.

he grips your wrist to bring your hand onto his stiffened erection. "feel that?" he urges your touch along him, it feels hard, long and hot. so hot.

it does not take long before you are caressing him without any assistance, he puffs air into your face. "i didn't make a move cause i didn't want to scare you but i wanted to touch you. whenever you leaned over i saw your titties, i saw how small they are and your puffy nipples. got such cute tits, babe, wanted to suck on them so bad, would you like that?" you mewl at his low voice, his thumb strokes over your bottom lip.

"toru." his expression looks almost pained at how airy you sound, your voice is sexed out already. when you call him like that how is he supposed to stay sane?

he tugs the straps of your vest down, you practically writhe like a cock is in you as your breasts are revealed. you squeeze along his length, your little hand working him despite your lack of experience.

"i want to lick them up, see how much you squirm or if you'd cum from that alone. just from your little tits getting sucked" he paws at your chest, there is barely a handful for him to grope.

he tweaks your nipples, his eyes narrowing and his tongue flicking over his lip. he is so close you can see the sky within his eyes, the thickness of his lashes and the blush along his skin.

"you didn't wear a bra, what about panties? what kind do you wear, ones with little bows, pink, white? what's a virgin like you into? you keep your tight cunt covered in cute ones or do you dress her like a whore?" you moan at the vulgarity, your forehead leaning on his while you lose your bearings.

your pussy is a soaking mess and if you could, you would press your thighs together to relieve the ache that is building up the longer satoru invades your space.

your insides clench and clamp down, they feel like they are begging for something. satoru tugs your hand away from his heady cock and you whine.

"why don't you show me? show me what you have under those slutty shorts." he pinches at your nipple hard enough to make you wince, his teeth flashing as he smiles. he looks so pretty, far too perfect to be real.

your palm slowly strokes your pussy over your shorts, satoru's eyes hold yours before they flit down to look at you touch yourself.

his hands reach for your waist, bunching up in the fabric of your vest. he is so big and strong, his muscles flex and pulse. your fingers prod the waist band, biting your lip as you slip further in.

the soft skin of your pussy meets your fingers and the wetness pooling from your slit drenches them after. it is hot and syrupy. he can see bare skin where your hand keeps the fabric pulled taunt.

"i didn't wear any. cause you'd be here. i thought about you seeing my pussy through my shorts. did you, toru? when i answered the door or when i sat down did you see it?" he groans, rolling his head against yours.

you stroke down your slit, you are wetter than usually. you are so much wetter now than when you are touching yourself to the thought of him.

"you're driving me crazy. yeah i saw it. i saw your little cunt. you need to be careful, i'll start thinking you're telling me to take your pussy when you do things like this." you face contorts, satoru's hand trailing along your sides and his voice sounds like a wet dream come through.

you pump the underside of your fingers along your swollen opening. "i am, toru. it's already yours." your voice is all shaky and you do not sound like yourself at all.

you are all whiny and borderline desperate. you sound like you need to get fucked. you hurriedly tug your hand away to grip his face and press your mouth to his.

the slick from your fingers taints his skin and you hardly know how to kiss but satoru tilts his head to deepen it. he is a good kisser but you knew that already, you have kissed him before but never this exposed, never with this palpable tension.

he hums into your mouth, his hand cupping your throat as his tongue glides over yours. you feel like the saliva pools in your mouth, you suck on his bottom lip then you kiss him harder.

your fingers pull on his hair, your teeth gnashing. it is open mouthed and desperate. the kiss is all wet and sloppy and any time either of you pull back the other chases.

the other pushes forward to keep your mouths connected. wet smacks fill the room, his tongue claims every part of your mouth it already has and when you both lean back your chest is heaving

"fuck, oh fuck." you pant and your fists tangle in his shirt to pull him back in, your lips glide along satoru's, spit swapping and your cunt aching the more you kiss him.

you think you might give him your virginity this very moment.

his thumb strokes your throat, using his grip to draw you closer. your entire body is vibrating, you feel like every neurone in your system is firing off.

you whine, your mouth leaving his with a sticky smacking noise. "i think m'losing it." you breathlessly mutter, satoru drags his finger along your lips, smearing the saliva across the swollen flesh.

"i am too, you shouldn't have let me touch you. i won't be able to stop." you look so innocent, yet your hair is all messed up, your lips are puffy from kissing so aggressively, your cute little boobs are exposed and your pussy is so insanely wet, there is a wet patch through your shorts.

it drives satoru insane, how can you look like sin incarnate and still have innocence all over your face.

"i don't want you to stop." he groans at your admission, you need to stop before he is too far gone. you need to stop before satoru starts thinking about how the inside of your tight virgin pussy will feel. all hot, gooey and sticky. he just knows your leaky little fuck hole would take his shape so well.

he leans in to peck your lips, satoru needs to stop thinking. "m'not letting you suck my cock." you stare at him in disappointment. why are you doing that? satoru has half a mind to stick his cock in one of your holes and you are making it far too difficult not to.

his hands caress your hair, smoothening it down before he cups your face. he wants to bite your pouty lips and never stop kissing them at the same time.

"not today, not gna slip my cock in your tight baby throat and feel all those little muscles gripping me, no cause i want to eat up your pussy instead. i want to taste how sweet you are and stick my tongue in that virgin hole." your fingers paw at his body, feeling his hard stiff muscles beneath them. he tugs off your vest and you lay back as he reaches for the waist band of your shorts.

a deep sound rumbles in his chest when the material peels away from your cunt and he sees it for the first time.

"c'mon didn't you want me to see? spread your legs." and you do, without any fanfare. satoru's large palms coax along the back of your thighs before he cups under your knees to keep you open for his prying eyes. satoru wonders how long you had been thinking about showing him your hot sticky pussy.

he wishes you showed him sooner but he might have lost it since then. your cunt is dripping with slick, it leaks down your hole to your ass. you look all pink inside satoru wants to see it stretched around him, he wants to feel you gripping his cock and milking him dry.

"got such a pretty pussy, i'm lucky, so fucking lucky. my pretty girl is so gorgeous. look at this messy little hole, she's so wet, fuck." the tips of his fingers trail along your slit, collecting your wetness before he rolls your stiff clit. you jolt as he strokes your bundle of nerves. the mewl that escapes you is borderline pornographic.

he leans over to lap at your lips and then he is shoving his tongue in your mouth to roughly kiss you. his entire body is between your legs, he covers you completely. he is so big it makes you ditzy. he is hard and muscular all over.

when he is on you like this, all you can think about is how easily he could fuck you, it is all you want. you want him pounding into your pussy until you are brainless. he is so close he could take you right now if he pleased.

your hands tangle in his hair, trailing down his jaw and neck before you squeeze his broad shoulders. satoru moans into your mouth, propping his arm beside your head to crowd over you more.

your hips stuttering as he rubs your clit harder. you feel his bulge hitting the back of your thigh, hot on your skin beneath his clothes. you want to see it, you want to touch it.

"toru, i want to see you" a growl rumbles in his throat and he licks into your mouth. "take it off, please" you tug at his shirt, he does not want to stop kissing you. his expression is pained as he pulls away, hurriedly yanking off his shirt to reveal his narrow waist and the muscles all over his body.

you giggle when he shoves his pants down and almost falls over. he climbs onto you with an embarrassed smile on his face and blush coating his cheeks. "you laughing at me?" you hum. "cause you're cute and i like you." you brush the long hair away from of his forehead and wrap your legs around his narrow waist to tug him in.

when his covered erection meets your slit you both breathe heavily. "why didn't you take these off?" your finger prods the waistband of his boxers. your eyes are on his, the same ones that look like every sunny sky is held within them.

"i don't trust myself to not fuck you. if i take them off, you won't be a virgin for much longer." you shiver beneath him. that does not sound like a threat, it sounds like the solution to everything.

like something you need to keep breathing. satoru is big, every muscle in his body is defined, you can trace each one with your eyes. his shoulders, his abs, his biceps. you want to see how they flex and bulge when he is losing himself in your cunt. how they will pulse when he is fucking you.

he gropes your breasts, his tongue laving over your nipple before he sucks down on the perked flesh. your legs jerk when he thrusts his hips into yours. your stomach feels tight, you feel like there are too many butterflies within the small space.

your pussy leaks so much liquid it drenches the front of his boxers, it only makes it easier for him to hump away with your pussy. his bulky thighs are warm as they press into the back of yours to hold you open. satoru pants into your skin, you can see the ripple of his back muscles as he fucks his hips.

there are wet smacks of his cock colliding with your cunt, this alone feels so good, you know it would feel a million times better if he was actually fucking you. you want him to have you, you want the real thing. it turns your brain to mush, makes your cunt ache and your tummy tremble.

he is breathless when he kisses you, it is hard and sloppy. almost as hard as his cock grinding against you. it is thick and long, you want to have it in your hand, down your throat, inside you.

you never thought depravity would ruin you like this but it does and it is okay because satoru is the only one you will get like this for.

his hands desperately grip your cheeks and jaw. you moan as he pulls back to slam his hips particularly hard. hard enough to make your body jerk and your back arch.

"i want to eat you out. i need your pussy in my mouth, need to know how you taste." you whine, your nails dig into his nape, thighs squeezing on either side of his hips.

"anything, toru. anything you want." you mewl. the friction on your pussy has your head in a mess, more of a mess than the slick leaking from your untouched hole.

he presses his stuttering hips flush to yours, his hefty length digging into your cunt. "you don't know how much i thought about this, i used to rub my dick raw when i thought about getting my mouth on you. my tongue in you, wanted to smell and taste your pussy so bad."

he slowly kisses down your sternum, hands trailing over the heat his lips leave in their wake. his palms are so wide, just one spans your waist. just one covers the plane of your stomach. his mouth seems to water the closer he gets to your sex.

you tug your legs to your chest, your hands folded and resting over your mouth. you tense when satoru presses his nose into your slick and nudges the flesh. it is embarrassing, even after all you did, it makes you more flustered than you can explain.

"you smell like heaven, baby. fuck don't ever keep this cunt away from me." his tongue flicks out to lave over your buzzing clit and your eyes shut tightly. it is when he reaches your dripping hole does your body stiffen the most.

your toes curl as he licks you greedily, sucking at the sodden flesh. it is like he does not want to stop. he presses further, his tongue flattening over the expanse of your pussy as he licks it entirely.

"fuck, babe. your pussy's too perfect." his eyes flick upwards, they are blown out and predatory. he spreads your lips before wetly spitting a thick glob into you.

he drags it along your slit before plunging a finger inside. it is long and thick, a lot thicker than any of yours. you writhe at the intrusion.

"how am i supposed to fuck such a tight hole? won't be able to take it, i might just rip your cute little cunt apart." his mouth encloses your clit, sucking and licking as he fucks his finger into you. the pace he sets is fast and riveting, it has you moaning like a freaked up slut instead of a virgin.

you brokenly cry when he adds another finger and your insides are stretched more than they are used to. you can hear the soaked soppy noises of your hole being slammed into over and over, his slimy mouth on your clit.

it is so embarrassing. yet it feels so good, getting your insides stroked and having his mouth somewhere you never thought it should be made your entire body buzz.

his mouth wetly separates from your clit with a sticky pop. "you like that? yeah you do, got your pussy dripping all over me." he thrusts his fingers, deep and fast. like he has done it countless times before.

you dumbly nod your head, your insides squeezing his digits and your hips rutting to meet his movements. he pounds into your hole until the creamy liquid is dripping down his wrist and there are tears in your eyes. saliva webs in your mouth while you moan. he slowly pulls his digits out of you.

"you okay?" you hum, sniffling. your eyes trail along his glistening fingers, it is weird to think they were just inside of you. satoru looks at you as he kisses your abdomen, caressing your thigh before his tongue glides along your entrance.

the tip prods your cunt and you whine lowly when the hot slimy muscle finally sinks in, hips tilting at the strange sensation. he groans into your flesh, his jaw dropping to press deeper. the tip of his perfect nose nuzzles against your clit and your eyes flutter constantly.

your lids threaten to shut as his mouth drips saliva onto you and the muscle squirms within your gooey walls. the knot in your stomach pulls tighter and tighter, your thighs tensing at the sight of him bobbing his head between your legs.

your shaky fingers find purchase in fluffy white locks. the feeling of his tongue being pumped into you makes your mind go blank, it makes your mouth water and your insides tighten.

squelching sounds fill the room as he eats your cunt up. his tongue going so deep your vision blurs.

"toru, toru, toru." you did not realise you were moaning. blue eyes flick up to look at you, you who is so lost in pleasure your head is leaned back and your chest is heaving.

satoru thinks if he had to choose the happiness moment in his life it would be here, with you. you were intoxicating enough but having you like this meant he could never be without you.

your slick in his mouth drives him insane, he wants it on his tongue always, he could die happy if your pussy is the last thing he has. he sucks up your drenched hole before moving to your clit.

he laps at the mound, fingers filling your hole to replace his tongue. the faster he shoves into you the more you tremble, the more your body jolts and the tighter you grip his hair. they reach for his shoulders instead, nails digging into his flesh and it makes satoru think about you clawing his skin when his cock is buried balls deep in you.

your voice is all high pitched and whiny, your head writhes against the couch, hips bucking into his face. he does not give you a break, despite your moans being broken and shaky.

no, he slams his fingers into your creamy pussy, feeling your walls pulsing around him as he quickly thrusts into you.

your liquid splatters with the pace of his movements, his mouth alternating between sucking your clit and licking it up. your voice is all honey dew and dreamy when you cream.

satoru groans at the taste of your cum, still fingering your innocent hole as he laps at the evidence of your orgasm. your thighs tremble and you roll your hips into his face, breathless with the weight of your high.

satoru's jaw is covered with slick when he moves over you, his other hand still gently caressing between your folds after slipping out of your sensitive slit. "why do you know how to do that?" you mumble.

"i had to know just so i could do it with you." he flashes you the prettiest smile. you trace his jawline, your blurred eyes trailing over his messy hair, his lengthy lashes, his gorgeous eyes and the slope of his nose.

the pinkness of his lips is more swollen than usual and cum drips down his jaw. even so he lacked imperfections.

satoru pecks your cheek "you were so good, such a perfect girl." he presses his body flush onto yours, both of his arms hugging your figure.

your smile is flustered with his weight on you, you keep him as close as possible. you are overwhelmed in a good way.

you think you would do this countless times so long as it is with satoru. he buries his face into the crook of your neck and sighs softly.

"i don't think i could be without you." truly, he thinks it might break him. you press a kiss to his hair, your hand stroking down the toned bulked up expanse of his back.

"you'll always have me, toru." the sound that escapes him is something like a whine as he leans in to peck your lips.

"we should clean up." you slowly let go when he sits himself up. satoru's arm is resting along the back of the couch, one leg folded while the other rests on the tiled floor.

his dexterous hand adjusts his cock through his boxers. the thickness looks like it is struggling with the constricting fabric. your body feels lighter, the mess between your legs is a bit uncomfortable but you tug them to your chest and look at the male before you.

he is way too big, it makes you all tingly inside. like he could hurt you if he wanted to but he does not. like if he held you, his arms would be the most impenetrable fortress.

"what do you want to do after?" he leans his head back, his eyes turn to you and his adam's apple bobs. he is looking at you but you are staring at his evident erection.

the thin material of his boxers does nothing to hide the girth of his aching cock nor does it conceal the wet patch from his pre cum.

"so shameless." he slyly smiles, he reaches to nudge your chin but his resolve falters when your gaze flits between his crotch and his eyes and your cute little tongue trails along the seam of your kiss swollen lips.

he hopes you do not say what he knows you will because satoru cannot resist you. not a single ounce of him has the strength to refuse you.

"toru, i can take care of you too." his smile slowly drops and his mouth dries. his eyes go dark and he tilts his head.

"yeah?" he sees your little hands bunch into fists before you perch yourself on your knees and you lean closer to him.

satoru wants you this close forever, to always see, touch and have no matter what. your hair frame your face and your lips pouts with your words.

"if you want to use my mouth or anything else, you can." you are temptation. you are temptation in the form of an angel.

satoru swallows hard, he shifts closer to you, hands cupping either side of your head. he kisses your forehead before nuzzling your nose with his.

"today isn't about me, we'll do it another time." your eyes flit over his features, leaning in to peck his plush pink lips. you grips his wrists, stroking them.

"but i want to do it now, i really want to see it." satoru breathes heavily. he feels like there is no air in his lungs.

"okay." it comes out soft, you are too good for him. "i just need you to put something on if i'm taking my boxers off."

his large palm trails down your bare chest "you're too pretty, you're everything i want and i don't trust myself to not take you." you slowly nod before holding his hand. satoru follows you without a question, he would follow you to ends of the earth without any hesitation.

your bedroom is pink where your apartment is white everywhere else, it is like you were hiding all the colour in here. it is his first time in your bedroom despite the countless times you slept over in his.

you have plushies all over your bed, the sheets are pink, your fluffy pillows are pink, your closet is wide open and all that meets the eye is pink. your laptop, headset, desk. it is all pink.

you leave him beside your bed and he sits at the edge with an increasingly painful erection making his boxers tight.

his eyes trail over your room and he has to adjust his cock again. this should not be a turn on.

yet something about you, a pretty little thing like you touching yourself in such an adorable room, getting fucked by him in here.

the thought of him pressing your face into these pink sheets and rawing your cunt with reckless abandon. it makes him lose his mind.

he winces as he tugs his swollen cock. when you come back into his view, pink lacy panties are covering your pussy and the matching bra that conceals your tits makes satoru groan.

you draw closer to him and his large palms caress your hips. "now i know you wear cute panties." he jokingly says but there is a desperate undertone in his voice.

when you kneel down, satoru thinks he might be too turned on to think. he wants to keep you to himself.

your hand strokes along his happy trail before teasing the waistband framing his deep v line. he gently grasps your wrist, preventing you from going further.

"we'll leave the blow job for another day, okay? you can use your hand, i'll tell you what to do." you nod yet your eyes look all hungry. his abs tense, staring at your face as he tucks his thumbs into his boxers and tugs them down his thighs.

finally having his aching cock unrestricted has him grunting. your expression is so flustered yet you are pressing your legs together to dull that burning desire at the sight of him.

he grits his teeth, you are staring at it, from the pinkness of his swollen tip, to the dip where his head meets his shaft. the hefty girth with veins trailing down it, there is one particularly prominent one along the underside.

satoru wants to make you feel every inch of it inside, he wants to make you take his shape. maybe he is thinking too deeply, he jolts when your mouth surrounds the side of his ballsack and your little tongue is laved along it repeatedly. "don't- ohmfuck. okay, okay." he pants, fingers curling into his palms.

you need to stop before satoru shoves his entire cock down your throat without any care that you are gagging and choking on it. the gasp that leaves him is way too shaky. his tip goes past your face, it is over the crown of your head, it is too big for you. he is too big for you but he cannot not touch you.

he needs you like he needs air. he hums softly, he should stop you. he really should but he cannot when you are sucking at his balls. your little hands resting on his upper thighs and your mouth is draining him of any self preservation.

"you like it?" there is a sticky noise as your mouth pulls back, so much saliva on his skin. it is even webbed in your mouth.

"mm, you're so big toru." hearing those words in your soft voice makes his cock ache. he should not, he really should not but he needs to see it.

"keep that pretty baby mouth closed." he cups the back of your head, gripping his cock and squeezing it tightly before he presses it into your cheek. he curses, burning it into memory as he rubs his mushroom tip along your lips. his pre cum looks better than any lipgloss you own.

his fingers tangle in your hair to make you look up at him. having pretty little you, kneeling in nothing but laced panties chips away at satoru's restraint.

"want you to wrap your hand around it, can you do that for me?" you hum, when he lets go your fingers take his place. right around his base, your hand is so much smaller and so much softer. your fingers do not even reach around the perimeter of his cock.

his breaths are all laboured and hard, "don't put it in your mouth, just lick the head." his thumb strokes your cheek and you lean closer. your squirming slimy tongue trails over the slit and satoru throbs against the muscle.

"fuck, baby, you're so good at listening." he grips your hand to guide you up and down his length. "squeeze it a bit and move your hand like this." pre cum dribbles and he lets you do it on your own. it is jerky and unsure but somehow your hand feels so much better than his. he leans back on his arms, his hips moving slightly, his chest heaving and his dick begging for release.

"am i doing okay?" you mumble, begging for praise, feeling the ridges of his cock along your fingers while you slowly stroke up over his thick head and down his shaft.

the liquid seeping from his tip glides down along the sides and collects on your fingers, making it easier to jerk him off.

"more than okay, pretty girl. you're perfect." satoru's hand tangles in your pink sheets, the other reaching to tuck your hair behind your ear.

"faster?" you tilt your head, you are like a puppy. the cutest one ever.

"if you want." he grunts, when your hand starts pumping at his cock more, his eyes roll back. the muscles along his thighs flexing, all over his body in fact. he cannot help but fuck his hips upwards to meet your movements.

he is leaking incessantly, it coats your hand and it sounds all sticky and wet when you rub his cock. satoru curses, he feels like a virgin, maybe it was you, maybe it was your hand on him but it made his stomach all tight and his cock throb with no control.

you stroke at his base with a vigorous pace, your other hand surrounding his upper shaft and moving much slower. he jerks, teeth gritting when your tongue laves over the pinkness of his head before you take it in your mouth. it is so warm and wet, it makes him lose his mind.

your lips rest right before his shaft and the second you suck, satoru tightly grips the sheets, his head hanging and his jaw dropped to moan erotically.

"baby, baby what are you doing to me?" his unsteady palm caresses the crown of your head, petting you like the sight of his cock in your mouth does not tear him to bits. like it has not thrown him over the edge.

he wonders if you can feel him pulsing against your tongue. he wants to know what deeper in your little mouth would feel like wrapped around him.

"you're so fucking good, holy shit. never felt this good before." he groans and your eyes meet his, your wide innocent looking eyes despite how he has tainted you already. you look too pure for what you are doing.

"fuck m'gna cum. gna cum, take your mouth off baby." his hips stutter, muscles jumping. his toes curl into the fluffy mat beneath you both. you are still licking and wetly slurping around his head while you stroke his cock. the heated muscle of your tongue laving at his slit.

satoru's never came this quick before. his lids keep fluttering, he cannot stop groaning. his mind is too occupied with the thought of cumming in your mouth to stop you though he knows he should.

you keep touching and satoru has lost it already. he does not realise he is cumming in your little mouth until your hands have slowed down and you are teary eyed with milky liquid dripping down your jaw.

he curses. satoru is so sensitive and you are swallowing, why do you keep swallowing?

"baby, don't swallow. fuck, you don't have to." your hands shift to rest on his thighs, your brows furrowed and your little throat still bobbing.

you lean back and strands of cum are webbed in your mouth, still connected to his softening member. it drips onto the rug beneath you.

you sniffle, swallowing hard while you gaze up at him. your eyes are all glossy and pretty.

"i didn't think it would be that much." you are on your knees, right in front of him with your belly full of his cum, looking like the sweetest girl in the whole world.

you are his, you are all his. you have to be.

he cups either side of your face, leaning down to kiss you hard. he tilts his head, his tongue gliding over yours and the taste of his cum heavy in your mouth.

he reaches under your arms to lift you into his lap, nose nuzzling yours while he hugs you close. you are so much smaller you tuck right in along his large frame.

"i like you too much." he breathes into your shared air.

satoru cannot get enough of you.

11K notes · View notes

hoffmansgirl · 3 months ago

Text

match made in hell ━ father charlie mayhew ♰

❱ note: this is dirty and so long, i got so carried away...... might make a part two???

﹅ warnings: where do i start... nsfw content of course, blasphemy!!, unprotected piv sex, fingering, squirting, oral (m!receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, finger sucking, choking, slapping, hair pulling, creampie, mirror sex, they are soulmates <3

♡ requests for nicholas/charlie are so open! you ask and i deliver :) let's keep on feeding our delusions lmao

to say that she was a saint would be a complete misunderstanding. she realised that the first time she met him. the priest, devilishly handsome priest, to be exact, was exactly like her. and she noticed it immediately.

she didn't exactly expect a priest to be this young and this handsome. but what really caught her eye, was the soulless look in his eyes. she didn't know why, but she felt an immediate connection with him, as she sat in the furthest corner of the church, yet he still noticed her. hiding in the shadows, she sat, long, black hair falling freely onto her neck and back, short dress that made him rethink the church's dress code. her eyes glimmering with curiosity, as she listened to his sermon, or at least pretended to. she wet her lips, tilting her head, her eyes wide and devilish.

and then she noticed: his eyes lit up with passion and pure interest as he held her stare throughout rest of the mass.

charlie tried to explain the feeling that bloomed in his chest, but he couldn't. he has never seen this girl before, her every move was hypnotising to him. the way she tilted her head in wonder, her lips pickering just slightly, as she studied his face as if she was admiring him... it made his heart beat faster, his palms becoming sweaty, mind going blank.

the mass ended soon after, and charlie sighed in relief as people began to leave the small church. he then walked around the altar, blowing out the candles, his mind still wandering around the brunette girl, when a soft, melodic voice behind his back caught him off guard.

"hello, um... i'm sorry, father... i'm y/n", she started, pretty much relaxed, keeping her eyes on her hands. her voice like a psalm to him, his heart beating loudly in his chest, as he stilled, waiting for the right moment to turn around.

"i'm charlie", he shouldn't have said that. he should've kept it professional, but as soon as he turned around and his black eyes met her green ones, he felt that electricity go through his veins again. they were alone now, everyone has left the church, the silence comfortable for both of them. y/n looked up at the much taller man, the dim candle lights made his face glow, and she thought he was absolutely mesmerising. his full lips curled into a small smirk, his eyes following her every move, and she couldn't help but smile too.

"i have never seen you before, y/n", he noticed carefully, leaning against the altar, the veins in his hands popping out, and her eyes wandered on them for a little too long. she crossed her arms on her chest, the cold air hitting her skin with a sudden force, and she shrugged.

"the truth is, father... i want to confess. kind of", she hesitated, the big cross behind charlie's head making her question everything. god doesn't judge us, she thought, convincing herself. "maybe we could talk somewhere more... private? if you're okay with it", she corrected herself quickly, though her confidence never faded, even for a second. the determination visible in her eyes, and charlie got lost in her for a second, his own eyes sparking with something very unfamiliar to him. that was both exciting and... thrilling.

"whatever you need, y/n", he said wholeheartedly, "do you want me to drive you home?" the words left his mouth before he could think about them, and she opened her mouth in shock. pink blush adoring her cheeks, her lashes fluttering, the tension in her lower stomach getting more intense by each passing second.

"yes, i would very much enjoy that".

about twenty minutes later charlie and y/n pulled up by the girl's house. a comfortable silence was followed by a quiet sigh falling out of y/n's mouth.

"thank you so much, father", she whispered, eyes on his side profile, and she couldn't help but notice the way his strong, defined jaw clenched at her words.

"call me charlie", he replied simply, hands on the steering wheel, as he kept his eyes on the driveway.

"okay, then..." y/n breathed out, playful smile on her lips. "thank you, charlie", she corrected herself, and pressed her back against the passenger door. the corner of his mouth twitched, and his head turned to look at her.

she looked like a goddess, charlie thought, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of her creamy thighs on full display. her short and tight dress has ridden up her thighs, her hair slightly messy, but still shiny and silky. her boobs tightly pressed together because of the arms resting comfortably on her chest. and her face looked angelic. charlie was mesmerised by her beauty, the urge to touch her now stronger than ever.

"i shall keep going", he cleared his throat, voice slightly shaky as he spoke.

"do you want to come in?", the words left her mouth before she had the time to think it through.

charlie tilted his head and looked at her with a devilish look in his dark eyes. she smiled softly, and shifted on her seat slightly, her predatory gaze focused on his serious face.

"of course", he replied simply and opened the door on his right, leaving the car quickly. she got up right after he did, and they walked together towards her apartment.

she unlocked the door to her apartment and welcomed him in with a quick smile.

"feel yourself at home", she said softly, leaning back against the wardrobe in the interior. she watched him take off his coat, his muscles tensing as he moved around. she bit her lip involuntarily, unholy images in her head.

charlie complimented y/n's apartment as they walked towards her room, a bottle of french wine in her hand.

she closed the door behind them, and she pointed towards a chair next to her bed. charlie sat down comfortably, leaning back, his legs spread wide as if he was inviting her to come between them.

"let me get changed real quick", she said, looking at herself in the mirror. the tight dress sitting perfectly on her figure, but she was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable in it. she took off her platform shoes and looked at charlie, who was already staring.

he smiled slightly and closed his eyes to give her the possibility to change comfortably. but she reacted quickly, heart beating loudly in her chest.

"don't cover your eyes, charlie", her voice barely a whisper, and if it wasn't for the quietness of her room, he wouldn't hear her. but he most definitely did. he gripped the edges of the chair tightly, and his eyes opened, so did his mouth, charlie's breathing uneven.

"i really shouldn't", he said after a second or two. his purity ring glistened in the dim lightning, and he reminded himself who he was.

he took the vows. he wasn't just a man; he was a priest, god's messenger, but the urge to look at her was too strong. she smiled kindly, as if she was doing something completely innocent, but he wasn't fooled. she was a devil, sent by god to test his loyality to him. yet, he couldn't bring himself to care. his cock grew stiff in his tight dress pants, longing to feel a touch of another human, any ounce of self control leaving his body.

y/n turned toward the mirror and put her hair over one of her shoulders. "i need some help", she smiled, referring to zipper of the dress. charlie nodded his head and got up quickly, his muscular body now behind her as he stared at her in the mirror.

charlie, very slowly, let his fingers run through her covered back, and she shivered, her eyes closing just for a moment before they opened in pure bliss.

he pulled the zipper of her dress quickly, the material falling into the floor with a soft sound. she stood there, right in front of him in just a black, lacy, slightly seen-through underwear. charlie's breath hitched, his gaze more intense, as he shamelessly looked at her exposed body.

she bit her lip, her eyes meeting his' in the mirror, as she took a step back, only to lean against his hard chest. her head tilted back, deep sigh escaping her parted lips.

"you and me..." she whispered, keeping eye contact with him, while leaning further into him, her lips dangerously close to his neck. "we are the same. i could feel it the moment i saw you. the darkness inside of you..." she stopped for a moment, only to turn around, now facing him. yn's hands run over his chest, his breath heavy against her hands. "is fascinating. you are fascinating. and you're a sinner, just like me".

charlie bit his lip and looked in the mirror again. long black hair falling on her back in cascades and her perfect ass exposed only for him to see. his hands slowly travelled from her spine towards her arched lower back, and then he cupped her ass. she sighed, her hot breath tickling the skin on his jaw. charlie couldn't look away from the way y/n's back arched into his touch, and her head fell onto his shoulder.

"just like you, huh?" charlie chuckled lowly, his raspy voice sent a wave of arousal straight to her core. "or maybe, you're just a greedy little slut, ready to open her legs for me whenever i please?"

his words were followed by a sharp smack of his hand on her ass cheek, as she hissed loudly, devilish grin spreading on his face slowly. she stood on her tiptoes, brushing her nose against his, charlie's eyes fixated on her lips, as he smacked her ass again. this time, she whimpered. her eyes closed, body leaning into his touch, and a single moan left charlie's mouth at the sound of her.

with his hands still on y/n'a ass, he lifted her up easily, the bulge in his pants getting in contact with the thin material of her panties. charlie pressed her against the wall, her hands on his shoulders, as she challenged him with her eyes, the fire in his dark irises making her melt into his touch.

he closed the distance between them, and their lips met for the first time, and she moaned at the taste of him. he didn't rush, instead, he took his time to explore her mouth with his tongue, a strangled groan leaving his throat at the contact.

"you can deny it all you want, father", y/n's said breathlessly, but he didn't let her finish. his mouth was on her again, this time more demanding, intense and passionate, as he devoured her, soft, lewd sounds leaving both of their mouths, his fingers pressing into her soft thighs with enough force to leave bruises. "but you know i'm right. you might be a priest, but you're a really sinful one", she finished, charlie's mouth trailing kisses down her neck. y/n's eyes closed, her head falling back against the wall behind her.

obscene sound left charlie's mouth, her skin soft, and he carried y/n to her bed. she gasped in surprise as her back hit her soft, satin sheets; charlie standing in the foot of the bed, his eyes hungrily taking in the view in front of him.

"you are not a sin to me", he voiced, and y/n held her breath. a sincere smile on her face, as she took in the view in front of her. charlie looked wrecked, his cheeks red, lips slightly swollen, hair messy, a little smile adoring his face just right.

regret washed over her chest just for a moment, god is always watching. but as soon as father charlie fell to his knees, his hands pulling her to the edge of the bed with a swift move, her mind went blank.

he spread her legs wide, fingers pressing into her plush thighs, and he moaned at the sight of her. she was leaning back on her forearms, hair messed up, lips parted as she breathed heavily, and she let her hand touch his cheek softly, until her thumb met his mouth. charlie parted his lips, his heart thudding in his chest, his tongue reaching out to lick her finger.

y/n sat on the bed, her boobs now right in front of his face, as she inserted the finger into his mouth. they moaned in unison, and charlie's eyes fluttered shut, mouth closing around her thumb, sucking, licking and lightly biting at it.

her body shook as she watched the obscene scene, wetness coating her panties as his fingers dig deeper into her thighs, and yet another moan left charlie's mouth.

when y/n's thumb slipped out of his mouth with a "pop", he opened his eyes. he looked up at her desperately, and she smiled, her hand now resting on the back of his head, as she tugged at his hair roughly. charlie's brows furrowed, whimper left his mouth, his throat now on full display for her hungry eyes.

he got up from his knees as she gestured him to do so, and she led him to lay down on her bed, mouth immediately finding his, the hunger getting unbearable. charlie bit her lower lip, pulling at it, drawing blood from the little cut of his sharp teeth.

he greedily lapped at the red substance, the metallic taste making him moan into her mouth, as his hips thrusted into the air with shameless desperation.

y/n's fingers found the buttons of his shirt, and she undid them with surprising precision, her mouth finding his hard chest as soon as he took the unwanted material from his body.

"you're such a slut", he groaned as she sucked at his nipple, a simple tug at her long hair making her moan shamelessly. he smiled devilishly at the feeling of her tongue swirling against the hard bud, and he tilted his head back, hair falling onto his sweaty face.

"givin' god a show, aren't you? what would he think if he saw you? so greedy to please your priest, 's embarrassing, really", he mumbled, putting her hair into a makeshift ponytail as her mouth got closer and closer to the bulge in his pants.

unable to take it no more, charlie flipped them over so that he was towering over her, his gold cross necklace hanging in front of her face. he tore the bra off her chest, his fingers immediately pulling at the soft skin of her boobs, fingers twisting at her nipples with newfound confidence and roughness. y/n whimpered his name softly, back arching into his chest, her lips already in search of his own.

charlie spread her legs open, fingers tugging at her panties, and she let him take them off her body. her cunt now exposed, his hungry eyes taking in the sight of her perfect body, and he cursed, mouth falling open at the sight of her wet pussy.

"you're so fucking disgusting", he exclaimed, rough hands travelling down her body, down her hips, thighs, and finally reaching the place where she needed him the most. "getting all wet for your priest. don't you feel ashamed?" he asked rhetorically, fingers brushing over her puffy folds, and she squealed as he toyed with her clit, pressing tight circles into it. y/n whined, her hands on his back, pressing into his wounds with enough force to draw blood. charlie hissed, and suddenly two of his his fingers slipped inside her clenching cunt.

"you're so tight", he almost whimpered, the clenching of her cunt on his fingers making it really hard for him to control the urge to straight up fuck her. "how am i supposed fit in here, hmm?"

he withdrew his fingers out of her pussy, only to force them in with an aggression that had y/n clenching even harder around him. charlie pressed his hot mouth against hers again, and she was unable to kiss him back, her mouth falling open, and charlie laughed, moving inside of her slowly.

"you won't ever be touched by another man again", he hissed with such venom that her eyes fell open, vision blurring from the feeling of slow thrusts of his fingers inside her wet pussy. "you", thrust. "are", thrust, "mine", thrust, and he moved at a rapid speed now, keeping eye contact with her, and she cried out, nodding her head mindlessly. "mine to worship. mine to cherish. mine to fuck", his thumb found her clit, and she was oh so close. she cried out, and he gave her a dirty, open mouthed smirk, his thrusts never slowing. charlie's head leaned down, and his lips found her perky nipple, closing around it, swirling his tongue swiftly, matching the pace of his fingers inside of her.

"oh my god, please", she let out, eyes finally flattering shut, back arching into his mouth, and he tutted, his mouth and fingers leaving her body altogether.

she cried out in protest, but before she could speak up, he tugged at her jaw and squeezed her cheeks, her lips pouting. "if you want to cum, you have to beg for it, like the desperate little slut you are" the vulgar words leaving his mouth making y/n nod her head desperately, the grasp on her jaw making it hard to move.

charlie smiled at the pathetic look in her eyes, and freed her face.

"i'm sorry, charlie. please, touch me again. i need you. i crave for you━ fuck, please", y/n begged, and he obeyed, cruel look in his eyes as his hand travelled down her heaving chest, down her stomach and finally reaching its destination.

charlie's fingers pushed into her tight cunt again, and she muttered a quiet "thank you", her hands finding his shoulders for balance, as his fingers disappeared into her over and over again, and she cried out, tears of pleasure coating her waterline.

"yeah, just like that, charlie, please", she welled, holding him close, the intense feeling in her lower stomach different from anything she's ever experienced, and her eyes fell open. "charlie..."

he pressed her body into his with a single tug at her hip, pressing open open mouthed kisses on her neck, tongue darting out to taste at her sweet skin, teeth biting at every ounce of her body he could reach.

"it's okay, pretty girl", he whispered, fingers pressing into her g point again and again, her tight cunt spasming in a way that had him throbbing in the tightness of his pants. "make a mess for me", that was the confirmation she needed, as she let go, transparent liquid gushing out of her cunt with every withdraw of his fingers. slowly wetting his hand, pants, the insides of her thighs and the velvet sheets under them.

she tried to get away from his tight grasp, but he held her down with his other hand, and his nose pressed into her hair, breathing her in slowly, whispering sweet nothings as she came down from her high.

she gasped in relief as his thick fingers left her pulsing walls, and he tapped them on y/n's lower lip.

"suck them clean for me", charlie cooed, and her mouth took him in gladly, swirling her tongue around his fingers, and then sucked them in until they hit the back of her throat.

"just like that, just like that" he groaned, fucking her mouth with his digits, and she gagged, her pussy starting to tingle yet again.

"i want to see you cumming on my cock", charlie exclaimed, struggling with the button of his pants, and y/n helped him, pushing them down along with his boxers.

her mouth fucking opened at the sight of his cock, the view so astonishingly beautiful and overwhelming, gasp leaving her parted lips, and he just laughed as if it was nothing.

y/n thought it was unreal, that he was unreal, his whole body belonging in a museum. before he had the time to react, she flipped them over and straddled his hips, fingers scratching at his chest.

"you are so fucking hot", y/n breathed out as she slowly rubbed her clit on his hard cock, and charlie's eyes rolled back, fingers digging into the reddened skin of her ass. "i can't control myself around you. you drive me fucking crazy, charlie", y/n almost cried out, the desperation in her voice driving charlie crazy. her moves slow and sensual, her moves snake-like, long nails digging into his skin.

"stop teasing me, y/n. come on, let's give god a show, shall we?", charlie's voice strangled as he chuckled lowly, and y/n smiled cruelly, her lips wandering around his neck, collarbones and chest, biting at his soft skin, moaning at the taste of his blood.

"what would god say if he saw you like this? giving into the temptation, betraying his trust and the church you work in, hmm?" she mumbled, teeth grazing over the gold cross sitting prettily on his chest, and charlie hissed, eyes meeting hers again, her movements on his cock getting harder and needier.

"you are the best thing that's happened to me, ever", charlie whispered wholeheartedly and reached for his cock, giving it a few pumps before sliding into y/n's tight cunt, moans filling the thick air around them as she clenched on his tip uncontrollably.

"you are so big, my god", a single tear ran down her cheek, charlie's thumb wiping it in an instant. "you wanted it, so fucking take it".

as the words left his mouth, he snapped his hips up and she fell forward, his whole length stretching her out like nothing she's ever experienced. he throbbed inside of her, and a satisfied moan left his mouth at the wetness and warmness of her insides.

y/n clinged to him, pressing her breasts tightly against his chest, fingers squeezing on his strong arms. the feeling of his body against her own made her lightheaded, and she whimpered into his neck.

"i'm never letting you go", he exclaimed, and her eyes found his as she began riding his cock slowly, the stretch deliciously painful. "you are mine. now and forever. fuck, ride me just like that" charlie breathed out, the rasp in his voice making her more desperate, as she took all of him inside over and over again, hands pressing into his chest, head lulling back.

the rhythm she set was driving charlie insane as she watched her with half lidded eyes, shameless moans leaving his mouth at the sight of her perky tits bouncing right on his face. he looked down at the place where they connected. the slow movements of her hips allowed him to see the wetness coating his dick as she slid down on him again, and she swore she could feel him in her throat from how big he was.

"you're my match made in hell", she moaned and pressed herself against him again, fingers tugging at his messy hair, nose pressing against his. in the moment the atmosphere changed, and his eyes softened just for a moment, smile adoring his face as he tugged at her long hair, and his hips rising up from the bed, meeting hers. he started thrusting into her, fast and hard, her ass snapping against his thighs again and again. charlie's hands gripped at her waist tightly as he lifted her up just barely, the slight change of angle allowing him to move at a rapid speed. y/n cried out, not having any control of her body as he manhandled her. desperately, she smashed her lips against his, charlie's tongue entering her mouth instantly, and he moaned at the taste of her, and he thrusted again, again and again.

"i want to cum with you, charlie", she whispered, tears coating her face, smudged makeup making her look even more beautiful for him, as he bottomed out fully.

she welled when her cock left her, and the next second she was on her knees, facing the mirror in an instant. her eyes widened at the sight of herself, completely ruined and fucked up just for him to see. then she looked at charlie, his chest heaving with shallow breaths, as he pumped his cock behind her, the veins on his arms showing. "god, help me. you are gonna be the death of me", he hissed, his thick cock throbbing in his tight grasp. y/n backed herself against him, signalling that she wanted, no, she needed more.

"please, no more teasing," she begged, reaching for his cock behind her, but charlie was quick to stop her, smacking her hand away, as he aligned himself against her used hole once again.

"look at me", he whispered into her ear as his girthy length pressed into her tightness again, and she did, her head lulling back against his shoulder. he slowly moved in and out, every thrust precise, his soulless eyes staring into hers in the mirror, the sight making her clench around him. "you're fucking ruined for me, my beautiful girl, makin' me feel so good", he cooed, one hand landing on her lower back, pushing her upper body down onto the bed, the arch he created letting him hit that spongy spot inside of her over and over again. y/n cried out, his movements still teasing and unbearably slow, and her hips trying to buck back into him. charlie groaned with disapproval, his hand yanking at her hair roughly, her ass pressing tightly against his lower stomach.

"stop. fucking. moving", he hissed, voice like venom, and she nodded her head furiously, "i'm sorry" leaving her mouth over and over again like a prayer. her hand reached back to tangle itself in his messy hair, and she looked up at him, his eyes half-closed as he kept thrusting into her, and he let go of her hair only to wrap his fingers around her neck, pressing onto her pulse tightly. y/n cried out, and charlie's other hand held her jaw open slightly.

"open your mouth for me, just like that", he praised, y/n mouth fell open at the command, tongue lolling out of her mouth without a thought. and when he spit into her mouth, keeping eye contact with her during the vulgar act, thrusting into her harder than ever, she swore she could see stars. y/n swallowed his spit quickly, shameless moan leaving her mouth at the feeling of warm liquid, and in that moment she felt so deeply connected with him, and her eyes softened, heart aching for him as she got closer and closer to her climax.

"charlie, i'm gonna cum", y/n's voice came out strangled, his hand on her neck making it hard for her to breathe. her hands tugging at his own in search of closeness, and he took her hands into his much bigger ones, a single thrust of his hips making her fall down onto the bed again. he held her hands down on her lower back, his throbbing cock ruining her insides, and she screamed, burying her head into the sheets, finally falling over the edge.

y/n clenched around him, making it hard for him to move, and charlie hissed, letting go of her hands as he thrusted into her slowly, fucking her through her orgasm. he held back a whine threatening to leave his throat, dick twitching in search of release as she came down from her own, crying into the sheets.

"you're doing so good for me, y/n. i'm gonna cum inside your pretty pussy, and you're gonna let me, yeah?" his chest pressed against hers, and she was unable to reply, overstimulated and spent, his cock kissing her g spot repeatedly. charlie grabbed her chin, pressing his lips against hers, slowly and passionately, as he gripped at her ass and moaned, balls pressing into her clit as he clinged to her, finally letting go.

charlie whimpered into y/n's mouth as he came, painting her inner walls white with his cum, marking her as his for life. his body shook slightly, and she whined softly, the feeling of his cock filling her up immaculate.

charlie broke the kiss, pressing his face into the back of her neck tightly, his cock never softening inside of her, even after the soul crashing orgasm he just experienced. she smiled, the moment so important to her, and she reached out to run her fingers through his wet hair, and she's never felt more safe in her life.

after a few seconds charlie got up, his whole body tense as his throbbing cock left her spent hole. she whined at the loss, and then turned around to face him, barely being able to move, face flushed and covered in tears.

even though she had no energy left inside of her, the sight of his pretty cock, standing tall and proud in the air, covered in both of their releases, woke up something inside of her.

"lay down for me", she whispered, fingers brushing against his cheek softly, and he nodded, his scarred back pressing against the sheets again.

"your cock 's so pretty", y/n wrapped her hand around him, eyes filled with adoration, and charlie's eyes widened at the sudden intrusion, his head falling back involuntarily.

"holy shit, baby", he whimpered and let his hands roam against her thighs as she kneeled beside him. "'s too much", he cried out, submitting to her completely, the pain from overstimulation adding to his pleasure.

y/n cooed, and she leaned down, kitten licking at his tip, moaning at the taste of his pearly cum. "god, you taste so fucking good. i need your cum down my throat", she exclaimed, taking his tip into her mouth, and his hips thrusted wildly. y/n gagged, her desperate moan vibrating against his shaft, and he held her hair in a tight grasp, groan leaving his throat.

"you're perfect, god. where have you been all my life? holy shit━ i need this so fucking bad", charlie mumbled nonsense as y/n took him into her mouth fully, throat contracting against him, and he had to bit at his lip to physically stop himself from crying out. y/n's soft hands caressed his hips, and she sucked and licked at his pink tip as if he was a lollipop, her eyes falling open just to focus on his pretty face.

"i'm coming. god, i'm coming, please" charlie whined, and she nodded, sucking at his leaking tip with desperation, his cock twitching weakly as he thrusted into her mouth. warm cum filled her mouth, and she kept on sucking him dry as he came down, his body shaking terribly, endless moans leaving his mouth.

softly pulling away from his now softening cock, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, swallowing all of his heavenly cum, her throat sore.

she let herself fall next to him on the bed, his hands pulling at her soft skin with a need of closeness. he wrapped a protective arm around her shaking body, her head resting against his chest comfortably.

"you know, i meant everything i said", she said after a few minutes, tracing circles on his broad chest, smile never leaving her face.

"i know, baby. i know" he cooed, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead as she melted into him. "i meant everything too. you are so precious to me, so special", he whispered softly, warmness spreading across his body as he thought about the things they could achieve together, how she could help him with what he was planning.

and he wondered if her soul was as wounded as his own. the sickness of his mind, was she really ready to accept him just as he was? she won't have no choice, he thought, because she will be mine forever. no matter what it takes.

#nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez smut #nicholas chavez x reader #charlie mayhew #charlie mayhew smut #charlie mayhew x reader

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aouiaa · 5 months ago

Text

NOT JUST ANYONE’S | A. ANDERSON

warnings and disclaimers, (enemies to lovers), porn w plot (yay), a word count of 15k+?!, wlw content, mean!abby, jealous/delusional!abby, mentions of reader’s hair, abby being a book wormy, abby describes the reader as a goddess (once), fluff, angst, different povs, bullying, light workplace mistreatment, SEXUAL CONTENT, mean/softdom!abby, sub!reader, semi-public sex (hospital’s office), panties stealing, spanking, cunnilingus, fingering, hair pulling, masturbation, usage of a vibrator (once), scissoring, squirting, nipple play, degradation, body workship/praising, overstimulation, usage of pet names (baby, babe, pretty girl, good girl, dirty girl), cum eating, mutiple orgasms, DARK CONTENT, stalking, act of stealing narcotics, cursing, jealousy, alcohol/drug consumption, mentions of inflicting harm on others, acts of frame-up.

TAPE THAT MOUTH SHUT, this is probably one of the biggest/questionable pieces of art i’ve done. though it’s FINALLY fucking done idk how to feel honestly. i just feel like i have such an emotional bind to each and every piece of work i have done. this is my baby, the full nine months and everything, and now the world will see her for her. i feel like a mother watching her baby go off to kindergarten. :”(

ONESHOT PREVIEW | ABBY ANDERSON’S MASTERLIST

PRESENT TIME

saints mary’s hospital - 2:30 am on a saturday morning

the saying goes, “it’s not about how you start, it’s how you finish.” didn’t quite apply. time seemed to move in a blur, making it impossible to piece together a coherent thought. the room filled only with the echoes of your loud, wanton sounds mingling with abby’s, far removed from anything deemed professional. however you weren't concerned with those details, not at all. with the way abby was able to extract those sounds from your throat was almost painful.

almost.

abby derived an addiction from your pleasure. each moment of ecstasy seemed to fuel her further, driving her to amplify the tempo and depth of her ministrations. as the room filled with the lewd symphony of flesh meeting flesh and intertwined heavy breaths, something stirred within abby. something unfamiliar, uncharted. normally, she would exhibit unrivaled confidence during intimate encounters, but with you, it was different—more intense, deeper. a desperate craving to be perfect, to ensure you'd never seek anyone else, but her. she’d hate to admit it, but the realization gnaws at her: the longing for you even after this is over.

"who's making you cum tonight?" abby questioned the obvious, but her arrogance tone underlined the strong need for reassurance. your moans were her only response, and while she adored the sweet sounds, she craved more. a sudden shift in her fingers’ movements made you yell out, "you, abby.” your words punctuated by cries of pleasure.

abby's fingers, now confined within your tight grip, sensed the growing tension, the impending eruption, the imminent of your orgasm. "uh-huh, come for me," she ordered, "let me hear who’s making a mess of you."

the warnings of your impending release came with fervor, each thrust hastening to the inevitable snap of the tightening band in your abdomen. then when it did, a cry rang out, loud and clear, as her name left your lips in tandem with your essence painting her features. in this haze of euphoria, you suddenly find a sense of clarity, wondering how in all worlds did you end up in this situation, in the arms— or rather the mouth of your boss?

MONTHS BEFORE

saints mary’s hospital - 3:20 am on a monday night

the staff room was still mostly quiet, the faint sounds of a few muttered conversations and the soft hum of the fluorescent bulb created a low hum of background noise to complement the bigger situation in hand. you had just finished discarding your dirty gloves and discovered that some residue had clung to your uniform, prompting a soft groan of disgust to escape your lips.

you picked up another clean uniform and quickly changed into it, your mind wandering to the series of events that led you to this moment. working in a hospital meant dealing with a never-ending slew of new problems each day, some imprinting themselves in your memory more vividly than others.

and this time was memorable—at least for the night —for an aggravating sense. it was a vomiting incident in room nine that not only you witnessed, but you were also permitted to clean up after. fun, you thought sarcastically as you trudged your way with a bucket and sponge. nonetheless here you were, the aftermath, running a hand through your uniform to smooth out any wrinkles with your other hand on the doorknob, taking a long, exasperated intake prior to stepping out.

with a final exhale, you turned the knob and stepped out into the main hospital ward. the familiar sounds of hushed conversations and the constant hum of machinery filled your ears as you walked through the hallways.

with your desk in your line of sight now, your body starts to move faster as the thought of getting some much needed rest sets in. despite that, you took a quick glance around, searching for her presence, but finding no resemblance.

a sigh of relief escaped your lips as you settled into the plush chair, the cushions embracing your tired body. hands squeezing the pads provided on the arm’s office chair, this was heaven. but satan herself wouldn’t let that alleviation last for long, she never does. not in this hospital. your body suddenly tensed up and jerked forward as the sound of a hand slamming into the surface of your desk reached your ears. fuck, you thought, your head automatically turning to see the horned asshole with the little tail stuck up her ass.

“what the fuck was that back there, huh? i’ve had people complaining left and right.” she spoke, her face contorted with anger. you knew that was a lie, only there to further embarrass you in front of everyone. the “great” abby anderson was known to make something bigger than it actually was. but you’d be lying if you didn’t say that disruption left you breathless, seemed like all and any explanation that could clear your name left you, but even if you did, would it even work? or would abby deem it as a barely acceptable excuse, or quote “a three year old can lie better than you” excuse?

you could hardly breathe, your mind racing to try to explain yourself. every mistake seemed to be met with harsh criticism, and it was taking its toll on you. your voice wavered as you stuttered out a singular word in response: “what?”

abby’s expression only hardened further, her voice mocking your supposed ignorance. “couldn’t you see the medication you gave her was gonna result in nausea?”

each word was enunciated with sharp frustration, as if you were supposed to have known better, but you didn’t know. it wasn’t stated on the patient's file that she’d react like that. you followed protocol, knowing the consequences if you didn't, and followed through based on the information in hand. you weren’t in the wrong, and you explained that to abby.

though she didn’t seem to care at all, instead her words echoed through your mind like a painful reminder; you keep it up, and you’ll end up on your ass in front of this hospital.

her threat sent a pang of dread through you, and the loud thud of her office door shutting only added to your sinking feeling. you let out a heavy sigh, bringing your hand up to your eyes and rubbing them, trying to ward off the exhaustion and anxiety swirling within you.

your thoughts were interrupted as you realized the truth behind abby’s threat. you had a proven record as a dedicated and skilled employee, and deep down, you knew abby knew it too. there was a reason she couldn’t just fire you on a whim —she needed a valid justification to complete that pesky employee termination form sitting on her desk.

as you pondered on these thoughts, you let out a resigned sigh, the threat suddenly feeling less intimidating and more like a broken record you heard over and over again.

FIVE DAYS LATER

saints mary’s hospital - 11:01 pm on a saturday night

there was a newfound sense of comfort that accompanied your realization. although abby’s words still stung and cut deeply, you now had a silent reassurance— a knowledge that her threats were ultimately empty, that mere words could do nothing. your mind was now at ease, knowing that despite her harshness, she couldn’t truly harm you. the thought gave you a strange sense of power, even as she spewed her usual cruelty.

with your profound resilience, you found yourself feeling more lively and vibrant than before. you no longer fretted over every small mistake or worry constantly about doing your job wrong. your once reserved and introverted self now blossomed, making connections and building friendships where there had been none before.

amelia, the colleague who sat beside you for a year, but whom you had never truly spoken to, was now a friend, and the two of you formed a bond beyond just work-related interaction.

“darling, it’s wishful thinking that the inferno herself would let you off so easily,” amelia teases, the soft pads of her fingertips dancing along the keys of her keyboard. her familiar british accent rolls off and into your ear, making you scoff.

“it’s just for a day.” you mumble, your hands flipping the page to the never-ending paperwork waiting for you. you stop and look at amelia who’s now reclined in her chair, arms crossed with a knowing smirk.

“oh love,” laughed amelia, her playful jab at your wishful thinking only making her more endearing. “i’d love to entertain your rather ludicrous idea, but in doing so would be criminal!”

her words stung a little, you knew she was right, but hearing her say it out loud had you clenching your jaw slightly. abby would never agree to letting you take a day off from the hospital, it seemed like the whole place would fall apart without your presence.

and while it felt like an honor— at times. you longed for just one day off, a single day to rest amongst the countless days spent diligently working at the hospital. how criminal could that be? as amelia called it, you felt your shoulders sag and nodding quietly in resignation. your features must have betrayed your disappointment, as amelia swiftly noticed and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

amelia smiled sympathetically, her eyes soft as she saw your frustration. “cheer up, darling. it was just a quip.” she said softly, her tone filled with comfort.

you tried to hold back your tears when you spoke, your voice faltering as you looked up at amelia. “It's not that. i just… work my ass off, and don't even get the recognition i deserve.” your words trailed off as you let out a frustrated sigh. “and it's not like i’m just looking for that.” you pause to mend the right words together. “just some sort of break from it all.” you quickly sniffle, attempting to hide the tears that had escaped from your eyes during your confession. your embarrassment was evident as you turned away, trying to compose yourself. “god, i’m sorry for this.” you sighed heavily, reaching for a tissue to wipe away your tears.

amelia pats your shoulder, her voice filled with understanding. “no, no, i get it, darling. you need a break as much as anyone does in this bloody facility. perhaps more than hamburger-munching samson over there.” she quips, referring to a less than efficient employee.

you let out a tearful laugh, your grin still tinged with sadness. “yeah.” you agreed, your voice heavy with resignation.

amelia smiled warmly at your smile, her hand giving your thigh a comforting pat. “go ask her, and if she doesn't oblige, tell her i'll cover for you.”

her sweet words of offering to cover for you had you fighting back tears again, determined to not further burden her with your crying, and managed to let out a shaky chuckle.

you try to protest, feeling a pang of guilt for potentially inconveniencing her. “you don't have to do that.” you say softly.

however, amelia is resolute, dismissing your objections with a firm, yet gentle push. “no darling,” she replies firmly. “i don’t, but i want to. now go on.” her insistence is unwavering, and you can see that she will not take no for an answer.

with a resigned sigh of “okay”, you straighten your shoulders and approach the entrance to abby's office. a quick glance back at amelia sees her raising her thumbs in a gesture of encouragement to go ahead. you return a grateful smile before turning back around and lifting your hand to knock on the door. but before your knuckles make contact, the door swings open, revealing abby.

you freeze in surprise, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of abby before you even had the chance to knock on the door. you realize you must look like a fool, standing there frozen with your arm raised in the air. feeling a sudden pang of self-consciousness, you quickly lower your arm and bring your other hand up to cup it gently, almost as if you could somehow conceal your awkward position.

abby’s smile catches you off guard, surprised to see her display such genuine happiness at your surprised arrival. "oh—there you are.” she says.

you stand there, slightly confused by her unexpected demeanor. her next words, spoken calmly, further perplexed you: "come in." this gentle tone is unfamiliar coming from her, as she's never used it with you before, reserving it only for the presence of supervisors.

she leaves the door open for you, a silence gesture for you to enter before taking her seat at her desk. "i was going to call for you, but it seems like you heard my call telepathically." she quips, chuckling at her own joke.

you internally scoff at her stupid joke, quietly shutting the door behind you as you enter her office. "well, don't just stand there, sit." she instructs, her smile still uncharacteristically cheerful— almost eerie. you can't help but wonder if this is all just an act, a facade that will undoubtedly crack like it always does, given abby's fiery nature. however, you comply silently, watching her sift through documents on her desk.

you struggled to keep yourself from asking what she was searching for after you caught a glimpse of it being the employee files. your heart began to race as an oppressive silence enveloped the room, fueling your nerves. was she looking for your file? was this gonna be the moment when she’d reveal the anticipated reason to use on that dreaded employee termination form? your mind swarmed with questions, each more pressing than the last. how much more can you deal with this suspense looming over your shoulder like the grim reaper.

you attempt to speak in a firm tone, but your voice betrays you, wavering at the edges. “why are you so happy?” your own curiosity battling with a sense of reluctance to hear the answer.

“and why are you so gloomy?” she taunts with a smirk, chuckling. “put a smile on that face for me, yeah? you’re gonna do me a big favor.” she admits, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as she mentions the word “favor.” finally finding the paper she had been searching for, she slid it across her desk in your direction. the paper contains the resume of someone you’re unfamiliar with, and your curiosity piqued.

"this is cassidy mcclair," she pauses. "and you'll be her mentor for the week. she's the new replacement nurse after what happened to poor old sadie." a pang of irritation stabs at you as abby uses a condescending tone when mentioning sadie. her untimely demise still weighed heavily on your mind.

you inadvertently let out a scoff as you cross your arms, immediately regretting the impulsive action. abby glances up at you, arching her eyebrow before speaking.

"is there a problem?" her question rhetorical, signaling her indifference to your potential objection. however, you're determined to express your feelings, regardless if rhetorical or not. you werent gonna give some half-ass smile and nod. after all, it wouldn’t be the first time your opinionated mind got you into trouble, as abby so often reminded you.

you respond with a defiant tone, your words clearly expressing your dissatisfaction. “yeah, there is actually.” you retort, your arms remaining defiantly crossed. “you’re supposed to do this. not me.”

abby chuckles at your boldness, her expression growing serious as she responds, “that was rhetorical, surely anyone with a hint of common sense would catch on. frankly, i don’t give a fuck if it is.” she dismisses your argument, beginning to organize the documents on her desk, grabbing the paper in front of you without sparing an eye, her attention now focused elsewhere. despite your differences, you remain silent, yet seething within at her dismissive response.

“be here at eight pm sharp on monday.” she adds, ending the conversation on her terms.

so much for a day off..

AN HOUR AFTER

hospital’s break room - 1:17 am on a sunday morning

after your unsolicited meeting with abby, your emotions were overflowing and the need to confide in someone was at an all time high. though the term 'confide' may be a stretch, considering you practically unloaded your frustrations to the mere mention of "hey, heard you had a meeting with the boss?"

“she didn’t even let me speak, once!” you exclaim, frustration seeping through each and every word, punctuating your sentence with lifting your pointed finger.

talia responds with a sympathetic tone, saying, “she tends to do that..” her words trail off, and you can almost feel the strain in her voice, knowing that she’s the unsuspecting recipient of your pent-up frustrations.

“right! god, she’s so fucking…” you trail off, trying to find the right word to describe her. “infuriating!” you say louder than anticipated.

she looks up from the coffee maker, surprise etched on her face as other heads turn towards you, startled by your outburst. you sheepishly mutter an apology before letting out a dejected sigh. trying to lighten the mood, you force a smile and lean against the counter. "so, have you had to do any of abby's dirty work too?" you quirk an eyebrow.

the long haired girl chuckles at your antics, her gaze fixated on the coffee maker as it slowly fills her cup with the dark, yet energizing substance. she turns her attention back to you, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "yeah, actually.” she replies, her voice filled with good-natured sass. "but she made the task sound much kinder when she assigned it." she jested.

you jokingly say, "oh, fuck you," to which she responds with a playful eyeroll, but then curiosity takes over. "but really?" you ask curiously. "how'd it go?"

a dreaded sigh escapes talia’s lips as she recounts her memories of being assigned to mentor a new employee. the mirth vanishes from your expression as she begins to share her experience, the once lighthearted atmosphere replaced by a sense of foreboding.

“oh, terrible," talia responds through the sigh, her laugh edged with strain before looking back at the coffee maker, which is about a quarter away from being done. "sometimes, i wondered what would be inside her head if i were to cut it open. a brain made out of putty, or no brain at all?" her words make you wince as you begin to imagine what your own experience might be like. the idea of being a mentor to a complete idiot was less than appealing.

talia takes notice of your nervousness and quickly tries to reassure you, saying, "but i assure you, your experience won't be like mine." she offers a nervous smile, hoping to alleviate your concerns.

you respond with an uneasy chuckle and a reluctant "yeah.” not truly convinced by her reassurance. you know that only time will tell if her words will hold true, and so you find yourself resigned to the fact that you'll have to impatiently wait until monday to find out.

THREE DAYS LATER

your home - 6:03 am on a monday morning

the incessant blaring of your alarm felt like background noise for the past three minutes, though you've been wide awake for about ten minutes prior to its start. last night, sleep eluded you, as anxiety and exhaustion plagued your thoughts. you had hoped that your previous activities on your day off would tire you and help you sleep, but unfortunately, that was not the case. you had laid awake for an extra hour, struggling until sleep finally took over.

your anxiety, semi-dissociative state can be attributed to your "big day" ahead, as abby had nicknamed it. the thought of the unknown had you sweating bullets. not to mention, your boss’s words that stayed with you like crazy glue, stubbornly stuck in your mind. with reluctance, you forced yourself out of bed and into the bathroom.

as you turn on the faucet, the soft meows of your kitty-cat, charles, reach your ears. your face lights up with a smile as you turn and spot him. you kneel down, showering him with a few gentle pets as he responds with a pleased purr. "hey, buddy," you whisper, planting a kiss on his head. you then stand up to check the water temperature, only to huff in frustration when it doesn't meet your desired level. turning to the kitty by your side, you murmur, "i know, bud. lemme feed you while i wait for the water."

the kitty yowls eagerly and paws at your legs, anticipating its food. you repeatedly tap the can's bottom against the bowl until the food finally falls free, landing on the plate. the cat's excitement escalates as it watches you kneel down to place the plate on the ground. chuckling, you observe the kitty pounce on the food as soon as it touches the ground.

“eat up, spud.” you give your feline friend one last pat before walking away to the bathroom. you undress and check the water's temperature once more, finding it to your liking. with a satisfied nod, you step inside, letting the hot water wash over you and momentarily rinse away your worries for today.

AN HOUR AND HALF LATER-ISH

saints mary’s hospital - 7:28 am

what was meant to be a calming shower had obliterated your sense of time, leaving you in a scrambling to finish your morning routine. with a start, you realize it was nearly seven-thirty, and sprung into action, throwing your clothes on at an almost superhuman speed. you had never dried your hair this quick before in your entire life. yes, abby had mentioned to be there at eight, but you knew that translated to "be there before eight."

you arrive at the hospital just before eight, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, knowing all too well that you wouldn't make it through the day without it. you quickly exit the elevator, stepping into the lobby to find abby engaged in conversation with a red-haired woman.

the ginger had her hair braided, resembling abby's but with more volume. her fair complexion was adorned with freckles, resembling a sky full of stars. like many others on this floor, she wore a blues-and-white uniform, with a small cat pin attached to her shirt pocket. her colorful keys hung around her neck, and her radiant smile oozed an infectious energy, effortlessly drawing a reciprocating smile from you as you approached.

your smile momentarily falters as you overhear abby's sarcastic, yet condescending tone. “oh, there's the princess!" she exclaims, closing the distance to you with the woman following suit behind. this must’ve been the woman abby was talking about, leaving you feeling increasingly anxious, your eyes locked on the girl behind her. however, abby manages to draw your focus as she speaks up.

“this is cassidy. the one i told you about the last time we spoke.” she says firmly, bringing her hand up to her shoulder and beckons her toward you.

“hi.” you say shyly.

cassidy reciprocates the greeting with a wave, her expression a mix of nervousness and surprise. however, before she can respond, abby cuts in, with a tone of sarcasm. “i trust you won't be as late as our little princess here was," she says, referring to you, causing cassidy to nervously laugh and answer with a tentative "no."

your frustration peaked as you clenched your fists, your anger evident. It was clear what abby was trying to do once again, to twist the truth and make you appear worse than you actually are. she smirked, seemingly enjoying your irritation, before patting cassidy on the shoulder and wishing her good luck.

with the condescending smirk, abby leaned in to whisper in your ear, her tone different, dripping with sarcasm. "good luck, princess." and with that, she walked away, leaving you to face the challenge ahead.

"cunt," you silently say to yourself in annoyance, sending a glare at abby's retreating form. after a moment, you plaster on a forced smile and turn your attention to the ginger girl in front of you. you extend a hand and saying, “hi, i’m y/n."

"hi, i’m cassidy, but you already know that," she laughs, taking your hand in hers and shaking it firmly. after releasing her grip, she absentmindedly begins to stroke her braid with the same hand, a subtle fidget that seems to be her go-to anxiety coping mechanism.

you smile, genuinely impressed by her hair color. “yeah, i love the color of your hair, by the way. it's beautiful.” a hint of bashfulness washes over cassidy's cheeks as she responds, "thank you, it's my natural hair."

you let out a soft "cute..." as your eyes dart over her vibrant locks before gathering your thoughts. "well, let's get to work," you sigh, beginning to walk over to your desk. cassidy quickly follows, and upon reaching your desk, you set down your things and greet amelia with a friendly smile. you then turn your attention back to cassidy, clipboard clutched in your hand.

“alright, just follow me this way.” you lead cassidy through the hospital floor, providing her with a tour of the different departments. while the tour starts off awkwardly, you and cassidy manage to strike up some small talk. despite her quiet demeanor, she proves to be a hard worker, efficiently tending to her tasks. you can relate to her reserved nature, knowing firsthand how it feels to be somewhat introverted.

FEW HOURS LATER

hospital’s break room - 12:40 pm on a monday afternoon

after having cassidy follow you around like a lost puppy, occasionally taking notes on her little cat shaped notepad when needed. you both sat in a corner, eating in comfort silence. amongst the normality, you couldn’t help but notice her lunchbox also in a cat-like shape. a soft chuckle escaped you, causing cassidy to look up from her food, her chewing briefly stopped to ask, “what?”

you point out the box which promptly makes her look down, mouthing “oh.” cassidy chuckles nervously, her cheeks tinted with a hint of embarrassment. "i suppose i’m a cliché," she admits, her smile widening. "it’s no secret now that i enjoy girly things.”

you nod, a smile playing at the corners of your lips in response. "i think it's cute." you utter with a slight smirk.

cassidy grins, a hint of self-consciousness in her expression. "you don't think it's too silly?" she asks, seeking validation.

"nope," you reply sincerely, “everyone has their own interests. who am i to judge?" you shrug, emphasizing the point.

cassidy chuckles again, playfully teasing you with her next words. "i'd beg to differ." she pauses for a moment, before continuing, "dr. anderson seems to be quite interested in you." her tone implies a hint of a tease, suggesting that abby's fondness for you may be noticeable to the people around you.

as soon as cassidy suggests that abby has a soft spot for you, you sputter and cough, practically choking on your food. between gasping breaths, you manage to exclaim, "what?! you definitely need your eyes checked!"

cassidy's eyes widen with concern, and she begins to pat your back to help you through your coughing fit. after regaining your composure, you nod, trying to play it cool as she asks if you’re alright. your voice is still strained when you speak, "i’m fine, but what makes you say something like that?" you ask, completely bewildered.

once she's assured that you're okay, cassidy begins to chuckle lightly and leans back in her chair, arms crossed in a confident stance as if she solved the equation pi in her one sitting. "i’ve seen the way she talks to you," she says, low and soft, smirking.

“yeah, she talks like she has a stick up her ass.”

your blunt comment about abby having a "stick up her ass" makes cassidy erupt into laughter. "yeah, that's—that’s definitely true," she concedes, still giggling, "but there's also… a passion behind it." she pauses before continuing. “It's like she does it out of love or something," her eyes fixed on you.

you let out an amused sigh and roll your eyes, responding with a playful retort, "yeahh, I don't know about that." you can't help but chuckle as you continue, "but, that’s definitely crazy talk." you tease, a hint of mirth in your voice.

cassidy laughs, feigning surrender by holding her hands up in a playful gesture. "hey," she says, a toothy grin plastered on her face, "i know what i'm seeing." she retorts.

you continue to eat, a scoff escaping your lips as you try to dismiss her earlier accusations. "you saw a bunch of nothing.” you remark, keeping your tone nonchalant. cassidy responds with a soft scoff of her own, but the silence that follows is strained, uncomfortable, well at least for you… you think.

your mind drifts back to all the times you've interacted with abby, a strange feeling beginning to grow inside you. there were no signs, no hint of anything more than anger and hatred, right? no itty bitty details so unmissable to others, but you? no, it couldn’t be, that’d be ridiculous, hell, every it'd be a synonym in the book ridiculous! there were never any crossovers besides hatred, a mysterious hatred, but hatred nonetheless. come to think of it, you never really found out why she hated you so goddamn much. was it envy? fear? if so, of what exactly?

whatever the case was, it doesn't matter. because you would fucking pay to see her at your mercy. beneath you with a look of hopelessness glistening in her eyes, for it to be her to struggle to utter a simple explanation, only for you to completely demolish the right of speaking. to watch that stupidly neat braid disheveled and her oh so infuriatingly muscular arms that seemed to taunt you, begging to be popped like a balloon.

yeah… you definitely hated this woman.

SIX MONTHS LATER

front desk - 1:30 pm on a wednesday afternoon

gathering any loose strands of hairs from the nape of your neck with one hand, you create a makeshift ponytail, struggling to keep a straight face as cassidy’s stifled laughter resonates nearby. you playfully chastise her, trying to suppress your own laughter.

“stop laughing,” you admonish, your attempt at a stern tone is undermined by your own stifled giggles. “you’re gonna get us caught!”

as luck would have it, you and cassidy had bonded over an unexpected shared interest— a love for plants. and they say that a mother’s life is over when they have kids. quite literal bullshit if you ask anyone with a brain. cassidy, besides being nature’s supporter, was also incredibly humorous, her wit and humor made work a little more bearable.

over a few rounds of cold beers, she had discovered abby’s mysterious hatred for you. her curiosity knew no bounds, weaving theories on why, but never truly connecting the dots. from that point on, she couldn't resist teasing abby when she erupted into her typical outbursts—episodes she jokingly dubbed "hissy fits." just a few weeks ago, she had been assigned to work the counter beside you after amelia went on maternity leave.

"check this one out," the red-head chimes, tilting her phone towards eyes’s view to reveal a piece of media from abby’s instagram. cassidy, as if being a FBI agent was her second job, didn’t break a sweat looking for abby’s entire life online the moment it was plausible.

now, knowing who to call, you glance to see a photo of the blonde with her usual serious expression. the framing itself is taken from an awkward angle. “she’s so stiff, like a damn statue.” she laughs.

you let your hands fall once successfully securing your hair in a bun, a chuckle escaping your lips. "not a bad-looking statue, though," you remark casually, shrugging your shoulders. a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you added, "maybe she should start a new career as a model. the 'stiff but stunning' look could be all the rage."

cassidy quirks an eyebrow your way, a mischievous gleam in her eye as she teases you, “oh, am i sensing something here?”

you respond with a scoff, hastily denying any such notion with playful push. “god, no!” you exclaim, feigning offense, your laugh mingling with her own.

amidst the laughter, your moment is abruptly interrupted by the overwhelming waft of a potent perfume that assaults your senses. immediately, you recognize the scent and dart your gaze towards its source—abby’s new assistant. wearing a top brazenly too small for her ample cleavage with an extravagant makeup job tailored for a circus clown, it's painfully obvious whom this performance is intended to impress.

fucking ‘asshole’ anderson. It’s a pity really; she’s a decent-looking girl, but a relentless ass-kisser. everyone in the hospital picked up on her antics pretty quickly, constantly trying to win abby’s favor. rumors speculated, suggesting they did more than just work together, but hey, they’re just rumors.

“you should be working, abby wouldn’t like this.” her grating voice rings out, dripping with unwarranted confidence.

“we’re on our break, alexa.” you reply coolly, not bothering to mask the distaste in your expression.

she theatrically glances at her watch and purses her lips, stating smugly, “not anymore.” her gaze flicks to you, a smirk playing at her lips. it takes every ounce of restraint you possess not to grab her by the hair and slam her head against the wall. instead, you listen as she adds, "i should be informing abby about this,” she emphasizes with her hand, going in a circular motion towards you and cassidy before finishing. “but she's requested your presence in her office right now."

you stare at her, bewilderment etched across your face. abby? needing you in her presence? the confusion can’t linger long when she impatiently snaps her fingers.

"chop, chop, she doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” she prompts, her tone dripping with condescension.

fucking bitch.

"you said you needed me?" you inquired, poking your head through the door’s open crack.

"yes, shut the door and take a seat." she affirms, witnessing firsthand the intentitive— almost obsessive behavior driven by a need to be perfection itself. her eyes don’t move from the paperwork at hand, but there’s no need for her body language and demeanor is a revelation on its own.

her stoicism matched almost flawlessly, as if they had been meticulously practiced in the mirror—akin to a morning ritual, like a cup of coffee. and her physique? it’s a memoir to resolution, sculpted from the divine hands of a deity, making you wonder: how could a person be so flawless? is she a forsaken angel, once god's favorite, now cast away from grace?

her voice, now with a hint of a crisp clear edge, breaks the silence, stating firmly, "i need to discuss something with you." her arms are now visible, resting on top of her desk, hands neatly folded together, an action that seizes your attention like a magnet. was this beautiful “angel” of a woman merely toying with you, masquerading as a jester with deceptive tricks?

nervously, you lick your dry lips and nod, responding with a strained voice, "yeah?" she picked up on that.

her eyes narrow with curiosity, and she leans forward, her voice laced with suspicion as she queries, “tell me,” she begins, letting the question linger in the air for a moment. “why do you still waste time with cassidy?” her tone carries a note of mild disdain. “she’s a bit.. odd, don’t you think?”

within the span of a moment, a wave of frustration surges through you, compelling you to argue your case. however, you find yourself inexplicably entranced by her features, unable to break the spell that has woven its way around your thoughts. nodding without conscious thought, your gaze is transfixed on the magnificence standing before you— the artistry of her face and form.

the sun's warm glow streams through the windows just behind her, casting a radiant light upon her as if nature itself were emphasizing its own masterpiece. every detail of her appearance is meticulously crafted, like a tempting apple dangling in front of the unsuspecting. a loose strand of hair falls gracefully in front of her face, accentuating the fine features of her facial structure. the angular lines of her nose seem to carry the weight of her sharp-edged spectacles, and her eyes, often lacking warmth, rarely seek solace in anything but themselves.

the sinew, a testament to the muscularity of her arms, even beneath the loose confines of her doctor’s coat, as if they were destined to stand out, to be admired. the way she held her pen moments ago makes it seem almost insignificant in comparison to her thick fingers, wrapped around it like a vice. her penmanship is impeccable, smooth and faultless, as if her hand is a perfectly calibrated machine.

god’s greatest gifts bestowed on its worst creation alive.

"are you even listening to me, right now?" she questions, her jaw setting tight.

startled, you snapped out of your reverie, blinking to moisten the dry eyes that had forgotten to blink in their fixated state, you confirm. “yes.” no.

“i asked you a question.” she snaps, her voice stern.

“what was the question?” you stammer, feeling flustered under her intense scrutiny.

“why—forget it.” a sudden shift in her expression indicates a change of mind. it seems the words didn’t sound as smart when she voiced them aloud.

“what?” you stutter, leaning forward in your chair. “what were you going to say?”

“i said, nevermind,” she replies, her tone firm and dismissive. “you’re free to go.” she averts her gaze from you, redirecting it towards her paperwork, as if you had suddenly become unimportant and unworthy of her attention.

you’re left dumbfounded, what was that about?

FEW HOURS LATER

your bedroom - 3:20 am on a thursday morning

your sharp gasp and the tension in your body were palpable, confined to the bed where your body lay cushioned. a hand ran through your hair before tugging it tightly, adding to the pleasure that coursed through you. the serene hum of your vibrator, nestled between your legs, was a poor substitute for the fantasies that danced through your mind.

your guilty pleasures, your secret desire.

“oh, abby!” you moaned, the broken syllable laced with longing. images of her flashed through your mind, your body yearning for the warmth of her fingers instead of the cold, mechanical pleasure your toy provided. the thought of being stretched by her strong, capable hands was all it took to push you over the edge.

a wave of ecstasy crashed over you, your body shaking as you orgasmed, the fantasy of abby's touch more potent than the reality. the intensity of your pleasure left you breathless, even as you knew it was only a fleeting escape from reality.

as your mind snaps back, an overwhelming rush of realization washes over you. you toss aside the vibrator, sitting up with a sigh. you can’t help, but feel shame towards yourself. the thought of your boss—the one person who makes your life a living hell—occupies your thoughts. how could you even entertain the thought of her?

a fallen angel, huh?

SAID “FALLEN ANGEL”

abby anderson

she was fucking on one today, and in return she thought you were too. her mind was consumed by you. even the morning coffee, always a comfort, tasted bitter and cold. she didn't even acknowledge the usual flirtatious advances from her assistant when she greeted her this morning. instead, she simply asked for her requested files and retreated to the sanctuary of her office, locking the door behind her.

it was always you, stirring up trouble by merely existing near her. cassidy mcclair, that braid-wearing copycat bitch, had you wrapped around her serpentine fingers. and you? you should have known better than to waste your precious time with people like that, but there you were. in fact, compared to these idiots you had to call coworkers, you were leaps and bounds above them.

you were just making a mistake, a mistake that was costing her sleep— more than she already doesn’t get.

she silently fumed as she stood in front of her office door for her daily check on what everyone was doing, over the years making mental lists of the flaws of each employee. amelia, didn’t know if she was bleating or laughing, and those killer front teeth— literally. one glance and someone’s head would be off. then there was samson, who seemed to do nothing, but shove burgers down his gargantuan throat. she was convinced he never even bothered to chew.

it was laughable, and she could go on and on about the flaws each one of her employees had. but you, well, not a single flaw could be attributed to you. not one mentioned on any list of the many she had. in essence, you were the embodiment of a boss's dream employee—quick on the case, a good sport, but until now, there was one flaw that had eluded you: the habits of hanging around the wrong people.

granted, it's not like cassidy was forcing drugs down your throat, but it was clear she was trouble. competition, that had to be eliminated. but one might wonder, why? why did abby have such a deep-seated grudge against you? why did she feel this burning urge to take you down? just like a pack of wolves, having her sights set on the weak link, ready to pounce.

deep down, abby didn't fully understand her intense feelings towards you. each attempt to articulate her emotions only led to frustration as they were often misinterpreted in the delivery. you made her nervous in a way that was both understandable and utterly perplexing, leaving her with feelings uncharted. in a desperate attempt to maintain control, she decided the best course of action was to keep her fondness for you hidden. surely, as long as you remained oblivious to her affections, there would be no complications, right?

she’d pledge that promise to the death, do everything to her power to keep it this way. there would be no vulnerability, no broken hearts to be on the mend, even if meant being cruel. but when cassidy came and first laid her eyes on you. oh, how she wanted to claw her eyes out just for even staring at you for a millisecond long.

it infuriated her to see how easily cassidy could evoke laughter and smiles from you, things that abby denied herself. many long, self deprecating nights filled with overflowing ashtrays of spent cigarettes and a collection of empty whiskey glasses were becoming too often to be called a casual drinker.

the day she requested your presence in her office, and sat across from her as she filled out the paperwork to transfer cassidy to another floor was a moment of triumph. however, her satisfaction evaporated rather quickly—leaving her dry to the bone. throughout the entire conversation, you appeared to be dazed, barely registering a word she spoke. had she been too late? were you already so smitten with cassidy that you couldn't even comprehend a word coming out of her mouth?

was it already too late?

after you had left her office, abby found herself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts. alone with her musings, her mind raced, and suddenly, all her thoughts aligned. if the two of you were indeed in a relationship, as it seemed so obvious, then separating the two of you would create an irreversible ripple effect. like two peas in a pod, together you were a force to be reckoned with, but tearing one away and crushing it would change everything.

if cassidy wanted to stoop low, she could go lower.

ANDERSON’S ESTATE

4:54 am on a sunday morning

due to the convoluted approval process, the transfer paperwork would likely take weeks, if not months, to be approved. there was no way abby could allow that to happen. by the time the transfer was accepted, you'd be off in dubai for a honeymoon with your apparent soulmate, sipping margaritas without a care in the world. no, she had to find a way to expedite the process, and it had to be done by the end of this overcoming week.

so she found herself in her office, nursing a few glasses of whiskey and indulging in chain-smoking cigarettes, a habit she could never partake in one without the other. surrounded by the solace of her private liar, the alcohol and nicotine fueled her thoughts, as she brainstormed list after list of ways to get rid of cassidy. patient abandonment was one option, but it ran the risk of tarnishing her own reputation as well. however, she was past the point of caring about the repercussions of her actions. all that mattered was taking down cassidy, one way or another.

feeling a mixture of an uncomfortable unfulfillment and disoriented, she runs a hand through her tousled mane. with a groan, rubs her eyes and gets up, smoldering the glowing embers of the cigarette in the overflowing ashtray before trudging off to bed like a pouting toddler.

In the comforts of her bed, shafts of dawn gently seeped through the curtains, with her loyal puppy, alice, sleeping at her feet, whining occasionally as she glanced up at her owner. abby couldn't help but wonder if the dog was attempting to communicate with her, as if offering a cautionary message. was it the effects of the whiskey and cigarettes playing tricks on her mind, or was her canine companion genuinely trying to warn her of impending consequences? these thoughts swirled through her muddled mind, yet the idea of it actually seemed far-fetched.

it’s a thing to think of, and another to do.

ONE DAY, MONDAY

cheshire cat grin

“and i want you all to be more aware— if you haven’t been already.” the firm voice snapped abby out of her reverie.

a weary sigh emits as her body slumps into a loose crescent shape, the strain of sitting in an ass-numbing chair for hours was finally taking its toll, and listening to her supervisor drone on and on about the same old report on employee performance wasn’t helping either. however, one particular statement caught her undivided attention.

the rise in unauthorized narcotics.

the report revealed that there had been a 3% increase in the number of supplies used compared to the usual amount. this increase caused considerable stress for the superior, who advised—no, demanded that all doctors on each floor find the culprit.

with mounting irritation from the current predicament, the overseer noticed abby’s expression and prompted her with a question. “is there anything you’d like to say, abigail?” she inquired, presumptuously.

as the superior fixed a firm gaze on her, abby’s initial instinct was to reply with a simple “no.” but then a new thought took hold. she sat up straighter, straightening her normally confident demeanor even further, and responded with a question of her own. “hypothetically speaking, if i do uncover the perpetrator, what measures will be taken in response?”

the woman’s scoff conveyed a dismissive tone, as if the answer was lingering in the air. she smugly responded, “well, hypothetically, they’d be fired on the spot, and all hospitals in the county would be notified never to employ them again.” there was a brief pause before continuing with that same overly confident demeanor, “so, they’d have to move just to find another job.” eyeing abby as if searching for even the slightest hint of nervousness.

under normal circumstances, abby’s temper would have flared at her superior’s condescending tone, but in that moment, everything was perfect. a polite smile abby offered held more than the naked eye could see.

the jigsaw pieces were falling into place.

TWO DAYS LATER, WEDNESDAY

surprise!

the days melded together, each one weighed down by a stack of endless papers and an incessant, desperate assistant who was over her shoulder, relentlessly nagged for her attention. in those moments of exhaustion, she started regretting ever giving them the slightest bit of her attention in the first place, justifying the brief lapses in her focus as mere 'moments of weakness'.

in obeying her supervisor's advice, she had been carefully observing everyone, with a heightened level of scrutiny directed towards cassidy, intentionally growing increasingly “suspicious” of her. with a fierce determination, she wrestled hard to suppress the many outbursts that threatened to spill over simply due to the sight of you and cassidy together.

even as a child, abby had a knack for fixating on unimportant details, down to the intricate nuances of color. her attention to detail had grown into a deep obsession, enabling her to familiarize herself with an object or being within days. with cassidy, she had approached it like disassembling a game of jenga, meticulously analyzing her every action, carefully calculating her plans. all she needed now was the opportune moment to set everything into motion.

just as she was about to execute her plan, a sudden, unexpected event occurred, as if on cue.

with newfound courage bolstered by a glass of whiskey and a cigarette, she rose from her chair, only for the shrill ring of her phone to pierce the tense atmosphere, and she glanced down to see a rarely-seen name on the screen— her grandmother, susana. an unyielding, meticulous woman, had been a source of inspiration for abby as she grew up, shaping her into the determined individual she had become.

susana, was a renowned fashion designer based in paris, a demanding professional life that had left her with limited time to spend with her beloved granddaughter. with a huff, sitting back in her office chair, abby picked up her phone and pressed it against her ear, preparing for their conversation.

"oh, my darling abigail!" the sound of her grandmother's sweet, melodic voice filled abby's ear.

a subtle wince crossed her face, and a forced smile tugs at her lips, almost as if her grandmother could see her through the phone.

"hi.” she responded, prompting her grandmother to lightheartedly tease, "oh, darling, why so timid?" her chuckle echoed over the line.

abby responded with a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. "sorry, gam-gam, I'm just a bit stressed." she confessed.

her grandmother replied with a lighthearted hum. “well, in that case, meet me at the cafe down the street for a little whine down.” and with a click, the line went dead, leaving abby scarcely a moment to protest.

with a heavy sigh, she tossed her phone aside, muttering, "damnit." frustrated, she ran a hand over her face.

in the reserved confines of their booth, her grandmother inquired with a casual tone, "so, did you receive my letter?" she pierced a strawberry with her fork, taking a bite.

abby responded with a nod, her thoughts momentarily astray to the brief moment earlier when she'd seized the opportunity to execute her plan on cassidy's unattended bag during your lunchtime in the break room. she knew such an opportunity might not present itself again anytime soon, as cassidy was set to be away until friday.

“and the book?”

abby paused, strawberry mid-air on her fork, perplexed by her grandmother's question. "what book?" she questioned with a full mouth, confusion lacing her voice.

her grandmother sighs, explaining, "the book didn't arrive?" she grumbled about the subpar mailing service. "doesn’t matter," she continued, "we can just head over to the bookstore after and replace it." her interest piqued as her grandmother added that it was another mythology book, a favorite topic of hers.

abby's eyes sparkled with excitement. "awe, sweet! i’ve been meaning to go." she responded enthusiastically.

the older woman chuckled, observing, "old habits die hard, I suppose." she then posed a question that seemed to ignite her interest even more. "tell me, have you managed to swoon any girls with your extensive library of knowledge?" her grandmother's smile grew wider at this question, her genuine wish for abby's happiness evident. how could abby possibly ruin her grandmother's happiness?

abby wasn't one to lie, but she felt compelled to do so, especially since the truth was more difficult to share. a gentle smile tugged at her lips, and a blush appeared on her face as she played with the blueberry on her plate. though it was a lie, it was an effortless one. "well, there's this one girl at work," she began, her voice growing more softer. "she’s incredibly sweet, and I think she likes me." the rosiness in her cheeks deepened, adding a touch of authenticity to her fib.

“awe, sugarplum, who is it?”

“her name is y/n.”

ANOTHER TWO DAYS LATER, FRIDAY

the final act

after two days of being completely immersed in the book, abby managed to force herself back to reality. cassidy had reappeared, prompting abby to resume her daily observations. she diligently watched over you and cassidy, particularly monitoring the red-head’s interactions.

she had arranged a private conversation with the supervisor, raising concerns about “suspicious” behavior involving cassidy. the supervisor guaranteed action before six pm that afternoon. all she needed to do now was secure her bag alone before then. abby set an alarm on her watch, stashed the narcotics in her pocket, and exited her office, determined to carry out her plan.

she closed her door and was immediately greeted by the familiar sounds of chatter and movement, the distinctive scent of the hospital filling her nose. as she inhaled, it was as if she was breathing in the purest air. but then, the explosive sound of a voice abruptly shattered her moment of comfort. she jumped in surprise and turned her head to see a nurse.

"sorry, doctor," she apologized, her smile tinged with nervousness. "i—uhm, have documents for you to sign for a discharge." she extended the clipboard, waiting for abby to take it.

still feeling discombobulated, abby nodded stiffly as she accepted the clipboard and signed it. “are… are you okay?” the nurse's question caught her off guard, prompting her to look up. "yes—yes, I'm fine.” she replied, her voice somewhat strained.

saying a brief goodbye, she walks down the hallway, and sees cassidy getting dressed in the staff room. abby smirks, and walks inside just as she’s gonna leave. the initial door opening scares, making her jump back, and she sees it’s abby, she greets her with a smile, and quick hi, trying to exit. but abby isnt gonna let her leave so quick.

abby says a brief farewell and proceeds down the hallway, catching sight of cassidy dressing up in the staff room. she stops with a grinch-like grin saunters into the room just as cassidy is about to exit. the sudden door opening startles cassidy, making her jump back. she quickly greets abby with a smile and a casual "hi," attempting to leave. however, abby is determined not to let her go that easily.

"hey, wait." abby halts cassidy in her tracks with a firm arm grab, causing her to stop.

cassidy looks up, bewildered, and clutches her bag close to her shoulder, waiting to see what this was about. abby’s eyebrows furrowed, it’s been truly a long time since she stood by her self-proclaimed enemy. she didn't seem to have changed much— not that she cared to notice, except for the new pin on her shirt— a small pride flag, cute.

abby scoffs, chuckling which prompts cassidy to raise an eyebrow. “what’s so funny?”

in response, she shakes her head dismissively, replying with a hint of mischief, "nothing, just a joke i remembered." adding slyly with a cunning smile, she continues, "how do you like working here?"

cassidy swallows, her nerves becoming visibly apparent as she nods in agreement. "it’s good," she reiterates, adding, "yeah, i love working with the children."

abby hums in response, laughing. "well, don't let me stop you." she promptly opens the door for cassidy, eliciting a smile from her in response, and as she begins to pass through, the taller blonde adds. “enjoy it while it lasts.”

as she watched cassidy leave with her bag in hand, abby's emotions were divided. she felt a sense of sheer satisfaction, empowerment, her lips twisting into a muscle straining grin as she watched the bag recede into the distance, carrying her ticket goodbye. and she didn’t feel an ounce of regret because she did warn her. to enjoy it all, her time at the hospital to its fullest, and she meant it. true to her nature, abby prided herself on consistency, even more so in her efficiency, like a stealthy ninja.

in and out, no flaws, no witnesses.

no window for the light to shine through.

THE LIGHT

cascading over your form was from the now straining lamp above. your head ached, overwhelmed by the events of the day. but one interaction stood out as particularly odd— an event you didn't take part in, rather witness instead.

it seemed under every blue moon that cassidy and abby would interact, despite working on the same floor. there were no crossovers, so when a hand broke that line. there was something unsettling about the whole interaction, especially the invader's body language. her movements were mechanical, unnatural even, making it all hard to ignore.

a chill runs down your spine as you consider the implications. you know what you witnessed, but it feels almost unbelievable. just as with notorious serial killers, you struggle to comprehend the thought processes behind such heinous acts. perhaps this lunatic in particular requires her own account to explain her motives and actions.

you arrived at just the right moment, only a few seconds before their conversation ended. fortunately, you had come in time to witness abby casually slipping something into cassidy's bag while she was turning away. the object had a distinct pill bottle shape, subtle enough to avoid attracting unwanted attention, but enough to pique your interest.

the rumors of stolen narcotics had been circulating, and a mysterious culprit was being gossiped about behind closed doors. you and cassidy had spent some time discussing the topic, sharing silly theories, though nothing more than just pure hearsay.

your eyebrows furrow in thought, though it wasn't helping. instead, only intensified the now throbbing headache, slowly morphing into a full-blown migraine. with your hands holding your head up, you look down at long forgotten paperwork that was meant to be done from the comforts of your own home, but considering the distressing state you’re in. it was far from comforting now.

with a frustrated sigh, you flick off the lamp and abandon your paperwork, ready to rise from your desk. suddenly, your phone rings, jolting you with a spike in heart rate. you glance down at the caller ID.

you immediately answer the call, only to be met with cassidy's hysterical voice. through her sobs and gasps, she reveals that she was fired due to stealing narcotics. your worst fears were confirmed; it was no longer just a mere theory. you had indeed witnessed abby slipping something that resembled a small pill bottle into cassidy’s bag.

as you try to console your friend, a whirlwind of emotions begins to roil within you. some of that emotion directed towards yourself, but strongly towards abby. it was true, you saw it with your very own eyes, and yet chose to wait. you hated the fact that it took you so long to come to your senses, and a wave of guilt consumes you for not marching straight to the supervisor moments after witnessing it.

even if it was too late for your friend, it wasn’t for abby.

the lobby, now shrouded in dimmed lighting with very few sources of illumination, seemed like something straight out of a horror movie. paying no mind to the eerie ambiance, you quickly make your way towards abby’s office door, knowing she typically uses this time to prepare the employee’s schedules. the reasoning behind why she does it in her office is unknown, but frankly, not your biggest concern.

your knuckles collide forcefully against the wood, channeling the full extent of your anger’s strength. the door swings open, revealing a slightly taken aback abby. she utters, “what—what are you doing here?” her tone seems somewhat off.

you don’t waste any time, no words, and cut straight to the chase. “what did you do to cassidy?”

she raises an eyebrow in confusion, responding, “what are you talking about? are you on something, y/n?”

without hesitating, you push past her into her office. turning your head at neck breaking speed to set your hardened gaze onto hers. your voice takes on a more firm tone: “am i? are you?!”

you repeat your question with unwavering determination. “what did you do to cassidy?”

with a scoff, she crosses her arms, feigning innocence. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.” she denies.

“oh, don’t play dumb,” you retort, your gaze unwavering. “you know exactly what i’m talking about! tell me, what was it that you threw into her bag?”

she nervously swallows, her composure faltering for just a moment before she regains control. this reaction was all you needed to confirm your suspicions.

"that’s confidential.” she repeats assertively, making her way behind her desk.

"confidential, my ass!" you yell in response. "i know damn well what i saw!"

she stops in her tracks and turns her head to face you, a look of indignation on her face. “what did you just say to me?”

ignoring her interruption, you push on, demanding answers. “what did you do to her? what did you say?!” your fist clenched tightly.

for the first time, she drops her facade, maintaining eye contact without hesitation, as she admits. “i gave her a little parting gift.”

the intensity in her eyes makes your blood run cold, trying to gather a sense of what her cryptic response implies. you stammer. “what—what does that even mean?”

she suddenly realizes the gravity of her confession—how she inadvertently revealed her actions, but anger clouds her morality. "just drop it.” she grits out through clenched teeth, patience wearing thin.

the fire in your eyes flares up, brimming with anger and defiance that refuses to let you back down. "no!" you firmly retort. "you’re going to tell me!" frustration seeps through your voice as your patience wanes. you’re tired of her smug superiority, the audacity to act as if she had everyone under her command.

her lips curl into a smirk, her voice oozing with sarcastic scorn. “oh, i’m gonna tell you?” she taunts, scoffing. “tell you what? about your little friend?” her tone carries undertones of something against your mere friendship with cassidy.

the mention of something more regarding your friend sends a pang of defensiveness coursing through you.

"what?" you breathe out, taken aback. "what does that even mean, huh?"

she takes a step forward, each breath heavy and labored. her voice betrays her impatient nature, a predator preparing to pounce. “oh, you know what that means,” she retorts, scoffing internally at how dull you’re being to an obvious situation. despite the tension in the room reaching a high, it’s abby’s intensity that seizes the moment. you half expected to see her licking her lips with anticipated hunger, like a ravenous beast.

it sends a rush of conflicting emotions coursing through you—an alluring mixture of curiosity and trepidation. the encounter itself feels like a high-stakes game of chess where you struggle to predict your opponent's next move. as you step back, your confidence falters, and your voice softens into a small whimper.

“i don’t...”

abby catches onto this, pouncing on it like a hungry lion sensing weakness, further igniting her motives.

you gasp as your back meets the cool, solid wood behind you. in an instinctive movement, your eyes flick briefly behind you before darting back forward. only to find abby’s overbearing presence suffocating your personal space.

"oh, i think you do." she rasps, tilting her head to the side, a chuckle escaping her lips. her faltering gaze lingering to your lips for a fleeting moment before pulling away. her tone seethes with anger, words biting as she scoffs.

“you think you’re so damn slick, huh?” she paces back and forth, a fierce intensity in her stride, causing you to wince in response.

“you act like i wouldn’t catch on to your little games, as if it wasn’t painfully transparent to everyone around you!” her frustration builds, and she raises her arms, unleashing a frustrated sigh before bringing them down forcefully to slap her thighs. "as if i wouldn’t notice!”

you couldn't understand where this anger was coming from. sure, she had always been an asshole, but lately, her outbursts and irritability have seemed to reach a new assholery. and it seemed to have started around the same time you had become friends with cassidy. It was almost as if your newfound friendship had awakened something within her, something darker and more volatile. perhaps jealousy?

abby’s anger blazes brightly in her eyes, her words sharp. "god, you’re infuriating," she says, her voice laced with hostility. "like some fucking prodigy, you think you know everything, don’t you?!" she emphasizes with lurching her body forward, her hands slamming down on the desk either side of you, effectively trapping you in place.

your breath hitches as she draws nearer, her proximity sending an intoxicating wave throughout your body. the intensity of her anger is palpable, every labored breath brushing against your skin like a gentle caress. her lips are tantalizingly close to yours, separated by an annoying invisible barrier that could be shattered at any moment if she so desired. just one push.

"fuck you, abby!" you hiss, your voice faltering for a moment before hardening. "you always had a goddamn bone to pick with me, you piece of shit!" your words linger in the air, carrying years of built-up resentment directed at abby. but the shock of her unexpected confession wipes away your outrage, replacing it with astonishment.

"because i love you!" she yells, her voice ringing out louder than intended. her revelation hangs in the air, rendering you speechless. as those words sink in, your breath catches in your throat. "what?" you manage to croak out, hardly believing what you've just heard.

you observed a flicker of vulnerability in her expression that's quickly replaced by a hardened composure. there was no turning back, the cat was out of the bag, and so she only pressed forward with determination.

her voice descending to a low, sultry tone, she says "you think watching what's mine prancing around like a slut at her own workplace doesn't make me livid?" each word drips with possessive anger and suppressed desire.

your voice comes out smaller and fragile than anticipated as you muster the words, "i’m… i’m not yours." you struggle to meet abby's intense gaze, your body tensing subconsciously as you push yourself against her desk, attempting to create some space between the two of you. the air is thick with tension, the room practically vibrating with the weight of abby’s confession and your denial. you felt trapped, your body practically molding into the desk behind you.

"do you believe that?" she inquires, raising a brow in challenge. she lifts a thumb to slide across your bottom lip, her touch firm yet almost teasing. she pauses for a moment before letting out a gravelly chuckle, further probing into the tension. “i don’t.” she admits with a light shrug. her movements felt taunting, yet calculated as if she’s trying to catch you in a lie, and to fess up.

abby was frustrated, bordering on infuriated, trying to make sense of the situation. her mind was a tangle of emotions, and she felt like she was grasping at straws, trying to connect the pieces in her head. she had the mental board laid out in her mind, each string connecting to a different thought, all pointing to one central question: you and cassidy, and the enigma of your poorly hidden relationship. this uncertainty fueled her anger, and you weren’t making it any better. she wanted to do something— anything— to show you that you weren't just anyone's; you were hers.

"what about alexa, huh?" you ask, gaining a peak of confidence, your words snapping her attention back.

“what about her?” she questions truthfully, amused by your presumed jealousy. “you jealous?"

caught off guard and exposed, you feel the equilibrium shift, upending the chess pieces in your mind. "i’m not jealous," you insist, realizing the power her words hold. it’s as if she has cornered you in this game, check. mate.

“oh, sure you aren’t." abby steps closer, her body pressing against yours, trapping you between her and the desk. her words take on a dual edge of ire and yearning as she smirks. "i should’ve known with the way you’ve been acting, you’re practically begging me to put you in your place.” she murmurs, chuckling gravely. "to fuck you until you can only say yes, doctor anderson." she feigns a high pitch moany tone, a lewd and terrible, yet obvious admit of sounding like you as she says “yes, doctor anderson.”

she laughs before humming, seeming to enjoy that fantasy as she lets herself become lost in the idea for a moment before continuing.

abby’s features lean in closer, the heat from her breath caressing the apple of your cheek as she murmurs against your ear, “tell me, do you let cassidy make you her personal pocket pussy?” her words send a shiver down your spine as her hand moves to caress your cheek, pausing to let you feel the weight of her question in the air before inquiring further, “to bend you over anywhere, anytime, and you’ll just take it like a good girl?” her words laced with a lewdness that sends a thrill through your body, despite the fact that you know you should reject the notion. the question itself was filthy, taboo, and utterly intoxicating. but you couldn’t deny the existence of being drawn to it, deep down knowing more than ever if you ever were to think of that fantasy, you’d want it to be her, not cassidy.

“no, no, it’s not like that.” you attempt to defend yourself, trying to find the right words, but abby interjects before you can say anything else. she scoffs at your attempted denial, her grip on you tightening, causing you to wince. her voice lowers into a dark laugh, her disbelief evident. "oh really? you really expect me to believe that bullshit?"

her name escapes your lips in a gasp, but abby cuts you off yet again, her eyes darkening as she speaks.

"lemme tell you what it's like," she begins, her tone husky. “i think you'd like it. hell, you pray that it does happen because you're nothing but just a pathetic girl who wants some attention. is that what you want? attention?" abby inquires, licking her teeth in an almost predatory manner. your heart races in your chest as her words cut through you.

the tension in the room is palpable, thick with unexpressed desire and emotion. you find yourself unable to hold back any longer, your voice quivering as you voice your deep-seated need. “i want your attention," you confess, your words almost inaudible, they're so faint.

even if faint, she heard all of it, dissected each syllable. it’s all she ever wanted, no, needed to hear from you. “yeah?” her voice falters into a soft whimper, tilting her head to the side and grabbing your cheeks with her large hands, only now focusing on your lips. “i’ll give you all my attention.” she promises, swiftly pulling your face, smashing yours onto hers.

your body trembled from the conflicting sensations, a clash of cold and hot, a maelstrom of warring emotions. years without her touch had left you craving her embrace, and her lips on yours sent heat coursing through your veins. though the kiss stood unspoken, there was no need for actions that spoke louder. both hatred and desire intertwined, two sides of the same coin, fueling this volatile gesture. your hands roamed her body, exploring every curve and contour, as hers did the same, desperately pulling you closer, kneading your flesh like clay. your hands finally found a resting place on her shoulders, gripping her like a lifeline in the storm of sensations swirling around you.

your movements, your gasps and sighs, fueled the fire within abby, and with a determined strength, she hoists you up onto her desk. the sudden change in position elicits gasp from you, pressing your body against hers with an arch, and abby seizes the moment, slipping her tongue past your lips, exploring your mouth with a fervent passion. it was a dance both familiar and new, a moment of fiery connection that consumed you both.

her breath ragged, lips tingling from the passion of the kiss as stares down at you, her eyes dark and filled with hunger as she murmurs her confession. "i've always dreamt of this… having you," her fingers roaming over your body slowly as she says this, relishing in the way you react to her touch. she presses her forehead shading yours, her dilated eyes reflecting the depth of her desire. her cold thumbs find their way underneath your clothes, tracing slow circles, sending a shiver through your body. "having this feeling of your skin under my fingertips."

your voice quivered as you call her name, and for a moment you think your plea to have her lips on yours again are answered, but instead, she finds her new focus, your neck. her lips fall, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites. the sound of your whimpers only spurred her on, her hands gripping your hips possessively as she continued to mark your skin, leaving a trail of hickeys.

abby was in her element now, and your desperate tone only fed her desire. she wanted more, to hear you call her name even more. with a smirk, she lifted her head, eyes burning with amusement. "yeah? you like the sound of that, pretty girl?" she muses, her hand suddenly landing a sharp smack on your thigh, making you jump. in response, she chuckled at your reaction, her laugh sent tingles down your spine, a mixture of amusement and desire. her grip on your thighs tightened, pushing them higher up, and drinking up the sight of you, spread before her with your feet on the desk sent abby's desire spiraling out of control. she couldn't help but lick her lips, taking in the full view of your flushed skin and parted legs. you couldn't hold back a squirm, feeling so exposed— though you weren’t — under her intense gaze.

"i love seeing you like this," she murmured, her voice thick with arousal. she steps towards you again, nestling herself in the newfound space. her lips return to your neck, greeting the previous bruises plastered on your neck with soft licks and kisses. "so desperate and needy."

her hands leave your thighs as she lifts herself up to meet your gaze, taking in your already disheveled state. with a hum of satisfaction, she asks, "who gets you like this?"

you manage to respond with a barely audible, "you, abby." she hums at your whimperish respond, a smirk crossing her lips at the confirmation, "yes, not that bitch, cassidy. me. and only me, right, baby?" she gives a slight nod, as if she’s responding for you.

the blonde brings her hand up to your lips, watching as you open your mouth to invite her thumb, which she eagerly accepts.

she let out a low, guttural groan as you suck and lick her pad of her thumb, enjoying the sensations that your mouth causes. she couldn't resist the urge to voice her thoughts, her words thick with possession and desire.

"hm, such a dirty girl." she paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you, before amending her statement with a husky tone, "my dirty girl."

you release her thumb with a pop, humming a tone of satisfaction, and licking your lips to savor the lingering taste of her. a chuckle escapes abby's lips as she watches you, her eyes roaming your body yet again. the desire to rip your clothes off and shut you up has been building since the moment you walked into her office, "take this off, baby. you’re killing me with not showing me what's mine," she growls, her words tinged with need and possess. "need to see it, feel it. need." she mumbled against your skin, completely submitted to her delusions. you don’t fight this time, barely able to remove each article of clothing with abby eagerly kissing and licking every available inch of skin. but stops at your bikini line, encountering a setback— your underwear — cockblocking her.

her eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, looking up at you with an almost comical expression of frustration, and offense. as if being unable to take off your underwear because of her was a you problem. “funny.” she retorts, tone dripping in sarcasm, but nothing on her face shows amusement. “real fucking funny.” she remarks, punctuating her words with a sharp smack to your hip, kneading at the red skin roughly, making you wince. “you fucking tease.” she continues, her voice laced with a mix of desire and irritation.

"i should punish you for that little stunt," her fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear, intending to pull them down herself since you’re incompetent to do so. “but, fuck, look at all this.” she relents, sliding them off your legs— and pocketing them for later — to reveal your core, practically weeping for her. “all this f’me?” she pants, eyes flicking up to yours.

a whiny moan of her name slips past your lips, but she shushes you gently, her voice softer now. "i know, baby, i know." she cooed, her large hand running comfortingly up and down your side. as she spreads your quivering legs further, exposing your drenched folds, abby feasts her eyes upon the sight before her. her lips curve upward, "fuck," she breathed, her eyes never leaving your pulsing core. “look at this pretty pussy. this is prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen—this has to be mine.” she leans down, her warm breath ghosting over your clit before she pressing a tender kiss there, savoring your reaction to her smallest touch, and now wondering what other reactions she could get out of you.

you weren't prepared for what came next, not one bit. expecting her to take things slow, you were completely caught off guard as abby gripped your thighs and, in one swift motion, separated your slimy folds, lapping any sweet nectar waiting for her. you tense from sudden sensation, letting out a loud, unapologetic moan as you arch off the desk. your hands instinctively tangle themselves into her steady braid that soon unravels from being used as reins.

encouraged by your fervent response, abby delved deeper, her skilled tongue tracing a path to your engorged nub. enclosing it between her lips, she whispered her praise, "you taste better than i thought." her voice trembled, mingling with your own moans.

as her teeth gently nipped at your sensitive bundle, you cried out, your thighs involuntarily squeezing her shoulders. a wicked smirk graced her lips as she basked in your reaction, taking immense pleasure in your submission.

the unexpected pinch sent jolts of shock through your body, your limbs twitching and writhing in a frenzied dance. in response, abby repositions her left hand on your abdomen, gripping tightly to anchor you in place. each sound that escaped your trembling lips fueled her hunger, her throaty hums resonating against your flesh. with a devilish gleam in her eyes, she teasingly traced circles near your navel with her thumb, heightening your anticipation.

a groan rumbled in her throat when your fingers gripped her hair, the sensation only spurring her on. her mouth fastened more insistently around your swollen nub, sucking harder as you cried out her name. the strain in your voice confirmed her suspicions: you were on the cusp of your release, and she was eager to push you over.

abby's fingers joined the fray, sliding in and out of your slick folds with practiced ease. her relentless assault on your clit continued, her touch sending shivers through your body and causing your breaths to come in ragged gasps. the sight of you, quivering and exposed before her, stoked a fire within her, a determination to send you flying over the edge.

abby derived an addiction from your pleasure. each moment of ecstasy seemed to fuel her further, driving her to amplify the tempo and depth of her ministrations. as the room filled with the lewd symphony of flesh meeting flesh and intertwined heavy breaths, something stirred within abby. something unfamiliar, uncharted. normally, she would exhibit unrivaled confidence during intimate encounters, but with you, it was different—more intense, deeper. a desperate craving to be perfect, to ensure you'd never seek anyone else but her. she’d hate to admit it, but the realization gnaws at her: the longing for you even after this is over.

"who's making you cum tonight?" abby questioned the obvious once more, but her arrogance tone underlined the strong need for reassurance. your moans were her only response, and while she adored the sweet sounds, she craved more. a sudden shift in her fingers�� movements made you yell out, "you, abby," your words punctuated by cries of pleasure.

her fingers, now confined within your tight grip, sensed the growing tension, the impending eruption, the imminent of your orgasm. "uh-huh, come for me," she ordered, "let me hear who’s making a mess of you."

it’s rather short lived, quickly fading into a hazy blur. you threw your head back as her eyes closed, savoring the taste of your ecstasy with a hum, helping you through your orgasm until your body laxs.

withdrawing her fingers, abby admired the sight of your juices clinging to them, a testament to her efforts. a satisfied smile stretches across her face as she reveled in the knowledge that she had brought you to such heights.

she licks them clean, feeling a rush of gratification that only you can provide. releasing her fingers with a soft pop, her lips make way and pave along the curve of your hip, leaving a trail of wet, sticky kisses behind as she moves up to stand before you. “such a good girl..” she mumbled against your skin. you lift yourself up with your elbow, taking a moment to catch your breath, your body still quivering from the intensity of your orgasm that has left you momentarily speechless. you couldn't help, but notice abby’s disheveled appearance as well. untangled, her hair strays from its famed braid, now flowing around her face like a cascade of waves.

but before you could comment on the sight, she claims your lips in a tender, sweet kiss, her hands cupping your face. the connection was brief, and when she pulled away, a grin lit up her features. without another word spoken, she unclothes herself, revealing herself in all her glory. you knew she worked out, but goddamn, did she work out! the determination to achieve the physique showed immensely. in your admiration, you felt the apple of your cheeks warm up, causing you to look away.

"don’t go shy on me, babe," she chided playfully, repositioning your face to meet hers. she seals the deal with another kiss pushing you down gently onto the desk. "lay back f’me, ‘kay?"

with a nod, you comply, watching as the corded muscles in her arms flex as she moves into position, lifting your leg. a grin tugged at the corners of your lips as she placed a tender kiss on your ankle, making her soft chuckle fill the air in return before she securely set your leg on her shoulder.

the moment your wet folds connected, a guttural moan escaped her lips. the sensation was everything she craved, wasting no time in starting a vigorous grinding motion. as she ruts back and forth, she can’t help but mutter curses under her breath, lost in her own pleasure. "fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good." she hisses, throwing her head back. the raw intensity of her emotions written clear as day on her features.

her concentration nearly falters when she glances down, and the sight that met her eyes threatened to make her cum on the spot. the image of your hair spread out across the desk, your bouncing breasts with every upthrust combined with the feeling of your warmth against hers drove her to near insanity.

abby swore she had to be on the edge of a near-death experience, or some type of dejà vu as she gazed upon you in awe, swearing that you resembled a goddess straight out of a mythology book she had once read. though the memory of the goddess’s name was just out of reach, abby couldn't shake the feeling that she had personally seen a painting she once visited come to life in front of her very own eyes.

your hair, freed from its usual up do, was now cascading around your head and spilling off the edge of the desk like an ebony waterfall. your body, unrestrained, was a breathtaking display of femininity. each heaving breath caused your breasts to sway gently, your nipples hardened in anticipation. the way your skin glistened with a thin film of sweat only added to the captivating tableau.

in that moment, abby could almost imagine you as a divine muse from an ancient myth, a vision of beauty and desire. if she didn't snap herself back to reality, the mere sight might have been enough to send her hurtling toward an orgasm. but she had other plans, and she was determined to make them happen.

without warning, abby leaned down, her left hand resting beside your head to brace herself. as her mouth wrapped over one of your taut nipples, her tongue danced over the sensitive bud. simultaneously, her free hand kneaded your other breast, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. your hips bucked involuntarily, meeting her thrusts, and for a moment, it stuttered her pace, a low moan escaping her lips.

"fuck—baby, don't—don't do that," she pleads, filthy groans slipping pass her lips as her hand slides down to your hip, holding you firmly in place as her engorged clit pulsated with building intensity. she was determined to make you cum before she did.

your whispered invocation of her name caused her to glance up at your flushed, disheveled appearance. the sight was a temptation she couldn't resist, and crashed her lips against yours, the feverish kiss mirroring the urgency of your coupling. the closeness and ferocity of both embraces unconsciously synced your movements, hips rocking in unison.

"fuck! abby, i’m gonna cum, please!" your gasps grew heavier and staccato, your forehead pressing against hers as her pace quickened, breaths entwining. normally, abby would step in and reprimand her employees for behaving too freely when seemingly having too much fun. however, in this moment, she actively encourages it, the atmosphere brimming with an intense hunger for it.

"i know, baby, i know." abby's hand found your cheek, stroking it soothingly as if trying to appease your mind to allow what’s inevitable. "cum for me—cum with me," she pants, her pace faltering as she reached her zenith. her arms enveloped you, her hair acting as a curtain around the two of you. guiding you through your release, the slick of your shared pleasure coated your entwined bodies.

once over, abby’s rhythm ceased, and she collapsed on top of you, utterly spent. the weight of the night's passionate encounters bore down, leaving the two of you entwined in the afterglow.

in the act of catching your breaths, it gave abby post-nut clarity. her cheeks reddened, overwhelmed with shame for her past behavior, guilt gnawing at her insides as she realized how much of an ass she had been. it makes her get up, promptly making you sit up, confused.

with a shaky breath, she pushed her hair behind her ear, an expression that was nothing like her usual confident self. "look," she began hesitantly, her voice strained as she struggled to find the right words. unable to meet your gaze, she continued, "i’m sorry for everything. i've been having these feelings, feelings i-i don't even know how to process about you, but i... just wanted to say that i'm sorry for being such an asshole. it was pathetic."

finally, she looked at you, her lips laced in a pout. her confession took you by surprise, leaving you speechless. it was a side of abby you never saw, apologetic.

“asshole is an understatement.” you finally say, laughing softly, an attempt to alleviate the tension in the air, yet it brought no amusement to the receiver. with a quick gulp to clear your throat, you question, “what kind of feelings?” tilting your head to one side.

abby's mouth forms into a tight smile at your lighthearted comment. "they're romantic feelings," she confessed, taking a step forward. she knew the likelihood of your response, but nonetheless continued. "i wasn't lying when i said 'i love you’… but if you don't—" she let out a shaky exhale, the next words stinging. "I'll understand."

unable to suppress an oncoming smile, you take the sight of the usually tough-as-nails abby anderson, now a softie. taking for a moment before responding with a soft voice that leaves abby confused, "you look pretty like this.”

"what?"

"yeah, you should wear your hair down when we go on a date."

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