#i would also like a heavy amount of praise
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Something I have seen people complain about is when the story “stops” for a character to mentally think about their feelings regarding something.
I think that’s bullshit.
Like, okay. Think about it. How fast is your train of thought? Faster than your reading speed, right? Do your thoughts all happen in neat little sentences, or as more of a nebulous and/or choppy half-formed thing that *you* understand, but would sound like nonsense on a page?
Also, the character probably isn’t actually taking as long to think these things as you are reading it. “Character A feels xyz about this” isn’t taking ten seconds to actually happen, feelings coexist with action!
Now, there is a time and place for introspection. It is my personal philosophy to have the amount of introspection reflect the pacing of a scene. Fast battle scenes will be far more action-heavy and introspection-light compared to, say, a calm breakfast.
I think it balances the annoyance over pages of introspection completely breaking the flow of an intense section of the story (at least, from the perspective of the reader), while still maintaining some of that wonderful interiority (which is actually a new word for me, and I adore it).
I’m the first to admit that I am far from an experienced or professional author. I don’t have a professional editor, and my only education is via Highschool and middle school classes (and while I was always in the advanced classes, a few even college level, they were still restricted by being part of the American education system). I definitely can think of times where my grasp on the interiority slipped. Especially when it comes to describing things that wouldn’t necessarily be noticed by the pov character, simply because I as the author do know about it and think it’s funny or important.
I’d imagine a good rule of thumb regarding this would be to treat it like dialogue. People always say to read your dialogue out loud to notice any problems. Well, just act out the scene as though you are the pov character. Not necessarily irl, but in your head. (And maybe even irl if you can manage it, it can’t hurt!) What way are you facing? Would you be able to see that annoying dog? Would you focus on the person you are talking to’s face, or their hands? Is this activity one that you would space out during, or does it require laser focus?
Basically, all the things you would not think about if you imagine the scene like a movie as you are writing.
Picturing the scene as a movie can be helpful, particularly for things like imagery. But it does have its shortcomings, as op said.
It can work thematically for some stories, but when it comes to most writing that is not third person omniscient, it’s definitely something that can cause the reader to feel… distant, I guess. Less immersed.
It’s also something that, sadly, many writers will have to teach themselves and seek out to learn, because, as OP said, it’s becoming harder to find in modern works. This is doubly so do people who mainly read non-published works. I will sing the praises of fanfiction until the day that I die, and maybe even after, but the fact of the matter is that 99% of fanfiction authors are self taught. They may not know how to incorporate interiority. They may not even have ever read a work that had it.
I know a lot of people say that you should read the “classics”, and you may be thinking that could help here, but I for one am a fierce defender of not putting up requirements to be considered a writer, and that includes required reading. Yes it can help you learn skills, but so can more modern works. I learned a lot from reading Percy Jackson, and other lesser known books, and none of them are considered classics on par with The Great Gatsby or Shakespeare.
Instead, I propose this: if you want to get a better grasp on writing with interiority, try actually consciously focusing on your day to day life for a little while every day. Focus on your train of thought, on the things you focus on, on the things you see.
If you want to read something, great! Ask for recommendations, go to your local library and flip through books until you find one you think you will both enjoy and which has a good grasp of the concept.
First and foremost, however, in any writing, is to remember how we as humans actually live and interact with the world, and you’ve got a primary source of research at all times: yourself. Exclusively using other texts as sources will only ever end in a very broken game of telephone.
A lot of fiction these days reads as if—as I saw Peter Raleigh put it the other day, and as I’ve discussed it before—the author is trying to describe a video playing in their mind. Often there is little or no interiority. Scenes play out in “real time” without summary. First-person POV stories describe things the character can’t see, but a distant camera could. There’s an overemphasis on characters’ outfits and facial expressions, including my personal pet peeve: the “reaction shot round-up” in which we get a description of every character’s reaction to something as if a camera was cutting between sitcom actors.
When I talk with other creative writing professors, we all seem to agree that interiority is disappearing. Even in first-person POV stories, younger writers often skip describing their character’s hopes, dreams, fears, thoughts, memories, or reactions. This trend is hardly limited to young writers though. I was speaking to an editor yesterday who agreed interiority has largely vanished from commercial fiction, and I think you increasingly notice its absence even in works shelved as “literary fiction.” When interiority does appear on the page, it is often brief and redundant with the dialogue and action. All of this is a great shame. Interiority is perhaps the prime example of an advantage prose as a medium holds over other artforms.
fascinated by this article, "Turning Off the TV in Your Mind," about the influences of visual narratives on writing prose narratives. i def notice the two things i excerpted above in fanfic, which i guess makes even more sense as most of the fic i read is for tv and film. i will also be thinking about its discussion of time in prose - i think that's something i often struggle with and i will try to be more conscious of the differences between screen and page next time i'm writing.
#on writing#writing#creative writing#sorry this got so long oops#as always I am incapable of being concise
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i’m actually so fucking needy rn it’s insane like god i need to be bossed around rn let me be your good boy i’ll be your good little puppy
#like bossed around nicely#i would also like a heavy amount of praise#but like :)#yeah i yeah#tags:#t4t nsft#ftm nsft#ftm sub#ftm t4t#trans nsft#queer nsft#t4t mlm#ftm bottom
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SHARING IS CARING!
ʚɞ summary: satoru agrees to share his girlfriend with kento for one night to help ease some of the stress he’s been under lately! but that doesn’t mean he’s going to make it easy for his co-worker.
warnings: fem!reader, voyeurism, cuck!satoru, oral (m receiving), breast play, penetration (p in v), fingering, pussydrunk nanami, squirting, praise kink, 18+ minors dni.
wc: 7.1k
despite how much satoru enjoys teasing his co-worker kento nanami, he can see how much stress the other man has been under lately. it’s clear from the heavy bags underneath his eyes, the way his back is almost permanently hunched in exhaustion.
the white-haired sorcerer spent an embarrassingly long amount of time in his office brainstorming different ideas to attempt to cheer nanami up. his usual go-to for anyone else would be to buy them some sweets, but he has a feeling that wouldn’t be too appreciated in this situation.
and then, after his phone buzzed with a newly received text from you: his pretty little girlfriend who was currently waiting for him at home — a lightbulb lit up in his head.
he could give you to nanami to cheer him up.
well, when he says ‘give’, of course he really means lending you to nanami. a one-time only gift (that must be returned after use) as it were.
and satoru will unarguably be present to observe the entire interaction too — he has to make sure nanami treats his sweet girl the way she deserves, after all. if the other man was to leave you unsatisfied, he would very possibly have to hollow purple him.
(and he also wouldn’t be completely opposed to watching his much-too-uptight co worker unravel before his eyes, either. but he’ll keep that part to himself.)
pleased with his newest idea, satoru practically skips along the halls on the way to nanami's office, a wide grin stretched across his lips and anticipation buzzing throughout his body.
"hellooo, nanamin!" he coos obnoxiously once he arrives outside his co-worker's office, craning his neck to peek his head around the doorway. "you in here?"
nanami audibly sighs at the sound of the white-haired man's voice, glancing up briefly from his desk with an unimpressed look pulling at his visibly exhausted features. "yes, gojo, i'm clearly in here. what is it you want this time?"
satoru holds up his hands in mock surrender, his grin never faltering as he steps fully inside the office. it's clear he's up to no good (even more so than usual), given the way he's practically vibrating on the spot with excitement.
"well?" the blonde man prompts impatiently, his eyes already cast back down to the various piles of paperwork splayed across his desk. he's evidently in no mood to deal with satoru's mischief.
"now now, don't rush me!" he huffs in response, his lower lip jutting out in an overdramatic pout despite knowing nanami isn't even looking in his direction right now. "this is a very... sensitive topic. so i'm gonna need you to pay suuuper close attention. got it?"
at this, nanami looks up from his papers, his annoyance slowly morphing into cautiousness. "sensitive how? this better not be about you wanting to know how many people i've bedded in the past, because i already told you that i will never dignify such a shameless question with an answer."
"what? no! it's not about that," satoru chuckles amusedly, before tapping the bottom of his chin with a slender finger in a theatrical display of thought. "....although, i really should find out the answer to that eventually."
nanami rolls his eyes all the way to the back of his head behind his goggles, bringing two fingers up to rub his temple. "i don't have time for this, gojo. whatever it is you came here to ask, will you just spit it out already?"
"alright, alriiight!" the white-haired sorcerer whines petulantly, sauntering further into the office and leaning his elbows against his co-worker's desk like he owns the place. "so, i've noticed you've been under a lot of stress lately—"
"which is none of your business, might i add." the other man deadpans bluntly, his lips set into their usual tight line as he regards satoru.
"sure. but, as your co-worker and friend, i've decided to make it my business," he retorts without missing a beat, waving a pale hand dismissively in nanami's direction as he continues speaking. "and i've come up with the perfect solution to cheer you up!"
nanami raises a blonde eyebrow at this, visibly still cautious but (hopefully) a little curious now. "oh, have you now?" he mutters tightly, attempting to hide the subtle interest hiding under his tone. but satoru notices, because of course he does.
"mhmm," satoru croons mischievously, his grin morphing into a little smirk as he leans further across the desk. "would you like to hear it, nanamin?"
the interest in his colleague's expression is gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by irritation yet again as he releases a deep sigh. "i'm not in the mood for your games, gojo. are you going to tell me or not?"
"ugh, fine," the white-haired man groans dramatically, rolling his eyes behind his blindfold. "can't blame a guy for trying to build up a little suspense."
satoru rifles around in his pocket for a few moments before pulling out his phone, instantly thrusting the device directly into nanami's face with absolutely no context.
"what—" nanami begins, his words quickly trailing off into an unintelligible sound of some description once he catches sight of the picture being displayed on his colleague's lock screen. "oh."
"like what you seee?" he coos obnoxiously from behind the phone, tilting his head to the side in an attempt to get a better view of the other man's reaction. "just kidding - i know you do."
"this... is that your girlfriend?" the blonde man croaks out, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically flustered. "and why is that your lockscreen, for the love of god?"
satoru just shrugs nonchalantly, jerking the phone back towards himself and taking a moment to admire the photo of you. it's your pretty body, completely bare on his bed, perky breasts on full display and smooth legs spread wide to reveal your abused pussy which was just oozing with ropes of his goopy cum.
"yes, it's my girlfriend," he hums proudly, shoving the device back into his pocket before fixing nanami with another wide grin. "and why not? it's not like anyone else sees it except me. until now, obviously."
"right," the other man breathes out, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows thickly in a poor attempt to try and compose himself. "and, pray tell, why did you feel the need to show me that?"
satoru huffs dramatically, as if having to actually explain the proposition he's come up with is taking a serious toll on him. "come onn, nanamin. use that brilliant brain of yours! i say i have a way to relieve some of your stress, and then i show you that picture..."
nanami visibly tenses as the realization of what his colleague is suggesting washes over him, his eyes narrowing into cautious slits. but he doesn't want to get ahead of himself, just in case he misinterpreted his words, so he settles for saying — "is this another one of those highly unamusing pranks of yours, gojo?"
the white-haired man rolls his eyes yet again, leaning even closer over the desk and tilting his head to the side in a playful manner. "you really think i'd show you a naked picture of my girl if this was just a prank?"
as much as it irks nanami to admit, even to himself, his co-worker does has a point there.
"touché." he grumbles under his breath, trying his best to keep up his uninterested façade despite how obviously affected he is by seeing that picture of you; needless to say, he thinks satoru is a very lucky man.
"that's all you're gonna say? touché?" satoru repeats incredulously, throwing his hands up in the air theatrically. "no 'yes please, gojo, i'd love to get me some of that'?"
"first of all, i would never say it so crudely," the blonde man retorts with his nose wrinkled in not-so-subtle disgust, shaking his had faintly. "and second of all, i'm not the sort of man who takes what doesn't belong to him."
satoru snorts out a loud laugh at this. "ugh, drop the serious act for a minute, nanamin! it's not like you're stealing her away from me or anything. i'm just offering some... one-time only stress relief, that's all."
"whatever you say, gojo," he mutters dismissively, waving a hand in his direction before rubbing his temple yet again. "even if i was to consider such a proposition, have you asked your girlfriend if she would be willing to participate?"
"yeah, sooo, about that..." satoru responds in an elongated hum, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck somewhat sheepishly.
"satoru—"
"wait, wait! just let me explain," the white-haired man squeaks hurriedly, waving around his hands theatrically. the rare use of his first name from his colleague clearly shows just how annoyed he is at this point. "i was so excited when i came up with the idea that i kinda-maybe-definitely forgot to ask her."
"why am i not surprised?" nanami huffs bluntly, clearly losing whatever interest he may have begrudgingly gained when he saw the photo.
but just before he can return to his work, satoru quickly speaks up again. "hey, wait just a minute! she's my girl, and i know my girl. she'll say yes."
nanami pauses for a few moments, silently cursing the way he's actually considering this insane proposition. but there's two facts he can't deny — one: he has been under a lot of stress lately, and he wouldn't exactly mind releasing it. and two: satoru's girlfriend is incredibly attractive.
much to his chagrin, he doesn't have a good reason to say no.
"...alright."
and that's how kento nanami finds himself standing outside your and satoru's apartment a week later, his fist hovering just above the door as he attempts to process what's awaiting him on the other side.
he can't quite believe he's actually going to 'release his stress' by using satoru's pretty little girlfriend who he's never even met before today. but he knows that not going through with it isn't an option — especially when he'll have to endure his colleague's relentless teasing afterwards.
so he knocks.
and it's you who opens the door, dressed in nothing but one of satoru's old shirts that is definitely much too long for you, the baggy fabric practically swallowing you whole as you stand before nanami.
"oh!" you gasp in realization as you look up at him, a small smile spreading across your lips as you kindly extend a hand to the man in front of you. "you must be kento! toru's told me a lot about you."
nanami, much to his own embarrassment, takes a few long moments to recover from the sight of you. somehow, you're even more beautiful in person than you were in that photo on his co-worker's lockscreen (despite being much more... clothed now.)
"ahem. yes, that's me," he murmurs after swallowing roughly, taking your hand in his own to give it a quick shake. he tries not to let his eyes linger too long on the size difference between them; how your hand practically disappears beneath his. "all good things, i hope?"
"oh, of course." you chuckle softly, stepping to the side and opening the door a little wider in a silent initiation for him to come inside. this is it — his last chance to just blow this whole thing off and drive home.
but he doesn't take that chance.
instead, he shuffles inside with a polite smile in your direction, pulling his other hand from behind his back to reveal a bouquet of flowers he'd bought on the way over here; he wasn't exactly sure what was an appropriate gift for someone else's girlfriend who was going to let him have sex with her, so he settled for some simple roses.
you close the door behind the two of you, your eyes widening when they fall on the flowers. how very... gentlemanly. you hadn't expected him to bring any type of present tonight — from what you'd gathered from satoru, this was going to be a very transactional exchange.
"sorry... is this too forward?" nanami mutters a little awkwardly, toying with the petal of one of the roses. "if you don't want them, i can go put them back in my—"
"no, no! they're beautiful," you say quickly, grasping the bouquet from him with a warm smile stretching across your lips. "it's really sweet of you. i just wasn't expecting it, that's all."
the blonde man seems to relax slightly at this, his tensed shoulders slowly deflating and a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. it's clear he's never done anything like this before; but then again, neither have you.
but when satoru had come to you with the idea of helping out his thoroughly overworked colleague and friend, who also happened to be quite handsome (in your boyfriend's words), you couldn't help but agree.
and satoru definitely underestimated kento's appearance with that measly description. he's more than quite handsome — he's gorgeous, with those well-kempt blonde locks and that ridiculously sharp jawline that could probably cut glass.
...let's just say you're not having any last minute regrets about agreeing to this.
"so, how about you go and make yourself comfortable in the living room while i put these in some water?" you suggest kindly, gesturing to doorway on the left as you head in the direction of the kitchen with the bouquet in your hands.
nanami nods in agreement, ducking his head to fit underneath the doorframe as he saunters into the living room of your apartment. it's cozy and small, with little trinkets that just scream satoru gojo scattered around the area.
of course that man has to make even his living room as chaotic as he is.
he plops down onto the couch, his still somewhat tense body sinking into the comfortable material. he feels more relaxed already than he has in months — it must be something to do with the warm atmosphere in your home (or the promise of what's to come.)
his respite doesn't last for long, however, because satoru comes bounding down the stairs, his blindfold askew and his grin wide when he notices nanami sitting there in his living room. "heyyy, nanamin! you're actually here! i figured you'd chicken out last minute, honestly."
the blonde man rolls his eyes behind his goggles, shooting his colleague a thoroughly unimpressed look in response to his statement; as if he hadn't just been considering 'chickening out', as gojo put it, moments ago outside the front door.
but he doesn't have to know that.
"well, i didn't." he settles for sighing bluntly, raising a neatly trimmed eyebrow when satoru drapes himself across the couch next to him like an oversized cat, practically taking up every inch of spare space.
"what's that look for?" satoru snickers obnoxiously, slinging his lanky legs over nanami's lap as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "this is my house you're in right now, remember? i can do what i want."
before nanami can even think of replying, you start padding into the room, shooting your boyfriend what can only be described as a disapproving look. "toru, stop harassing our guest."
the white-haired man lets out a petulant whine in response, grasping your hips as soon as you draw close enough and pulling you down onto his lap. he buries his face in your neck, grumbling. "i'm not harassing him, baby! it's just our usual banter. riiight, nanamin?"
"right." he chuckles lightly, exchanging an amused glance with you over satoru's head at the other man's antics. he's more like a young, whiny child than a full grown adult; especially when he acts like this.
"hey, stop smiling at him!" satoru huffs overdramatically in protest, looking up at you from your neck with one of his bright blue eyes peeking out from under his blindfold. "you're supposed to be on my side, pretty girl."
"i am on your side, silly," you say with fond exasperation, bringing a hand up to ruffle his messy white locks affectionately. "are you seriously mad at me for getting along with your friend?"
"no, i guess not." he grumbles in response, nuzzling his face back into your skin like a beloved pet would do to its owner.
nanami can't help but find it fascinating how the strongest sorcerer and most popular teacher at jujutsu tech seems to completely melt in your presence — there must be something really special about you, and he feels honoured to be allowed to have you for himself; even if only for one night.
"so— uh, how does this... work?" the blonde man asks curiously after clearing his throat, looking between you and the manchild snuggling you in his lap with a carefully questioning gaze.
satoru giggles at this, turning his head to give nanami an obnoxiously teasing wink. "how does me letting you hit this..." he drawls playfully, his hand traveling down from your hip to lightly squeeze your ass. "...work, nanamin?"
nanami almost chokes on his own salvia in response to his colleague's blunt wording, but somehow he manages to compose himself (just). "...yes, i suppose. if you insist on being so lewd about it."
you let out a small chuckle at this, swatting your boyfriend's hand away from your ass and giving him a chiding look, to which he just shrugs innocently.
"i think it should be up to you, kento," you hum thoughtfully, resting your chin on satoru's head and peering over at the blonde man with an encouraging smile. "how would you like this to work?"
"ah, well..." nanami begins, finding his brain seems to have short-circuited at your suggestion. he gets to choose how he has you? jesus, how is even supposed to form a single coherent sentence with you smiling at him like that?
"oh, come onn, nanamin!" satoru whines, raising one of his legs from the other man's lap to kick at his chest with one of his socked feet. "want me to give you some ideas? hmm... how about you start with her perfect little mouth? it works wonders, y'know!"
nanami lets a choked sound escape from somewhere in the back of his throat at this, his wide eyes shooting to you for any signs of hesitance. but he finds none, no — you're still smiling at him in such a friendly way, as if your boyfriend isn't signing you up to suck another man off right in front of him.
"is that— can i... are you sure?" he stammers awkwardly, suddenly feeling like an inexperienced teenager rather than a fully grown man.
"it's fine with me," you say sweetly, each word so thick and honeyed, making nanami's head start to go a little hazy. he can already feel his trousers starting to grow uncomfortably tight just from the direction this conversation is going in. "would you like that, kento?"
"would i—" nanami swallows thickly, stopping his words before they can come out sounding too eager. "yes... yes, i believe i would."
satoru grins widely at his co-worker's admission, effortlessly lifting you up from his lap and placing you on the floor in front of the couch. you crawl the rest of the way across the carpet, coming to perch between nanami's manspread legs.
the blonde man audibly gulps when you bring your hands up to his thighs, shifting just a little on the chair to try and hide how much his body is reacting to your proximity.
"phewww... look at him, baby," satoru whistles amusedly with a mischievous smirk as he watches the interaction, obnoxiously pointing to the growing tent in nanami's slacks. "so worked up already."
you tut lightly, shooting another disapproving look in your boyfriend's direction. "stop teasing him, toru. he's probably just touch-starved."
"something you wouldn't understand, gojo," nanami pushes out through gritted teeth, trying his best to keep up his usual collected demeanour even when he feels your fingers graze over his bulge. "not when you have such a sweet little thing waiting for you at home everyday."
"hm. now that is true," the white-haired man hums in agreement, reaching over nanami's lap to give your hair a gentle, loving stroke. "my girl always knows how to keep me satisfied."
you smile warmly up at satoru, leaning your head into his touch slightly while your hand squeezes around his colleague's clothed erection — and, shit. you can tell just how big he is even through these tight trousers.
you've really got your work cut out for you here.
satoru is quick to help you out, grasping a cushion from the couch and leaning down to slide it underneath your knees to make the position more comfortable for you. ugh, your boyfriend is just so considerate— but tonight isn't about him. focus!
with better support on the floor, you reach up to pop open the button on the front of nanami's slacks, looking up at him through your lashes; and, god, he looks absolutely wrecked already. his cheeks are flushed a light shade of pink, and his goggle-clad eyes are staring anywhere but you.
despite how stoic he always was in satoru's descriptions of him, right now... kento nanami looks utterly adorable.
unzipping his fly, the only barrier between you and his monster of an aching cock is his expensive-looking boxers. and while at this point with satoru you'd usually do a little teasing, you figure with nanami, it's better to cut straight to the chase.
he clearly needs it.
so you dip your nails under the waistband of his underwear, carefully tugging it down to reveal your boyfriend's colleague in all of his touch-starved glory; cock just giant as it slaps against his clothed abdomen, all veiny and curved as the reddened tip leaks onto the couch.
"woww, nanamin!" satoru croons obnoxiously, fanning himself with his hand as if he's a prim and proper lady about to collapse from shock. "how big you are."
"do you really have to be here for this?" the blonde man retorts, shooting a glare so deadly in his friend's direction that if looks could kill... your boyfriend definitely would be six feet under.
"oh, absolutely," he drawls back without missing a beat, smirking smugly as he crosses his legs against nanami's lap, as if watching his girlfriend prepare to give his co-worker a blowjob is the most normal situation possible. "i'll be here the whooole time. better get used to it."
rolling your eyes at satoru's relentless teasing, you opt to distract nanami from the white-haired sorcerer's interjections by wrapping a hand around his bare length (let it be noted that you definitely cannot fit his entire girthy base in your grip.)
nanami lets out a raspy, broken groan at the contact, squeezing his eyes tightly shut as he tries to keep himself together. but the way his cock visibly jumps under your touch doesn't go unnoticed by you or satoru.
"relax for me, kento," you coo sweetly, giving him a light squeeze to make sure he's paying attention to your words. "gonna make you feel good, yeah?"
he can only release a few incoherent mumbles in response, his head falling back against the couch when you start to languidly stroke him, moving your hand from tip to base with well-practised movements.
"fuck, that's so hot," satoru groans as he shifts a little closer to get a better view of you working his uptight colleague with your fist, his own sweatpants starting to visibly tent too. "keep going, pretty girl."
you smile again at the praise, your thighs rubbing together subtly underneath satoru's baggy shirt. but he notices it, because of course he does, he knows your body's reactions like the back of his hand. "see that, nanamin? she loves it when you praise her. i hope you're taking mental notes right now."
nanami can only watch in awe as you lean down to press your soft lips to the leaking tip of his cock, his brain completely scrambled already from only a few touches. jesus, he can't believe he almost didn't agree to take part in this; he’s silently thanking his past self for having the confidence to go through with it right now.
"that's... you're doing good— so good." he pushes out, the words more of a garbled mess than anything as his toned hips involuntarily buck lightly into your hand, in search of more and more friction.
a small, satisfied hum spills from your lips at the praise, your tongue instinctively flicking out to lap at the pearlescent rivulets of pre-cum just streaming from his pudgy tip.
it’s not as sweet as satoru’s — it has a bit more of a salty tang. but it’s not exactly unpleasant either, and you find yourself digging the tip of your tongue into his slit to gather more of the interesting new flavour.
"ah!" nanami gasps loudly, the sound escaping from him without permission. his eyes fly open to fall squarely on you as you start suckling on his tip, finding himself being rendered completely speechless at the way you’re making him feel already — and you’ve only just started.
he’s in for a long night.
“yeahh, she’s good, isn’t she?” satoru croons proudly from beside him, reminding nanami of his presence yet again. but he can’t bring himself to be too mad at his colleague when he’s giving him access to his perfect girlfriend with such a sweet mouth.
“mhm,” the blonde man grunts out, his head rolling to the side slightly. he quickly shuts his eyes, not wanting to catch sight of satoru while he’s receiving such intense pleasure; the last thing he wants is to ruin his upcoming orgasm. “you’re a lu— ah, a lucky man.”
“oh, i know i am,” satoru hums smugly, his hand still resting on your hair giving you a gentle push in a silent encouragement to move your head forward. “come on, baby. i know you can take more of him than that.”
with the help of your boyfriend’s guiding hand, you find yourself sinking more of nanami’s thick cock into your mouth, inch by girthy inch until your nose bumps against the small patch of trimmed blonde hair at the bottom of his abdomen.
“oh, fuuuck…” nanami groans roughly, gripping the fabric of the couch so hard his knuckles are whitening as he tries to hold himself back from just fucking into your mouth like a feral animal.
“it’s okay if you want be rough, nanamin,” the white-haired sorcerer murmurs against the shell of his ear, as if directly reading his thoughts. “she doesn’t mind. she’s your stress relief, remember?”
like the gentleman he is, nanami makes sure to make eye contact with you to check for any signs of hesitance first. but when he doesn’t find any; he just can’t hold himself back from thrusting his hips up into the wet cavern of your mouth.
you try your absolute best to kneel there and take it, but you simply can’t help the way you choke around his sheer length when his tip hits the back of your throat with a lewd thwack!, causing both he and satoru to moan in response.
“yeahhh, you look so pretty choking on nanamin’s cock, babygirl.” satoru groans proudly, trailing his spare hand down to leisurely palm the bulge in his own pants as he observes the scene before him.
your boyfriend’s praise makes you audibly mewl around the blonde man’s cock, the vibrations around his shaft making nanami slap satoru’s hand out of your hair to grab it himself, keeping you in place as he continues rutting into your mouth with reckless abandon.
“just like that, just like that.” nanami chants over and over like a mantra, starting to completely forget about any and all stress he has as he loses himself to the overwhelming pleasure you’re giving him.
“you’re close, aren’t you?” satoru chimes in with a satisfied smirk stretching across his lips as he leans in unnecessarily close to nanami’s ear to whisper. “don’t worry about pulling out, she’ll swallow it all.”
his colleague’s lewd words practically send nanami hurtling over the edge, his grip on your hair tightening to a borderline painful degree as he spills rope after rope of hot, thick cum straight down your throat.
it takes a few deep gulps for you to swallow everything nanami gave you, but there’s just so much of it that a few stray drops spill from the edges of your lips and onto the carpet. shit — you’ll have to clean that up later.
“thaat’s it. such a good girl,” satoru purrs warmly, his eyes alight with affection as he reaches down to stroke your cheek with his thumb, enjoying the dazed expression across your pretty features. “i think you broke nanamin, though.”
looking up at nanami, you can instantly see the visual evidence of what your boyfriend means by you breaking nanami.
the blonde man looks completely debauched — chest rapidly rising and falling as he pants harshly in an attempt to come down from the intensity of his orgasm and eyes squeezed shut so tightly it would appear that he's in some sort of pain if you didn't know better.
"you alright there, kento?" you ask half-teasingly, tapping his thigh gently to try and gain his attention. (it doesn't work; he's clearly out of it.)
satoru is grinning like a madman beside him on the couch, clearly more than pleased with how well his girlfriend is doing unravelling his uptight co-worker so far. "aww, what a shame! he's chickening out before he can even get a feel of your tight little pussy."
you huff, lean up to swat at the white-haired sorcerer's arm in an attempt to get him to shut up, which only causes him to scoop you up in his arms again and place a big wet kiss on your lips in retaliation, seemingly uncaring of the lingering tase of nanami on them.
giggling, you attempt to wriggle out of his grip, which accidentally causes your ass to brush against nanami's still half-hard cock as a result; and that seems to snap him right out of his reverie.
nanami's entire body jolts to attention, a low groan leaving his lips as he glances down at where you're unintentionally pressed against him. and, god, if your mouth made him cum that hard that he forgot where he was for a few moments, just how much better must your pussy be?
"finally back with us, hmm?" satoru drawls playfully, reaching around you to punch his colleague's shoulder a little harder than necessary, causing the blonde man to scowl in response.
"quiet, gojo." he mutters under his breath, unable to tear his eyes away from the slip of your panties he can just about see from underneath the hem of your baggy shirt.
oh, what he'd give for just one little taste right now...
"don't even think about it," satoru cuts in, snapping him from his thoughts. oh dear, did he say that out loud? he really does need to get control of himself. "if you taste her you'll get addicted, and we can't have that."
nanami can't help but feel slightly disappointed at this — he's always been the type to return the favour, and not being able to do the same for you makes a subtle frown tug at his lips.
but he knows that he has no right to ask for anything more than what he's being offered, seeing as you're not his. (and it's not like he can complain if he gets to be inside that pretty pussy that's been on his mind since satoru showed him his lockscreen last week.)
"are you just gonna sit there, nanamin?" satoru chuckles in teasing disapproval, shaking his head and lifting up the hem of your (his) baggy shirt to reveal the considerable wet spot painting the crotch of your panties. "or are you gonna hurry up and take care of my girl? you knoow, it's bad manners to leave a lady waiting while she's this needy."
"ahem. my apologies, darling," nanami mutters hoarsely, using every ounce of self-control he has left to forcefully tear his eyes away from your underwear and meet your eyes. he gestures to his lap, giving you the strongest smile he can muster right now. "would you like to take a seat?"
"still so well-mannered." you giggle lightly, although you oblige without question, crawling away from satoru to perch yourself upon nanami's wide thighs. he instinctively reaches out to grasp your hips with two large hands, keeping you steady.
"so... can i—?" nanami mutters quietly to satoru, as if sharing a well-kept secret, and not as if he's asking for permission to touch another man's girlfriend's cunt. jesus, is he out of his comfort zone right now.
"can you touch her? yes, yes, of course," the white-haired sorcerer replies quickly with a dismissive wave of his hand, as if eager to get this underway already so he can sit back and enjoy the show. "oh, and you have to make her cum on your fingers atleast once before you can fuck her. house rules."
nanami isn't complaining about this rule.
he owes you an orgasm anyway, but when he slides your soiled panties to the side and gets an eyeful of your pretty pussy, he feels as if it would be a crime not to put his fingers inside of you.
ever the gentleman, nanami looks up at you from behind his lopsided goggles one more time to check for any signs of hesitation, and when he still doesn't find any, he slowly dips two thick fingers between your folds, caressing your slick flesh.
you release a small sigh at the touch, your eyelids fluttering as a wave of pleasure washes over you. he's careful and gentle with his ministrations; since he obviously isn't familiar with what you like.
but you can tell he's the type to be a quick learner.
it isn't long before nanami has you squirming and whining on his lap, the two fingers he eased inside of your dripping entrance scissoring and exploring your sloppy hole, spreading you open bit by bit.
"mmm, you like that, pretty girl?" satoru asks raspily from behind you, lazily palming his clothed erection again as he observes your reactions to his colleague's touch. "is he making you feel good?"
"y-yeahhh." is all you can get out in your daze, your back arching forwards in an unconscious action when nanami's thumb finds your swollen clit, lightly pressing the rough pad of it down on the puffy bud.
satoru leans back in so his chin is almost resting on nanami's shoulder, his warm, laboured breaths caressing the lobe of the other man's ear. "her favourite thing is when you rub lil' circles on her clit." he whispers, voice low and teasing.
against his will, a shiver ripples down nanami's spine in response to satoru's words, and he finds himself following them like they were a command, his thumb sloppily circling your pretty clit and emitting a soft gasp from your parted lips.
"c-close, kento." you mutter breathlessly, your hips beginning to grind down onto his fingers in search of more friction. satoru is quick to assist, abandoning palming himself and wrapping his an arm around your waist to help you bounce on the other man's digits more smoothly.
"thank you, thank you!" you cry out to your boyfriend, turning your head to meet his lips in an uncoordinated, messy kiss inches from nanami's face. the blonde man finds his fingers unconsciously speeding up as he observes the interaction, fucking you on them hard and fast.
within moments, you're coming undone.
a soundless cry falls from your lips as your body falls limp between the two men, your cunt clenching and unclenching around nanami's fingers in search of something to milk.
"god. she looks even more beautiful when she cums... i-i need to feel her. can i feel her, satoru?" comes nanami's broken voice from somewhere nearby, your blissed out state making your vision swim and your hearing fuzzy.
"woow. called me by my first name and everything!" that's satoru, obviously. he sounds overwhelmingly smug. "if i knew my girlfriend would get you this pussydrunk, i'd have let you have a turn with her ages ago."
their bickering becomes background noise as you bathe in the afterglow of your orgasm, but you vaguely register your baggy shirt being removed and your body being repositioned so you're splayed across the couch on your back.
"darling? do you need a moment or can i..." it's nanami's voice again. you manage to blink one eye open to find him hunched over you, burly arms either side of your head and his blonde tresses sticking to his forehead with sweat. casting your vision down, you can see his cock, flushed and angry with precum dripping from the tip once again, hovering just above your entrance.
"please." you mewl, the word slurred from lingering pleasure as you weakly grind your hips up into his erection, causing him to release a groan from deep in his throat.
"go ahead. give my girl what she wants," satoru grunts from somewhere behind nanami, the slick sounds filling the air indicating that he's finally released his cock from the confines of his sweatpants and started jerking himself off. "and you better give it to her good."
"i will," nanami mutters as he slowly but surely, pushes his monster of a cock past that first tight ring of muscle that is your entrance. "f-fuck— i will."
"i think that's the — ah — first time i've ever head you curse, nanamin." the white-haired man remarks playfully, his hips bucking up into his closed fist as he watches his colleague prepare to fuck his girlfriend. damn, this is even hotter than he expected.
"don't get used to it." he grunts in response, his arms visibly shaking above you as he tries to hold himself back from just slamming all the way into you. but no, he's still a gentleman; even now. he'll start slowly, atleast.
it takes a few long moments for nanami to push all of his ridiculously thick inches into you, and when he finally bottoms out, his heavy balls flush against your ass, both of you moan. he's stretching you out so good, just as much (if not more so) than satoru does.
the blonde man, to his credit, does manage to give you a while to adjust to the new intrusion filling you up, but it isn't long before he snaps, the animalistic side of him coming out as he begins rutting his hips into you like it's his last day on earth.
"a-ah! fuck, kento!" you cry breathlessly, your legs quickly locking around his waist for some type of support as he continues to use you like his own person cocksleeve, the couch rocking back and forth with the suddenly ruthless movements.
"uh huhh," satoru croons as he works his own cock faster, his blindfold discarded somewhere nearby so he can get the clearest view of nanami pounding his girlfriend into the couch. "use her to get rid of all that pesky stress."
"sorry, sweetheart — shit, sorry," nanami pants above you, his body seemingly having a mind of its own as he continues to drive his cock in and out of you, barely giving you a moment to breathe in between the rough thrusts. "can't stop."
you'd tell him it was okay, that it feels good, but right now you can't form a single coherent thought. you're completely and utterly cockdrunk, and there isn't even a doubt about it.
"hey — mmm — she really likes it when you play with her tits while you're fuckin' her." satoru adds helpfully, causing nanami to growl out something akin to thanks in response.
suddenly, a large hand is palming one of your bouncing breasts, squeezing and kneading the supple flesh and making you clench tightly around the cock inside of you.
nanami curses yet again under his breath, his eyes visibly rolling back in his head behind the fogged up lenses of his goggles. "so tight, darling. practically squeezing around me like a v-vice."
at his words, a broken moan gets ripped from your throat, your ankles digging into the muscles of his lower back in an attempt to pull him in even deeper. all you seem to be able to say is "more, more, more."
"that— ngh, that means she's close," satoru gasps out, his cock twitching beneath his fist as he continues to jerk himself off like there's no tomorrow. "rub... rub her clit like y'did earlier again."
instantly complying to the other man's command, two of nanami's thick fingers find your puffy little bud again, rubbing uncoordinated circles as he continues to pound into you like an animal in heat. jesus, he can't even remember what he was stressed about anymore.
"o-oh, shit!" you almost scream, the stimulation on your sensitive bud and the repeated slams of nanami's pudgy cockhead against your g spot driving you half-insane with pleasure. you can feel an all-too-familiar coil start to spool in the depths of your stomach, threatening to unravel at any given moment.
"yeah, that's it, baby," satoru praises breathlessly, his own orgasm approaching as he continues grinding into his fist like a desperate virgin. "cum all over nanamin's cock for me."
the dual sensations of your boyfriend's words and the thrusting of nanami's sinful hips has you spiralling uncontrollably over the edge, your second high of the night somehow even more intense than the first. you barely even have time to register the liquid just spraying from your cunt and soaking nanami's heavy balls where they're slapping against your ass with a lewd thwack! each time.
"god, so perfect, can't last—" nanami rambles in a very pussydrunk manner, his movements suddenly growing considerably more uncoordinated and sloppy as he struggles to find the strength to hold himself up. "gojo, where can i...?"
"not inside," satoru responds firmly, his voice the most coherent it's been since he started jerking himself off. it's clear there's no room for argument on this one. "that's for me only."
nodding shakily, nanami manages to pull his throbbing cock out just in a nick of time, rope after rope of his goopy cum splattering across the supple skin of your stomach, the stream going on for so long it seems like it'll never stop.
somewhere behind the blonde man, a low, raspy groan is the tell-tale sign that satoru has just finished too, probably coating his own hand with his sticky release.
it's silent for a few blissful moments, all three of you just basking in the afterglow of your respective orgasms. but of course, satoru gojo is a man who can never stay quite for long, so he says—
"hey, maybe we should do a threesome next time."
"next time?" nanami chokes out weakly, barely managing to lift his head up to glance over at this colleague with two raised eyebrows.
"yeah, next time," satoru shrugs nonchalantly, as if the proposal was nothing short of normal. "i know i said i'd only let you do this once, but... sharing is caring, right?"
© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.
LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!
#★sugoroo#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#nanami kento#nanami x reader#nanami x you#kento x reader#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru#gojo smut#nanami smut
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the first time drew saw actress!reader.
𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── when drew was forced by madelyn to come watch this new show with her and the rest of the cast he didn’t expect to have his heart captured by the mesmerising woman on the screen.
𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey
author’s note: this takes place in 2023 during the filming of obx 4 which is when game of thrones started airing in my timeline also actress!reader is anywhere between 19-22 years old.
drew was sprawled across the couch in his hotel room, aimlessly scrolling. after a long day of filming under the hot and heavy sun of morocco, he had no intention of doing anything that required effort. his plan was to simply scroll until his eyes got heavy and he knocked out, but knowing his insomnia that wouldn’t be until the early hours of the morning.
glancing at the time displayed on his phone ten pm it read, he let out a heavy sigh, though his body ached with exhaustion, his mind would not shut off. but before he could put down his phone and try to force himself to sleep, a knock sounded on the door “yeah?”
“drew! its maddie.”
“maddie?” he spoke softly, what’s she doing up at this time. usually she was asleep the moment she got back to the hotel. “come in, its open.”
she came tumbling through the door, coming to a stop in front of the couch where he laid. drew couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched her. ���what’s up?”
“drew! you gotta come watch this new show with us!” her hands were placed on her hips as she looked down at him.
drew sighed, a noise of exhaustion. “i can’t be fucked getting up, cline.” her face scrunched up, ready to dispute him.
“drew you have to! the last episode of season one just came out and i watched the first episode when it aired and it was so good that i stopped watching so that we could binge it all when the season finished!”
recognition sparked on his face. “wait is this game of thrones? i remember you saying how good the first episode was, like two months ago.”
madelyn’s face grew excited at the fact that he remembered. “yeah! please please, you have to come watch it, jd, bailey, chase, laci, rudy and austin are already in my room waiting.”
drew mulled over the idea for a moment. either he could rot in his room until his call time tomorrow or hang out with his friends and possibly watch a good show, if maddie’s high praise was anything to go by.
“yeah, alright let’s go.” he stood up from the couch, stretching his arms and grabbing his phone to follow maddie, who was already halfway out the door, unable to wait any longer.
when they arrived at her room, the first episode was already lined up on the screen, the hbo logo blaring in the dark room. drew greeted everyone and then took a seat on the spare love seat by the window. “you guys get forced too?” he questioned.
“yup.” jd breathed out. “nah i’ve been wanting to watch this, i remember hearing about it when they started filming, it’s supposed to be like super graphic and vulgar.” madison commented. “shit, really? i know nothing about this show, other than the fact that cline can’t shut up about it.” austin added. chuckles sounded across the room, and madelyn yelled from the kitchen where the popcorn she was making turned in the microwave. “y’all are about to thank me!”
drew simply sat in silence, with the amount maddie was praising this show, his skepticism grew, no way this show was that good. someone pressed play as soon as madelyn was seated, he didn’t see who. the intro song of the show blasted through the room and drew settled back into his seat.
“yo, pass me the popcorn?” chase rolled up the bag and chucked it across the room from where he was sat, drew caught it with ease.
he couldn’t lie, the show was good, fifteen minutes in and he was hooked. and just when he thought that it couldn’t get better, you came on the screen.
“holy fuck who is that?” jd’s voice rang out, but drew felt as though his voice came from somewhere far away. he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. “she’s beautiful right?” madelyn sighed out. mummers of agreement sounded from the people sitting in the room. “her name’s y/n y/l/n.”
“y/n” drew repeated to himself softly, almost as he was testing the feel of your name in his mouth. rolling the syllables on his tongue, in that moment he decided that no other word would ever compare to the way your name felt on his lips.
dressed in a flowing dress with daring cuts exposing your seemingly soft skin, he wondered what would it feel like if he ran his palms along the smooth expansion. your hair sliver, long and loose to play visenya targaryen, the last targaryen, the daughter of rhaegar targaryen and elia martell. drew felt as though no one had ever looked more stunning in the history of the world.
“drew? you all good man?” someone asked, he didn’t know who, he couldn’t hear or think of anything beyond you and the performance you were giving. “i think starkey’s got a crush.” rudy sang out, and the rest laughed. but drew couldn’t care less, too busy watching you.
they watched two more episodes and as the third episode came to an end drew finally broke out of his trance. while the rest occasionally made comments during the show drew could not tear himself away from the screen, afraid that if he looked away he would miss you.
“i gotta hand it to you, cline, i’m hooked. that shit was amazing!” carlacia grinned. “i fucking told you guys!” she retorted back. “but aside from that, starkey? what did you think?” she smirked at him.
“yeah, that was good.” drew’s body tingling “that’s it? just good? you don’t wanna talk about the moon eyes you were making every time visenya came on screen?” drew cheeks tinged pink. “yeah, she’s pretty.” “aye, shot your shot man, she’s so fine.” madison teased.
as drew made his way back to his room he looked at the time, two am, damn he didn’t even realise time had passed that quick. sliding into his bed after taking a quick shower, he couldn’t help himself but run a quick search of you on google. “fuck.” the soft curse slipping from his lips, just when he thought you couldn’t get hotter, he saw pictures of you, not in costume, naturally a brunette, he was so fucked. fuck it, he quickly searched up your name on instagram.
you were laying in bed scrolling through instagram when a notification popped up.
drewstarkey started following you. follow back?
first one, do you like it? if you do i’ll keep writing. reblogs and comments are welcome and appreciated.
#𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 actress!reader x drew starkey works#drew starkey#drew starkey smut#drew starkey x actress!reader#drew starkey x you#drew starkey fic#drew starkey fluff#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron#outer banks#rafe cameron smut#rafe fanfiction#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#rafe x reader
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CURSED SPIRIT — y.o
⛤ curse! yuuta okkotsu x fem! reader
yuuta okkotsu being your one and only curse.
cw. smut. unprotected sex. creampies. multiple orgasms. groping. dry humping. public sex-ish. fingering. slight oral (f. receiving). overstimulation. thigh fucking. somnophilia. possessiveness. yandere tendencies. mentions of violence. +18!
wc: 1.2k
a/n: inspired by @deviants-forest work! etc. (go check it out) also happy kinktober! :)
Curse!yuuta who creeps up your back, his hands finding your waist and his lips tickle your ear as he’s whispering how much he needs you on a subway train to home. “Not now…” you whisper over your shoulder to him trying not to be noticeable by others who crowded you and payed no mind, too busy on their phones. You bit your bottom lip when he presses himself against your ass in one movement already having your blood rush like crazy. You try to keep your composure like nothings bothering you but yuuta’s hard on humping into you desperately, whining in your ear and his cold hands reaching under your shirt to grope your boob. “need you ‘s bad” he was always touchy, could never keep his hands off you.
Curse!yuuta who doesn’t mind your sorcerer friends as long as they don’t get too close. Your friends can sense the heavy weight of cursed energy from you, even if they got close it was too much to bare sense yuuta was around, the air would fill thick and negative. You could barely go out with them to eat without his fingers buried in your cunt and playing your clit. They would ask you if you were okay when your head is down on the table but you just excuse it as you were not feeling well for a second but yuuta is grinning ear to ear, amused how your well your taking his slender fingers, curling them inside and you can’t help but squirm in your seat acting like your stomach is just hurting though you were about to orgasm. “Please yuuta..” you whisper to him “Come on you can cum on my fingers..” his raspy tone sending you shivers down your back.
Curse!yuuta who watches an “old friend” hug you, his hands in places that shouldn’t be. After you would praise yuuta for staying calm but yuuta would give shake his head only because you would be upset if he did anything and simply gave you a warning “Next time I’ll break his arm” “You can’t be serious” you sigh, you always knew he was.
Curse!yuuta who clenches his fist watching some prick try to flirt with you in front of him knowing he can’t be seen. Even the second time you reject him you can feel yuuta’s anger grow by the second that in any moment he would take action. “I-i have a boyfriend-“ praying yuuta doesn’t get violent “I don’t see him?” His hand coming up to touch your shoulder now he’s on the floor shouting in pain, blood from his broken nose all over his hands, shaken up that he didn’t see anyone hit him? Was he going crazy? “Pathetic” Yuuta mutters luckily he held back a lot, he could do so much worse and this wasn’t the first time.
Curse!yuuta who gets anxious that you might hate him when you get into arguments. He feels like he can’t exist without you, he’s nothing without you and the thought of you hating him makes his heart sink and scared that he’ll be all alone. He didn’t care about anyone else he just needed you. The amount of times you got tired of telling him not to hurt people and you could handle the situation yourself. He’ll plead you not to hate him and apologized excessively. “We can talk about this tomorrow” his stomach sinking by the tone of your voice that it will all end up to you hating him. He couldn’t stand the feeling.
Curse!yuuta who wants to let you know how much he loves you and how much he needs you, praying you don’t leave him or hate him. He glares at you in your sleeping state though he can’t wait til tomorrow he needed you to know now. “Please don’t hate me” “i love you so much” as he’s softly kissing your neck on each side, peeling your panties off. The cold air makes your cunt clench at his sight. He’s kissing the inner of your thighs sweetly and his lips makes contact with your pussy and a small whimper emits from your mouth. “Yuuta” you utter half sleep thinking it was only a sex dream, you were a heavy sleeper at that. he’s burying his lips between your folds trying to get more like he was so starved. If he can just make you feel good you won’t be mad at him and you can forgive him.
Curse!yuuta who can’t wait any longer, his dick pulsating through his pants even how much he gets drunk off your pussy, he loves the taste of it every time but he’s rutting against the mattress. Brings your thighs together to slip his cock between, throwing his head back letting out quiet moans as his cock is rubbing against your clit between your thighs. Your eyelids almost twitching open. He spreads your legs apart and sinks his dick into you watching your pretty lashes flutter at the sudden pleasure of you being spread apart. “Yu..?” You begin to stir awake, he kisses your lips before you start to fully take consciousness. “I don’t want you to hate me” “forgive me please” as he’s thrusting harsh inside you and swallowing your lips. By the time your walls were the shape of him every time he used you so it was easy for him to slide right in, you were made for him and he was made for you was the thought that brought him comfort. His fingers entwines with yours, his cock continuously rubbing hard in your insides. “Yuuta!” You moaned beautifully in his ear, your hand clawing at his back, yuuta loved it, it didn’t hurt him because you could never hurt him he didn’t mind it.
Curse!yuuta not wanting to stop, he’ll never get tired of cumming and filling up your pussy. You’ll be overstimulated begging him to stop it was awfully much to handle, you couldn’t cum anymore but you did as he’s plunging his cock in your abused cunt. The choke sobs and sounds of squelching filled the room “Need you-need you tell me you love me…please f-forgive me..ah!” Rubbing your clit increasing more nerves. “I-i love you yuuta! Ah-I really do! I could never be mad at you” Your words lifting weight off his chest still pounding into you. Holding you in a warm embrace to finish inside you. When he did filling up your womb one last time with his string of cum, your nails dig into his back letting your last orgasms crash into you. You let out a cry into his shoulder, your body trembles.
Curse!yuuta who needs constant reassurance you’ll never leave him, placing gentle kisses on each part of his face. Even though he’s nothing but a curse to you, being invisible to the outside world, Has a hard time showing remorse it’s just what he does to protect you, he somewhat doesn’t know that but knows he can be a bit possessive he just can’t help the urges of anyone getting close to you or worse even laying a finger.
Curse!yuuta bending you over the counter in the morning as you were trying to make yourself breakfast, last night was rough you were a bit sore but yuuta still misses your pussy. “Just a quick one I promise! I miss you so much! I’m just displaying my love for you—“ he pushes himself inside your worn out cunt from last night once again, you whimper at the feeling each time he rolls his hips when his balls slap against you. His hands reaching to your tit, massaging it in his palms. You don’t think you could ever break the curse from yuuta okkotsu.
#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#yuta smut#yuuta smut#yuta okkotsu x reader#yuta okkotsu smut#jjk x you#jjk yuta#yuta x reader#yuta x y/n#kinktober#yuuta okkotsu smut
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Coffee
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: cross-posted on ao3, bit buildup and dialouge heavy oops, no use of y/n, female reader, sub spencer and dom-ish reader (you're a bit sweet on him), spencer whines so much, degradation and praise kink (spencer), explicit consent, oral (fem receiving), coming untouched, multiple orgasms, protected p in v sex, riding, coming prematurely, overstimulation, dacryphilia, aftercare
Word Count: 3.2k
Summary: You discover something about Spencer after a sleepless night, and it doesn't leave your head until you can sort it out in a hotel room.
A/N: my first time writing smut so I hope it's okay :P comments/reblogs would be super appreciated but don't feel obligated!
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It started over coffee. It was a ritual, your favorite of the several you and Spencer shared. You would both come into work, way before anyone got there. Spencer would pour his coffee with its obscene amount of sugar, and you'd slot beside him to pour yours with its obscene amount of creamer. You'd talk, or Spencer would, normally about whatever obscure theory he was fixating on.
Today though, you made a beeline for your desk after filling your cup. It had been a sleepless night, filled with nightmares of the horrors you saw on the regular in this field, and you had a mountain of paperwork to catch up on.
You'd hoped Spencer would leave it, and he would've with anyone else, but he always was too comfortable around you. As you stood, so did he, and as you moved to refill your cup, he grabbed your hand.
"Spencer," you said, trying to keep your voice gentle despite your irritation.
He looked pointedly at your oversized cup. "Caffeine overconsumption can worsen anxiety and insomnia," he started, in that tone that indicated a rant, "as well as inhibiting focus, which you need for this job- well, you need sleep too, but that ship has sailed, from the looks of it-"
"Spencer," you practically growled, "shut up and let me pour the damn coffee."
You hadn't meant to sound quite so mad, and an apology was about to leave your mouth before you noticed the blush painting Spencer's face.
Blush?
It was undeniable. There was splotchy color covering his cheeks and the tip of his ears in a way you'd only seen whenever Morgan teased him about his sex life. He'd hunched in on himself, this 6'1 man somehow making himself small in front of you. He wouldn't look you in the eye, which wasn't new, but it felt different this time, and it didn't take long to figure out why. His pupils were blown wide, overtaking his irises.
And you were gaping at him like an idiot. Your jaw snapped shut as Spencer nodded before speed-walking to his desk, as if he was hoping you wouldn't notice.
Of course you noticed. You noticed everything about Spencer, from the way he twisted his hands to his perpetually mismatched socks. You noticed so many miniscule habits that even Spencer himself probably didn't that you could've started a notebook with them; not that you needed to, since they immediately stored themselves in the front of your mind. Obviously, you noticed the glances when he thought you weren't looking, the way he sat next to you on every flight, and the million other things that he would never do for anyone else.
It was something unspoken between you, a closeness you couldn't or wouldn't act on. It was fragile, sugar-spun glass painted with the shades of brown in his puppy-dog eyes. You were so afraid to break it by acting too soon, too fast. You knew you were harsh, too much. But you also knew it would have to come to a head eventually.
God, you needed more coffee.
-
You had a case that day. Of course you had a case that day.
You're a professional, you reminded yourself as JJ briefed the team.
Fraternization was frowned upon, you thought as Spencer's hand sat dangerously close to yours on the flight.
Bad idea, you reasoned when Spencer looked up at you through his eyelashes as you connected evidence.
Terrible idea, really, you grasped at when Spencer didn't stop looking at you after that.
It was torture, going through the motions of an entire case with the image of a flustered Spencer playing on loop every time he spoke. You were out of it, distracted, and not because of that second cup of coffee.
It boiled over when you asked an officer to repeat himself for the third time. Hotch had asked you to follow him in that "I'm extremely disappointed" tone that he'd perfected.
He led you into an empty room, near-slamming the door shut.
"What is going on with you?" Hotch starts, before taking a breath and cutting himself off.
"Listen, whatever is happening between you two, I need you to sort it out as soon as possible," he says. You open your mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. "We're all profilers," he points out with a raised eyebrow. He sighs.
"We're staying at a hotel tonight. Sleep it off or... do whatever you need to." He leaves you alone in the room. You compose yourself before facing the rest of your team.
"Sort it out."
Fuck it.
-
It took hours to work up the courage. Hours of pacing around your room combing over every possibility in your head. Every rule that was being broken. But, Hotch had told you to do what you needed to. And that image of Spencer wouldn't leave your mind.
It must have been around 2 AM when you finally ended up knocking on his door. You expected he would be up, but it still surprised you how quickly the door swung open. He hadn't even changed into pajamas, and you realized that in your haze of worry, neither had you.
"We need to talk," you said, firm. Spencer gulped and moved aside to let you in. You stood near the edge of his bed, one hand on your hip. Spencer sat on the bed, gazing up at you with a look that would've been innocent to anyone else.
"This morning," you start with a sigh, "I didn't mean to be that rude." Spencer looks like he wants to say something, but he's holding his tongue. "But, from the looks of it," you continue, "you didn't mind."
Spencer's mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. Nothing comes out but a hitch of his breath. He's avoiding your eyes, staring past you to look at the blank wall. You can't have that.
You snap in front of his face, soft but stern, like you're trying to get a dog's attention. His eyes snap to you, pupils blown wide. “Look at me when I'm talking to you,” you say, in a gentle version of the tone you had used that morning.
He whimpers.
He fucking whimpers, maintaining eye contact like you'd asked him to.
You bite your lip slightly, rolling it between your teeth before letting it go. Spencer's face flushes that beautiful red as his hands fly to his crotch, trying in vain to cover a growing erection. You let out a laugh.
“Needy already? From me just talking to you? How pathetic, Spence.” Your voice is low and rough as you gently grab his wrists to move his hands. “Don't. I want to see you.”
The show of control has Spencer whimpering again, starting up at you pathetically as he gets impossibly redder. He's so far gone already, and it's filling your head with things you want to do to him, but you have to make sure he's truly okay with it first.
“Spencer,” you say as you let go of his wrists, earning you a whine, “can you come back to me for a second?” He just whines again, a far-off look on his face, so you let his breathing level out before you tilt his head towards you and pat his face until he looks at you again.
“Spencer,” you say again, still holding his face, “I need to know you want this.” He nods, almost frantic, but you tut at him. “Words,” you scold.
“I do, yes, I need it, please, anything-” Spencer babbles, before you lean down to cut him off with a bruising kiss. He whines immediately, letting you add tongue. You bite at his lower lip, making him moan.
Spencer pulls away to beg. “Please,” he says, “please, I need-” He cuts himself off with a whine, frustration evident.
“Aw, my stupid baby,” you coo, straightening up again. “What is it? Can't you talk, or are you that gone already?”
Spencer whimpers, flushing more at your degradation. “I wanna- I wanna taste you. Please.”
It takes you a second to process that. Spencer Reid, notorious germaphobe, wanted to eat you out. You paused so long that Spencer started to look worried. You unsuccessfully tried to form words a few times and then-
“Knees. Now.”
Your voice sounded commanding, even to you, so it was no surprise that Spencer scrambled to kneel. You stripped slowly, carefully, watching him to make sure he was staying still.
When you were naked, you took Spencer's place on the bed, spreading your legs. He slotted between your thighs, leaning his head on one and mouthing at it. You brought your hands up to his hair, petting it.
“Good boy,” you croon, “so patient for me.” Spencer is purely blissed out below you, all kiss-swollen lips and flushed cheeks. He looks like he'd be content to stay leaning on your thigh forever, just mouthing and biting, but you're impatient.
You grab his hair, gently pulling him to where you want him. He looks up at you, as if asking for permission. “Go ahead,” you grant. He nods and licks a stripe between your folds before circling his tongue around your clit. Your breathing quickens as your hand tightens in his hair and you let out a low moan.
Spencer whines around your clit, circling one of his lithe fingers around your hole before pushing it in, searching for the bundle of muscles that would make you shake. He finds it when you clench around him, and he adds another finger to keep curling into it as he sucks on your clit in earnest.
You're whimpering praises, “good boy”s and “so good”s, as Spencer keeps whining against you and sending shocks of pleasure through your body.
He switches the place of his fingers and tongue, using his thumb to circle your clit while his tongue fucks into you.
Your hand tightens in his hair, a borderline pull, and the feeling of Spencer whining in you sends you over the edge with a curse. He laps at you until you're squirming under him, so you use your hold in his hair to pull him back.
He looks heavenly, your slick and cum coating his mouth and chin as he pants. He smiles up at you dumbly.
“Fuck,” you moan. A pang of guilt hits you as you realize you've been ignoring Spencer's (probably painful by now) erection. You're opening your mouth to offer something when you notice the wet spot on the crotch of his pants. He avoids your gaze when he realizes you've figured it out.
“Spence,” you start, “did you-” He cuts you off with an apology. “I'm sorry, I- You just…” he trails off. You gape at him for a second, shaking your head.
“Don't apologize,” you say sternly. You pat the spot on the bed next to you, sending Spencer scrambling to get up, still blushing furiously.
You grab his hand once he's sat, trying to be gentle. “Do you want to stop?” you question. “No!” Spencer almost yells as soon as the words leave your mouth. “No,” he says again, quieter but just as desperate.
“What do you want?” you question. You like controlling him, you really do, but you also want to spoil him after he made you feel so good.
“Wanna be inside you,” he mumbles, staring at you with those big, doe eyes. You pause for a second- God, he needs to stop saying things that make you pause- before you crash your lips into his, frantically stripping him out of his clothes.
You get him down to his boxers before pulling him into your lap, licking into his mouth for what feels like an eternity. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and it's fucking divine. Unfortunately, you do have a need to breathe.
You pull away, touching your forehead to his as you pant. You break the trail of spit between your lips as you move to his neck to bite and suck a hickey too high up to be covered by his collar.
Spencer squirms and whines underneath you as he hardens again. You grind against him in circles, puffing against the mark you'd left. Finally feeling the outline of his dick reminds you of one glaring, unfortunate fact.
“I don't have protection,” you say, moving back from his neck. Spencer bites his lip, fidgeting with the back of your shirt. “I do,” he practically whispers. You nod to give him permission to go grab it, scooting over to give Spencer space to lay down like you want him to.
“Spence,” you say, grabbing his attention from his place at his go-bag. “You want a safeword?” you question when you have his attention. He hums. “Color system work?” you follow up. He hums again, turning around with a condom and a small lube bottle.
You bite your lips at the implication of getting to feel him inside you. “Come lay down,” you invite, patting the space beside you. He comes willingly, settling rigidly as he sets the items on the nightstand.
You move to sit on his thigh, rubbing his chest to soothe him. “I'm gonna ride you. Is that okay, sweet boy?” you ask. He nods, frantic, flushing down to his chest.
You grab his face. “We've been over this, Spencer. Words.” you reprimand. “Yes, please, please.” Spencer slurs, breathing heavily just from you teasing him.
You move your hand to his hair, stroking gently. “Good boy,” you encourage, your other hand toying with his boxers. You look at your hand, then up at him. “Please,” he whines. You lift yourself off his thigh, tapping his legs so he raises them and taking his boxers off.
His cock springs free, red and leaking and coated with his earlier orgasm. He's-
“So pretty,” you whisper, reverent. Spencer's dick twitches at the praise, making you bite your lip. It matches the rest of him, tall and built but also lean. The thought of taking it has you unconsciously grinding against his thigh.
You don't realize you're staring until Spencer whines and puts his hands on your hips to get your attention. “Sorry, baby,” you apologize. You take his hands off your hips and hold them at the headboard with one hand while grabbing the condom of the nightstand with the other. He goes impossibly redder with the restraint, dick twitching again.
You hold the condom up to his mouth. “Can you hold this for me, Spence?” you prompt. He understands immediately, taking it in his teeth as you rip it open. You take the trash out of his mouth and flick it aside before rolling the condom on in a fluid motion that has Spencer bucking into your hand. You hold his hips down once your hand is free, a scolding expression on your face.
“Sorry,” Spencer mumbles. Your face softens. “It's okay, sweet boy,” you croon, “just be good for me for a bit more.” He nods frantically, an almost pout on his face.
You let go of his hip and his hands to grab and pop open the bottle of lube. Spencer whines from the lack of contact. “Shh,” you soothe as you squeeze lube on your hands, throwing the bottle somewhere in the mess of clothes on the floor before stroking it up and down his cock. He shakes with the effort to not buck into your hand this time.
“Good boy,” you praise as you lift your hips up and brace your hands on his stomach. He whines in anticipation.
Slowly, carefully, you sink yourself down inch by inch. Spencer's a mess beneath you, whimpering and shaking with the effort to not thrust up into you. It's a view that you would cross oceans to see, and he's giving it to you willingly.
“Good job, baby, so patient,” you pant as you bottom out and begin to rock your hips to get used to the full feeling. You squeeze your thighs around Spencer's hips, keeping one hand on his stomach and moving the other to pin his hands again.
He whines, impossibly loud, to the point the team can probably hear him since you're all in the same hallway, but you're way too focused on the stretch of Spencer's cock to care.
You take a shaking breath before you begin to move in earnest, going almost all the way up before slamming back down with a moan before setting a normal pace.
Tears prick at the corners of Spencer's eyes before rolling down his flushed cheeks as you move faster and faster, chasing the high coiling in the pit of your stomach, and then-
Spencer gives a long, drawn out whine and you feel the condom fill.
You stop moving, snapping your eyes open to glare at him. He's gone, completely, so you snap in front of his face again to get his attention.
“Spencer, did I say you could do that?” you scold. His eyes snap open, tears still streaming as he shakes his head frantically. “I'm sorry, I'll be good, I swear-”
“No,” you snap, cutting him off as you start rocking your hips again, “that was bad. And you know what bad boys get? Punished.” Spencer starts sobbing in earnest under you, hiccuping around the words he's trying to form. “I can't,” he cries, “I can't, too much, please-”
“Shh,” you soothe as you rock back and forth and feel him hardening inside you, “you know your safeword. You can be good for me, can't you?”
Spencer nods and whines and sobs frantically as you start moving again. With his spent dick twitching inside you and the sight of a man with an IQ of 187 hiccuping beneath you, it doesn't take long for you to cum again. The way you clench around Spencer sends him over the edge too, whining still.
You give Spencer a few minutes, let the tears stop and the fog in his eyes clear before you stand up off of him and tie off the condom. When you go to throw it away, he grabs your wrist. “Don't go,” he slurs sleepily, barely a whisper. “I'm just cleaning us up,” you assure him.
You toss the condom and grab a washcloth from the bathroom, cleaning the slick from Spencer's chin and your thighs as well as the dried cum off of his dick. He's too spent to have much of a reaction to anything, so you have to tap him to get his attention before tossing some of his boxers at him.
“You mind if I borrow something?” you ask as Spencer covers himself up. He nods, too tired for words, and you steal boxers and a sweater before crawling back into bed with him.
You're nearly asleep when he nudges you. “What is it?” you mumble. “Love you.” Spencer says, like it's the most sure he's ever been of anything. You open your eyes and stroke his face, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “Love you too.” you whisper, and it's the most sure you've ever been too.
Spencer spoons into your chest as you drift off, and despite it being so late, you wake up the most rested you've ever been.
#sub spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid smut#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction
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most to least with enha hyung line: dirty talk from flirting to foreplay to making their partner cum (and even while their cumming!) thoughts? who do u think would do it often and best?
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
jay ~ praise & extended foreplay
jay is such a sweetheart in bed, making sure you’re always comfortable, and feeling good. he puts your pleasure above his own (as any man should). “doing so well, pretty,” or “good girl,” are phrases he probably uses often, he def treats you like a pillow princess, not allowing you to do any of the work. he just wants you to feel good. when it comes to foreplay i can imagine jay taking his time with you, making sure you’re properly prepped before going any further.
heeseung ~ dirty talk/praise, required foreplay
heeseung is def a dirty talker, he loves the way you respond to his voice. “fuck, you’re soaking wet for me baby,” as he eases his thick cock inside your tight pussy, you struggling to take all of it. “good girl, take it all” as he pushes the rest of himself into you. some nights his mouth is more filthy than others. foreplay for heeseung is a requirement as he suffers from big dick syndrome, but he only does the minimal amount needed to get you prepped, as he’s eager to be inside you.
jake ~ heavy flirter, minimal foreplay
its no secret that jake is a huge sweet talker, so i can imagine he’d be the same in bed. definitely making flirty comments while his cock is shoved deep inside you. “you look so pretty right now,” he’d say as he watched you unravel on his cock. he’d smirk to himself, cockiness oozing out of him. jake is the type to want to skip foreplay cause he craves to be inside you, but he also doesn’t want to hurt you so he uses his fingers briefly to prep you beforehand.
sunghoon ~ dirty talk, little to no foreplay
sunghoon def has a dirty mouth, vile even. his usual sweet demeanor absolutely shifts in the bedroom, he becomes rough and dominant. “did i say you could stop?” he’d spew at you, your legs tired from fucking yourself on his cock. “give me your mouth,” he’d bark, shoving his thumb onto your tongue and applying pressure. he’s the type to literally just plunge into you with barely any warning, foreplay completely out the window. this doesn’t mean he doesn’t make sure you’re comfortable, he’s always checking your body language and expression for signs of discomfort.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
{a.n} thank you so much for the request!! i kinda focused on foreplay and bedroom language for this, i hope that’s okay!! hopefully i understood your request properly, and i hope you enjoy <3
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#evnseokz#✫ quinn posts#✫ quinn answers#enhypen headcanons#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen hyung line#enhypen smut#enha hard hours#enha hard thoughts#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#enha hyung line#enha headcanons#heeseung smut#jay smut#jake smut#sunghoon smut#heeseung headcanons#jay headcanons#jake headcanons#sunghoon headcanons#heeseung x reader#jake x reader#jongseong x reader#jay x reader#sunghoon x reader
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𖤐 𝕯𝖆𝖒𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝕾𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙 𖤐
pairing — fem!nun!reader x sin of lust!seonghwa ft. ateez as the other sins
rating — smut | mdni
wc — 13.7k
synopsis — life is dull when you are an immortal being such as seonghwa. every day is the same and you live (or rather, merely exist) through the times crushed by the burden of boredom. until something new comes along in the form of a kind, compassionate and righteous newly ordained nun. and so the sin of lust makes it his personal mission to corrupt the purest of souls: yours.
nsfw tags under the cut
tags — *strap up babes this is a wild one*, a tad of plot, my attempt at humor, heavy religious/blasphemous themes (don't read if you're uncomfy <3), inclusive writing (reader is not physically described), also reader is the embodiment of purity, 20240127 hwa (moodboard here), kinda slow burn kinda vibes, so much tensionnn, mentions of a pxrn magazine, sooo much teasing, hot make out sesh, dom!hwa, also very sly demon!hwa, virgin!reader, supernatural sex, corruption kink (obviously), masturbation (f), oral (f), the (un)holy trinity =teasing, begging, mind breaking), thigh riding, nipple play, clit play, some light impact play (kitty slaps + 1 face slap), breath play, hair pulling, fingering (f), monster cock!hwa, size training, pet names (angel, love, darling, sweetheart), praising, degradation (slut, whore), unprotected sex (don’t recommend), denied and ruined orgasm (f), dumbification, multiple orgasms (f), overstim, an ungodly amount of cum, cumflation, lil breeding kink at the very end
playlist — me and the devil by soap&skin, unholy by sam smith, going to hell by the pretty reckless, smells blood by kensuke ushio, american horror show by snow wife, toc toc toc by zazie
ateez masterlist | navigation
a/n: i had an absolute blast working over my fave fic ever posted. i love it even more now <3
also wanted to say a special thank you to @hwaightme who really helped me pulled through with one <3 ily bai <3333
Seonghwa was bored out of his mind. Like he had been for decades now, even centuries. He couldn’t remember what it was like to feel… well… anything at all really. And after years upon years of vegetating he didn’t care enough to even try anymore. He just laid there, endlessly staring blankly at the emptiness. He tapped his slender finger on his thigh, comfortably set on the bed of dark purple smoke he had materialized out of thin air.
He let out an audible annoyed groan as he was nonchalantly stretching out his long limbs which didn’t fail to catch the attention of the others.
“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked as he was feasting on some delicious meal he poofed out magically. He didn’t even take a second to look up the bucket full of chicken drumsticks, wrapping his greasy fingers around the bone and eyeing the meat like one would their life long partner. But then again, that wasn’t too far from the truth for Yeosang.
“I’m bored” Seonghwa complained, pushing his long silky black hair back on his forehead and choosing to ignore Yeosang’s lack of interest, dragging out the word on his tongue, transmitting his state of utter apathy to the others.
“Why don’t you go up and play with the Humans?” Mingi suggested while checking himself out in the mirror, readjusting his bangs and sliding his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose before striking a pose to himself, remaining completely self absorbed.
Once again, Seonghwa wasn’t getting much attention from his counterparts but he was somewhat used to it when it came to Mingi.
“What’s the point? They are no fun anyways!” Seonghwa sat up straight and crossed his long elegant legs on the cloud of cotton like smoke.
“Why?” Jongho asked, unlike the others he deigned looking in Seonghwa’s direction with somewhat surprised eyes. “You used to love going around and breaking up happy marriages, luring men and women in with your charms… That was always fun!” He said a little sluggishly, but still with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.
“Yeah… Maybe it was…” Seonghwa replied. “Two millenniums ago…” Another prolonged sigh. “When everything still felt fresh.” He got up from the comfortable cloud of smoke, pacing the endless void as his heels clacked and echoed with each step. “Now I know that Humans are only self centered vile creatures who only claim to have better morals than us because they are scared of the consequences that inevitably ensue from succumbing to their primal desires. When in fact, all they want is to eat, kill, have sex or not do anything at all. They are nothing short of underdeveloped, unevolved, spineless piles of meat”
“Meat? Where?” Yeosang said, finally lifting his head from the bucket of fried chicken to look around, eyes rounded in panic.
Not a single one of them reacted except Mingi who side eyed him with disdain before returning to more important matters at hand such as swapping the aviator sunglasses for narrower, more rectangular ones.
“That’s not entirely false” Jongho concluded, shrugging, easily giving up on the idea of comforting Seonghwa.
“I mean where’s the fun if you can’t break their minds to give in?” Seonghwa placed both hands on Jongho's shoulders, slightly shaking him while the latter lifelessly swayed back and forth. “What is the point if they don’t resist the call of evil? If you can’t erode their will like a rock made smooth by the incessant beating of the waves of the cruel sea.” Seonghwa huffed in a quiet, defeated voice, letting go of Jongho's shoulders to let his arms hang at his side while the other one stared at him blankly.
“Hm… okay” Jongho said before slipping off Seonghwa's reach to take his place on the fluffy bed of purple smoke, crashing head first onto the soft cloud.
A silence settled for what seemed like a long moment, even for them, immutable creatures to whom the very concept of time couldn't grasp at their permanence.
“Well you never tried with that girl…” Wooyoung said, slithering his way to Seonghwa without a sound. He had been watching the scene unfold from afar up until then. “What was her name already?” He snapped his fingers and looked to the side trying to access his memory. He turned to Mingi for help but he was too busy looking through the mirror, slipping on yet another dangling necklace and smirking, satisfied at the results. Wooyoung then tried his luck with Yeosang but he now had his face buried in a huge bowl of chicken broth, the empty bucket of fried chicken abandoned and slurping up a big mouthful of noodles in a rather unpleasant way. “Jongho?” he called, finally settling for the one that looked almost passed out on the bed of smoke, but still this one wielded the most positive result.
“Y/n” Jongho responded without conviction, still laying flat on the cloud of smoke, eyes growing heavier by the second.
“Yeah! That’s right!” Wooyoung exclaimed. “That girl is unbreakable,” he affirmed. Seonghwa scoffed and threw an unconvinced look to his peer.
“No really! I’ve tried to corrupt her but I really couldn’t”. Wooyoung said, raising his brows and talking loudly to support his point. But that did little to persuade Seonghwa, he was convinced that Wooyoung was just not as good as him at breaking the mortals’ souls. So yes, it was possible that Wooyoung had struggled with that girl. But not him, surely not him.
When Wooyoung saw Seonghwa was not budging his face dropped, and he turned to the others. “Please someone back me up on this one”
“Oh yeaaah… I remember her” Yeosang said, voice cut by various sounds of loud lips smacking and open mouth chewing. “Even I tried!”
Now, that was different. Seonghwa was interested. Most people are quick to indulge themselves when it comes to food. It was, so to speak, the easiest sin of the seven to succumb to. The Humans often say “there’s always room for dessert” and innocently eat a generous slice of cake after devouring a full meal. They don’t even notice Yeosang forcing the big spoon full of buttery sugary goodness into their mouths. They don’t even know Yeosang, himself, made this saying.
“She refused to even do as much as taste the delicious meal I made her sister cook for her even though she was starving… instead she gave it to the homeless man living not far from her apartment.” Yeosang stated with aberration shaking his head in disappointment before plunging right back in the ramyeon bowl.
“Hmmm” Seonghwa scratched his chin, his curiosity for the mysterious righteous girl was piqued.
“One day I tried to make her give in” Jongho chipped in from the dark purple smoke bed, even pushing himself on his elbows to look at the others, to Seonghwa’s surprise. “Made her miss the train and the bus she needed to take to get home after work and conveniently laid a juicy wallet stuffed full of even juicier bills in the gutter. All she had to do was to bend down and get the money to take a taxi to her apartment. But instead she took the money and walked to the police station to report the lost wallet, which was in the opposite direction by the way and then walked back home only to take a shower and leave right after to attend the charity soup kitchen. Anddd… Explaining this made me tired. Please don't talk to me for the next two hundred years, thank you.” Jongho concluded in one single breath before laying back down and turning on his side to nap comfortably.
“Maybe that one can be interesting after all” Seonghwa thought aloud, his pretty face taking on a pensive frown, his sharp brows joining on his forehead.
“Yeah no kidding” Wooyoung added. “And you don’t know the best part yet…” A perfidious and sly smile pulled on his handsome features. “She was just ordained nun.”
Seonghwa’s face turned serious as his eyes snapped back to Wooyoung. All of a sudden the girl went from distraction of the day to possibly the ultimate challenge of corruption Seonghwa has been waiting for god knows how long (and he surely did not use the expression lightly).
“Don’t mess with me, Envy!” Seonghwa spat, suddenly calling Wooyoung by his biblical name, testifying the gravity of his statement.
“I’m not kidding, Lust” Wooyoung mocked Seonghwa’s serious tone by also using his sin name. “She decided the life of material things wasn’t the way to happiness so she devoted herself to a humbler one, gifting her time and belongings to the poor and destitutes while she devoted her body to God. God only…” Wooyoung said, feigning nonchalance while he snaked an arm around Seonghwa’s shoulders. “Look… Here she is” he purred in his neck.
With a flick of his wrist, green smoke emanated from thin air and formed a pierced circle where in the middle the reflection of a girl could be seen. She was quiet, in the very humble room, a single window shone down onto the bed as she knelt at its side, palms joined, retreated into silent prayers.
She’s perfect.
That was Seonghwa’s first thought as an obscene smirk tugged at his mouth, his tongue swiping across his lips making them shiny and wet. He eyed the girl kneeling by the bed as he lowered his chin, one strand of hair falling over the piercing siren eyes. The black and white uniform she was wearing, the habit, couldn’t fool the seasoned eyes of Seonghwa. All the fabric in the world couldn’t hide away the glorious curves of her body, the beautiful arch of her back leading to the roundness of her bottom gently resting on her heels. The holy swells of her chest softly lifting the thick black material of the habit and the simple wooden cross held by humble twine she was wearing around her neck.
Divine.
Was what described her best.
“She’s stunning,” Seonghwa huffed in a soft murmur, mesmerized and captivated by the image Wooyoung was showing him. And he smirked in victory, relishing on the way he had convinced his peer, once again living up to his name and very nature.
“Yeah I know.” Mingi said, finally turning his face away from his reflection to address Seonghwa. “I thought with such a pretty face she’d be easy to convince that she’s above everyone else and just make her a pretentious too-far-up-her-own-ass bitch. But I quickly realized she was a lost cause” he concluded, shrugging and stepping away from the mirror, sitting down next to Jongho, already fast asleep only to materialize another handheld mirror. seconds later.
“Yes…” Seonghwa spoke softly as he stared intensely at the girl. “She just might do.”
***
You were on cleaning duty at the church today after the mass. Even if the church was quite big it didn’t intimidate you. You settled the two buckets of warm soapy water and your floor cloth before tying your hair up in a rather unaesthetic but very practical hairdo and stretched your shoulders before giving yourself a determined little nod.
You started with scrubbing the ancient cobblestone of the old church with soap and a lot of elbow grease. Then you immediately followed up with dusting the chairs, the altar and the numerous effigies.
You diligently washed, dusted, scrubbed, cleaned, polished, until everything was neat and right. Simply happy and content with the idea of being useful to the community. The rhythmic sounds of your hard bristle brush against the pavements were setting the pace of the silence which helped you connect to the spiritual nature of the ancient place of worship.
But as you were tidying the confessional booth you noticed a small piece of colorful paper peeking from underneath the bench lined with worn burgundy red velvet. When your hands reached under the seat and hazardly caught the object you knew it was a magazine from the glossy feeling of the paper underneath your fingertips and when you finally let your eyes fall on it you realized the nature of the magazine.
Porn. A pornographic magazine.
The cover displayed several nude women adopting very suggestive poses, one of them even dangerously leaning her face towards the intimate parts of another one.
The obscene imagery made your heart race and you started to feel dizzy. You sat yourself on the bench and rested the lewd magazine in your lap. You took a deep breath and, very slowly, parted the red curtains to make sure you were alone in the church. Then you opened the magazine and flipped the cover page.
“Oh my… Look at that! She is flipping the pages!” Yeosang exclaimed.
“Oh she’s definitely curious about it,” Mingi laughed, his lips stretching into a satisfied half smile. But Seonghwa was more cautious, he refused to believe it just yet. Something about your body language was not right.
“Shhh” he shushed the others and motioned for them to keep looking through the green smoke.
As your fingers glided across each page. You felt hot in the face with each scene more obscene than the last one, tension building in your neck.
Seonghwa didn’t lose sight of you for a second, his lips curling on his teeth in a vicious smile as your trembling fingers went over every single page, your wide open eyes darting to every corner of each page. He could almost hear your heart thumping in your chest he could almost taste the adrenaline in your blood.
When you came to the end of it and closed out the magazine you sighed, letting your shoulders drop, closing your eyes in relief.
“Well…” you started “nobody left their name in it” you said to yourself, completely unaware the demons were spying on your every move. Not that you expected that anybody would leave their signature in such a piece of literature but still you had to at least try to find the rightful owner before taking actions.
A loud complaint erupted from the demons. All in disbelief. You looked at the magazine, true. But it was not for an impure purpose. It was only in the hopes of finding the name of the true owner and hopefully, returning it back to them. You had no interest in the salacious scenes presented in the glossy pages. The rushing blood to your cheeks wasn’t due to any feeling of arousal or libidinousness. It was only the shame of invading someone’s privacy.
Once again your intentions were completely commendable. Immaculate.
As the demons protested and complained, Seonghwa, on the other hand, stayed completely silent as he watched you bring the magazine to a trash bin without an ounce of regret. He wasn’t disappointed, he was excited. He felt excitement. A feeling so distant and faded that it felt foreign. Seonghwa had forgotten all about this thrill. He didn’t remember how tingles tickled the tip of his cold fingers or how his guts swirled around in frenzy. This feeling was joy. Pure joy. Sweet intoxicating euphoria. And it was all thanks to you.
“I’m gonna have so much fun with you” he whispered to you, as if you could hear him, his eyes glued to the reflection in the pierced circle of deep green smoke, he whispered to the image of the unsuspecting girl discarding the impure magazine. A paltry, too poor of a stratagem to have you yield to the darkness. You, the pious and saintly nun.
***
You never really liked cooking, before you joined the covenant your sister was always the one in the kitchen preparing delicious home cooked meals for the family. But what you did like on the other hand was helping. Usually you cleaned up the kitchen but when your sister was running out of time she would ask you to peel the vegetables or cut them. So naturally cutting the vegetables was not your favorite task around the convent. You liked cleaning and tidying up better. Only because you were more on the active side and you liked how cleaning would make you break up a sweat when the whole monastery needed a dust off but nonetheless what you liked most was to help the community. And knowing the soup you were cooking up with the help of two of your sisters was going to feed everyone was a fulfilling feeling. Well enough to make you happy.
So you were contemplating life cutting off the homegrown zucchinis when Sister Chaeyoung started to giggle. You didn’t pay much attention until Sister Nayeon started to snicker along with her.
You lift your eyes up and the both of them instantly stiffened up and started to act suspicious.
“What are you laughing about you two?” you asked, an amused smile playing on your lips.
“Oh nothing” Nayeon said, hiding something behind her back.
“Come on, I want to laugh too” you said, the smile spreading further on your face, lifting up your cheeks adorably.
You three were the youngest in the convent so you did many duties together, you grew quite close with the girls.
Chaeyoung ripped something from Nayeon’s hand and proudly showed it to you.
“Look at this carrot” she said, puffing an adorable laugh.
It was true the carrot had quite the… interesting shape. First of all it was quite large, abnormally thick for a simple carrot. Homegrown vegetables were never like the perfectly shaped ones you could find at the store and it was definitely the case for this one. It had a slight upward curve and the extremity had a very distinctive shape. It was phallic.
You delicately took the vegetable from the hands of Chaeyoung to examine the orange root closely.
It was almost unnatural how close the resemblance was, like it couldn’t be due to fortuity… The thick tip, the robust and curved upright shaft, the asperities reminiscent of the blood engorged veins, even the small slit at the top… The details were impressive.
“Look look” Mingi exclaimed, nudging Seonghwa in the ribs as he observed you through the green fog. “She looks interested. I think she’s done this time”. He declared self-assured, cocking a single eyebrow. But Seonghwa remained completely silent but a smirk pulled on his lips when he noticed how you were eyeing the forbidden vegetable (no pun intended), how your throat seemed to thickly swallow and how your lip slightly trembled.
It felt so empowering, finally getting to chip away at your strong willed spirit, finally getting lust to creep under your skin. For these long seconds of contemplation, Seonghwa could only imagine the wicked places your mind raced to. But right when he was about to open his mouth and declare victory. You laughed.
Seonghwa’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as this laugh ripped through him, like a dagger through the skin.
You laughed so openly, your head hung back, eyes creased. The laugh was like the rest of you, joyful, clear and pure.
You are only amused by such a coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less. Of course it was funny and you were never the stuck up kind and it felt right to have a bit of lighthearted fun with your younger sisters.
“I guess she’s only laughing at your stupid tricks,” Wooyoung said, his sly smirk mocking Seonghwa’s failure.
“Fuck off Wooyoung” Seonghwa spat as he watched the scene unfold.
The three of you just laughed, enjoying this bonding moment together while the stricter, older sisters and the Mother Superior weren’t there to dim down your childish and silly amusement. It was just some playful, innocent humor to you.
Nothing to shake your faith or virtue.
“Now let’s finish up the soup, girls” you said, setting the amusing carrot on the cutting board. Before chopping it up and tossing the pieces in the big pot.
“Maybe we should have kept it” Chaeyoung whispered with pouty lips. “It could have been useful.”
“Don’t be silly,” you replied with a smile.
Seonghwa felt anger bubbling up in his stomach and rushing through his veins to burn down his chest and neck. As much as he hated to admit it… Wooyoung was right, these stupid tricks were no match for the unwavering righteousness of your mind. These would certainly suffice if it was any other soul but not yours. Not you.
So Seonghwa resolved to resort to drastic measures. Something he hasn’t done for centuries. But something necessary. This anger he felt, the deception upon failing once again. He hadn’t felt that in so long, he felt alive finally. It was ironic how an immortal soul would forget how to feel alive for the simple reason that nothing is a threat to their existence. Their presence is immutable, infinite, certain. Therefore unexciting, monotonous and lifeless.
The negative feelings reminded Seonghwa of a purpose he once had, they reminded him of the stakes that used to be. In a way you reminded Seonghwa what it felt like to feel. You reminded him what it meant to be alive. Him, the unholy and vile Sin of Lust.
***
“You cannot be serious,” Hongjoong exclaimed, rubbing the deep crease between his eyebrows, this conversation was starting to give the Guardian of the Gate a headache.
“I am most certainly serious,” Seonghwa assured. “Now is the best time.”
“Why?” Hongjoong asked. “I’m sorry but I can’t let you through unless you give me a solid explanation.”
“Come on Joongie~” Seonghwa said innocently smiling at him leaning on the smaller man in front of him, wrapping his arms around his waist and tilting his head adorably. “You and I go way back, right?”
“Your ways have no power against me, Lust. You know that.” Hongjoong just looked at him scornfully. “Now if you don’t tell me your plan I’ll shut the gates for the next century.”
“What has this place come to? We used to be able to go and play with humans all day and not get questioned,'' Seonghwa complained, throwing his hands in the air and slipping away from Hongjoong. But the latter didn’t budge. “Fine” Seonghwa spat.
“You see my dear friend, today she’s ovulating. Her body is most likely to respond to the primitive instinct of the survival of the species. Meaning that her spirit is most likely to be weaker.” Seonghwa explained his reasoning.
“But how do you plan on actually interacting with her? You know you won’t be able to have physical contact, you'll go through her like a ghost. Unless she summons you. And I don’t see how or even why she would call your name three times” Wooyoung pointed out, as he was watching the feud from afar.
“I know that I’m not stupid” Seonghwa said with an eyeroll and a sigh. “I won’t need to touch her to break her” he assured.
“But how if she can’t even see you?” Hongjoong yelled, ready to pluck the hair out of his head. Seonghwa was about to become the Guardian's breaking point.
“Hey relax, okay” Seonghwa said, slipping behind the man and gently pinching the muscles of his shoulders. “You are starting to look like San.”
“What did you say about me? “ San yelled from across the empty space, interrupting his card game with Yunho.
“Just play” Yunho instructed with a monotonous fed up tone, pointing his chin towards the deck of cards.
“This game is stupid anyways!!” San screamed before flipping the table over in a loud grunt as the cards flew everywhere, floating gracefully to the ground. Yunho sighed deeply.
“He always does this…” he whispered to himself, getting off the chair and walking to Hongjoong and Seonghwa as Jongho was peacefully snoring close by.
“How can he sleep through this?” Yeosang looked at Jongho in disbelief, as he was stuffing more cheesecake into his mouth. Yunho scoffed.
“How can you eat through this?” Yunho underlined and Yeosang just shrugged before smiling with his mouth still full, earning disgusted grunts and complaints from the others.
“Can we focus for one minute here?” Hongjoong interrupted, desperately trying to get back on track. “How are you going to corrupt her if she can’t see you?”
“Oh but she will see me” Seonghwa smirked.
“Not in the monastery she won’t, not on sacred ground” Wooyoung mocked his overly confident tone.
“It’s true, you know” Yunho chipped in, putting his large palm on Seonghwa’s shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m about to say that but… I think you’re being greedy” Yunho concluded, as Seonghwa whipped his head to him.
“Wow… That’s so out of character for you.”
“Well that should speak volumes about the foolishness of your plan” Yunho shrugged, taking his hand back.
“It’s not foolish because she will see me. For the simple reason that she will invite me in” Seonghwa’s smirk grew wider as silence settled in the unholy space between hell and earth. Wooyoung laughed hysterically, holding his ribs as he wiped off a tear in the corner of his eyes.
“And how will you manage that?” Hongjoong asked with a raised, unimpressed eyebrow.
Just then a chiming sound could be heard in the emptiness. Seonghwa fished out of his pocket a small human device. All in the room looked incredulous As Seonghwa smirked at the small screen illuminating his pretty face.
“Since when did you-” Hongjoong started but Seonghwa simply brought his long pointer finger to his lips and shushed him.
“She’s waiting for me”
***
“A disaster” Mother superior exclaimed as she threw her arms at her side, looking at the flooded basement. “We cannot go to the retreat and leave until the problem is fixed. The humidity can damage the foundations of the monastery. “I’ll stay and sort it out.”
The sisters all let out frustrated sighs.
“You should go Mother” you stepped in. “The sisters need you at the retreat as well as the faithful… I’ll stay and get things in order. You can count on me” you said with a determined nod and a smile, tightly holding the wooden cross on your chest.
As much as you wanted to go. Someone needed to stay, that much was undeniable and the wisdom of the Mother Superior was needed at Lourdes. So it wasn’t without a little sting at the heart that you waved goodbye to a bus full of your friends, your sisters.
You went back in and sighed at the mess. The ancient timber beams were slowly soaking up the stagnant water, the old stones of the walls were being eroded and the humidity was not good news for the cheeses you were maturing, not even mentioning the ruined mushrooms you were about to harvest before the disaster. Of course the boiler was old and rustic but Mother Superior always made sure it was checked annually and repaired when it was needed before any damage could be done. But even the most diligent measures sometimes can’t prevent the unforeseeable hazards of life.
You went back up and searched for a plumber in the local newspaper. Luckily there was an ad for one that was living in town.
Park, plumbing/heating engineering at your service, the flashy ad read.
You looked at the time, it was late afternoon, probably a little too late to take up a new job, but you figured there was still hope he could at least pick up the phone and maybe appoint a day to come have a look at the leakage. You didn’t waste anymore time and dialed the phone number in the ancient and only phone located in the Mother Superior’s office.
As the tone rang you suddenly got nervous. Ever since you joined the convent you didn’t interact much with the outside world except the followers coming to church or the people you were helping. So this upcoming conversation was making you agitated.
“Hello, Park, plumbing and heating engineer, how can I help you?” You are surprised by the voice at the end of the line. You never expected such a smooth, melodic voice to pick up the phone.
“H-Hi! I’m Sister y/n from the Monastery of the Sacred Mission, our basement flooded, we think the boiler possibly needs to be replaced. Is it possible for you to come take a look?”
“Oh! Sorry to hear that. I’m guessing much damage has been done…” his concerned tone somewhat eased your nerves.
“Unfortunately yes”
“I see… I can come right now”
“Really?” you blinked your eyes twice in surprise. “Well that would be marvelous” you said cheerfully “but wouldn’t you be working past hours? I fear there’s quite a lot of work” you ask concerned.
“It’s okay. You help others so much. Now it’s my time to help you” his tone changed, a subtle switch you can’t put into words but the difference sent a shiver down your spine.
“Thank you”
***
“Thank you so much for coming this quickly” you thanked the man as he stood in the impressive frame of the heavy convent door.
You took a step aside to let him in but he just stood before the front steps not moving an inch. You threw him a puzzled look but he just stared back blankly at you. There was a moment of hesitation on his behalf that left you quite perplexed.
“Please come in” you hesitantly said while amicably smiling at the man.
“Thank you” he simply responded, almost sounding relieved.
As soon as he stepped foot in the door frame you felt a cold breeze run on your neck under the habit and shivers run down your spine. Autumn was indeed well advanced now but such cold winds were usually never felt before winter. Of course, you made little of a simple gust of wind.
“Hi. I’m Sister y/n. Nice to meet you” you stuck your hand out to him. He looked down at it and fumbled with the tool boxes but opted for a polite nod instead of a handshake.
“Sorry, I’ve been working all day and my hands are dirty” he laughed nervously “and the name is Seonghwa” he flashed the brightest smile you have ever seen. For a second your heart skipped a beat and a foreign feeling blossomed in your chest. You never expected this unknown plumber to be this handsome.
He had long and shiny raven black hair perfectly framing his face and just as healthy thick eyebrows complimenting the dark, round and benevolent eyes, reminiscent of boba pearls. A long elegant neck, a defined jawline, high cheekbones and tanned olive glossy skin.
His body was cladded in an unbuttoned navy blue overall that let peek out a simple white t-shirt underneath. You could tell the outfit had undergone various difficult jobs as the fabric was thinned out at his knees and had various stains of paints and plaster.
He looked like a kind man. Like the kind of person you would give communion to without confession. The kind of person that just has a good heart. It was that kind of reassuring and warm aura that you felt from him, something that put you at ease right away.
You led him to the faulty boiler.
Right away he got on one knee and started to inspect the recalcitrant piece of machinery.
“Well I’ll leave you to work on your own” you said as you retreated to take your leave. Seonghwa only politely nodded and smiled in your direction before turning his attention back to the problem.
While the plumber was working you put your time to good use and organized the paperwork of the Mother superior. Doing such work was always tedious for her because she wasn’t exactly the organized kind of woman but you were. You knew doing that you would be of great help. Since the task was quite large, it took quite a long time and it’s only when your stomach emitted a loud grumble that you realized the evening was well advanced.
You figured Mr. Park was hungry or at the very least thirsty after working for so long. So you grabbed a metal tray and brought him a set of the specialty sugar cookies the convent was selling along with a generous serving of cold water embellished with a dash of freshly squeezed lemon juice to make sure Mr. Park’s thirst would be thoroughly quenched.
When you passed the archway that was leading to the boiler room your heart nearly stopped beating when your eyes met the working man.
Swiftly you spinned on your feet and hid behind the wall, only peeking an eye out the corner to still be able to witness the novel scene taking place in front of you.
Seonghwa had tightened the sleeves of his blue overalls around his waist and was wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, clearly the labor was not restful. You couldn’t tell if it was from sweat or from the leaking water but his white t-shirt was wet and sticking to his skin, making the fabric lightly translucid. You could guess the dark pinkish color of his nipples and the outline of his well built body underneath. The short sleeves of his t-shirt were rolled up and were tightly hugging his arms while his long fingers were wrapped around a wrench as each twist of his wrist was making the veins of his forearm bulge out.
You loudly gulped down a lump in your throat. Your hands tightly held onto the tray in fear of letting it fall to your feet.
But your misery was far from over because before you could realize it Seonghwa was pulling on his shirt and passing it over his head. Every muscle of his back moving around, contracting and relaxing in a beautiful dance, shining under the golden hour sun seeping through the small single window of the basement. Water and sweat was running down his back and at his flanks, when he turned around, your eyes dashed around his naked upper body. You couldn’t decide where to settle them. His collarbones, his pecs, his abs, the dent at the sides of his abdomen, his (very) low resting overalls…
Your heart was about to give out. You had seen male bodies before, never in real life that was true but you did once or twice on TV or on billboard ads of men’s underwear.
But, never, you felt something like that. That feeling. This tingly feeling budding in the low pit of your stomach, making your guts stir around, making your palms sweaty, making your heart helplessly hammer against your ribs, making your eyes widen as you couldn’t peel them off the naked wet skin of the handsome stranger. This feeling of immoral interest for another person’s body, this longing for somebody else’s touch.
This feeling of Lust.
It was completely foreign to you.
If it wasn’t for Seonghwa you would have chugged the whole carafe of lemony water by yourself because you never felt your throat as dry as it felt right now.
“Look! Look!” San shouted, wrapping a strong hand around Wooyoung’s forearm and making him wince in pain as they both stared at you through the green smoke. “Y/n is giving in!”
“Look at the way she’s staring at him!” Yeosang said, briefly reaching for a napkin to wipe his mouth.
“Wow” Yunho added “She definitely isn’t thinking about church-appropriate things”. Yunho laughed but Mingi scoffed.
“If she likes him, wait till I show my human form. I’m infinitely more good looking than him”
“Not everything’s about you, Mingi” Yunho scolded him.
With trembling hands you settled the metal tray onto the window sill. You poured a glass of water and presented it to Seonghwa.
“Here” you unexpectedly manage to keep your voice calm and steady. “I figured you might be thirsty or hungry.”
“Oh thanks” he said, wrapping his hand around the glass, carefully avoiding touching your hand in the process, probably trying not to get sweat and dirt smeared on you. “I just got done actually”
“Oh wonderful” you exclaimed, maybe a little louder than expected. Maybe eager to get rid of that immoral feeling that was awakened by his presence. Seonghwa cocked an eyebrow and gave you a puzzled look at the unexpected outburst of joy.
“Why? Are you impatient to throw me out?” he smirked, pushing his long and soaked hair back as he took a step closer, doe eyes narrowing, becoming sharp. You did your best to lock your eyes with his, not to let them wander down his still half naked body. Seonghwa didn’t make any effort to cover himself. Your heart seemed to be trying to break through your rib cage to get a chance to beat closer to Seonghwa’s chest.
“No, it’s just that…” you took a step back “you have been working for so long you must be wanting to go back to the comfort of your home” you quickly get back on your feet before smiling politely at him, trying to conceal your uneasiness.
“Why?” he asked tit for tat, taking a step closer again, siren eyes bored deep into yours, trying to lull you in. “No one is waiting for me at home.”
Seonghwa heard the faintest little gasp escape your lips and he knew you were shaken. You, the unwavering nun, the faithful saint. You were at last considering him. Contemplating giving in to the primal and lowly instinct of desire.
Seonghwa sensed it. He saw it in the way you hurriedly licked your dry bottom lip, he saw it in the way your eyes darted between his lips and his eyes, he saw it in the way you stopped backing away from him.
You, y/n, you were giving in to pure sensual need. No love, no sentiment involved. Only desire to feel a complete stranger’s body against yours, only pure, untainted lust.
If only he could touch you. If only he could, it would be so much easier to help you gently fall into the welcoming and serene arms of corruption. But he couldn’t and that was making the whole experiment that much more exciting. He had to use deceit and trickery. Like a siren numbing your mind with a beautiful song.
But if you gave the slightest hint of submitting, if you let your guard down and let him into your heart then he would have won and that was all that mattered. If you tilted your head and you puckered up your lips to kiss him, if you took a step towards him to press your body against his, if your lifted your hand to feel his wet, glistening skin under your fingers, if you did anything to welcome the unholy desire, if you opened yourself to lust, then touching you would have been unnecessary because Seonghwa would have won and you and God would have lost.
And victory was oh so close. So close when he was as near to you as he could. So close when he slowly approached his face to yours. So close when your heart was pumping scorching hot blood through your veins, so close when your mouth started to water, so close when your lips started to quiver, so close when your eyelid started to flutter but…
Again, you stepped back.
“WHAT?!” San shouted.
“No way!!” Yeosang added, staring at your unsuspecting reflection in the green smoke.
Seonghwa’s shoulder dropped along with the satisfied little smirk.
“Thank you for fixing the boiler this quickly, Mr Park” you said, averting your eyes, finally breaking the spell he had casted on you and peeling your eyes off him.
Seonghwa had cried victory too soon. He had counted the chicken eggs before they hatched, he had put the cart before the horse. In other words… he had underestimated you.
He underestimated your will, your faith and your unwavering sense of righteousness. The other Sins had warned him though but he didn’t listen. They told him it was impossible to bend you. All of them had tried before and none succeeded so it was undeniable now that Seonghwa was just going to join them in failure.
“Don’t worry about it” he smiled at you, disappointment peeking behind his shiny brown orbs.
Seonghwa had accepted defeat when you led him back to the door of the convent. He walked away but turned around half way only to see your still body standing straight in the doorframe, perfectly incarnating your strong, unbending mind.
You only politely smiled when you pushed the big heavy door with difficulty, finally closing it in with a loud thud.
“Fuck… I guess Seonghwa failed too…” Yunho stated as he watched you close the door. But Wooyoung looked at you with a knowing grin.
“I’m not so sure…” he said as the smirk tugged further at his lips.
***
When you finally escaped Seonghwa’s taunting eyes, you leaned your back on the sturdy door, your spirit drained, your mind exhausted. You closed your eyes to catch a breath but the only thing you could see was the working man’s godlike figure carved onto your retinas, the translucent white t-shirt clinging to his golden skin, the sweat dripping down his temples and wetting the beautiful long strands of black hair, the bulging veins of his forearms and the dents engraved at both side of his lower stomach. And the more you thought about it, the quicker your breathing got.
You were all alone here… Your sisters and Mother superior were all gone. What wrong could it cause if you gave in just this once? Not that much, right?…. Just this once.
With big strides you walked to the kitchen and handpicked a nicely shaped carrot, almost regretting not listening to Chaeyoung and keeping that other one.
But this one was going to do the trick. It was not too thick and just long enough to help you carry out your shameful business but not too big to actually taint you and strip you of the precious veil of chastity that you managed to keep intact all of these years.
You climbed up the stairs with haste, avoiding the marble eyes of the holy figures represented in the halls only to take refuge in your bedroom.
You slipped out of your shoes and laid on your bed. You didn’t even bother taking the habit off, it wasn’t going to take long anyway, you simply pulled it up.
When you slid off the white panties you realized how soaked you were. You couldn’t believe it. Your whole life you’ve never felt this way, the feeling was overwhelming and needed to be dealt with immediately. Yes, that was what you were doing simply ridding yourself of an impure feeling!
You whipped out the orange root and clumsily rubbed the thinner tip on yourself. The cold sensation took you aback and pulled a small gasp from your lips.
You coated the root with your juices and then you aimed it at your entrance. You slid the carrot inside, it was too thin to hurt in any way but it was well long enough. When you reached the bottom of yourself you couldn’t help but to let out a satisfied grunt at the sensation of the vegetable rubbing against your sensitive spot.
You pulled it back out and slid it back in, this time a little faster. Heat gained over your body as your eyes fluttered close and you recalled the unfairly handsome and devilishly sexy working man.
The muscles of his back, his long slender neck, his collarbones, his beautiful sun kissed skin.
“Aaah” you sigh. “Seonghwa” his name rolled off your tongue so naturally, almost like it was meant to be said like this.
His long and dark wet hair, his plush lips getting close to yours, his warm breath fanning your face.
“Seonghwa” you moaned again, more high pitched this time as your wrist was getting more and more reckless, each time deliciously scrubbing your walls in divine and forbidden pleasure.
The way he looked at you, the way his dark eyes were filled with the same desire you had for him. The way they spoke volumes about the sinful things he wanted to do to you. And God… did you almost let him have his way with you.
You started to clench around the root, each time you pulled it out your walls were eagerly gripping on it, refusing to let it go, so you smashed it back in with force to grant their wish. Your walls quivered around the vegetable, a foreign and unknown euphoria was taking over you and you knew you were done for.
“I’m… ngh… c-cumming” you whispered to yourself as you felt the tightness in your core reach a brand new level. “Seonghwa” you cried out one more time, being only a few back-and-forths away from your sweet release but alas you couldn’t pull it through.
Because without knowing, without realizing, completely unsuspecting, you called his name. You called his name three times. You summoned him.
Purple smoke started to erupt from the corner of the small dimly lit room by the late evening sun. With terror you ripped the vegetable out before you could finish and covered your modesty with the habit you were still wearing.
From the smoke appeared slick black leather chelsea boots resting under a pair of anthracite gray dress pants coated with a shiny silverish finish. As the smoke got thinner you could distinguish a matching cropped blazer with an asymmetrical and deconstructed silver vest underneath that was held together by one single button right under his neck, you could see the soft and glistening golden skin underneath. And finally when the smoke was completely gone you saw his face. The sharp features and the slender slithering body reminiscent of the one of a serpent, eyes just as sharp and presence just as menacing. A face you hadn't known for long but couldn't forget. Seonghwa’s face.
But he looked different. His long bangs weren’t framing his face anymore, instead he had tied the long wavy strands in a high half bun. His aura was also different from when he was wearing the blue and spotted overalls. Now cladded in the revealing ensemble he looked expensive, confident and sensual.
Your jaw practically dropped to the floor when your mind finally wrapped around the information your eyes were transmitting.
“Well well…” Seonghwa stepped closer while you jolted yourself up the bed, your body cornered between the headboard and the wall.
“What are you?” you whispered with trembling lips, heart pounding, adrenaline rushing through your veins, ready to flee if need be.
Seonghwa looked at you, puzzled for a second. Then he laughed, head tilting back. The laugh made the hair in your nape stand. It was unnatural, cold and fundamentally evil.
“Me?” he asked. Right then you felt your body being magically lifted from the soft mattress. You shrieked again, utterly confused while Seonghwa’s magic slammed you against the bare walls of the humble bedroom, the tip of your toes barely scraping the worn out wooden floor.
“Oh my, please pardon my awful manners,” he said in an overly polite tone. “I’m Seonghwa, Cardinal Sin of Lust” he said, bowing respectfully, elegantly bringing his right hand on his chest in a princely manner. “But for you, love…” Seonghwa stepped towards you, taking his time to look at you. He leaned on your ear to whisper.
“I’m a dream come true” his voice was deep, sultry, self-assured. Everything you’d imagine it to be.
A faint gasp escaped your lips as you felt his warm breath on your neck.
You wanted to scream to all heavens, you had brought a demon into the convent. You had desecrated the sacred ground of this place of worship, your home. You led the wolf to the sheeps. But you couldn’t scream, you couldn’t even if your life depended on it.
“W-what do you want?” you managed to push the few words past your teeth. Your voice, perfect opposite of the one of the demon: muted and trembling.
“Just want to finish my business with you” his face stayed right where it was, nestled in the crook of your neck. Lips so close you could feel the heat radiating from them but somehow they were still too far, unable to touch you.
“What business?” you whimpered.
“Darling.” Seonghwa clicked his tongue and shook his head in disapproval. “There’s no point in fighting anymore. Stop playing dumb with me. I know you’re a smart girl.” He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo. “I already won, darling… that very second you decided to give in to the thought of me. That second you closed the big heavy door and thought you escaped my eyes. That very second I had won.” A wicked smirk pulled on his lips. But his words didn’t make any sense to you.
This languish was torture, this state of expectation, of suspense. This proximity. You wished it would just stop. Be it touching you for good or get away finally. Just as if he read your mind he got even closer. Now it wasn’t only his lips taunting the thin skin of your neck, it was his whole body, hovering over yours; but still… Not touching you.
“Sure winning felt good. But you know what feels even better, darling?” You couldn’t bring yourself to formulate words and only whimpered in response.
“I asked you a question, sweetheart” he grinned, relishing on your anguish, placing both of his palms at both sides of your face, trapping your frail figure between his arms and the wall.
“It’s to finally touch you.”
So he finally let himself take a deep dive into you. The plush warm lips crash onto your neck, giving wet sloppy open mouth kisses while you couldn’t help but to tilt your head back giving him more access.
“What a good girl you are” he purred, not taking the time to part his lips from you.
His left hand went to your chin and turned it to make you face him, without much hesitation he planted a wet kiss on your lips, your cute whimpers and gasps were the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss.
The kiss got heated as Seonghwa pried your hesitant mouth open with his long thumb and pushed his tongue inside to breach your lips. His delicious taste spread through your mouth, making your head dizzy. He tasted like candy, like you just took a bite of the juiciest strawberry. Ripe, just in season, absolutely delicious.
You moaned into his mouth and he smirked as his grip around your chin got tighter, he lifted his knee to part your legs and his thigh rubbed against your center through the habit. You couldn’t help but to moan louder, the unsolicited pleasurable friction made you incapable of reciprocating the kiss, your dangling feet nervously giving small kicks in the air.
Seonghwa finally parted from you, allowing you to catch your breath. But he was far from done with you.
“I know you long for more than this, angel” he whistled while his hand went up your thigh, still clothed with the thick black fabric of the habit. “I know you languish for pleasure” his blunt nails went up your arm and you realized you were still holding onto the carrot. He ripped the root from your hand.
“You won’t need this anymore” he said before smashing the poor vegetable on the ground sending millions of orange pieces flying across the room, you flinched once more at the demonstration of strength.
“Mine is much bigger than this. But don’t worry, love, I’ll make you nice and ready for me” he purred before placing both of his strong hands on the habit and just like that with astonishing ease he rips through the black gown. But not only, everything covering you is ripped in two and that also goes for your bra that fell to the ground. With the deafening sound of the fabric ripping you found yourself completely naked in front of the demon apart from the veil on your hair and the rosary beads laying on your chest.
You flinched and your hands flew to cover your nude frame but Seonghwa once again laughed and you felt an irresistible magical force pin your wrists at each side of your face. You sniveled and squirmed trying your hardest to go against the invisible force to hide away from the avid eyes of the demon.
“How cute.” The demon snickered when you failed to fight back. “Sweetheart, you don’t get to hide anything when you look this good” he said in a breath, eyes darting over your naked figure. From your dangling feet, to your thighs tightly pressed together, to your flushed face and to the Rosary beads sitting between your gorgeous breasts, swaying every time you kept trying to break away from the spell pinning you against the wall.
He brought a cold hand to the side of your breast, you couldn’t help but to moan as you felt his soft hand against you, his finger suddenly pinching your sensitive and hardened nipples. You let out a high pitched whimper.
“So sensitive” Seonghwa mocked you before he flicked the sensitive bud. Then he lifted his hand to harshly slap against the innocent lump of flesh, you jumped in surprise at the sensation. The surprise didn’t lie in the sudden surge of pain but rather from the enjoyment you got out of it, the sting sending electricity down your spine to light up your core.
With another faint movement of the head Seonghwa made you open your legs widely. You whimpered and felt tears build up in the corners of your eyes when he finally laid eyes on your most private part. And you realized with dread how wet you were. Soaked. Juices streaming down to your inner thighs making them glisten under his persistent gaze.
“Fuck, sweetheart” he exhaled out one heavy breath. “You got this fucking wet for me?” he said as he crouched down, inching his face dangerously close to your exposed center.
Embarrassment and shame reached an unbearable level, tears finally spilled out of your eyes, wetting your cheeks as you squirmed, trying your best to escape Seonghwa’s spell.
“So here’s the little hole I’m going to split in two” he said as his breath brushed over your wet folds.
You squirmed even harder, somehow feeling Seonghwa’s spell loosen around your wrists and ankles. But when he aimed his pointer finger right on your swollen bundle of nerves, earning a loud scream from you, the sudden pleasure from the perfect amount of pressure he applied on you made you completely immobile. Torn between the need for more of the foreign forbidden joy but also the fear and shame of letting the demon have his way with you, tainting you, taking away your most precious possession: your purity.
“What? Are you not fighting me off anymore?” He started to draw small circles on your bud. Your wetness made it easy for his finger to glide across the small and stiff nub. You moaned a little louder and he started going faster.
“Does it feel good, angel?” his voice went down an octave as pleasure got to your head, making the room spin, luckily you don’t have to stand on your legs.
Seonghwa went even faster when you didn’t reply.
“I said, does it feel good?” his tone was as harsh as his restless teasing of your clit. Hellish circles sending blazing heat to your whole body as you felt the pleasure rising in the deepest part of your core, your walls quivering on themselves.
But Seonghwa slowed down at the worst moment, a wicked smirk pulling on his plump lips, narrowing his piercing siren eyes.
“Good little sluts should answer when asked a question.” His pace was now just fast enough to keep you at your limit, each spasm of your core, testifying of the agonizing muted pleasure he was inflicting on you.
“Answer!” he ordered while he delightfully pressed on your painfully sensitive bundle of nerves.
“YES!! Yes it feels good” you blurted out, panting, sweat pearling between your breasts, giving in to the pressure.
“Good girl” he praised as he finally lifted his hand from your sensitive parts. You sighed in both relief of finally being let off the hook but also in frustration at the displeasing feeling of his denial.
But before you could celebrate or pester he pushed that very same finger inside you. You didn’t know by what ungodly miracle he managed to aim straight at your sensitive spot, but he did, applying divine pressure deep inside you. Your eyes instantly rolled to the back of your head as you felt the will of fighting off slipping through your fingers.
Seonghwa chuckled at your reaction, he was enjoying himself very much. After centuries of boredom he intended to savor every second of your agony.
“Darling, you really are hungry for my fingers, aren’t you? Your slutty little cunt is gripping so tightly” he chuckled again while he pulled his finger back. You hated how right he was. You hated how you felt your walls clench around him, how you felt your own body crave for more of him as soon as his finger slipped out.
But the yearning didn’t last long because he pushed past your entrance again, this time fitting two fingers inside you, taking the time to gently stretch you until his blunt nails reached as deeply as they could.
You let out a moan through gritted teeth, the pleasure making beads of sweat pearl at the sides of your face.
“Fuck! Your virgin little pussy just loves to be stretched out like this, doesn’t it?” He leaned even closer to your sopping center.
Tears continued to run down your cheeks as pleasure rose again. Seonghwa picked up the pace, stretching your walls so deliciously, pumping his two fingers in and out of you, each time he pulled out he ripped a moan out of you. Again, you started to twitch around his fingers and he smirked down on you. Pleasure continuously grew as you made this silent prayer that he would finally take you over the edge, over the barrier of this beautiful and forbidden land that you stayed away from all these years.
But again he slowed down and came to a stop. This time tears of pure frustration ran down your cheeks as you pathetically bucked your hips up trying to fight against Seonghwa’s spell pinning you down the wall.
“Aww.” He cooed in a mocking tone. “Darling, I’m sorry… were you about to cum?” He said while you shot him a death glare. He chuckled at your reddened cheeks and your frowned brows.
His finger swiped across your fold, pressing on the lonely bud once and you instantly dropped the angered look, your eyes drooped at the sensation and you couldn’t help but to grind against him, your womanliness made so eager by his touches.
“Fuck, look at you” he slipped one finger back inside, pumping it very slowly in and out. You bit down on your lip. “Acting so fucking distant only a few minutes ago…” he added a second one as you moaned out in bliss. “When in fact you were craving this… craving me…” he fitted a third one inside your already crowded heat as your moans now mixed with confused sobs. The intense feeling of pain and pleasure blending into a dangerous cocktail.
“Fuckkk” you cursed out, allowing yourself another sin you managed to avoid up until now, which has the demon showing more teeth.
“What a good little slut taking all of my fingers so good” he said as he took his time thoroughly stretching you out, his blunt nails pushing against your sensitive spot, while his face was closing in the distance with your intimate parts. Your eyes fluttered close as the muscles in your neck gave out and you let your head hang back on the wall.
“Look at me” Seonghwa grunted and your eyes snapped back open instantly meeting his dark ones, his irises seemed to go black with perversion.
“Now I’m gonna make you cum” He announced as he picked up the pace once more, you can tell he didn’t intend to stop before it was over. “I want you to never forget this. This feeling you’re about to experience.” His wrist took on a punishing pace as your eyes were locked with his. Pleasure sending radiating heat through your body, chest heaving up and down as you moan out loudly with your jaw hanging open. “Every time you’ll think of me I curse you to feel exactly… like… this”
Seonghwa finally wrapped his mouth around your lonely and eager little clit, flicking his tongue on it as his fingers relentlessly punched your g spot, both sources of pleasure go to your head and your first orgasm finally drops over you like a wave, taking you away with its raging current.
Your cum squirts out of your body, water like fluid rushing out of you and filling Seonghwa’s mouth, drenching his neck and exposed chest in the asymmetrical silver vest. He moaned, lips against yours and sending delicious vibrations into you.
You screamed out as the level of pleasure ripped through you, your walls clenching around Seonghwa and twitching uncontrollably as your whole body shook, still magically pinned down to the wall.
When you finally settled down he slowed down and took his fingers out of you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and licking his fingers clean.
“Hmmm” he hummed contentedly and smacked his lips, seemingly enjoying your taste. “It’s true… Good little sluts, like you, taste much better”.
Seonghwa cut the spell and stood back up, your exhausted body dropping to the floor, your weakened legs unable to support your weight.
Seonghwa had enough of this teasing and had grown impatient. He brushed back the cum-soaked locks of charcoal black hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks, the wet skin of his chest glistening under the silver asymmetrical vest. Your eyes trailed down below the belt you gasped as you saw the outline of what was hidden from your eyes all this time… Even still restricted by the fabric of the shiny gray dress pants, the thickness and the length had your heart racing again.
“I want to feel you around me. Now.” he ordered, in a sultry tone that lifted goosebumps all over your naked skin.
Suddenly your body was magically lifted up again but this time Seonghwa threw you on the bed. The veil was barely hanging onto your hair anymore.
Seonghwa walked to you as he took off the cropped blazer along with the rest of his clothes. You gulped down at the sight of his nude and perfectly sculpted body standing beside you. The glistening chest made wet with sweat and cum, dripping down his abs even down to his groin where you barely even dared to look.
There it was. The Absolute Sin.
Seonghwa’s long, thick, twitching, veiny, hard cock.
You could have screamed at the monstrous thing if you weren’t still in a daze from your first crushing orgasm . It was so thick, so long you couldn’t even begin to imagine how this was about to fit inside you.
Seonghwa chuckled when he caught the panic swimming in your wide eyes. He thrived on this fear. And he knew exactly how it was going to go. And he couldn’t wait. He couldn’t wait to see the very same doe eyes grow heavy with pleasure and look back at him with need when you will inevitably beg him to keep going, to never stop fucking you. Because he broke you once and he intended to do it over and over and over again until you will no longer remember anything but him.
Seonghwa dipped both his knees at your sides, his body weight making yours sink in the soft mattress while he shimmied his way up between your wide open legs.
He rubbed the thick blazing hot tip on your still very sensitive bud while he stared down at the place your two bodies met. You tried not to moan by biting down on your bottom lip.
“Please” you meekly whimpered, his dark eyes shot back to yours.
“Please what?” he slithered between his teeth, smirking.
“Please don’t… do that…” you puffed, as fear crushed your chest. Seonghwa snickered again and brought his hand to very gently and softly brush his thumb over your wet cheeks and lips.
“Darling” his deep voice purred so softly. “You are not under any spell here. You can control this tiny little body of yours. So go ahead” he taunted you as his hand went down from your face to your sensitive nipples. “Go ahead and close your legs.”
What? No… It isn’t possible.
There was no way he was not the one forcing your thighs apart like this. But when you gave it a try, when you attempted to lift your ankle it actually worked. You indeed could move. But… somehow you…. still didn’t.
“Come on show me. Go ahead, pretty” his hand went down again to your stomach. “Close your legs on this poor, aching, desperate….” he flicked his pointer finger on your clit “virgin little pussy”. The sweet sting made you moan out and arch your back instinctively.
Seonghwa waited a few seconds staring down at you with amusement as you didn't move an inch. Your body kept your legs nice and wide for him against your own will.
“You know what?” he took his hand back and you swallowed back a whine and the loss of contact. “Okay, I won’t… if you are still this strong headed after all of this maybe you’re right. You are a pure spirit and I can admit defeat when I have lost.”
The smug look he wore completely gave him away. You knew it was a ruse, a ploy to get to you, to toy with you but you weren’t listening to reason anymore, only your delirious body tortured with vicious need and you just couldn’t risk it. You couldn’t risk him leaving you, not like this.
“NO!” you wailed, extending your hand to him as he was already getting off the bed and on to his feet. “I-…I-… Ok… do it”
Seonghwa’s expression here took a turn. The smug smile was completely wiped off his face, only dark brown and grave eyes looking down on your naked frame.
“Yeah?” he came back to bed and laid over you. He brought his lips close to your ear and he seductively whispered against your neck as your eyes fluttered close. “If you want it, sweetheart. You’ll have to properly beg for it”.
Your eyes snapped open. But Seonghwa only looked dead serious.
“I- I-” you started but Seonghwa lifted his hand to let it slap against your wet cunt. The whacking sound bounced off the bare walls and the stinging pain had you grunting in unsolicited pleasure.
“I said properly. I want to believe you” his voice had nothing of the playful undertone it had a few moments ago. You didn’t think twice, maybe not even at all.
“Please, Seonghwa. I implore you to fuck me. Please fuck and use my slutty virgin cunt as much as you’d like. Please hurt me and rip my virginity away. I want to scream and cry out your name. I want to be yours. I want to forget everything about the good girl I used to be, I want to be your whore. Forget about my soul, just take it with you back to hell.”
Silence fell as a grin played on his lips. It’s not smug or playful, it’s wicked, downright evil.
You were not just begging him. The desperate prose was not just a plea. It was a prayer. You were praying for him to taint you. Begging him to take away your purity like it was nothing but a nuisance to you, discarding it. Seeing you abandon your values and principles was the greatest achievement, a victory so sweet it made Seonghwa lose control. The feeling was intoxicating, blissfully filling his veins and making his evil heart thump. In his infinite existence he had never felt that. And it was all thanks to you.
Suddenly his body was elevated in the air and purple smoke enveloped him again. For a second you were scared that he was actually leaving you but the thought vanished as quick as it appeared when you heard the distinctive shrill sound of the metal scraping against the wall. You looked above your head and you witnessed with dread the crucifix above your bed being slowly turned upside down, engraving the white plaster of the bare walls. The foreboding omen lifted goosebumps off your skin and sent a cold shiver down your spine.
Soon you saw his body peek out as the smoke evaporated. It was still him but he had changed.
Huge wings were open behind his back, covered in raven black lustrous feathers, shining under the moonlight peeking from the window as the dark night was now settled. Two black horns have pierced his skin at each side of his head, pointing upwards, resembling the ones of a spanish bull. His body, somehow, looked even more defined, the muscles of his abs and shoulders seemed to bulge out. He looked strong, ominous, dangerous.
“You have such a way with words” he said as he floated back between your legs and settled his huge cock on your stomach. “Now I’m gonna make all of your wishes come true”. He brushed the tip of his cock, wet with precum, once again on your slick folds. “I've never fucked a mortal in my true form before.” he started, still rubbing against you, the muted pleasure making your brain fuzzy. “I can’t guarantee you’ll come out of this alive”.
But you were already set on it and if you had to die, so be it…
“I don’t care” you whispered as your eyebrows met and you looked back at him with need.
You braced yourself when you felt him finally push himself inside you. You could practically hear your hymen rip in two to make way for his huge cock. The puny little carrot could have never compared to the size of him.
“What a good little slut you are,” he cooed, before grunting as you were gripping around him. “Willing to die for a round of fun on my big cock”.
Sharp throbbing pain ripped through your lower stomach as you frowned and grunted.
“I know…” Seonghwa purred as he leaned over in your ear “I’m big” he said as he finally reached the bottom of you, linking his hips with yours. And he pulled out a lot faster than when he came in. Your eyes rolled back and you crushed the pillow over your mouth to yell in it.
But when he went back in again somehow the ache had lessened and pleasure was slowly taking its place. Soon the pain, as sharp as it was, vanished to become only a vague memory you couldn’t even recall as your mind was too preoccupied by the incommensurable pleasure Seonghwa made you feel.
“Fucking whore” Seonghwa grunted as he mercilessly ramed up your pussy, making it the shape of his cock. “Cheating on God feels good, doesn’t it? Your whorish little cunt can’t resist this fat demon cock, can it?” he growled.
You started twitching once again around him and Seonghwa instantly recognized the familiar clench he felt earlier around his fingers.
“Are you going to cum?” he asked, panting above you.
You couldn’t even process the words you were hearing as your eyes rolled back and your jaw fell open. But you were brought back to your senses when Seonghwa’s big clawed hand slapped your cheek forcefully. The burning pain took you aback and stopped your never ending ascension to pleasure. You whined a complaint and Seonghwa grabbed your face into a strong grip making your lips pout.
“Good little whores have to ask first” he said, still deeply pounding your precious little pussy.
“Pleasepleaseplease… C-can I cum?... F-fuckk… Please” you mumbled as his pace made it hard to hold yourself back.
“No!” he responded sternly. “Not now” he said, smirking evilly. Enjoying this anguish in your eyes as you tried your best to control your body. He brought his hand and pinched hard on your swollen little clit.
“Aaaah” you screamed, arching your back and pressing your head back into the soft mattress.
“You’ll cum when I’ll tell you too” he snickered, looking down at you. And the pleasure kept on building, frustrated tears starting to wet your cheeks again.
“My God please…” you whined, as tears streamed down your face and your pussy clenched around his thick cock. Seonghwa scoffed.
“Sorry but he has left you, darling.” He started to draw circles on your sensitive and aching clit, still maintaining the punishing pace of his cock rearranging your guts, making the rosary beads jump along with your breasts with each powerful thrust. You cry out as it’s becoming nearly impossible to keep yourself from cumming. “He abandoned you to me” he growled, his low voice sending electricity down your core.
“Pleaseeeee” you pleaded once more, desperation oozing out of your broken up voice and finally Seonghwa pronounced the magic words.
“Cum. Cum for me like the godless little whore that you are”
Finally you let go. You let Seonghwa’s skillful hand and monstrous, merciless cock take you down to the hellish pit of lustful sin. Pleasure took over you and clouded your vision, everything came to a blur as you could only concentrate on the throbbing of your cunt around Seonghwa’s thick dick. You moaned out his name in pure agonizing bliss. The orgasm was even longer lasting, even stronger than the one he gave you moments ago. And you knew for a fact now that there was no going back.
The good girl that you were had died, Seonghwa killed her. And you had let him do it without batting an eyelash. But fuck did it feel good. You felt no shame, no regrets, only unholy desire for the demon’s heavenly cock.
Soon the high wore off but Seonghwa didn’t seem to care and kept on pounding you, taking a bruising grip on your parted thighs with both his hands.
“Please” you whimpered again as your poor little pussy might split in two from clenching and throbbing this much right after an earth shattering orgasm. Seonghwa chuckled in between heavy breaths.
“I just came” you cried out, turning into an over-stimulated mess.
“I don’t care” he spat, using you like a fucktoy just like he pleased, after all you had asked him to do so… ‘to fuck and use your slutty virgin cunt as much as he’d like’. The exhausted quivering of your restless pussy started to build up again and before you could even realize it, Seonghwa’s thick cock had you flirting with the edge of the bottomless pleasure pit again.
“Please” you whined “Please stop” you begged him, breast lewdly jumping up and down with each of his brutal thrusts. But he kept on going, growling as his eyebrows met, handsome face contorted in pleasure, biting his lip. Body pressed over yours and full black feathered wings completely concealing you, one of his horns even scraping the wall with one too violent move.
“Pleaseeeee” you whimpered yet again. And suddenly your body was being lifted and flipped over by Seonghwa’s spell. You land on all fours, completely confused but worst of all, completely empty.
“Don’t you get it?” Seonghwa said as he slowly pushed himself back into your soft, warm little throbbing cunt. You moaned as you gladly took him back. “You sold your soul to me. You don’t get to ask for anything anymore. So I’ll fuck you for as long as I see it fit” He said before pushing down on your face, shoving your head into a shamefully submissive position, your ass up in the air, ready to be destroyed by him once more.
His fat cock parted you so deliciously as lewd wet sounds rang to your ears. It was like your once virgin pussy had completely taken the shape of his monstrous dick. Every movement he made ripped a delighted moan out of your lips, you didn’t have the will to fight anymore. You only wanted him and this delectable high he made you feel.
“Fuckkk” you cried out as he started to go faster again, the quiver in your lower stomach making a quick return.
“You’re my thing now.” He ripped the veil of your hair, the last relic of your past self and sent it flying across the room. He grabbed a fistfull of your hair, harshly pulling on it maintaining your face forward but your chin still firmly planted in the mattress, asserting his dominance on your frail figure. “My toy, you hear?” the sting on your scalp added to the full feeling of his cock had you completely fucked out. Your eyes rolled as heat spreaded through you again, your jaw fell open and your tongue slipped out. You were fucked out dumb, completely. Brain nice and thoughtless just from him.
“Yeshhh” you mumbled.
“I’m gonna make you cum again and this time I will fill your dirty little cunt with my cum” The obscene sounds of his balls slapping against your slick folds and clit bounced off the walls.
“Yesshh pwweathe” you replied as your tongue slapped against your chin with each inhuman thrust of his hips deep into you, sending strings of drool on your chin and staining the sheets.
“Today you’re ovulating, you know what it means?”
Your eyes snapped back open.
“I’m gonna force a child into you. You’ll take my seed into your fertile womb and life will sprout inside you” His grip on your hair tightened and you felt him start to twitch inside you.
“You’d like that?” he teases, knowing the answer.
“Yesssshhhhh!!!” you yelled, you were ready for anything if it meant he’d let you cum again.
“Then take it. Take my cum you depraved slut” His second hand left your hips to grab the rosary still around your neck, twisting his wrist to wrap the beads around his fingers and pulling on it while still maintaining his grasp on your hair.
Bloodstream to your brain became restrained and you started to feel dizzy. A deliciously light headed sensation filled your head up as your pussy quivered with a third orgasm. Your hungry cunt squeezed Seonghwa’s thick length as if its life depended on it, demanding every last drop of cum the demon had to offer. You clenched and throbbed around him in pure joyful sin as he took you to the deepest part of this abysmal and cursed pleasure, taking your sanity and everything that was left of the old you to the pits of hell with him.
Seonghwa’s rhythm faltered and he shuddered and grunted in bliss as his throbbing cock gushed out streams after streams of piping hot cum that stained your walls with white, shooting straight up to your womb, assuredly knocking you up in the process.
You yelled and moaned one last time. You were so full of him, belly round and swollen with the ungodly amount of cum Seonghwa gracefully gifted you. You were so unbelievably full that you couldn't help but to let it flow out of you and run down your thighs, no matter how much you clenched to keep it all inside.
You were in heaven. This was pure euphoria. A kind of contentment not any amount of spirituality and virtue could ever give you. The kind of happiness you could only experience when you let go of everything you’ve ever known to throw yourself into the arms of the most pleasurable sin of all.
Lust.
***
The next morning when you woke up at dawn with the chirping birds you felt nauseous and disoriented. You looked around the room and found it immaculate. Your habit was not ripped in two, it was neatly folded on the wooden bedside table along with your veil and underwear. The room was clean and neat: no traces of small pieces of orange carrot anywhere or puddles of cum on the wooden floor. And you were wearing a comfortable full length pyjama gown.
In a flash, disjointed memories came back to you. You remembered the anthracite gray suit, the black bull horns, the raven wings, the defined abs, the devilishly handsome good looks, the tempting smirk and the huge thick angry cock and the immense forbidden pleasure that came along with it.
You sat up and looked behind you hastily, the wall was perfectly smooth, no scrapes of the black horns and most of all the crucifix was perfectly normal, hanging right side up.
You spotted the small, thin, intact carrot next to your pillow and sighed in relief. Yes, you had sinned but you knew if you confessed and prayed hard enough God would forgive you. Afterall, you had never done such a thing and it was shameful and wrong, yes, but they were far greater sins than this one, like selling your soul to the Sin of Lust and bearing his child… You shook your head, chasing away the blurry memory of the nightmare, feeling a weird tingly build up in your lower stomach as you saw flashes of the evil smirks and the huge monstrous-
“It was a dream” you said out loud, sighing, hoping the sound of your own voice would prevent your mind from imagining more of the sinful imagery. “Just a meaningless dream” you told yourself again.
Convinced the soreness between your legs was only due to masturbating for the first time, that the nausea was nothing to worry about and that the spasm inside your belly were benign little cramps.
Seonghwa smirked in victory as he looked at you through the pierced purple smoke. He made it. He broke you beyond repair. He went, won and marked you. And soon he would back to take what you had promised him: an offspring and your soul, body and mind, you.
“See you soon, y/n” he chuckled.
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“Just one more, baby.”
Kinktober day 1: Overstim + Praise
Pairing: Rhysand x Fem!Reader
Summary: Rhys is a sex god, that is all your honor
Warnings: Minors dni | 18+ only | Overstimulation | P in V | multi orgasm | forced/controlled orgasm | clit play | cream pie | mention of oral (f receiving)
A. Note: First day of kinktober! Enjoy this Rhys fic that is simply 2k words of pure smut 💋♥️
2.3k words.
"C'mon baby, give me one more." My mate's words were distant, barely heard through barriers of hot pleasure.
"Rhys," I whimper, his name the only word I could form on my lips anymore. "Rhys," My brows bunch as sweat beads along my hairline.
My limbs were heavy with exertion, and my core throbbed with sensitivity. It felt too good to say it hurt, but gods was it too much.
"You're doing so well," He coos, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to my jaw, the featherlight touch like flames licking up my neck, heat encased me as if I was placed in a freshly put out furnace, and every touch like crackling embers on my bare skin.
"S'too much," I manage to get out, my voice raw and weak from pleading and moaning early this morning. I used the small amount of energy I had left to take a glance at the window, spotting the sun high in the sky— since dawn, he's had me beneath him like this since dawn. I lost track of how many times I had found release nearly hours ago.
Rhys had only reached that peak thrice, and when he was building that endurance back up he would use his mouth on me, there wasn't a moment where I wasn't attended to.
"Please," I cry out, "s'too much," I repeat, tears streaming down my cheeks as he delicately kissed them away, such gentleness in contrast to the way he had been pounding into me earlier.
"I know, I know darling," He murmurs, his voice a soft encouragement. "But you begged for this," He reminded. "Until you forget your own name, remember?" He nipped at the soft skin below my ear and I cried out, regretting my own words— but also thanking every god listening for a mate like this.
"Uh huh— I remember," I say breathlessly, nails scraping down his bare back, corded muscles shifting as he rolled his hips onto mine, his cock spearing into me relentlessly.
"Yeah? Tell me your name then," He suggests, moving his hand from my breast down my torso, and before I can answer his thumb finds my clit, rubbing in tight circles across the puffy, reddened bud. I gasped, my head falling back into the pillows.
I writhe, my body deflecting the overstimulation. "Yours," I rasp, my hands flowing into his dark locks. "I'm, I'm yours, Rhys."
"There she is, that's my good girl," He smiles against my neck, licking and nipping at my marked throat before sucking roughly at a highly sensitive area. I mewl at the sensation, every nerve in my body stretching taut as he continued his torturous ministrations around my clit.
"Please, please," I whine, my legs jolting with uncontrolled spasms.
"Please, what darling?" He prods, his husky voice like a velvet glove wrapped around my throat.
"Please, let me come," I beg. He grins viciously.
"Again, already?" He taunts and I whimper, my lower lip quivering as I prepared myself to plead, to grovel for that release I craved so ardently.
"Yes," I say through a breathless exhale. "Rhys I need, need it," I could hardly string together words, every sound I made another lewd moan.
He ignored my pleas and continued his torment to my pulsing core, his unrelenting and near-punishing movements sending me into a headspace one could only describe as full submission.
Rhys didn't let up, his hand working mercilessly between my legs while his cock hit a spot so deep I couldn't remember where I ended and he began. I was trembling beneath him, my entire body oversensitive, but the craving for release burned through every muscle.
"Rhys," I whimpered, the sound broken as my vision blurred with tears. "I can't—"
"You can," He purred, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "And you will." The authority in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. I clung to him as though he were my only lifeline, nails raking down his back. His muscles shifted and flexed under my touch, and he groaned lowly at the pain mixed with pleasure, the primal sound making me pulse around him.
He knew exactly what he was doing—drawing me to the very edge of what I could handle and then pushing me beyond it.
My body was his to command, and the way his name fell from my lips like a desperate prayer proved it.
"You're mine," he whispered into my ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just beneath. "Every part of you, mine."
I sobbed his name again, my back arching off the bed, muscles straining as I tried to escape the overwhelming pleasure. But Rhys' strong hands held me steady, firm, and inescapable as he pressed me deeper into the bed, his weight grounding me as my body shook with the effort of holding on.
"Atta girl," he murmured, and the praise sent a new wave of heat through my already blazing body. "You're doing so well for me. Just a little more, darling."
His thumb circled my clit faster, the friction against my swollen, overstimulated flesh making my vision blur. My hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging in as if trying to anchor myself, but Rhys barely reacted to the pain, his focus entirely on me. I could hear his breathing now, ragged and uneven, and the thought that he was just as affected as me made something primal coil in my chest.
Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes, mixing with the sheen of sweat on my flushed skin. I felt raw and undone, and yet the heat in my core refused to subside. Rhys pressed another kiss to my tear-streaked cheek, his lips featherlight against my skin, in direct contrast to the way his hips slammed into mine with a ferocity that made my entire body jolt.
"You're so beautiful like this," he said, his voice filled with a quiet reverence that made my heart stutter in my chest. "Completely mine, isn't that right?"
I could barely nod, the overstimulation making it impossible to form a coherent thought, let alone words. Every inch of my skin felt like it was on fire, too sensitive to bear another touch, but Rhys didn't stop. He wanted me like this—teetering on the edge of too much, completely at his mercy.
"Tell me," he commanded, his voice rough with need. "Tell me you're mine."
"I'm yours," I sobbed, my voice shaking as another tremor of pleasure raced up my spine. "I'm—I'm yours, Rhys, yours."
His grip tightened on my thigh, pulling me closer until his cock was buried so deep inside me that it felt like he was part of me, like he was in my blood, in my very bones.
"So perfect," he praised, and the words washed over me like a balm, soothing the ache of pain even as he pushed me dangerously close to that edge I've already gone over a multitude of times. His pace quickened, and the sound of his skin slapping against mine filled the room, mingling with my ragged breaths and desperate moans.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful so fucked out like this, you love this don’t you?” His hot mouth ghosted my jaw. “Love being stretched out and filled up?”
I barely heard him, lost in the blinding pleasure. It coursed through every nerve, and my vision blurred with tears as my body trembled uncontrollably. But Rhys never let go, holding me steady, his hand still working my clit with maddening precision. Even as I tried to pull away from the overwhelming sensations, he kept me grounded, refusing to let me escape the pleasure.
"I—Rhys, please," I gasped, my voice breaking as the overstimulation bordered on unbearable. My legs shook, and I tried to close them, desperate for a reprieve, but my limbs felt boneless, and moving was impossible. His grip on my thigh tightened, sensing my protest and keeping me open and vulnerable beneath him.
"Just a little more, darling," he coerced, his breath hot against my ear. "You can take it, I know you can." His praise wrapped around me like a warm blanket, pulling me deeper into the haze of pleasure. Even as my body screamed for mercy, something in his voice soothed the ache, and made me want to give him everything.
"You're doing so well," he continued, his voice gentle now as if he knew I was teetering on the edge of my limits. "Such a good girl for me. Just one more, darling. I know you can give me one more."
I whimpered, my nails digging into his back as I clung to him, feeling like I might break apart at the seams. Rhys always knew exactly how to push me—just far enough to test my limits, but never so far that I couldn't handle it. And right now, his voice, his praise, was the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely.
"Please," I begged, my voice hoarse from crying out his name over and over. "Rhys, I—"
"I know," he soothed, his lips brushing over the tears staining my cheeks. "I know, darling. You can come. Let go f’me."
His thumb circled my clit with devastating precision, and my body betrayed me, a fresh wave of pleasure crashing through my already trembling frame. The orgasm hit me harder than any before, and I felt myself unraveling in Rhys' arms. My entire body tensed, my toes curling as another sob escaped from the back of my throat, my mind going blank as all I could feel was him—everywhere, inside and out.
"Good girl," he praised, his voice thick with satisfaction. "That's it, come for me. Give me everything, darling."
I shattered completely, the pleasure so intense that I couldn't even scream. My body convulsed around him, my nails raking down his back as I clung to him like he was the only thing anchoring me to the earth. And I clamped down, hard. He groaned at the pressure, even pulling out and pushing in was an effort I was so tight around his cock.
His muscled back shifted beneath my nails as his cock twitched against my sensitive walls, and then warmth flooded my fluttering core as he finally found his release, his seed seeping into each of my crevices, implanting inside of me thoroughly for the fourth time that day.
“So, so good. All for me, right?” He said, his voice raw and slightly groggy as he spoke beside my ear.
I nodded weakly, tears streaming down my face as my body sagged into the bed, completely spent. Every muscle felt limp, exhausted from the endless waves of pleasure, and my chest heaved as I struggled to catch my breath. But even as I fell apart, Rhys was there, his strong hands guiding me through every movement, his soothing words wrapping around me like silk.
"So beautiful," he whispered, his voice nurturing as he slowed his movements, finally giving me the mercy I so desperately needed. "You're so beautiful like this, darling. Completely mine."
I whimpered, barely able to respond, but he pressed a soft kiss to my lips, his mouth gentle against mine. "Shh, I've got you," he whispered. "You're safe, darling. You did so well."
His praise was endless, a constant stream of soft murmurs as he continued to press kisses to my flushed cheeks, my forehead, and the corner of my mouth. Each one felt like a reward, and even through the haze of exhaustion, I felt my heart swell at his words.
He held me close, his body still pressed against mine as he finally eased out of me, the loss of his warmth making me whimper. But Rhys was quick to soothe me, guiding my legs together, and allowing me to breathe a long sigh of relief.
"You were perfect," he murmured, sidling into the space beside me and pulling me close to his chest, as if unable to let me go after being connected all day. His fingers stroked through my hair as my breathing slowly steadied. "You always are."
I sighed, pressing my face into the crook of his neck, the warmth of his body and the soft praise in his voice lulling me into a comfortable haze. I felt safe, cherished, and completely undone in the best way possible.
I look into his dilated, violet eyes. Seeing only worry and admiration in that familiar gaze, none of the dark lust from earlier remained.
"Too much?" he asked, a hint of playful concern in his voice as his fingers traced lazy circles on my skin, over my hip, along my spine.
I managed a weak smile, eyes heavy with exhaustion. "Maybe just a little," I say, voice scratchy from screaming his name.
Rhys chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into my very heart. "I'll keep that in mind for next time." He murmured, pressing a loving kiss to my forehead.
I groaned lightly at the promise in his voice, but couldn't find the energy to do much more. He shifted, pulling a blanket over our naked bodies before shifting me more comfortably against him.
For a long while, neither of us spoke, content to simply bask in the aftermath of the moment. My eyes fluttered closed, but before I could drift off completely, I felt Rhys's fingers tangle in my hair, his voice a soft murmur against the quiet.
"I love you," he said, his tone serious now, reverent.
My heart stuttered in my chest at the tender emotion in his voice, my eyes blinking open to find him staring down at me with that deep, endless devotion.
"I love you too," I whispered, barely able to find my voice.
He smiled then, the kind of smile that melted the world away, making me feel like nothing else mattered but this moment, the two of us wrapped up in each other. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my lips—gentle this time, doting. And at that moment, with my heart still racing from the pleasure and the love swirling between us, I knew there was nowhere else I’d rather be.
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— summary: Rafe loves to make you cry and beg.
— warnings: smut! 18+ mentions of alcohol and cocaine, mean!rafe, dom!rafe, sub!reader, humiliation kink (maybe? idk he makes reader beg him to go fuck her in front of a shit ton of ppl), thigh riding (with ppl watching), fingering, fem receiving oral, edging, spanking, unprotected sex, degrading names (slut, whore), praise.
likes, comments n reblogs are appreciated.<3
❥ beg for it, princess — r.c
You had been very open with Rafe about the things you wanted him to do to you, with you. You’ve never hidden a kink from him, and he never hid any from you.
Rafe very quickly showed you just how willing he was to please you, he’d do absolutely anything to make his princess happy, and you would do anything for him, even if that meant letting him put you in the most painful situations, humiliate you, make you feel like a worthless slut.
For him, you’d gladly be his worthless slut, because at the end of the day, you knew he loved you. He’d do the most disgusting things to you, calling you the most degrading names while also praising you, telling you how fucking good you were doing for him.
And then, when he was done using you, he’d take care of you — Putting you in the bath and cleaning you, kissing the sides of you face and rubbing at your sore body, telling you how good you did for him. To you, it was all worth it.
You were his pathetic whore, but you were also his princess. And both were titles that you would gladly wear with a big fucking smile on your face.
-
You and Rafe are sat in the middle of a large, crowded room. His right arm is protectively wrapped around your waist, fingers digging into the exposed skin of your stomach, the thin crop top you’d chosen to wear tonight showing off just the right amount of your smooth skin.
Bringing your red solo cup to your lips, you take a small sip before resting your head on Rafe’s shoulder. He’s in the middle of a deal, a Kook by the name of Jaxon sat across from you and Rafe, trying to bargain with your boyfriend.
“C’mon man, just give it to me for $150. I promise, i’ll pay you back in two days” Jaxon says, his heavy eyes darting from Rafe’s ocean-blue ones and down to the cocaine on the table.
The corners of Rafe’s lips rise into a small amused smirk, and he rolls his head to the side, his pretty blue eyes finding yours. You lift your head to meet his intense stare, your lashes fluttering as you take another sip of your drink. “You know, Jax, i’m real into begging. Just ask Y/N. She’s always begging me to let her come, and that shits hot as fuck,” he pauses, making a tsking noise with his tongue and teeth, and your face all but turns a bright shade of red, head bowing as you bite at the rim of your cup, “But it’s just pathetic to see a grown ass man beg, especially when I know for a fact you can afford the asking price”
Jaxon’s eyes rise to look at you before they return to Rafe. He lets out a loud sigh, pulling his wallet from his back pocket and pulling out three crisp hundred dollar bills, slapping them to the table, “There. $300. Can I just have my shit now?”
Rafe smirks again, arching a brow before he releases a long breath. Rafe slowly grabs the money from the table, turning and shoving it into your black lace bra before he turns to face Jaxon again. “See, now was that so hard?” He chuckles when Jax rolls his eyes, then he moves and grabs one of the small tightly wrapped baggies, placing it between the tips of his index and middle fingers, hanging them toward Jaxon.
Jaxon yanks the small baggie from between his finger tips, letting out a huff as he moves to stand to his feet and storming away from the table. Once he’s gone, you turn and slap Rafe on the chest, a slightly annoyed and embarrassed look on your face. “Seriously? You had to drag me into that?”
Rafe laughs, turning his body to face you and wrapping his left hand around your body as well. You squeal when he uses both hands to pull you into his lap, forcing your legs to straddle either side of his hips. He leans forward, pressing his lips against yours in a heated kiss. He forces his tongue into your mouth, dominating yours instantly and making you moan into him.
Pulling away from your lips, you find yourself chasing his, an empty feeling washing over you from the loss of his lips. “You know it was funny, baby. Besides, my little slut loves to be humiliated”
You blush at the vulgar name he’s called you, but your pussy pulses, butterflies filling your stomach when you hear the name fall past his lips. As fucked up as it may sound, you did love when he humiliated you in front of people, you weren’t sure why, but it turned you on.
Rafe runs his hands down the small of your back, reaching your ass and tightly cupping it. Your hips buck forward and back arches when he begins softly massaging at the plump flesh of your ass. He slowly lifts your hips, placing you back down on his left thigh. He grabs your solo cup from your hand, downing what’s left in it and tossing it behind the two of you before his hands find your hips again.
His fingers find the waistband of your black denim shorts, shoving them down the front of them and running is fingers along the skin of your lower belly. A shiver runs through your body when you feel how close he gets to your panties and your legs tighten around his jeans-clad thigh. His eyes flick up to find yours, a smirk plastered on his lips when he sees how worked up he’s got you.
“Does my princess want to be fucked?” He asks, voice low and raspy as he pushes his fingers into the front of your lace panties.
Your breath hitches in your throat, and you open your mouth to speak but nothing except a soft, pathetic moan slips from your lips. Rafe removes his hand from inside your shorts, placing it back on your hips and pressing your pussy into his thigh, allowing your clit to gain the stimulation you were craving.
You begin whimpering as you rock your hips back and forth on his thigh, his hands gripping your hips and helping you move. “That’s it baby, ride my thigh. Let everyone see how fucking desperate you are for my cock”
Your heart begins pounding in your chest as you rub yourself against his thigh, the rough material of his jeans making your inner thigh tingle, the delicious pressure on your clit pulling moans from your mouth. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, licking and biting at his smooth skin as your hips continue to rock back and fourth, a pressure building inside of you, burning brightly and wanting to explode from you when the sounds of laughter fill your ears.
Panic washes over you when you lift your head and notice many sets of eyes on you and Rafe, peoples phones pulled out and pointed toward the two of you. For a moment, you’d forgotten that you weren’t alone, forgot you were in the middle of a large living room with all of your friends crowding it. You begin breathing heavily, tears stinging at your eyes as you hear the hushed whispers about you.
Rafe cups your face in his large hands, forcing your eyes on him as he whispers, “Fuck them” He pauses when you squeeze your eyes shut, letting the first few tears fall in embarrassment, but Rafe’s fingers squeezing your cheeks have you forcing them back open, “Hey, eyes on me baby. Let them know how badly you need to be fucked, beg me for it, and i’ll take you upstairs”
A whine falls from your forcefully parted lips, and you shake your head from side to side, wishing that the ground would just swallow you whole. You couldn’t deny it though, you were turned on. All of the eyes on you, even if they were judging you, it turned you on. You never understood why you loved the humiliation Rafe gave you, you should feel ashamed, you should hate him for putting you in positions like this, but you don’t. Instead, your pussy throbs with need, wanting to feel his cock buried inside you.
“Come on, baby girl. I know you want to. Beg me to fuck you, let them all hear how much of a needy whore you are for me”
He releases your face from his hands, allowing you to throw your head forward and into his neck. His hand slaps across your ass, making you cry out from the sting it left, and you finally lift your head, pleading eyes on his. “Please? Please Rafe, I need you to fuck me. Want to be your needy whore”
Rafe softly kisses the corner of your mouth, his eyes darting around the room at all of the eyes trained on you and him. His hands tightly grip at the bottom of your thighs, lifting you with him as he stands from the couch and whispering, “Such a good fucking girl. Gotta let everyone know who the fuck you’re a needy little slut for”
He carries you up a staircase and pushes into an empty bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him with his foot. He turns, slamming your back against the closed door, pinning you in place before his lips smash into yours. You open up for him, allowing him to deepen the kiss and force his tongue into your mouth. You moan into his mouth, rolling your hips against his waist, trying to relieve some of the pressure you felt between your legs.
Rafe breaks the kiss, but his lips still hover over yours. “Beg for it baby. Beg me to fuck you”
“Please..?” You whimper, the pressure between your legs growing. You were soaked. Pussy pulsing. You needed him, but you knew he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted unless you earned it. And the only way you’d earn it, was by being pathetic and begging him.
He chuckles, his darkened over eyes finding yours. “Please what, princess? Tell me what you need”
“Please fuck me. Need your tongue, your fingers, your cock. Please…? I’ll be a good girl, just want to come.. Please, Rafe?”
Tears begin to fill your eyes. You felt pathetic. Begging to be fucked. But you didn’t care, no. No you needed him, he was like a fucking drug that you couldn’t get enough of.
He walks you over to the large bed that’s in the room, sitting you on your ass at the edge and dropping to his knees. “God I love how fucking needy and pathetic you are f’me baby” He says as his fingers pop the button of your shorts. Your breath catches in your throat when he pulls the zipper down, his fingers dropping and running across the skin of your inner thighs.
“Rafe…”
He dips his head down, his lips leaving hot, open mouthed kisses on your inner thighs. You squirm, bringing your hands to the waistband of your shorts and pushing them down. His eyes find yours, amusement in his eyes. He swats your hands away, using his own to pull your shorts down your legs and tossing them behind him onto the floor.
His eyes land on your pink lace thong, his tongue darting out to lick across his bottom lip. “You’re soaked, princess” he coos. Your face turns a bright shade of red and you quickly bring your hands up, burying your face into them.
Rafe makes a tsking noise as he runs his tongue across his top teeth. His large hands come up to your small wrists, gripping at them softly and peeling them from your face. He brings them down to your sides before releasing them. His head dips down to your inner thighs, leaving another searing kiss to the skin. His hands grip at your thighs, pulling you further down the mattress and placing your shaking legs over his shoulders, pushing your panties to the side in the process. You suck in a sharp breath when you feel his lips trailing kisses from the inside of your thighs and to your pelvic bone.
“R-Rafe… Please?”
He smirks against your skin, letting out an airy laugh as his darkened over blue eyes find yours. “Please what? Gotta let me know what you want baby…” He says, trailing his words off as he leaves another kiss on the top of your pussy, his mouth inching closer to where you need him most.
“Your mouth. Your cock. I need you, Rafe. Please” You cry out. His teeth sink into the skin of your inner thigh, making you cry out in pain and pleasure as he sucks a deep purple bruise into the flesh.
He releases your flesh from his lips, licking the fresh, new bruise before he begins working his way up your thighs and to your aching cunt. He places a soft kiss on your weeping core. You suck in a shaky breath when his tongue finally licks through your folds. He licks from the bottom up to your clit, flicking his tongue over the swollen and sensitive bud. His tongue begins to slowly lick up and down your soaked core, over and over again, pulling the most pathetic but sweet whines from you.
Your fingers fly into his hair, tugging softly at the messy locks as you tighten your thighs around his head, locking him in place. His tongue doesn’t let up, he laps up your juices like a starved man as you continue to cry out his name, waves of pleasure rushing through your entire body. He takes his right hand and pushes your leg down onto the bed, his grip bruising. He runs his tongue up and through your folds again, reaching your clit and sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth.
Moving his left hand from your leg, he snakes it between the two of you, running his thick fingers through your soaked folds before plunging his index and middle fingers inside of you. He curls them slightly, softly caressing that sweet spot inside of you that has your toes curling and tears falling past your bottom lashes. He creates a quick pace with his fingers, his mouth unrelenting as he continues to suck on your clit. You feel the fire burning inside of you, your release building and threatening to burst.
Your pussy clamps down around Rafe’s fingers, letting him know you’re close to the edge. He slows his fingers, stilling them inside of you and releases your clit from his lips with a pop, making you let out a frustrated whine. “Why’d you stop?!” You ask breathlessly, your head lifted just enough to find him staring up at you from between your legs. He has an amused smirk on his lips, his face and chin glistening with your arousal.
“Because, you’re gonna be a good girl and cum all over my cock”
You throw your head back in a huff, crossing your arms over your chest and pouting like a child whose parent told them they couldn’t get a treat at the grocery store. Rafe rises from his knees, his tall frame towering over you on the bed. He brings his right hand to caress your cheek before he slowly runs it down to your throat, his fingers wrapping around it and squeezing tightly, but not enough to take away your air. “Don’t be a fucking brat, or else you won’t cum tonight. Alright?”
You nod your head the best you can, tears spilling from your eyes from the ache you felt between your thighs and the pressure from Rafe’s hand around your throat.
He releases your neck and his hands fly to pop the button of his jeans before moving on to slide his zipper down. You watch him intently as he shoves the rough material down his legs, kicking them off to the side before he grips the hem of his baby blue polo and rips it up and over his head. Your mouth pools with saliva, the sight of Rafe’s shirtless body making you physically drool all over yourself.
He climbs on top of you, his left hand baring his weight while his right hand shoves his boxers down his legs. He grips the base of his cock in his right hand, stroking at it a few times before he slides his swollen head through your folds. You squirm underneath him, hips bucking forward as you silently pleaded with him to fuck you.
You open your mouth to beg some more, but your words die on your tongue, a loud gasp falling past your lips as he shoves himself inside you without warning. He slowly pulls himself out before harshly slamming back inside you, his pink tip kissing at that spot inside you that has you seeing stars. He watches intently as he pushes and pulls his cock from inside you, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. “You’ve already got a mess all over my cock baby girl. Fucking beautiful” He breathes out as he harshly slams his hips into yours again.
He pulls himself from inside you, his arms wrapping around your waist and flipping you onto your stomach has you squealing loudly. “On your hands and knees baby. Bring your knees to your chest, ass up in the air f’me”
You quickly do as he says, positioning yourself on all fours and tucking your knees up under your chest. A loud moan slips past your lips when Rafe’s hand slaps at your ass, the sting it left behind causing more tears to spill from your eyes. A dark chuckle emits from Rafe’s chest, “My girl loves when i’m rough with her, yeah?” Another slap. “I love making you cry” Another slap. “The sound makes my cock throb”
Tears stream uncontrollably down your face as Rafe continues to slap your ass, the sting bringing you an overwhelming amount of pain and pleasure. “Rafe, plea— Ah!”
Rafe shoves his cock inside you again, making your pleas die on your tongue. You fist the sheets beneath you, eyes rolling into the back of your head as Rafe pounds himself into you at a ruthless pace.
Your pussy clamps down around him, sucking him in deeper. Your loud cries bounce off the walls, and you’re sure the entire party can hear you, but you don’t care. It feels too fucking good to care. The pressure in your lower belly begins to build, a bright white light burns in the back of your eyes.
“You’re so close baby. You’re fuckin’ squeezin’ me so tight. Milk my fucking cock dry baby” Rafe rasps.
A string of curses and moans slip past your lips as your pussy clenches around him, the pressure building up and bursting free. Euphoria racks your body, your legs shaking and toes curling as you come undone around Rafe’s cock.
Rafe growls, leaning his body forward so his lips are brushing against the shell of your ear. “Such a good fucking girl, ‘m right behind- fuck!”
He slams into you one final time, his dick twitching as he fills your pussy with his cum. His teeth sink into your shoulder, pulling back he kisses the bite mark and whispers, “Did so fucking good f’me baby. Let’s get you home and cleaned up”
RAFE TAGLIST: @targaryenbarbie @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @lexasaurs634 @lyndys @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @atorturedpoetx @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @cantstoptherecs @pradabambie @slut4ani @kamninaries @biggesthat3r @wearemadeofstardust
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Emotions of the Soul | knj
☆summary: when Namjoon reappears in your life after thirteen years of absence, you find yourself unsure of what he means to you, and of what you mean to him. Anxiety reigns over you, but will it be enough to drag you away from Kim Namjoon?
☆pairing: Kim Namjoon x artist female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)
☆genre: childhood/teenage lovers to strangers to lovers, idol!au, smut, angst, fluff
☆warnings: alcohol, anxiety, a reference to the reader in Now We Reign if you guys can catch it, cursing, stupid teenage threats of m*rder, an appearance from the reader in Forever, pet names, paparazzi, imposter syndrome, an ugly teenage breakup flashback, explicit content: mentions of blindfolding, switch!Namjoon, big dick!Namjoon, switch!reader, oral sex (male and female receiving), jerking off, dirty talking?, balls fondling, face riding, breast play, fingering, protected sex, praise, hair pulling (ish), ass slapping, tummy bulge (? lmao), choking, cumshot, cum eating, unprotected sex, he calls OC a slut once or twice I think
☆word count: 36.3k
☆a/n: Oof I don't know why but writing this was so so hard?? I'm happy I finally managed to finish it tho! It delves into the subject of anxiety and its effects on people, so it's a little heavy, but I hope you'll still enjoy it <3 As always, thank you to @moonleeai for her incredible work as my beta reader! You’re the best <3
☆Read the other installments in the Life Goes On series here!
☆☆☆☆☆
The music in the gallery was loud. It probably fitted a club better than an art exhibit, the upbeat melody having more than one person dancing and nodding their head to it. The atmosphere was warm, stuffy, even though the front doors had been left open in the hopes of getting the fresh November air in. It failed majestically, and you were sweating in your too-tight dress by the refreshment table in a corner, watching over the crowd.
You had never seen so many people in your gallery before. Had never thought your art would attract that amount of people, but it seemed the art enthusiasts of Seoul had flocked to your gallery tonight, looking to experience the art of a new talent firsthand.
At least that was what the journalists were saying, even though you had been an artist since you were a middle schooler. Fingers always stained with ink, teachers scolding you for never paying attention…
Middle school had seen your love for art blossom the way azaleas blossom after a long winter. With bright petals, vivid with life, though your art had first been the colour of the darkest nights. It had taken you years before you had incorporated colours into it, and now you were proud to see the myriad of shades painted on your pieces.
You sighed, and you reckoned maybe the mask you were wearing was the reason why you felt so stuffy. But you weren’t going to risk being recognized – no, you liked enjoying your exhibits in the anonymity of an art enthusiast. Rare were those who knew who the artist actually was, and you felt like it was the best way to have actual feedback on your art.
No one coated their words with sugar when they spoke with just another art enthusiast. So tonight, you wore the mask of the artist, the one people knew you for. It preserved your identity but also allowed people to know who the artist was when they had to. Like tonight, considering that it was the opening of your newest exhibit, The Colours of Fall.
You ordered a glass of apple-flavoured soju mixed with beer, bowing your head in thanks at the employee behind the table when they offered it to you. When you turned back around, your eyes trailed to the wall of windows on one side of the room. Though some pieces were hung there, with spotlights behind the windows to create shadows into the pieces, you still were able to see the black Sedan that was parking outside.
Paparazzi outside started flashing their cameras as someone walked out, and all you could see from where you were was a mop of black hair. More than one celebrity was in attendance tonight, so you didn’t pay attention to the person arriving more than necessary, instead focusing on the exhibit once more.
It was going well. Far better than you had first imagined it would. You had already sold numerous pieces, and your brain was running a mile a minute with ideas of what you could replace them with.
Your mask only hid the top part of your face, so you easily took a sip of your drink, inadvertently bobbing your head to the music. It was good music, it really was, but you couldn’t wait for the actual playlist you had chosen to begin.
Which wasn’t going to be for a whole other hour, unfortunately. After you said your speech and the lights turned to red, orange, and the rich yellow of autumn leaves.
Your manager moved closer to you, and she offered you a wide smile. You nodded your head and watched as she ordered the same drink as you, before standing next to you.
“The celebrity scene is going crazy over your exhibit,” Na Sooah said. “Most of those invited showed up.”
“I still can’t believe you invited the whole celebrity scene,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “Most of them know nothing about art.”
Sooah laughed. “Not all of them! Kim Namjoon just arrived.”
Your throat went dry, and the hand clutching your glass tightened at the mention of Namjoon’s name. Kim Namjoon. Your childhood friend Kim Namjoon. Your first kiss, your first time… and a member of the most famous boy group in the world. More than that, Namjoon was a fellow art enthusiast.
Namjoon’s love for art started at the same time as yours. He had been enthralled by your drawings, believing that you had a gift that needed to be nurtured and protected. Like his love for music, though his comparisons most often made no sense. To you, that is.
Namjoon had been your first heartbreak, back when every emotion felt deeper than the ocean, when anger, pain, and sadness ran longer than eternity. Back when he hadn’t even joined Big Hit yet.
“Kim Namjoon,” you repeated, tasting his name in your mouth for the first time since that ugly October night when you had told him you hated him more than anything in this world, and he had left without even a single look back.
You had never spoken after that. You had never talked about him anymore either, not to your friends or family. And when you had begged your parents to change school, they had caved in, letting you attend the same school as your cousin Miyoung.
Miyoung had been your closest friend since then, until Sooah had come into your life to form a trio with you and your cousin when you had attended college in arts.
“Yeah, he’s created quite a commotion outside,” Sooah commented, and you remembered the mop of black hair.
Could that have been Namjoon?
“And when he RSVP’ed, he mentioned that he would like to have a talk with the artist, so I hope you’re ready,” Sooah added, teasingly.
You glared at her through your mask. “You couldn’t have told me before?”
“No.”
You rolled your eyes once more, not so playfully this time, taking another sip of your drink. “He’s Kim Namjoon, you could have let a girl prepare.”
At that, Sooah laughed out loud. “Got a little crush?”
“Quite the opposite,” you said through gritted teeth.
You hated Kim Namjoon.
You noticed him then. He was dressed simply, yet it was elegant, somehow. Or maybe it was the way he carried himself, with his large and tall frame, that made him elegant. Because you doubted a pair of jeans with a gray cardigan over a light blue polo was supposed to be this elegant. His long coat matched the colour of his cardigan almost to perfection, and he flashed dimples to the employee at the coat check as he took off the coat, revealing more of his large frame.
Needless to say, Kim Namjoon didn’t look like he could rip a log in two with his bare hands back when you had first known him. No, he had been a thin, gangly teen, with arms that seemed too long for his frame.
When he was rid of his coat, he moved to the side to let the man behind him give his coat away, and then the two of them started walking together.
You had no idea who the other man was, but from the looks of it, he was a friend, as Namjoon laughed along with him.
One of your hands moved to your face, gently grazing your mask to make sure it was still well-fitted. It was like one of those masks people wore at the Venice carnival. It matched the theme of your exhibit, with autumn leaves craftily molded into it. It was a piece of art in and of itself, like all the masks you wore as an artist.
He wouldn’t recognize you. You were positive he wasn’t going to be able to recognize you with just the lower part of your face on display, especially after so many years apart. Your voice had changed to – matured, aged, like your features, quite honestly.
After all, the last time Kim Namjoon had seen you, you had been a crying, yelling, angsty fifteen-year-old.
Sooah left you to a couple that was looking to buy one of the backlit art pieces, and you explained to them the process behind the creation of the art they had chosen, eyes once in a while flitting around to make sure Kim Namjoon wasn’t in your vicinity yet.
He wasn’t. He was perusing around the gallery, stopping to talk to other celebrities once in a while, and so far, you weren’t even sure he had looked your way. Which was a good thing, because that meant maybe you’d make it to your speech before he actually tried talking to you.
You could leave immediately after your speech, right?
“And what about the subject of autumn interested you so much?” the older man in front of you asked.
You blinked out of your reverie, offering him a practiced, easy smile. “If you had to choose, would you want to witness the beginning or the end?” you asked.
It was the catchphrase of your speech. Though people could argue that the year ended and began in the winter months, you had always seen a finality in the months of fall and had portrayed it in your art.
The man seemed taken aback by your question. He cocked his head to the side, before glancing at his wife. “The end carries weight,” the wife said pensively. “It carries age and wisdom.”
You offered her a polite nod. “Exactly. I find beauty in the end and chose to portray it with the months of autumn. When life seems to come to its end.”
“Fall is beautiful,” the man agreed. “But wouldn’t you argue the start holds more beauty? With all the possibilities that it carries.”
“A different kind of beauty. Which, maybe it’s going to inspire my next exhibit,” you teased, secretively, and the couple laughed.
You talked to them a little more, and it seemed life had salvation to offer you because Sooah was the one that came to you first, and not Kim Namjoon. You said goodbye to the couple, before following your manager to the spot where you were to say your speech. As usual, nerves wracked your whole body at the sight of the standing mic, and you had to resist not to bring your thumb to your mouth to nibble on the nail. It was a habit you had gotten rid of only recently, and you really didn’t want it to come back.
Especially not in front of a crowd such as this one, in which you knew Kim Namjoon was standing.
Sooah stopped in the crowd, pushing you forward gently, inciting you to walk the rest of the way yourself. Your heart beat out of your chest as if it was about to escape your ribcage, and you took a deep steadying breath before moving out of the crowd.
The music stopped, and the lights immediately dimmed, until all that was left was a single spotlight, which shone on you as you stopped next to the mic. Back turned to the crowd, eyes skimming over the biggest piece of your exhibit. Ilsan lay before you, draped in the colours of autumn.
You breathed in and out one last time, and then you turned, stepping in front of the mic.
“If you could choose,” you started, voice steadier than you expected it’d be. “Would you choose the end or the beginning?”
The couple you had been speaking to smiled wildly at your sentence, and you let the silence linger long enough for people to whisper their own answer. Music started with low traditional instruments replacing the upbeat melody from earlier.
“There is a form of beauty in the end. In knowing you’ve seen it all, and that rest is at your door,” you continued. “There’s beauty in looking back, in wisdom, and in the Colours of Autumn.” You paused, looking over the crowd. You noticed Namjoon standing at the back, listening politely. “My exhibition carries this: the end of the year, of the cycle of nature. The beauty of fall, of leaves and October nights and November rains.” You wondered if people could tell that your hand was slightly trembling, where it held the mic. “When the wind catches and leaves blow, it is time to look back. So tonight, I want you all to take a step back, to look back on your lives and ask yourselves, ‘Have I found the wisdom of The Colours of Autumn?’”
The spotlight turned off, and you walked away from the mic to the crowd. When you turned back to look at the piece of Ilsan, a projector came to life and the story you had prepared started.
You tuned it out: you had seen the shadow and light projections so many times already they had lost all sense to you. It often happened – if you stared at your art for too long, it lost all its meaning. So you usually didn’t look back on a piece right away. You waited for the end, for the concretization that came with your exhibits, and only then did you look back.
Except the lights and shadows. You had watched those fifteen times yesterday only to make sure that everything was perfect. And you were quite the perfectionist, you knew that they were.
While everyone was watching, you slowly made your way to the back of the crowd. You surprisingly still had your drink in your hands, and you took a careful sip as you finally slipped out of the big of the crowd. The drink was flat now, and you tried to head towards the refreshment table in order to rid yourself of it.
It seemed your calculations had been wrong, because Kim Namjoon stood in front of you, in all his tall glory.
All his infuriating glory, as dimples graced his cheeks at the sight of you. They stopped you in your tracks, and you gazed up at him, eyes connecting even through the dim lighting. His friend was standing next to him, and your eyes flitted to him once before looking at Namjoon again.
Namjoon nodded his head, politely, before taking a sip of the beer he was holding. You nodded back, and then you resumed moving, thoughts spiraling like leaves in the fall wind. You made it all the way to the small door that led to the stairs to your studio before you were stopped by a large hand on your elbow.
You knew who it was without having to turn around, and you would have cursed him for not watching the show had applauds not sounded, indicating that it was over anyway.
“Hi,” Namjoon politely said when you were finally facing his way. His hand had long returned to the pocket of his jeans, and he looked infinitely nonchalant, standing there in front of you. “Sorry for the intrusion, but your manager told me to be quick to speak to you at the end if I didn’t want to miss you.”
Sooah could go to hell.
You offered a polite chuckle, though to you, it sounded like you were choking on air. Because frankly, you felt like you were. “I do usually slip away in the night,” you answered. You glanced at the door, hating that your salvation had been so close yet so far. “You caught me right before I was to leave.”
When you faced Namjoon again, you noticed the confused look on his features. His brows were furrowed over his eyes, his lips were slightly parted, and he had tilted his head to the side in confusion. His eyes, slightly narrowed, made him look like some sort of dragon, and God were you well placed to know Namjoon could breathe fire if he wanted.
At least when he was a teen, he could.
“I’ve been trying to get in contact with you,” Namjoon admitted. “Your manager said to come here if I wanted a chance to talk to you.”
You cocked an eyebrow, though the mask hid it from view. What the hell could Namjoon want to speak to you about?
“I’ve noticed you portray Ilsan in your art a lot, and since I come from there, I wanted to know if I could buy a piece,” he added to your stunned silence.
“You didn’t have to talk to me to ask for that,” you said, and you glanced around at the employees on the floor that were in charge of the actual selling.
“I wanted to have the artist’s insight on which piece she’d believe would fit best for me,” he continued, and he seemed to realize then that this was weird. He scratched the back of his neck, shrugging his shoulders a little. “Or maybe even have one made personally?”
Now, you remembered why you hated Kim Namjoon. “I do not take commissions,” you flatly replied. “If you wish to buy a piece, you can auction for one with one of my employees.”
“Sorry,” Namjoon quickly said. “I didn’t want to sound rude. Like at all. It’s just… there was this piece I really liked from your last exposition, Winds of the West? I couldn’t buy it in time.”
“I do not remake pieces.”
Silence followed your statement. Had he only then noticed how cold you were towards him?
“Right,” he eventually said. “How unfortunate. I think the person that bought it is here today. Might as well go talk to them.”
It was said like a joke, but you didn’t bite, remaining entirely stoic in front of him. Kim Namjoon didn’t seem to like it, as if he was used to people bending to his every wish, and he probably was.
“Might as well,” you agreed, hoping that it was going to make him leave.
It seemed it did the trick, because he looked over his shoulder, probably searching for the person in question. When his eyes settled back on you, he said, “Guess I’ll let you escape through the night.”
You pursed your lips, nodding once. And just because you wanted to preserve your artist image a little, even though you reckoned you had been rude to him, you said, “Good luck with getting the piece.”
At that, he lit up, and the dimples appeared.
You hated that after all these years, they still had an effect on you.
“Thank you, Maehwa,” he gently said.
Hearing him say your artist’s name had you freezing on the spot. You hoped he didn’t see the panic in your eyes, and the colours draining from the half of your face visible to people. He did furrow his eyebrows once more though, looking pensive, but you didn’t give him a chance to say anything else. Indeed, you quickly wished him good night, before turning around and stepping through the door.
Once you were in the cool darkness, back pressed against the door you’d just locked, you took another deep steadying breath, like the one you had taken before your speech.
Maehwa had been Namjoon’s nickname for you, all those years ago. Because back then, you had mostly been drawing flowers and had been attracted to the maehwas, the blooms of a plum. But maehwas were common and loved, and there was no way he could have connected the dots. He didn’t seem like he had, or else you were pretty sure he would have approached you in an entirely different fashion. Indeed, back then, he had told you he’d kill you if he ever saw you again, which, in your fifteen-year-old heart, had been quite the threat.
Once you were calmed, you walked down the stairs, breathing in a sigh of relief at the sight of your studio. Right now, it was pretty much empty, save for the painting you had started for Miyoung’s wedding next summer.
She wasn’t even engaged yet, but her boyfriend Doyoon had let you in on the secret since you were going to help with the proposal in a few weeks. You glanced at the painting, almost wishing to work on it a little just to get your mind off things. But it was late, and you’d rather be at home, with your cat Gabi.
Was it your fault if memories of Kim Namjoon swam in your head until late that night? You highly doubted so. And looking back, you couldn’t see any beauty in your ending. You, who preached that all endings held beauty. Had you just been too immature then? You thought perhaps you had been, but it didn’t really matter anymore though, did it? It couldn’t.
Why, then, were you unable to shake Kim Namjoon out of your thoughts, until troubled sleep found you in its embrace?
*****
December was grand. With showers of fluffy snow that left a blanket on the world, and Miyoung’s engagement party. You painted, stained your fingers with blue and purple to match the colours of the winter landscape, and by the time January came, you had all but forgotten how Kim Namjoon had just reappeared one evening in late November.
Your studio was cool at this time of the year, and the windows at the top of the walls had iced with frost. You were wearing a thick sweater, with a pair of leggings you had long stained with paint, back when you were working on the fall Ilsan piece.
Indie music was playing in the background, a new artist that had been taking over Seoul and South Korea with her music. It was sad, but Miyoung had insisted that you listen to it, saying that the artist had been rookie of the year at MAMA last year. You had been supposed to accompany Miyoung to the singer’s stadium show too, but you had ended up being sick, and Sooah had gone in your stead.
The music was lonely, nostalgic, but the lyrics were powerful and inspiring. So you kept on painting, as the light of the rising sun slowly melted the frost on the window, though the corners clung to it like one clings to a lover just returned from war.
You hadn’t slept last night. Had stayed up working on your current piece, and exhaustion was slowly catching up to you, even though the inspiration hadn’t worn off yet. So you kept working, head tilting to the side whenever you finished a small part, waiting to know what the next step in the journey was.
You had a fist on your hip when Sooah and Miyoung both appeared at the top of the stairs leading to the basement, voices cheery and loud in the relative calmness of your studio.
“Please tell me you haven’t been up all night,” Miyoung scolded you, and your gaze slid to where she was walking down the stairs, hands holding up two coffees.
She handed one to you when she reached the basement floor. You took it gladly with the hand that was previously on your hip, shrugging your shoulders. “I was almost done.”
Both Sooah and Miyoung looked at the piece.
“Clearly,” Sooah sarcastically said.
Your eyes also slid back to your piece. You took a step back, and clearly, you were far from done. You had been working on the middle portion all night, but you still had only a vague drawing for the rest of the canvas. You sighed, putting down your brush.
“I meant I’m almost done with what I wanted to finish,” you specified.
Sooah nodded her head, before plopping down on the couch in one corner. Miyoung glanced once at her, before resuming her attention on you.
“Why did it take two months for me to know Kim Namjoon came to your exhibit?” she asked, with the most innocent voice.
Your mouth fell open. “What? It was all over the news.”
“You know I don’t watch the news!” Miyoung exclaimed. “Sooah mentioned it while we were getting coffee.”
“I-“
“And why did you never tell me you dated that guy when you were younger?” Sooah interjected, not letting you finish your sentence.
“Mimi!” you burst, and you jumped towards Miyoung, fully in the hopes of tackling her to the ground.
“The art!” Miyoung screamed as she escaped you. “Be careful with your art!”
You stopped in your tracks, electing to glare at her instead. “Why did you tell her? I was fifteen!”
“Still counts,” Miyoung replied, the innocent act still on.
But you wouldn’t be fooled. “It clearly doesn’t.” You turned your head towards Sooah, who watched with a giddy smile from where she sat. “Right? Who cares about a teenage ex?”
She laughed. “Clearly, you, if you get so worked up about it, what, thirteen years later?”
You frowned, shaking your head. Instead of replying, you took a long sip of your coffee, hoping it would give you something to reply to that.
“I don’t care,” you said when the sip was swallowed, and you couldn’t really wait anymore.
Sooah nodded, getting up from her spot on the couch to head in front of the painting you had been working on. You watched her go, an eyebrow cocked inquisitively.
“Well then,” she said once she was standing there, with her back turned to you. She smacked her lips once, the only way you knew she was up to no good. “You won’t care if I tell you he asked to film something in the gallery, and I said yes.”
You loved your friends. You really did. But sometimes you hated them too. Like right now, as your brain immediately started planning their murder.
“What the fuck?”
Sooah finally turned towards you, acting as if she didn’t just announce the worst news of your life to you. “Yeah. The pay is going to be worth it, and it’s going to give a lot of worldwide visibility to your art. It really is worth it.”
“But Kim Namjoon?” you complained. “Couldn’t you have chosen… I don’t know, some cool indie artist?”
“He’s a cool artist,” Sooah stated, shrugging her shoulders.
You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “Is he really?”
“His music is good,” Miyoung cut in innocently.
Your head snapped towards her. “You listen to his music?”
“Yeah, the album he released in December is good.”
And that was how you found yourself sleep-deprived, listening to a music album made by your teenage ex, as your manager explained to you the deeds of the project Namjoon was going to film in the gallery. Even though Sooah was one of your closest friends, you couldn’t really say no when she asked you to do job things. You trusted her entirely on her choices, had always did, but today you regretted it just a little bit.
Luckily enough for her, your exhaustion won over your will to fire her – or worse, to murder her – and you headed home when you finished listening to the album, repeating time and time again to you didn’t think Namjoon’s music was good.
It had led to Miyoung innocently mentioning that your breakup had been ugly, and really you had to get out of there before you committed the irreparable. It was only a few hours later, after a well-deserved nap, that you realized something.
Kim Namjoon shooting a video in your gallery didn’t mean you had to be present, right?
*****
Kim Namjoon shooting a video in your gallery actually meant that you were going to have to be present.
You had been too tired, that day with Sooah. Had entirely not assimilated that the project he was filming was a series of short episodes where he met up with various local artists, presenting their craft to the world. He had chosen you for the painting episode, even though you were quite convinced there were way better artists out there that he could have chosen from. You didn’t really have a say in this – what Sooah wanted, Sooah got.
Still, you were given a reprieve – the date chosen for shooting was still in a week, and so you took to arranging your gallery the way you believed would work best. And though you were pretty sure it was ready, some late Thursday afternoon you found yourself moving around some paintings, deciding to change the location of the Ilsan piece that had been the vehicle of the shadow and light projection you had shown at your exhibit in November.
You watched as two employees moved the piece where you had asked them to, fists on your hips, when bells rang, indicating that someone had walked in. You didn’t dare look behind you, instead giving directions to the employees as one of them carefully climbed the two first steps of a stepladder to hang the painting where it needed to be.
You surveyed them until the painting was safely hung, almost forgetting that someone had walked in. You only remembered when you felt a heavy gaze on your profile, and a silhouette appeared. You glanced their way then, and almost let out a startled scream that would have clearly made the windows explode.
Kim Namjoon offered you a tight-lipped smile.
“Are you Maehwa?” he asked.
You put a hand over your chest, trying to keep your heart from going into arrest. “You can’t just sneak on people like this,” you grumbled.
Then, the weirdest thing happened. He started smiling, wide, flashing his insufferable dimples, and his eyes lit up from within.
“It really is you.”
You gulped. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” You wanted to scold yourself for saying that, as if you wouldn’t know who Kim Namjoon was, even if he wasn’t your ex from so many years ago.
“Y/n, don’t play this game with me,” Namjoon said, teasingly. “I was pretty sure it was you in November, and now I have the proof.”
You scoffed. “What do you want?”
This time, his smile only allowed one dimple to appear, and you hated it even more. “Your manager told me that I could come over today to prepare for shooting. She said you were setting up the gallery.”
You would really need to fire Na Sooah, wouldn’t you?
You looked around, though it was pretty much ready. The filming crew was supposed to come at the beginning of next week to set up the spotlights and everything else they might need, as filming was only supposed to be Wednesday next week.
“Yeah,” you replied flatly. “What do you need to prepare?”
He tilted his head to the side. “We haven’t seen each other in years, and that’s how you speak to me? I remembered you to be a lot warmer.”
The nerves on this man…
“It’s been over ten years, I’ve changed.” You clenched your jaw once, before taking a deep, steadying breath. There were employees around, after all. “What do you need to prepare?”
He just smiled, mysteriously, before glancing around once. “Do you have an office somewhere around here?”
You looked up to the ceiling, rolling your eyes so far back you thought they were going to stick to the back of your head. “I have my studio downstairs,” you grumbled. “Follow me.”
He nodded, dimples flashing, and followed you as you made your way to the door through which you had escaped from him in November. Only this time, there was no escaping.
Namjoon’s heavy footsteps followed you down the stairs, and you braced yourself for the inevitable comments he was going to make about your studio. To your surprise, he remained silent, and you realized that he, too, had changed through the years.
No one remained quite like their fifteen-year-old self, didn’t they?
You moved towards the sitting area, vaguely motioning to an armchair. “Have a seat.”
You glanced over your shoulder, only to see Namjoon was looking at your current work-in-progress. It made you feel insecure, somehow, and you cleared your throat.
Namjoon’s gaze trailed to you. “Sorry.”
He walked towards you, and you felt small as he stopped right in front of you, still with that same infuriating, warm smile on his lips. “Your art has improved a lot through the years.”
You fled his gaze, motioning to the armchair again. “Do you want coffee? Or a tea?”
“Just water would be fine,” he replied, his smile falling for the first time since he had appeared in the gallery upstairs.
You nodded curtly, and as you headed towards the kitchen area of your studio, Namjoon got comfortable in the armchair. You brought back two glasses of water, mostly because you knew you were going to need something to hold to keep your nerves at bay. Namjoon accepted his with a slight bow of his head, and then you sat on the couch.
You exchanged a look, as you waited expectantly for him to say something. He remained silent, a pensive look on his features. It threw you off, as he had been the type to talk a lot back then.
“You’ve changed,” he stated out of the blue, and it made you cock an eyebrow.
“Obviously,” you drawled. “I would expect someone to change after thirteen years.”
Those stupid dimples appeared for half a heartbeat. “Yet you haven’t changed at all.” At your obstinate silence, Namjoon specified, “You’re still just as petty as I remember you to be.”
Your eyes widened. “Are you here to insult me or to prepare for shooting your show?”
He chuckled, a deep sound that had you busying yourself with a sip of water. He mirrored you, before saying, “I don’t mean to insult you at all”.
Should you call him out for his bullshit? Back then you would have, but you had grown up. So you remained silent once more, waiting for him to continue.
“It’s just weird to see you again,” he said, and he motioned towards you with the hand holding the glass. “You look… good.”
Not at all what you were expecting. It made you gulp, and you hated that your cheeks were burning. “It is weird, right?”
He nodded once, eyes trailing away from you to look down at his glass. “I’m happy your dreams worked out.”
Now, the pang in your heart was unwelcome. Kim Namjoon shouldn’t have the power to make you feel like this, not after all the years.
“I worked hard,” you replied carefully. “As you have, I presume.”
At that, he chuckled, tilting his head to the side. “I sure have.”
Another awkward silence and you glanced at him as he took a sip of water.
“So, what did you want to prepare?” you asked once you couldn’t stand the silence anymore.
“Oh,” he let out. He sat back in the armchair, looking way too at ease with his thighs slightly spread. “I wanted to give you the list of questions that I’m going to ask so that way you can prepare in advance,” he told you, offering you another one of those disarming, dimple-flashing smiles.
You cocked an eyebrow. “You couldn’t have shared them by email?”
Another chuckle of his had you looking away, focusing on your project.
“I could have. But I wanted to see if my inkling was right at the same time,” he explained. “Before the day of shooting, that is.”
You sighed, before looking back at him. His eyes were already on you, and it made you gulp once more.
Namjoon had gotten really intimidating, after all these years.
“Well, now you know,” you said. “Was there anything else you needed?”
He seemed surprised at the dismissal in your tone. “Not… really.” He wet his lips, watching you carefully. “I just thought it’d be great to catch up.” His gaze moved to your surroundings, before settling back on you. “To get to know how you managed to get such a nice studio and all that. I haven’t heard about you since we broke up.”
“Because I wanted it to be this way,” you replied. “And why do you have to say it like you didn’t believe I’d make it?”
“Wait, no,” he quickly said. “That’s not what I meant.”
You couldn’t help the roll of your eyes. “Of course not.”
He laughed. “Really? After all these years, you’re still mad at me?”
“You did tell me you wanted to kill me,” you reminded him in a grumble.
He seemed surprised. He frowned, and his head once again tilted to the side. “Did I?”
“You don’t remember?”
At that, you were the one to be surprised. It had been such a pivotal piece of your existence, back then, that you expected it to be marked into his brain the same way that it was in yours.
He shrugged. “Not particularly. I got super busy with being a trainee, and I just… I guess I forgot.”
“Oh,” you let out. The silence that followed was heavy, awkward, and you hoped it was enough for Namjoon to get the cue and leave.
Maybe he was still just as dumb and clueless as he had been then, because he said, “I was intense, wasn’t I?”
You pursed your lips. “Yeah.”
You held his eyes for a few seconds until your gaze dropped to your glass. You hated how you couldn’t look at him anymore, but gosh, he looked a lot better than he did then, and you had already found him attractive all those years ago.
“I…” he trailed off, nibbling at his bottom lip. “I was wondering if I could have your phone number, to send you the list of questions.”
“Uh…” You scratched the back of your neck, shrugging your shoulders. “You can send it to my manager, she’ll have it sent to me.”
If he was disappointed, he didn’t let it show. “I guess I’ll see you next week, then?”
You nodded once, before clenching your jaw. Because why did some stupid part of you not want him to leave right away?
“Did you eat? I was about to order fried chicken.”
He looked almost startled by your invitation. “I… have eaten, actually,” he replied truthfully, never one to lie. “But if you want company while you eat, I can always stay.”
You shook your head. “Nah, all good. I was just asking to be polite.”
He didn’t call you out on your bullshit, instead offering you a tight-lipped smile. “Then I guess I’ll see you next week.”
You walked him back upstairs, teeth nibbling at the inside of your lip as you tried to ignore the weight of the awkwardness between you. He wished you a good day, flashing those dimples of his, and he left, without once looking back.
You watched him as he climbed in a company car, and your gaze dropped to the ground as the car drove away, quickly disappearing from view.
What the hell had just happened?
*****
Namjoon’s list of questions was good. Mostly, it was centered around what you used as an inspiration, which other artists did you look up to, and what kind of music you listened to while practicing your art, if you listened to any at all. There was also stuff about where you grew up, and how it might have affected your art.
Nothing too personal, yet the fact that the questions were from Namjoon felt incredibly personal, and your hands were clammy, heart beating out of your chest, by the time the day of shooting came. It didn’t help that there was some problem with the cameras, which was only solved a few hours after the shooting was first supposed to start.
This meant you spent the most awkward, long hours of your life in Namjoon’s company, barely even talking because, frankly, you had nothing to tell him. He seemed fine with the silence, or maybe he just sucked at small talk just as much as you, and he didn’t say anything, just sat there scrolling on his phone until the director came to get the two of you.
And when filming started, Namjoon started asking you his questions, and you tried not to be a blushing mess as you answered. Tried and succeeded, you liked to tell yourself, because you were used to being interviewed.
The fact that you were starting to be renowned in Seoul’s painting scene helped, clearly, because you made it through the introduction and first few questions without stuttering.
They were the easiest ones, after all.
“At what age did you start painting?” Namjoon asked as you sat on the little balcony outside of your gallery, looking over the Han River.
Your breath turned into a cloud as you exhaled, and you followed it with your eyes as it moved up towards the sky. “I started when I was seven. But at first, I only drew, and then started painting when I tried it for the first time in middle school and fell in love with the craft.”
Namjoon was there that day. Had ruined your painting when he had fallen next to it, feet getting tangled in the pots of paint. You had been furious, but you had also been two laughing messes by the time class had finished.
You had started dating half a year later, making the decision right outside of the art class, where it had all begun if you were honest.
“What do you like so much about painting?”
You met his gaze, not really knowing how to answer that question. You had been searching for what to reply for hours the day before, and all you had been able to come up with was, “It allows me to create, to evacuate emotions and to make something that is worth looking back at.”
You weren’t sure it was the answer he was looking for, but you still said it. He offered you a secretive smile, as if it made all the sense in the world to him.
You hoped the camera didn’t catch your eyes flicking to his lips, before getting stuck in the dimple on his cheek.
“I think that’s understandable,” he replied truthfully. “Creating music feels a little like that, at least for me.”
You pursed your lips, not really knowing what you could say to add to the conversation. Namjoon took it in stride, following with his next question.
And it went like that for the whole interview. At some point, you moved inside, with the aim of talking about certain art pieces of your choosing. Namjoon asked questions about your latest exposition, about what it was like compared to your first one, and frankly, you didn’t see the time go until the director cut the tape for the last time, telling Namjoon that it was closing time.
To your surprise, Namjoon had one last question for you.
“As we bring this interview to an end,” Namjoon said, eyes finding yours, “I have one last question for our artist.” He waited a few seconds, as if to give emphasis to his words, before adding, “Why did you choose the name Maehwa?”
You stared at him, he stared at you. You were pretty sure he could read the answer in your eyes, and you were pretty sure you didn’t want to say it out loud. It felt awkward, and this time you doubted the makeup they had put on your skin before filming could hide the blush on your cheeks.
“Uh,” you let out, coughing a little. “When I was younger, a friend of mine used to call me that. I liked the nickname, and I guess it stuck around?”
‘A friend of mine translated’ to him, to Namjoon, and you hoped he couldn’t tell just how much you were spiraling, like a leaf caught in the whirlpool of a leaking sink. Because you were caught in the current, feeling like you were stupid, to have held onto a stupid nickname that meant nothing, that never should have meant anything.
“It’s a pretty name,” Namjoon reflected.
His eyes were heavy on you because, of course, he knew that it was him. Of course, he remembered the days of youth where you had learned about love, by his side.
He had been there after all.
“Thank you,” you replied, a little breathlessly.
After that, Namjoon closed the interview, and when the cameras turned off, you let out a long, wavering sigh. It made him chuckle, as people buzzed around you to put everything away.
“Everything okay?”
You offered him a no-bullshit look. “You didn’t tell me about that last question.”
It sounded accusing, and frankly, you were accusing him. He recoiled, just a little, losing the small smile that was gracing his lips.
“I honestly thought it up during the interview,” he admitted. “I should have warned you.”
You clenched your jaw for a few seconds, before releasing yet another sigh. “It’s whatever. Why did you even want to know that?”
“Because I gave you that nickname…” he said, looking suddenly ashamed.
As if he was a child getting scolded for making a mistake. You didn’t like that look on him, even though he entirely deserved it, so you softened your expression before saying, “You did.”
He held your gaze, and the space between you filled with memories, with his laughter and the rain that early June night when you had kissed for the first time. It made you long for the warmth of his honey-toned skin, taking you by surprise.
Yes, you had once loved Kim Namjoon, but that had been thirteen years ago, when you were too young to actually know what love was.
“Do you…” you started, not knowing where you were headed.
Yet it was like he knew. “Do you want to get dinner with me sometime this week?” he asked, finishing your sentence.
You smiled, looking down as if that would hide the blush on your cheeks. “Only if you take me somewhere nice.”
“You deserve the best,” he said, nodding once. “I know just the place.”
You met his gaze again, and the smile grew like flowers under the sun. “Then yes, I’d like to grab dinner with you.”
At that, he offered you an award-winning smile, with the infuriating dimples creating indents in his cheeks. “For a moment, I was convinced you were going to refuse.”
The blush on your cheeks deepened as you asked, “Why?”
“You haven’t been…” he trailed off, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention to the both of you, but most people were busy putting away the lights and mics from the set. “You haven’t been very warm,” he finished as his eyes settled back on you.
You nibbled at your lower lip, nodding curtly. “Right.” You held his gaze for a few seconds, and then you found you were too much of a coward, fleeing his dragon eyes to look at the tiles of the floor instead. “We didn’t part on exactly good terms, you know?”
“Yeah.” He took a step towards you, extending his hand in front of him as if expecting you to shake it. When he added, “I’m Kim Namjoon, it’s nice to meet you”, you understood that he was, in fact, waiting for you to shake it.
“What are you doing?” you asked, ignoring the hand.
He stubbornly kept it there. “Pretending that this is my first time meeting you,” he explained, even though it made little to no sense. When he saw the confused look on your face, he clarified, “So that way, we can pretend that the past never happened, and we can start again on better grounds.”
It made you giggle, a shy little sound that had you finally cave in, your small hand closing around his large one. “I already agreed to grab dinner with you, but…” you trailed off, finally meeting his gaze again. “Nice to meet you, Kim Namjoon. I’m Y/n.”
He held your hand for a second longer than necessary, before letting it go. Your fingers twitched as if wishing he had held on longer, and you hid it by hiding your arm behind your back.
“You come here often?” he asked, adding your name at the end. “I’ve never seen you around.”
You cocked an eyebrow, and you both burst out laughing at the same time.
“You’re bad at this,” you teased him. “We’re in my studio, of course, I come here often.”
He nodded. “Ah, I apologize. It’s my first time around, after all.”
You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him in the shoulder. It just made him laugh again, and there was something so familiar, so warm in his laugh that you turned wistful. He immediately noticed the shift in you, and his smile slowly died down to be replaced by a serious look.
“I’m serious,” he told you. “It’d be great to start on new grounds.”
“I know. I fully agree,” you said. “It’s just… who would have thought I’d accept to grab dinner with the first boy that broke my heart.”
He didn’t reply. Just turned a little apologetic, though you reckoned you had broken his heart too. You both had been young and dumb, there was no way to deny it. And it was strange indeed, that thirteen years later, you had met again. Both of you having changed, having grown until you weren’t sure you really recognized him.
Except for the dimples. The dimples were the same, a never-changing feature that you didn't doubt had stolen the heart of a million of his fans. It had stolen your heart back then after all.
“So,” he said after his manager told him that they were ready to leave, breaking the bubble of the little dimension you both had fallen in. “This time, I assume you’ll allow me to write down your number?”
You snorted, holding out your hand between the two of you, a little like he had done earlier though you were waiting for him to give you his phone. “Sure, I’ll put it in your phone.”
He pouted, looking like the child you had known all those years ago. “I lost my phone.”
“What?”
He repeated sheepishly. “I think I left it in the company car that dropped me off here.”
That was such a Namjoon thing to do you found your heart growing warm once again. “Okay then, I’ll write my number on a paper, and you text me when you find your phone. That works?”
The bright smile returned, and he nodded his head. “That works for me.”
You held his gaze for a few more seconds, before moving away to go get paper in your studio downstairs. When you came back up, he was still waiting, though this time his manager was next to him, looking somehow a little pressed. You felt bad, assuming that he was upset because you were making him wait, so you jogged to Namjoon.
“There you go,” you said, handing him over the paper. Your eyes glided to the manager, before returning to Namjoon. “Text me when you can.”
“I will,” he said.
It sounded like a promise, just as much as it sounded like a beginning.
*****
“You are shitting me,” Miyoung said, eyes wide like flying saucers.
Cheeks burning, you avoided her insistent gaze. “No…”
“You’re grabbing dinner with Kim Namjoon?” she repeated, and the words sounded so foreign in her mouth that you winced a little.
“Huh,” you let out. “Yeah, seems like I am.”
She shook her head in disbelief, before chuckling lightly. “I can’t believe him. You’re supposed to hate him. You didn’t even want to listen to his music, and now you’re going out with him?” She paused to laugh again. “Sooah won’t believe this.”
“Come on,” you whined. “It’s nothing.”
“Shut up,” Miyoung said as she grabbed her phone. “I’m texting Sooah right now to let her know.”
You tried to steal your friend’s phone from her hands, but she darted away, out of your reach, long enough for the message to be sent. You were pretty sure your cheeks had gone purple now, and all you could do was fold your arms on your chest as you glared at Miyoung.
“It’s just dinner,” you pointed out. “Nothing to freak out about.”
Miyoung narrowed her gaze, eyeing you suspiciously. “Why are you even grabbing dinner with him? What are you hoping to achieve?” Her gaze widened before you could even speak. “Are you only going because he’s RM of BTS?”
You rolled your eyes, looking at the ceiling of your studio. Miyoung had come over when you had texted her about the dinner earlier, claiming that she needed to see for herself if you were just playing with her.
“No?” you said. “I don’t care that he’s RM. I accepted the offer because… I don’t know, at the end of the day, he’s a childhood friend.”
“A childhood friend? He was your first everything.”
Touché. Today, you felt weird whenever you remembered that he had taken your virginity, when you both were so young you shouldn’t even have been thinking about that. You had regretted it for years after – mostly because you had started hating him so bad, but also just because you had been so young. It felt wrong somehow.
“Whatever,” you mumbled. “I only told you because I don’t know how to date. I never really go on dates.”
She laughed, hiding her mouth behind her hand. “Oh my God, it is a date, right?”
You felt yourself flush red, furiously, and your gaze fell to the floor. “I mean, I think so? Don’t you?”
“I thought it was just dinner with a childhood friend,” she mused, hands going behind her back as she rocked on her feet. She was teasing you, and you glared at her. “Alright, alright,” she let out after a few seconds of holding your gaze with a shit-eating smirk on her lips. “First, we’ll need to figure out what you need to wear.”
You nodded, nibbling at your lips. “He mentioned dinner at a restaurant.”
He had. Namjoon had texted you the night after the shoot, claiming that he had indeed forgotten his phone in the car. He had also sent you the link to a famous restaurant in Gangnam, one that you were pretty sure was way over your budget even though you were relatively well-off financially. He had told you he knew the owner, and that the restaurant had private rooms where you could eat without fearing for fans or paparazzi seeing you.
“So then you want to dress nicely,” Miyoung said, nodding once. “A nice pair of dress pants with a cute blouse would do. Or maybe that long black skirt you have that ends right over the knee? You could pair it with…”
“Y/n!” Sooah yelled from the top of the stairs, startling both you and Miyoung. “How dare you not tell me you’re getting dinner with a celebrity?”
Your gaze widened in fear as you watched your manager walking down the stairs, purpose filling her every move.
You were pretty sure the purpose was to murder you.
She pointed a finger at you in affront, her cheeks a little red from the anger. “This is manager business. You can’t just decide…”
“Cut it,” Miyoung interrupted. “You literally bet with me last week that it would happen.”
Sooah dropped the act, face cutting into a bright smile. “I sure did, and I won.” She held out a hand towards Miyoung, who begrudgingly took ten thousand won out of her wallet to put it in Miyoung’s hand. “Thank you,” your manager said. “Now, what’s the plan?”
“They’re getting dinner at a restaurant,” Miyoung declared before you could speak. “What’s the name again?”
You didn’t remember, so you grabbed your phone to look at your text conversation with Namjoon. “Huh…” you trailed off, scrolling up to when he had sent the menu. “Seasons of Seoul.”
Sooah’s mouth fell open. “The Seasons of Seoul? That’s one fancy-ass restaurant.”
You startled at the sound of the curse in Sooah’s voice, before bursting out laughing in time with your friends. “It is,” you said, voice lilting into a whine. “It’s definitely above my budget.”
“Namjoon seems like a gentleman,” Miyoung pointed out “I’m pretty sure he’ll pay.”
“For sure,” Sooah agreed. “When’s the date?”
You blushed, shrugging your shoulders. “We haven’t decided on a day yet.”
“Just tell me when and I’ll clear your schedule,” Sooah said. “I don’t care about any interviews when you can be going on a date with Kim Namjoon.”
You rolled your eyes, though a playful smiled teased the corners of your mouth. “You’ll be the first to know.”
“Yah, I believe I should be the first to know since I was helping you plan what to wear!” Miyoung interjected, which led to your two friends bickering, and then to them helping you out with what to wear. It was a little hard since you weren’t at home and couldn’t rummage through your walk-in closet. Since it was already running late, Sooah suggested heading over to yours, and that was how you found yourself sitting cross-legged on the floor of your living room, back against the couch, as you ate fried chicken and drank soju with your friends.
You were definitely a little buzzed by the time you finished eating, washing your hands at the kitchen sink before you aimed for your closet, where you started pulling out outfit after outfit.
You said no to all of your friends’ suggestions, mostly because it didn’t feel right. Sooah, growing annoyed, suggested to go shopping on the morrow, which made Miyoung jump in excitement, which in turn scared your cat Gabi away.
“Yes, please, please, please!” Miyoung exclaimed. “We haven’t gone in forever. It’ll be like when we were in college procrastinating studying.”
You laughed, brain swimming with alcohol. “As long as you don’t bring me to those fancy stores,” you said. “I hate when people talk to me while I’m shopping for clothes.”
Both your friends threw you no-bullshit looks.
“Come on,” Sooah let out. “Maybe we can even get you another nice outfit for the launch of your next exhibit.”
“I’ve barely even started working on it, it’s not going to be for another full year, at least,” you pointed out. “No need to shop for an outfit now.”
“Pleaseeee,” Miyoung begged. “It’s going to be fun. We can even go to that Samoyed café you like so much.”
The perspective of seeing the Samoyed puppies suddenly made a shopping trip all the more interesting. “Mmh,” you hummed. “I’ll consider it.”
“Bitch!” Miyoung burst, punching you in the shoulder hard enough to hurt. “We’re going tomorrow, just accept your destiny.”
You rolled your eyes as you massaged the spot she had hit, before finally nodding. “Alright, we’ll go. As long as you don’t make me spend my entire paycheck on clothes.”
“Your entire paycheck is like five times what I make so, shut it,” Miyoung pointed out.
“You did sell a piece for over 50 million won last week,” Sooah reminded you.
They had allied against you, hadn’t they?
“Right,” you let out.
“So you have nothing to say for your defense,” Miyoung said sternly, fists resting on her hips in mock authority. “We’re going tomorrow, and you’re coming with us. And,” she added, nodding forcefully, “And you will enjoy yourself.”
You laughed at how dumb she looked. “I’ll try. But I can’t guarantee anything.”
To your surprise, you actually enjoyed yourself the next day. Miyoung and Sooah were great company, had always been, and it really had been a long time since you had spent time together like this. The whole day was spent laughing and gossiping and just enjoying yourselves, and you did end up buying a lot more outfits than you probably needed. Which would be a problem when it came to what to choose for the date, but you didn’t really care.
It was late in the afternoon when your phone buzzed on the table of the Samoyed café, and you picked it up as Miyoung cooed at the fluffy dog she was playing with.
It was Namjoon, asking you if you would be willing to go out with him this Friday.
“Oh my God,” you let out, and you felt your cheeks burning as your outburst had attracted the attention of other clients of the café. “He texted me,” you whispered then for only your friends to hear.
Sooah yelped, clapping her hands. She looked so far from the fierce manager you knew her to be you burst out laughing, slightly shaking your head.
“What did he say?” she asked.
You didn’t answer for a time, letting suspense hang in the air between you and your friends. When Miyoung got up, clearly aiming to grab your phone out of your hands and read the text herself, you finally spoke. “Looks like you’re going to have to clear my schedule this Friday night.”
Sooah shrieked as Miyoung grinned wildly.
“Consider it done!”
*****
You were anxious. Had been anxious all week, and it had shown up in the painting you were working on. It had turned into a hectic mess of colours, inching closer to a dark cloud than to anything else. It represented your mental state well, even though you tried to keep reminding yourself that it was just Namjoon. If there was such a thing as just Namjoon.
Gosh.
You sighed, looking at yourself in your standing mirror. You were wearing one of the designer outfits you had bought earlier this week, and the skirt hugged your frame well, enhancing your curves. You had curves, you were aware of it, but you weren’t sure they were supposed to look this good. Paired with the white blouse and black blazer, you looked like you were going on a date with a CEO, and not Kim Namjoon.
Though, nowadays it felt almost as if one was a synonym for the other.
You liked the fit, you really did, you were just afraid Namjoon would think you were overdoing yourself. But somehow, you felt really comfortable, ready to conquer the world if need be. Maybe just not Kim Namjoon.
But it was too late to back out of the date. Indeed, the doorbell rang, indicating that he was here, and you met your gaze in the mirror one last time before going to open the door.
Namjoon looked … incredible. With a pair of dark dress pants along with a pale cardigan over a yellow polo. Over that, he was wearing a long coat that looked way too expensive, yet still fit the look. It was more of an artist look than yours, and yet it suited him perfectly.
He was an artist, too, after all.
Most of all, he was holding a bouquet of pale flowers – rose and white and lilac – and he handed it to you as he took in the sight of you.
“You’re beautiful,” he complimented, and he flashed you a corner smile that had just one of his dimples appear.
Your cheeks burned as you nodded once. “You as well,” you said, grabbing the flowers. You hesitantly inhaled them, satisfied with the sweet floral scent that took over your nostrils. You glanced over your shoulder, before opening the door wider for him to come in. “You can come in, I’ll just go put these in water.”
He nodded, stepping in as you retreated into your home, searching for an appropriate vase for the bouquet. Once it was safely tucked in a vase with room temperature water, you moved back to where Namjoon was still waiting, right next to the door. You smiled, a little awkwardly, before putting on the high heels you had chosen for the date.
Namjoon patiently waited for you, and once you straightened, you put on your winter coat, grabbing your purse where you had left it on the table near the door.
“Ready?” Namjoon asked when your gaze finally met his.
You nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yes. Let’s go.”
He smiled his dimple smile, and he opened the door for you. You walked outside, waiting until he had shut it behind him so you could lock it. The cold air hit you right in the face, and you hid your face in the flaps of your coat. To your luck, Namjoon had picked you up in a company car, considering he didn’t drive, and you climbed in first, quickly followed by him.
You sighed at the warmth in the car, and watched as Namjoon leaned forward to tell the driver the address, before sitting back comfortably next to you.
Conversation was somehow awkward at first, mostly because you struggled holding Namjoon’s gaze. In all truth, you reckoned the awkwardness stuck around until you got to the restaurant, and even still as you were led to the private room Namjoon had rented for you both.
He helped you out of your coat, ever so the gentleman, hanging it before taking off his own and putting it beside yours. You just stood for a time, not knowing what to do as you took in the elegance of the restaurant and the dim, private atmosphere that reigned.
You felt like you had stepped right into a palace and, frankly, you weren’t sure you belonged in such a place.
“Sit!” Namjoon quickly said as he noticed you were still standing. And then he rushed to pull the chair for you, making you chuckle embarrassingly.
“You don’t…” you trailed off as you caught a whiff of his cologne.
A dark, masculine smell that made your head a little dizzy. You couldn’t tell why you hadn’t smelled it before – maybe it was because of the coat. All that you knew was that the oaky smell wrapped around you comfortably, refusing to let you go.
“What?” he asked as he sat in front of you, offering you an encouraging smile.
You took a deep breath, chest moving up and down as you tried to regain your composure. When you felt like you could speak without embarrassing yourself further, you said, “Since when are you such a gentleman?”
That made him laugh, full of dimples again, and he slightly shook his head. “Wasn’t I a gentleman when we were dating all those years ago?”
Not at all. He had been an awkward teenager, and you both knew it. As such, you cocked an eyebrow, a teasing smile growing on your lips.
“Were you?”
He winced, chuckling again. “Not at all. But I grew out of it.”
He sure had. He barely held any resemblance to the boy you had once known, except for those damned dimples that were making it hard for you to focus. And now the cologne? You were done for.
“Bangtan changed you, didn’t it?”
He nodded pensively. “I think that, having to be the leader of all these kids? Yeah, it really made me mature faster than I thought possible.”
You furrowed your brows in question. “I don’t know a lot about Bangtan but… isn’t Seokjin older than you?”
Before he could answer, a pretty waitress walked in, pulling a cart with different wine bottles on it. She greeted you two, stopping next to the table before asking you what you wanted to drink. You glanced at Namjoon, who offered you an encouraging smile, as if saying, ‘I’ll have whatever you have’.
“This Cabernet is actually my favourite. So we’ll take this one, please,” you asked, and the waitress offered you a bright smile as she picked up the bottle.
You watched as she put it on the table, eyes trailing to Namjoon longingly. A fan – she was clearly a fan. Namjoon offered her a professional, practiced smile, and she flushed red as she grabbed a wine opener to uncork the bottle. She carefully opened it, before pouring you two a glass.
It was awkward, somehow. And it was only then that you noticed there was jazz music playing in the background. It felt odd that you hadn’t noticed it before – had the beats of your heart been too loud for you to hear it?
When the waitress finally left, offering Namjoon one last look over her shoulder, you cocked an eyebrow, trying not to laugh.
“What?” he asked.
“Does this happen often?”
He chuckled, fingers playing with his glass as he evaded your gaze. “More than you can imagine.” He met your gaze then, and you watched his features as they softened. “But you don’t have to worry about us being here getting out in the media. The owner of the restaurant is an old friend, and she assured that all of her staff can be trusted.”
It hadn’t even crossed your mind, but you weren’t surprised that he had thought of it.
“That’s more of a relief for you than it is for me,” you pointed out.
He nodded, a warm smile on his lips. “You have a reputation too! You’re an artist, just like me.”
That made you snort as you shook your head, eyes falling to your untouched glass of wine. “I don’t think I am in the same category as you, Kim Namjoon. I’m just a painter.”
“You’re much more than just a painter, Maehwa.”
Your throat went dry at the way he said the words, as if they held so much meaning they were heavier than the world. And you wouldn’t be surprised if they did – Kim Namjoon had always been a poet, after all.
“I’m not a member of the most popular K-pop band in the world, though,” you reminded him, and dimples answered you as he humbly smiled.
“Evidently not.”
A comfortable silence moved between you – the first of the evening, you reckoned – and your eyes once more fell to your wine glass. You picked up, spinning the wine to bring out the aromas of it.
“Want to taste?” you asked him, motioning to his own glass.
He picked it up, nodding his head. “Please. I’m surprised to know you have a favourite wine.”
“Trust me, it’s worth it.”
He chuckled, and you clinked your glasses together before taking a sip. You let the rich taste roll on your tongue, appreciating every milliliter of it until you swallowed, and even the aftertaste was good.
A really good wine, indeed. Way too expensive, in your opinion, but you had always liked expensive things. As your designer clothes could tell, and as your date across the table could tell, too.
Not that you were a snobby artist – you were far from it. But you had learned how to appreciate the good things in life long ago when you had first discovered art.
“I like it,” Namjoon commented as he put down the glass. “Nice choice.”
You smiled, relieved that he indeed liked your choice.
As wine flowed between the two of you, you found conversation with Kim Namjoon was a lot easier than you had initially expected. He put you at ease, like he did when you were younger. Together, you reminisced about middle school and high school, about that time he had spilled hot chocolate on his uniform and you had helped him clean up, which had brought you guys closer.
Until he had kissed you as you were doodling maehwas on his arm, and the rest was history.
“No, but,” he insisted, his cheeks turning a pale shade of pink as he closed his eyes in embarrassment. His dimples winked at you, and you looked at him as he collected his thoughts. “To be fair, I never planned to break it. It wasn’t even my fault.”
You cocked an eyebrow. “You were the one holding it,” you reminded him.
You were referencing a fragile plate your mom had offered Namjoon, from her collection of nice plates she usually only displayed during fancy events. Namjoon had broken it a whole hour after he had been gifted it, and to this day, you still couldn’t understand how he had broken it.
“You tickled me!” he burst out, narrowing his eyes at you. “It was entirely your fault.”
You playfully rolled your eyes, before chuckling lightly. “I barely even touched you.”
He glared at you, though it didn’t last, melting into a soft smile that had you looking down at the table.
Right at the same time, a lean girl walked in, clad in a chef’s outfit, holding up the food you and Namjoon had ordered earlier. She offered you a polite smile, and it turned nostalgic as she looked towards Namjoon.
Namjoon said her name, before turning to look at you. “This is the friend I told you about.”
She was beautiful, in an easy, elegant kind of way. Her shoulder-length hair swayed nicely when she walked, and you had half a thought that she probably should be wearing something to make sure no hair could get in the food. Then you figured she probably had taken it off to come here, and you only realized that she had spoken to you when both she and Namjoon settled their gaze on you.
“Nice to meet you too,” you replied, because you were 75% convinced that that was what she had said.
You were relieved when she smiled knowingly, eyes trailing back to Namjoon. They talked a little more, and it took you a moment before you understood that she was one of Namjoon’s friends’ ex. They continued speaking after that, as you listened politely, nodding whenever she looked your way to encourage her to continue.
She looked sad. Nostalgic. Whoever her ex was, you had the intuition that she still loved him.
“Have a good evening,” she told the two of you about a minute later, bowing.
You bowed your head back, as Namjoon wished her good evening, and then you watched her walk out of the room, hair prettily moving around her head.
“She’s Seokjin’s ex,” Namjoon let out pensively once she was out of earshot.
Your eyes widened, and you looked back towards him. “Your bandmate?”
He nodded. “They broke up a few years ago, during the pandemic,” he explained. “They were engaged.”
You weren’t sure Namjoon was supposed to tell you any of that. It sounded personal, and he seemed to get the cue as you remained silent, eyes falling to the steaming plate in front of you.
“Anyway,” he said, chuckling awkwardly. “Shall we eat?”
“Yes,” you immediately replied, a little too quickly.
It had both of you laugh, and the awkwardness lifted to be replaced by that same familiarity the evening had held until Seokjin’s ex had come in. It had you fall back in your nostalgic memories, as you ate the delicious food on your plate.
When you were done eating, Namjoon suggested dessert, and not really wanting the evening to end yet, you accepted. It led to you both drinking a little more, your inhibitions slurring as alcohol rushed through your bloodstream, making you feel young and alive.
The feeling lingered with your lively chatter, with the exchanged laughs and long looks. Sometimes, Namjoon’s eyes burned on you, and you found you were too afraid to hold his gaze, too afraid to let it mean anything. Whenever it happened, you looked down at your glass, and the tenth time that it happened, you found the glass to be empty.
No salvation for you there. Especially considering that dessert was eaten and long gone, and all that had been left was the bottle of wine.
“So,” Namjoon said as he, too, took in the sight of the empty glasses and bottle. “I…” He chuckled, ears turning pink as his dimples flashed on his cheeks. “Thank you for tonight.”
You couldn’t help your own blush as you replied, “I’m glad I said yes.”
He met your gaze, eyes darting to your lips once. When they settled back on your own gaze, you swallowed a sudden lump in your throat.
“We should…” he started, falling silent as he scraped his throat. “We should do this again.”
The lump dissolved into nothingness as you smiled, softly. “I would love to.”
“What about on Sunday? There’s this exhibit I’ve been meaning to visit, thought you might want to join?”
“You want to bring an artist to another artist’s exhibit?”
He seemed surprised at your question, as if it hadn’t even crossed his mind. And truth be told, you liked visiting your fellow artists. There was just something about a shared passion that made you feel calm, understood. As if, no matter the sorrows your life could hold, there would always be someone out there who understood. Someone who could share the burden, who’d offer you a helping hand in the form of art whenever you needed it.
So you quickly added, before Namjoon could say anything, “I’m kidding, yes, I’d love to accompany you.”
He looked so relieved something warm blossomed in your chest, and your cheeks burned.
“Well then,” he said, smiling that dimpled smile. “I should get you home, it’s getting late.”
The perspective of the date ending made your heart squeeze in your chest, for a reason you couldn’t quite understand. “Right,” you agreed.
It was all you said before you both got up, moving to retrieve your coats by the door. After that, you walked towards the outside world, and when Namjoon’s hand accidentally grazed yours – or perhaps it was on purpose – you hooked a finger around his pinky.
Looking up to him, you caught him looking down at you already. From so close, he towered over you, though there was nothing threatening with his height. It felt comforting, safe, as if you were under his protection.
By the warmth in his eyes, you knew you truly were.
You waited in the lobby for the car to come pick you up, Namjoon with his back turned to the people. Though no one looked your way, no one acknowledged your presence, and for a second, you wondered if you really were with a worldwide famous singer or if Namjoon was just a normal person.
Someone like you, someone who could revel in anonymity wherever he went.
“The car is here,” Namjoon told you as you were looking behind him, observing the patrons slowly exiting, laughing about a joke only they knew.
You smiled up at him, before letting him grab your hand properly this time as he led you outside. His large palm engulfed your small one, warmed it up, and your fingers were tingling by the time you reached the car door that Namjoon opened for you.
He really wasn’t a gentleman when you were younger. There was something oddly relieving to see him act in such a way now, showing you that he had grown since you were sixteen and too dumb to actually know what love was.
You settled in the car, reveling in the warm vehicle as Namjoon sat in the seat right next to you. And when the car jostled forward, you became all too aware of the place where Namjoon’s thigh rested against yours, and of where his arm pressed against yours.
You turned your head to look at him, admiring the soft glow on his features induced by the neon lights outside. He met your gaze, offered you a smile, and you felt yourself leaning forward. As if there was a pull between you, something that was inevitable. You had never been good at resisting, so you let yourself be pulled, let yourself find him.
He met you halfway, lips infinitely and surprisingly soft even with the cold January night out there. He sighed against you, shifting slightly so he could angle his head better, deepening the kiss.
And kiss you he did, with memories and yearning and nostalgia that had you part your lips when his tongue swiped at your bottom lip, only to meet it with yours. You remembered days of early art, of words whispered in the dead of night when nothing seemed like it could bring you apart, when you believed it was you and him against the rest of the world.
Your breakup flashed in your thoughts as he rested a hand on your thigh, carefully, but you pushed it away, refusing to let the memory stain this moment with him.
As much as the kiss was unexpected, bubbling out of neon lights on Namjoon’s soft features, it was also expected. As if fifteen-year-old you had expected to find him again, somewhere, even though you had fled to an entire other high school.
As if the story had just been put on hold then, to resume once the time was right. And as much as you usually were wary in your relationships, tonight felt right. It felt right in all the ways that mattered, in his arm on your thigh and the soft smile he offered you when he pulled away, reminding you that you weren’t alone in the car.
You chuckled, blushing deeply, and your hand landed on top of his on your thigh.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, and he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.
You leaned into his touch, sighing dreamily. “I don’t know if it’s the wine,” you said, low enough to make sure only his ears could perceive your words, “but I really want to kiss you more.”
That made him laugh, and his hand fell away from your cheek. “Not here,” he said, head motioning to the driver. “You’ll have to wait until Sunday.”
You pursed your lips, thought about it for half a second before you said, “Do you want to sleep over tonight?”
His grip on your thigh slightly tightened, the only indication that your words had had an effect on him. “You’d like that?”
You parted your lips, tongue darting to wet them. “Yes.”
It was no wonder Namjoon ended up pinning you against your closed door as soon as you walked in, locking you between his strong arms as his lips ravished a hungry kiss on your mouth. You grabbed at the lapels of his coat, trying to pull him closer, right as he slipped one of his large hands to arch your back, pressing your front against him.
The second he left your lips to press open-mouthed kisses on your jaw, you fought against his coat to rid him of the clothing. He sucked on your jaw as he helped you, and soon enough, the coat was abandoned on the floor, right as he pulled you in.
You kicked off your shoes, lips meeting again in a kiss that had your head spin, right as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He groaned when you bit on his bottom lip, and then picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He put you down on the decorative table near the door, and in an attempt to rid him of his shirt, you pushed a vase.
The sound that it made when it shattered on the floor startled both of you, and Namjoon looked down, eyes wide.
“Oh no,” he let out.
You caught his startled gaze, breathing raggedly. “Don’t worry, it was just a cheap vase.”
He looked down at the mess, nodding once. “I’ll buy you another one.”
And then he was finding your mouth again, sucking on your lower lip as he started to fight against your coat, trying to get you out of it. He shortly had to pull away, brows knitting together in concentration because, as much as he tried, the zipper of your coat wasn’t budging.
“Hold on,” you said, putting your hands above his.
Much gentler than him, you managed to unzip the coat, and he helped you slip out of it, throwing it towards his. His eyes dropped to your thighs, where your skirt had ridden up to reveal more skin, though you were wearing pantyhose. He ran his hand along your thighs, head hanging low. You watched him do so, watched his jet-black hair falling in his eyes until you couldn’t resist anymore, reaching between you to push it back.
The strands fell right back in front of his eyes, but it attracted his gaze. He looked at you through his hair, dragon eyes burning a hole through you, and you grabbed his cheeks to pull him into yet another heated kiss.
“Fuck,” he muttered against your lips, and he subconsciously grinded against you, though the skirt and the fabric of his own pants kept you from feeling anything.
“You think we can make it to my room,” you whispered as he moved to your neck, kissing a hot kiss just below your ear.
“You’ll have to show me the way.”
You chuckled, gently pushing on his chest until he finally disconnected from your neck and took a step back. It allowed you to plop down from the table on which he had sat you, and you grabbed his hand, right as he dipped his head to kiss you again.
You kissed him back, moaning softly when his large hand cupped your ass, grabbing at the meat hard but not enough to hurt. It had even more heat pool at your core, liquid lava that was slowly making you unravel, and you needed more.
You pulled away from the kiss begrudgingly, mostly because you wanted to stay here, to be consumed with the passion Namjoon’s lips were carving against you.
You had to make it to your room before you went insane. So you pulled him behind you, not once looking back, or else you wouldn’t get there at all. Luckily enough, you held on strong, but the moment you crossed the threshold to your room, Namjoon pulled you against him, large hand resting on the base of your neck to keep you from moving away.
It took all of three seconds before your brain zeroed in on the spot where his hard dick was pressing against your back.
“Can you feel how much I want you?” he asked, voice low and husky, sending shivers all over your body.
You nodded, tilting your head to the side to give him access when he lowered his head. Too tall, he didn’t quite reach your neck, but his breath skimming over your skin made goosebumps erupt on you.
“I want you too,” you replied breathily.
You could hear a dangerous smirk in his voice when he said, “Take that skirt off”.
Something settled deep inside of you, making you into a puppet he could control. Stepping away from him, your hands went behind your back to unzip the skirt, and you let it fall to the floor. It pooled around your ankle, but when he stepped closer again, one hand squeezing the flesh of your ass, you found yourself unable to do anything.
“You should take off the pantyhose, too, before I rip them”, he added.
You didn’t doubt that Namjoon often miscalculated his strength. Even when he was just a gangly teenager, he already struggled with clumsiness. So you pulled the pantyhose down your legs, and you stepped out of the pile of clothing, waiting for him as he moved closer again.
This time, his hands slipped to your front, and he looked over your shoulder as he started undoing the buttons of your blouse, not even caring that you were still wearing the blazer. His breath skimmed on the side of your face as he did so, and your eyes fluttered closed as you focused on every brush of fabric against you while he worked his way down your blouse.
He pushed both the blouse and blazer off your shoulders when he was done, and they fell on the floor behind you. He didn’t seem to care as he wrapped his arm to your front, moving up until he grabbed your breasts through your bra, squeezing slightly.
“Get on the bed,” he commanded then, and still the good puppet you did, walking to the mattress and sitting down, eyes finally finding him again.
He didn’t say anything as he slowly undressed, pulling his cardigan off. It fell somewhere next to the pile of your clothing, and then he attacked the polo, taking it off in one swift motion that revealed the expanse of his wide chest.
His honey skin seemed to prettily gleam in the moonlight, where it was pulled taught over the big muscles of his chest. He looked sculpted in marble, big and buff, and you closed your thighs in reflex at the thought of his weight over you.
Needless to say, he didn’t look like that when he was a teenager at all. Adulthood looked good on him.
He unbuckled his belt next, taking his time as you just surveyed him. Even in the dim light from the full moon outside, you could see the bulge in his pants, and you salivated at the thought of wrapping your lips around him, of tasting him and making him feel good.
The belt fell with a thud to the ground, and your lips parted as he palmed himself, enhancing the size of his bulge. Your eyes widened slightly – he looked far bigger than you had initially thought he’d be, though you weren’t all that surprised with his large frame.
“Take off your bra,” he said next. “I want to see your breasts.”
You nodded, hands going to your back as you unclasped the bra. You slowly took it off, nipples perking when cold air hit them. You shivered once again as his eyes roamed over you, and even more so when he said, “Beautiful” as if you were a piece of art made for him to admire.
And with the way he was looking at you, you thought maybe, maybe you were.
He took a few steps towards you, and your eyes darted towards the lamp on your bedside table. Namjoon caught your motion, and he tutted lightly. “Not tonight,” he told you. “Tonight is about feeling, not about seeing.”
For some reason, you had expected him to be a lights-on kind of partner, but you weren’t mad about his will to stay in the dark. Because you knew all too well how much pleasure could course through your blood when your sense of sight was taken from you. As an artist, you relied on it far more than a lot of people – the loss of it made you weak, in a burning kind of way.
If you were honest, you enjoyed being blindfolded a lot, but you didn’t see yourself asking Namjoon to do it today. Lights off seemed the closest thing to it, so you didn’t argue with him as he used a knee to part your legs in an attempt to get closer to you.
He grabbed your chin, making you tilt your head back so he could catch your gaze. His eyes were dark, even in the silvery moonlight, and you gulped as he gently patted your cheek.
“You’re going to feel good for me, mmh?”
You nodded, entirely unable to use words right now. Mostly because you were but a puppet, and he the puppeteer. He smirked, satisfied, before unbuttoning his pants. Your eyes dropped, and you watched him do it expectantly, teeth gently digging into your bottom lip in apprehension.
The good kind, the one that made you burst into an explosion of flames.
“You think you can wrap your pretty lips around my dick?” he asked.
For a reason unknown, all you were able to mutter back was, “Namjoon.”
“Yes, baby?”
You gulped, and you looked up at him again. You didn’t watch as he took his pants and underwear off in the same motion, didn’t budge your gaze as you heard the slap of his hard dick on his abdomen. From the way his arm moved, large bicep popping slightly, you knew he was jerking off, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look down. Couldn’t bring yourself to gaze away from his eyes as they burned on you, searing their mark right on your soul.
“What is it?” he asked again, with a barely concealed warning in his voice.
He wasn’t one to have to repeat, was he? No, you were pretty sure Namjoon was used to being obeyed, with being the leader of a boyband like BTS. Pretty sure he expected to be obeyed, and somehow that turned you from puppet to puppeteer, as your hands rested on his thick, muscular thighs.
“You want me to suck your dick?” you asked, voice sultry as you moved your hands up, never touching him where he so visibly wanted.
His lips parted, though he remained surprisingly silent. He clearly didn’t expect you to take control of the situation, but from the way his features darkened even more, you knew he liked it.
“Want me to suck you dry?” you added. “Want to come down my throat?”
“Fuck,” he cursed, and he grabbed the base of his dick to gently tap it against the corner of your mouth. “Better get to work, baby. You’re a lot of talk for someone that hasn’t touched me yet.”
“Say please,” you teased, and you let one of your hands move between his legs so you could cup his balls. They sat heavy in your palm, seemingly ready to explode.
“Fuck,” he repeated, adding your name at the end. “Who would have thought you had this in you?”
Emboldened by his words, you licked at his tip, collecting the precum on his slit. “That wasn’t please.”
He clenched his jaw, eyes shutting in frustration before he finally said, “Please, baby. Please suck my dick.”
You sucked on his tip once, tongue swirling around it, before pulling away. “Good boy.”
That was Namjoon’s undoing. He let go of his dick, grabbed your head, aligning his dick with your mouth as he repeatedly cursed under his breath. You liked him like this, liked the power you had over him. So you resisted, just to piss him off further, but it only seemed to turn him into a whiny mess as begging mixed with cursing.
Only then did you finally start sucking him off, jaw straining from how big he was. It hurt, and your eyes watered as he reached the back of your throat with not even half of him in your mouth. All you could think of was that he was going to be quite a stretch down there, too, as you looked up at his features, casted in the soft silvery glow of the moon outside.
You pulled almost all the way out, but the hand on the back of your head held you in place, forcing you to keep him in your mouth. You played with the head of his cock with your tongue, swirling it around it, teasing the slit as the salty taste of precum filled your mouth. You moaned, softly, and Namjoon cursed once more, before falling entirely silent as he watched you take as much of him as you could again.
Once he hit the back of your throat, you swallowed, eyes watering again as you tried to hold in your gag reflex. It didn’t really work, and when you choked, Namjoon pulled out of your mouth.
“You okay?” he asked.
“You’re so big,” you praised, and you grabbed his dick with a loose grip, jerking him off slowly. Mostly, you spread your saliva on his length, wanting to make sure he was well-lubricated for what was to come.
“Why don’t you sit?” you told him, letting go of his dick.
He looked conflicted for about a second before he did. You readjusted yourself so you were kneeling between his powerful thighs, and the new position allowed you to bite at the hard muscles of his abdomen. He hissed, hand going to the back of your head as he guided you towards his dick once more.
“Suck me, baby,” he said, still sounding just as whiny.
Feeling like a brat, you replied, “What do I get in exchange?”
His forehead creased as he furrowed his eyebrows, searching for something to reply. Though Namjoon was not a man of many words, always choosing his words carefully, right now, it seemed he was entirely silenced.
“I’ll fuck you good,” he finally answered, voice low. He bent a little, grabbing your face, and his thumbs stroked your cheeks. “I’ll fuck you good until your legs shake and you can’t walk anymore. Is that a good deal?”
You bit your lip as he let go of you, once again grabbing his dick so he could hold it up for you. Not moving towards it, you rested your head on his thigh, before reaching between his legs to cup his balls. They were heavy in your palm, and you gently massaged them, earning you a soft grunt from him.
“Careful with the balls,” he warned you.
You pouted before leaning between his legs. You avoided his waiting cock, instead aiming for the base of his dick, right between his two balls. You then licked a long stripe towards the top, and Namjoon cursed as you swirled your tongue on his frenulum.
“My bad,” you then apologized, letting go of his balls as you made a mental note that they probably were too sensitive for him to enjoy. “Let me make it up to you.”
He cocked an eyebrow in question, but the second your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock and you sucked hard, he threw his head back, cursing out loud. It finally convinced you to get to work, and you replaced his hand on his dick so you could jerk him off in time with the bobbing of your head.
As big as he was, you found you couldn’t keep going for much longer. So instead of taking all of him in – or as much of him as you could – you focused on his tip, jerking him off faster after having spit in your hand. Looking up at him, you noticed his teeth digging into his lower lip, a clear indication that he was enjoying himself, and then you closed your eyes, focusing on the job at hand.
Focusing on pleasuring Kim Namjoon.
You sucked him off for a while, long enough for his dick to turn rock hard under your ministrations. Long enough for him to be a panting and cursing mess, long enough for your jaw to hurt so bad you almost thought it was going to dislocate. When the pain grew too intense, you sat back on your heels, and stroked his dick, twisting your wrist as you reached the tip.
“So big I can’t even suck you properly,” you commented.
“I’ll stretch you wide open, baby,” he said, and he leaned back on his hands as he looked down at you. “I’ll stretch you so wide you’ll cry my name.”
It was so crass your hand slowed on his dick as you clenched your thighs. “Fuck, Namjoon.”
He smirked, dimples dangerously decorating his cheeks, but an expert motion of your hand had him close his eyes, mouth falling open on a low moan.
“Should I ride you?” you asked him. “I want to feel you inside of me.”
“You’ll need me to get you ready,” he answered once he was able to look at you again. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
You almost wanted to tell him that you were going to be okay, but he wasn’t wrong. Fucking yourself on him without having been previously fingered would definitely hurt like a bitch.
“Ride my face?” he suggested as you debated what to do.
You wet your lips, desire pumping through your blood before you told him, “Lie down.”
He didn’t need to be told twice, and you quickly climbed on top of him, straddling his face. His large hands cupped your ass, squeezing and parting your cheeks as he licked a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. He flicked his tongue against the bundle of nerves, and you hissed, fingers getting lost in his hair as you pushed it out of his eyes.
You maintained eye contact as you lowered yourself on him until you were properly seated on his pretty features. His tongue parted your folds, dipping in your entrance, and you instinctively grinded. He pushed the wet muscle deep inside of you, as deep as he could before arching it, searching for your sweet spot.
When you let out a soft moan, he flicked at the same spot again, and you grinded into his face once more.
“Fuck,” you told him. “Right there.”
He understood right away, and he started fucking you with his tongue, hitting that same spot again and again, making the corners of your vision blurry. All you could focus on were his eyes between your legs, and you moaned his name as his fingers dug into the skin of your ass. It hurt a little, and you wondered for a time if he was unaware of his strength.
You wouldn’t be surprised – he was a lot stronger than you had imagined he was.
As Namjoon kept working on you, eating you out and lapping your juices, you palmed your breast, rolling the sensitive nipple between your thumb and index. The added sensation had more of your vision turning blurry, making it hard for you to focus on Namjoon. So you closed your eyes, focusing on the pleasure moving through you, and soon enough, a knot started tightening in your core.
Instinctively, you started grinding into his face, following the rhythm of his tongue inside of you, and the knot tightened and tightened, almost painfully so. When Namjoon landed a surprising slap on your ass, you lost it, knot snapping as your orgasm hit you.
You came hard, walls pulsating around Namjoon’s tongue, and he milked all of your orgasm out of you, lapping your juices as you dripped on him. When you started getting oversensitive, you moved to sit next to him instead. Namjoon didn’t move right away, catching his breath, but when he did move, it was to wipe his chin with the back of his hand. He sat up after that, catching your lips in a quick kiss that left you breathless, mind spinning with the taste of yourself.
“Now I’m going to fuck you,” Namjoon promised.
All you could do was moan as one of his large hands moved between your legs. He pushed two fingers in, and they slid right in with all the lubrication your orgasm had just brought out of you. He fingered you for a few seconds as he littered small kisses on your shoulder and up your neck, and he nibbled at your ear once he reached it.
“You’re going to take all of me, mmh?” he asked right in your ear, voice so low and husky your walls clenched around his fingers.
“Yes,” you answered.
He pulled away, smirking in satisfaction before saying, “Get on all fours. I want to look at your ass while I’m fucking you.”
“You’d like that?” you teased him. “You want to see my ass bounce while you pound into me?”
Your two sentences were enough to silence him once more, and all he managed to do in reply was nod. It made you chuckle, and before you got into position, you crawled to your bedside table, fishing a condom out of the half-empty box you owned from a previous relationship.
“Put this on,” you told Namjoon as you handed him the condom.
He looked down at your hand. “What size is that?”
You cocked an eyebrow. “Regular.”
He laughed before shaking his head at you. You were about to argue when he got up, moving to his discarded pants so he could grab his wallet. “I need bigger than that, baby,” he told you as an explanation, and you rolled your eyes playfully as you put the condom back in your bottom drawer.
Namjoon fished an appropriately-sized condom from his wallet, and he was quick to get it out of the wrapper and put it on his hard length. He hissed a little as he rolled it down his dick, but once it was in place he moved back to the bed, kneeling behind you as you propped your ass up, keeping your face down.
“Gosh, you’re so sexy like this,” he praised you. “Ever since he saw you again, I’ve been wanting to see you like this.”
A drop of warning clouded your senses for a few seconds, but when he rubbed his dick between your folds, pushing it against your clit, lust took over once more. You grabbed at the sheets as he teased the sensitive bundle of nerves again and again, and when you had enough, you cursed.
“Fuck me,” you told him. “Fuck me before I change my mind.”
He slapped your ass. “You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”
Before you could reply, he pushed the fat tip of his cock between your folds, and you moaned at the burning sensation. It was the good kind of burning, the one that left stars dancing behind your eyelids and on the periphery of your vision. It made you clutch the sheets harder, and then Namjoon pushed in, embedding himself deep inside of you.
He grabbed your hips, fingers digging into the supple skin so hard you were pretty sure they were going to leave marks behind, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. All you did was moan loudly, especially as he pulled almost all the way out before slapping his hips forward again.
It was rough, and your body jerked forward from the impact of his pelvis on your ass. You couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything other than the stretch between your legs, and when he started pounding into you, you felt him so deep you cried out his name.
“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged you. “You take me so well.”
He slightly slowed down, but his hips still snapped forward in quick and harsh thrusts as he leaned forward, adjusting the position. When he was satisfied by the new angle, he resumed his previous speed, as one of his hands grabbed at your hair, pulling it in a makeshift ponytail so he could keep you in place.
He didn’t pull on your hair harder than that, didn’t force you look back at him, and for a moment, all that could be heard in the room was the sound of skin slapping on skin, and the moans and grunts you two were making. It was loud, and you were glad you lived in a house and not an apartment – you were pretty sure your neighbours would have heard otherwise.
When Namjoon landed another slap on your ass, you cursed loudly, and it made him still halfway out of you. He massaged the spot gently, soothing the skin with his warm fingers. “Do you want to switch position?” he asked.
As much as the current position felt good, you knew this angle would never make you cum. So you nodded your head, and Namjoon pulled out of you, sitting back on his heels. You turned towards him, and your eyes fell to his hardened length. To your juice coating the condom, and you got an idea.
“Lean back on your hands,” you ordered.
He cocked an eyebrow in question, yet he still obeyed. When he was properly positioned, you climbed on top of him, grabbing his cock to guide it towards your entrance. You help onto his shoulder with your other hand, and you slowly sunk on him until his cock hit your cervix. It hurt a little, the angle different from earlier yet making you feel so much more, and you grabbed onto his other shoulder.
“Shit,” you cursed.
“You okay?”
You nodded. “You’re so fucking deep.” And then you leaned back a little, and both of your gazes dropped to the space where your bodies were connected. To the bulge in your tummy as you slightly leaned back. “So fucking big we can see you in me.”
He moaned and threw his head back as you moved up, only to slam back down a second later. He put all of his weight on one hand, and his other settled on your waist, following you as you established a slow and sensual rhythm, rolling your hips whenever he was deep inside of you. It had his big cock rubbing against that sweet spot inside of you, and when the corners of your vision turned white, you started moving faster.
You grabbed onto his neck, not squeezing, and you felt him swallow under your palm. Your pleasure increased tenfold as the hand on your waist moved to cup your breast, and when he squeezed your nipple, you clenched your walls hard against his dick.
“Fuck,” he let out, and he looked at you.
The moment his gaze met yours, you started choking him, increasing your speed to chase your orgasm. His mouth fell open, and his dick reached deep inside of you as you kept going, kept splitting yourself on him.
When your orgasm hit, you wrapped an arm around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder. He circled your waist, fucking up into you as much as he could in this position. He rode you through your high, and you were a shaking mess when he finally slowed down, hand rubbing your back soothingly.
“Lie down for me,” he gently said.
You were too lost in ecstasy to argue, and you craved his dick the second it was out of your pussy. He wasn’t out for long, and he kneeled between your legs, holding them to his chest as he pushed in in one powerful thrust. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head with the sensation, and you moaned out his name as he established an unforgiving rhythm.
When his teeth sunk into your calf in a clear attempt to muffle his own moans, you clenched hard around him, and it was enough to get him close. To your surprise, he pulled out of you, quickly taking off the condom, and he pumped his dick, emptying his load on your stomach and pelvis. The feeling of every hot spurt on you had you reach between you, and when some landed on your fingers, you quickly brought them to your mouth, getting a taste of him.
Namjoon grunted, and he slowly decreased the rhythm of his jerking off until he was just holding his dick over you, one last drop of cum meeting the rest on your stomach. You didn’t move for a long time, both of you trying to catch your breath. It took a while, but once your pulse had stopped racing, you propped yourself up on your elbows, looking at the white mess on your stomach.
“You made quite a mess,” you teased him.
“Sorry,” he sheepishly said. “Was that okay?”
You nodded. “As long as you clean it up, yes.”
He laughed, bending so he could retrieve some tissues from your nightstand. He first cleaned his fingers, and then your stomach, making sure not to leave a single drop behind. Still, you felt sticky, and when you offered him to take a shower, he agreed right away.
You let the warm water run on your body, taking with it your sweat and Namjoon’s cum, as you ran your hands through your hair. You sighed, opening your eyes to the sight of him as he looked down at you, a fond smile on his lips.
“Can you pass me the shampoo?”
He nodded, but instead of giving it to you, he motioned for you to turn. “I’ll wash your hair.”
The domesticity of the action had your cheeks burning, and all you could do was hope he hadn’t noticed. You still turned, and when he started massaging your head, you shut your eyes, sighing in contentment. When he was done, he made you turn around so he could wash the shampoo out of your hair, making sure you didn’t get any in your eyes. After that, you switched place so he could wash his own hair, while you busied yourself with cleaning your body, erasing what was left of the action that had transpired between you and Kim Namjoon.
You didn’t speak more in the shower, though you did exchange a slow kiss once you were both entirely clean. Namjoon’s lips seemed more hesitant now, but as you wrapped your arms around his waist, it was his turn to sigh in contentment. His kiss grew more affirmative now, as if he was trying to tell you that he, too, felt a certain way with you.
Because right now, you felt like you were floating, like you were an astronaut in zero gravity. It was dizzying, but in a beautiful way as you held onto him, and he held onto you. It was filled with memories of the past, yes, but also of promises of the future.
That was when you remembered what he had said right before you had started having sex. How he had been imagining you like this ever since you had met again, thirteen years after you’d disappeared from his life. The previous wariness returned, and you pulled away from the kiss to rest your forehead on his chest. He let you do it, unaware of the drop of doubt that was solidifying into lead in your stomach.
After the shower, you lied in bed, Namjoon by your side, unable to form a sentence. Unable to breathe your worries into words, unable to share with Namjoon that you were afraid he only wanted you for sex. And you tried, you really tried to speak, but all you could do was slowly breathe in and out, trying to calm your racing heart before it burst inside your chest.
Right when you thought you had gathered enough courage, Namjoon softly snored next to you, and you realized that, after all, it was too late to share your concerns.
*****
You stared at the scenery out of the window. You hadn’t been to Ilsan in a long time, but when Namjoon had mentioned he was going to visit his family, offering you a ride – a company official ride, considering he couldn’t drive – you hadn’t been able to say no. So you watched Ilsan from the window of your parents’ kitchen, remembering growing up.
Remembering days of childhood innocence, and of teenager crushes. Of teenager fights, and breakups that had shaped who you had turned out to be. It was strange to think that you were going to circle your way back to Namjoon, that you were going to come here to Ilsan, with him.
You hadn’t told your parents. When they had seen you arrive, they had asked how you had gotten here, considering your car was nowhere to be seen. You had lied through your teeth, saying that you had taken the train, and they hadn’t pushed, knowing that you indeed often took the train anyway, in an attempt to clear your head and sketch some ideas for your next art piece.
Instead, you had been at the back of a company car, chatting the ride away with Kim Namjoon as if it wasn’t only the tenth time you had seen him again after your breakup thirteen years ago. It was like you had never parted – complicity between Kim Namjoon and you was easy as breathing, as natural as the sun shining in the sky overhead. And the sun had shone all the way home, as if to tell you that your worries meant nothing.
But your worries were still haunting you. Hadn’t stopped haunting you since you had sex with him, chasing you through your days, taunting you through your nights. You weren’t able to escape them, especially not as he acted the way that he did.
That is, as if you were far closer than you were. As if the years hadn’t come and gone, as if thirteen years had been just the blink of an eye. It was strange to you, stranger still, that whenever you were with him, you tended to forget too. Tended to bask in his warmth, and it was no wonder your relationship was so physical.
Indeed, sometimes you even thought that it was all there was. Because each time you had seen him after your date had been physical, his body on top of yours as he fucked your brains out. As you climbed on top in an attempt to gain control, but you doubted you’d ever have the control when it came to Kim Namjoon.
So you looked outside the kitchen window, trying to remember who you were. Trying to remember what you wanted, and trying to figure out what you should eat for dinner later.
You were here for four days, and though you had brought supplies so you could paint here, hoping your childhood home would bring you inspiration, all you had been able to do was worry about Kim Namjoon and what he meant in your life.
You weren’t sure it mattered. Because even though your relationship was purely physical, it still brought you satisfaction. Always left you swimming in ecstasy, always made you sleep soundly for a few days.
It had been weeks since your date. Almost two months, actually. Namjoon had texted you regularly, though the conversation never really delved into subjects that mattered. He was too busy to hang out often, but he made you feel as if he was making time for you. Yet you couldn’t shake what he had said out of your mind.
Did you want to just be someone Kim Namjoon saw when he needed to fuck? When he needed to paint himself on you, to bring more confusion into the mess of art your mind had been since the date?
The answer was easy. No, you didn’t wish to be just that. You’d never been one to have fuck buddies, and every time you saw Namjoon, the impression was reinforced. Perhaps because he made small comments, about how he was glad he could fuck you, glad you were in his bed.
Glad you moaned out his name whenever you came, and evidently, he made you come plenty enough. But yet you needed more, and you hated yourself for it.
Why complicate something that was so easy? So you remained silent, never said anything, though you did hold onto him as much as you could when you slept in his arms, trying to remind yourself that if he just wanted sex, he wouldn’t sleep over, or ask you to stay.
Would he have offered to drive you to Ilsan if you were nothing to him? You highly doubted so. Especially considering how he had talked to you, how comfortable he was next to you.
You sighed, looking away from the window as you turned towards the living room. Your father was napping on the couch, and your mother had gone to the market, declining your offer to come with as she had claimed you needed to work on your paintings.
You had been staring at the canvas for an hour before you had come to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, and you had already finished it as you had watched the world outside the kitchen window, lost in thought. You figured taking a walk would help clear your mind, and you hoped you’d find inspiration by the time you were back home.
Though the weather was warmer outside than it was weeks ago, when you had your date with Namjoon, you still wrapped a thick scarf around your neck, burying yourself in the warm coat you had brought here. You put on your Chelsea boots, and the minute you stepped outside, you loosened the scarf.
The air smelled fresh and hinted at spring. There was no snow, most of it having melted under the peculiar warmth, and by the time you made it to the end of the street, you unzipped your coat too, feeling too hot.
You turned to your left, bowing your head slightly at the older couple that you passed. They reciprocated, but you didn’t pay attention to them more than necessary as you walked towards the park behind your middle school. The middle school where you and Namjoon had first fallen in love when you were dumb and young.
Ten minutes later, the building came into view, and memories swarmed in, chasing Namjoon out of your thoughts. Well, chasing current Namjoon out of your thoughts as you remembered your classes, and the teacher that you had always hated. As you remembered sitting on the bleachers of the soccer field, chatting the evening away when you were supposed to be home.
It was no surprise that you found yourself making your way to those bleachers, and you sat as high as you could, eyeing the empty field. It was the middle of the week, and the soccer field was empty save for birds searching for worms in the wet grass.
You leaned back on your hands so you could look up, gazing at the few clouds in the sky. Wind played with your hair, blowing it in your face, but you ignored it, focusing on the fresh air. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you inhaled deeply.
You were calm and content... until you let out a startled cry as someone said your name. Your eyes flew open to the sight of Kim Namjoon at the bottom of the bleachers, looking up at you.
“You scared the shit out of me,” you told him, hand on your racing heart. “What are you doing here?”
“I was just out on a walk,” he informed you. “Didn’t expect to run into you.”
He walked up the bleachers, sitting next to you before you replied. “Your parents are bothering you?” you teased, gently nudging him.
“Nah,” he said, laughing. “I’ve been songwriting since I got here? Can’t get this song right, so I decided to walk. Thought it’d help clear my mind.”
Of course, he was out and about for the same reason as you. Because you and Kim Namjoon were far more similar than you wanted to believe it. Sometimes, it led you to think that you were two of the same person, and usually, whenever you thought that you had to rein yourself in, reminding yourself that all he did with you was have sex.
“Couldn’t paint,” you admitted.
“Your parents are bothering you?” he asked, repeating your question with a corner smile and a single dimple.
This time, you pushed him, laughing before replying, “You’re annoying.”
He grinned, though you both fell silent as your gazes moved up to the sky, and you enjoyed the afternoon warmth. You knew the night would get cold, but you still had a few more hours of sunlight before the world gave way to darkness.
“You know,” he said as your eyes chased a white cloud on the cerulean expanse of the sky. “I was hoping we could hang out, while we’re here?”
He said it like a question, as if asking for permission, and it had your heart race in your chest. “Aren’t you afraid of your parents asking questions?”
“Not really,” he answered. “They know that you came with me. They want me to invite you over for dinner.”
Your gaze widened as it dropped to him. He was already looking at you, a small, hopeful smile on his lips. “Is that something that we’re supposed to be doing?” you enquired.
It seemed to take him by surprise. “What do you mean?”
You reckoned now was a good time as any to voice your concerns. Perhaps because the scene was familiar, safe, and you couldn’t deal with the concern gnawing at your nerves anymore.
“What are we, exactly?” you said, softly, finally giving voice to the worries.
Namjoon’s eyes went round as blush crept on his cheeks. “What?”
The drop of lead from that first date grew inside of you. “It’s just… we’ve only been hanging out for sex, correct?”
“Is that what it is for you?” he enquired after a few seconds of silence, of him just watching you with a somber expression.
You chuckled awkwardly. “To be entirely honest, I don’t do this. So no, I’d hope it’s not that, but…” you trailed off, eyes falling to the field in front of you. “You haven’t really made me feel like you’re in this for more than just sex.”
He leaned forward as if trying to gain your attention. As your gaze remained stubbornly on the empty field, he said your name once. His voice was soft, gentle, and that, more than anything, made you turn to look at him.
“I thought we were… dating?” he admitted. “I… I’m sorry if I just… assumed?”
It was such a Namjoon thing to do that you couldn’t even blame him. His revelation made the lead melt away to be replaced by a sweet warmth much like the one the sun rays carried. “Oh?”
As you didn’t say anything else, Namjoon straightened, putting a little distance between the two of you. “Unless that’s not what you want?”
In truth, yes, it probably was what you had been wanting since the beginning. Since he had arrived at your house with the flowers before the date, and since his lips had found yours for the first time again after thirteen years apart. You had been wanting him, more than just physically.
“I mean…” You chuckled awkwardly again, shrugging your shoulders. “Yes, that’s what I want.”
He grinned, dimples flashing blindingly, even more so than the sun in the sky up above. “Good. So you’ll come over for dinner?”
This time you laughed, and you cocked an eyebrow. “With just a few hours notice?”
“Yeah?” He shrugged. “My parents already know you, what does it change?”
And when you held his soft gaze, you decided why not? Why not dive in feet first, and not care about the consequences?
You doubted there’d be anything negative to come out of a dinner with Namjoon’s parents. And turned out you were right – both of them were happy to see you, and Namjoon’s mom kept repeating how proud she was that Namjoon had found you again, in Seoul. To Namjoon’s dismay, she told you about just how much Namjoon had cried after your breakup, and about how much it had encouraged him to become a rapper. Namjoon was red up to the tip of his ears as you looked at him, yet he didn’t scold his mother, didn’t tell her to stop.
And this, most of all, was the Namjoon you remembered from thirteen years ago. A shy, sweet boy who was always good to his elders, always polite and ready to help. He did help his mother, doing the dishes along with you after you’d eaten, and when it was time for you to leave, his father scolded him and told him to walk you home.
Namjoon grumbled that he was already going to do so, and you said your goodbyes to his parents before walking out into the night. It was a lot colder than it had been during the day, and you buried your hands in the pockets of your coat as you walked close to Namjoon, his arm brushing yours with every step that you took.
“Sorry about that,” Namjoon apologized.
You glanced up at him, gazing at the aura around his head caused by the streetlight behind him. “About what?”
He shrugged. “The dinner. I didn’t expect my parents to be weird about it.”
“They weren’t,” you reassured him. You walked in silence for a time, eyes moving back to the street in front of you. It was empty, even though it wasn’t particularly late at night. Perhaps it rendered you bolder, because you said, “I’m really happy I said yes. I missed them.”
He smiled, softly. “They missed you too.”
A comfortable silence moved between you, and you basked in it as you made your way home, with your teenage lover by your side. It was hard to believe that he was next to you right now, and just like that, you knew what you were going to paint when you were home.
“The night is beautiful,” Namjoon said softly. “Makes it feel like we never left, you know?”
“Like it hasn’t been thirteen years, right?”
He nodded. “The weight of the years does feel lesser since we’ve reconnected.”
His words had warmth blossom in your chest, heating up your body in the cold early spring night. They had you glance at him, and when you found him already looking at you, you stopped. He stopped just a step ahead of you, turning to look at you.
“Do you think we were just right people, wrong time?” you asked. “I’ve been thinking… it’s been so easy with you, since our date. It’s strange to believe that it would be, no?”
“The years haven’t changed us as much as you’d imagined they would,” he agreed. “Like…” he glanced up at the sky, searching for words to voice his feelings. “BTS came into my life after you. I’d say it changed me, made me grow up far faster than I thought I would. Being the leader and all, I had a lot of responsibilities on me, you know?”
You nodded, not really knowing where he was going.
“Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to be the leader,” he continued, revealing something you weren’t sure he had said out loud to anyone before. “I wish I didn’t have this weight on me and… in November, when I saw you again, I was going through a hard time. I didn’t entirely recognize you at first, but I was drawn to your gallery again and… I tried to find a reason to visit. To find a reason to talk to you.”
His eyes met yours again, and you almost balked at the intensity of his gaze.
“I felt lighter with you than I’d felt in years. So, when you say right people, wrong time, I think you’re right. I think thirteen years ago was all fucked up for us, but I think we were always meant to find each other again, through all the craziness of the world.”
You didn’t hesitate. You grabbed the lapels of his coat, pulling him down in a kiss. He kissed you back instantly, though his lips were slow against yours. Soft, anchoring you in this moment, in this space that had used to be yours when you were younger. He kissed you like time had slowed for you, like you had all night to stay right here, in this spot.
Your heart found a soothing rhythm in your chest, one echoed in his own ribcage, and his large hands found your waist to pull you closer. When he slipped his tongue in your mouth, you sighed dreamily, the taste of him so heavenly now that the lead in your stomach was gone that you thought you were going to start flying right here, right now.
Namjoon pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, and your breaths moved up in the sky, forming a single cloud over your heads.
“Had I known that you were worried I wasn’t into you like this, I wouldn’t have had sex with you every time we hung out,” he admitted, softly.
That, more than anything else, finished reassuring you.
“Hey,” you let out. “It’s okay. I should have spoken to you about it before.”
He pecked your lips once more before pulling away. He offered you his hand, and you gently took it as he smiled at you, his dimples so familiar on his cheeks that you wanted to drown in him.
“Let’s get you home,” he said. “I wouldn’t want your parents to worry.”
“I’m an adult now,” you reminded him, earning a laugh as he pulled you towards your house.
He shrugged. “They are still your parents; they’ll always worry for you.”
His words held truth, so you didn’t resist as he finished walking you home. You stood in front of the gate, looking at each other, and Namjoon gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers grazed down your face until they rested on your jaw, and he leaned down to press another gentle kiss on your lips, one that had you wish you didn’t have to part with him for the night.
One day, you liked to believe you wouldn’t have to part at all.
*****
Being in a relationship with Kim Namjoon was easy. The weeks following your trip to Ilsan had you growing ever so closer, and you accompanied him to a dinner with all of his members. There, you saw what it meant for him to be the leader, but you kept your hand in his, bearing the weight of it along with him, even though it wasn’t like he had to keep them in check in private.
You had left early as you needed to go to your studio early in the morning, but had been unable to part with Namjoon, which wasn’t all that surprising to you or him. You both liked sharing a bed, liked the closeness that it allowed you. So you stayed the night, and the next day you made your way to your studio level-headed, ready to paint all day after your meeting with your manager. Your phone was dead, but you knew she wasn’t one to miss a meeting, and you figured you could always charge your phone when you got to the studio.
To your surprise, Sooah wasn’t alone when you got there. There was a suit-clad man, and he bowed his head at you respectfully as you walked in. You threw a curious look to Sooah, and the expression on her face made your heart drop to your ass, if that was possible.
“Hi,” the man politely said. “I’m glad you’ve finally showed up.”
He sounded annoyed, and it grated your nerves right away. You cocked an eyebrow before saying, “To whom do I owe the pleasure?”
“I am Jo Jonghyuk,” he answered, offering his hand for you to shake. “Hybe representative.”
You let out a nervous chuckle. “What’s bringing you here?
Sooah was the one to answer. “There’s been leaked pictures of you and Namjoon,” she informed you carefully. “They are… all over the media this morning.”
A drop of cold sweat rolled down your spine. “Excuse me?”
You hadn’t noticed it before, but the man had a briefcase. He quickly opened it, getting a stack of papers out of it that he handed to you unceremoniously. You looked at them, eyes widening as you saw the series of pictures, all of them of you and Namjoon.
And your face was far too recognizable. You couldn’t pretend it wasn’t you, couldn’t pretend you had no idea what the man was talking about. So when he asked if there was a space where you could sit down to discuss, you let Sooah suggest heading downstairs. You followed them with fear in your gut, and even when you were sitting on the couches downstairs, you still couldn’t stop your heart from racing in your chest.
“So,” the man said. “We’re aware that our artists have lives outside of the company.” He paused, watching you carefully. “But we need to preserve their image. I’m sure you can understand?”
Sooah saved you by replying. “What is that supposed to mean for Y/n?”
“Namjoon is currently in a meeting with other representatives. He will be asked the same thing as you,” the man offered as an explanation.
You cocked an eyebrow. “And what is it that I’m going to be asked?”
“Keep the relationship behind closed doors.” The man motioned around you. “As an artist, I’m sure you understand how one’s image is important. The stocks are going to be impacted if it is said that Kim Namjoon is in a relationship, and not for the better. We are going to release a statement later in the day to refute the rumours.”
It wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be, yet you still felt sick, down to your very core. “And this needed an early morning meeting?”
You’d like to think that you sounded arrogant, defiant, but your voice was filled with nerves, shaking pathetically.
The man offered you a polite smile. “No. I’m here to have you sign an NDA.”
That made more sense. And still, it wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be – it wasn’t like you were going to scream about your relationship with Namjoon. After all, it still was fairly new, and you also wanted to preserve your anonymity.
In that instant, as the man pulled out said NDA from his briefcase, you understood something. Your anonymity was gone, gone like the winds of winter as the world outside slowly turned to spring.
Your face was visible in the pictures. People had seen you around the gallery, outside of official events, when you wore your mask.
You signed with a trembling hand, barely recognizing your own name on the paper, and the man offered you a copy of it before saying that he had to go. He thanked you for your cooperation on the way out, and when he was gone, disappearing at the bend in the street, you turned towards Sooah.
“I’m fucked,” you said.
She pursed her lips, concern moving on her features. “You are not. There’s no indication that people will associate you with Maehwa. I don’t think this will affect the gallery.”
You shook your head. “You don’t understand.” You scoffed, gaze dropping to the floor as the lead you had felt after your first date with Namjoon rematerialized, turning into a reality you didn’t think you were ready to gaze at. “It’s just a matter of time. His fandom discovers everything. They will know it’s me.”
“Then we’ll use it as publicity.”
Your eyes widened as you looked at your manager. “You can’t be serious.”
“Your art is beautiful,” she reminded you. “You’ve been building your reputation for years. Why would you being a human, having relationships, impact it?” She paused as if to give weight to her question. “It’s just going to put emphasis to the emotion in your art. People won’t see you as a masked individual anymore, but rather as the person behind the artist.”
You didn’t want to hear her. Knew she was being rational, yet couldn’t bear the truth in her words. Perhaps because you had always loved your anonymity. Always wanted to keep it, to use it to protect yourself from the world of fame, a world you had never wanted for yourself.
No, you just wanted to make art. To enjoy the science behind the pieces, the emotions that made you create. You were afraid it was going to be taken from you now. And who were you to blame? It was just a question of time before people connected the dots between you and Namjoon, thanks to the pictures, yes, but also to the interview that had yet to be released.
“Deep breaths,” Sooah said calmly, cutting through your spiraling. “I promise it’ll be okay.”
“What if it’s not?” you asked. “What if I can’t paint anymore?”
“You’ve been painting your whole life,” she reminded you. “You won’t suddenly stop because of rumours about you.”
See, that was the logical way to think about it. You clung to the words, held them close to your heart and let them replay in your head. It eased the anxiety that was building inside of you, and soon enough, your frantic breathing returned to normal.
“Shit.”
Sooah raised her eyebrows, waiting to make sure your spiraling truly was over. When you didn’t say anything else, she nodded once, patting you on the shoulder. “It’s all going to work out. And besides, congrats on your relationship with Namjoon?”
She said it like a question because, frankly, you hadn’t told Miyoung or Sooah a lot about you and Namjoon, except that you were taking things slow. It was the best you had been able to come up with, back when you thought he was only seeking carnal union with you, and you hadn’t changed the narrative after you and Namjoon had made it official in Ilsan.
And later, as you worked on the painting you had started in Ilsan, you pictured the cold night, when he had kissed you under the streetlamps. When you had realized that you had truly been wrong all along, that life was a cycle bringing you back to him. Back to where it had all started. You remembered his soft lips on yours, and that, most of all, finished calming you down from the anxiety.
Every stroke of your brush on the canvas, every new line, meant a thousand words, as you painted. As you created art from nothing but the memories your art held, as you put them together to form the image that had come to you that cold night. It was beautiful, in a heavy kind of way, because the emotions were heavy. The love, the recognition and the knowledge of life and the cycle of it, all entwined together to form something that only you and Namjoon could understand.
And as you worked, forgetting all about the world outside, all about the threat to your anonymity, you believed everything was going to be alright…
Almost.
*****
“Thank you,” you thanked the young girls after they were done perusing your gallery.
It had taken all but a few hours for your artist self to be associated with Kim Namjoon and your gallery. On the same day, you had received more visitors than you had ever had, and though you had donned your mask, you knew it was pointless.
Knew from the looks and the whispers that people knew. Still, for the next following days, you kept wearing your mask. Kept trying to ignore how people weren’t here for your art anymore, but rather for you as a person. For your connection to Kim Namjoon, for what you meant to him and what he meant to you.
Namjoon had been understanding when you had told him how anxious the situation was making you. Had suggested avoiding public spaces altogether, and so far, you had only been able to see him once for dinner two days ago.
The dinner had been spent in far more silence than usual, while you both contemplated what this meant for you. You had settled on really taking it slow, letting the rumours die of their own volution instead of doing more about them. Because Hybe had released a statement, and already Dispatch was on the newest rumour, forgetting all about your possible connection with Kim Namjoon.
Except for the fans, that is. Because the fans came to your gallery, complimented your art, though you did see them snickering in your back. Before, you had believed you were above this, above petty gossiping and jealous bullying, especially coming from younger people. After all, younger people were that – young, and youth often held an amount of stupidity that was rarely found elsewhere.
As it had been the case for you and Namjoon, thirteen years ago.
Still, you found you were increasingly anxious, and instead of expecting Namjoon’s next message, his next call, you started dreading them. It was vicious, poisoning your blossoming relationship without him even being aware of it.
How could you blame him? He was used to this life, after all.
You sighed in your mask, hating the way your eyes burned. They burned more now that you wore the mask more often, drying out whenever you breathed out too strongly. You had gotten artificial tears, and you couldn’t wait to be able to lubricate your eyes as you watched the last few people milling about your gallery.
It was almost closing time, and you were looking forward to it more than you usually did. Mostly because you wanted to bask in calmness and silence for a while, if only to be able to get a grip on the anxiety.
Two older women approached you, hands behind their backs, where you stood by the big painting of Ilsan. They bowed politely, and to your relief, asked you if one of the pieces was for sale. Art enthusiasts, then. It was reassuring to see some of them in your gallery, even after all the recent events.
“Yes,” you answered them politely. “It’s currently on auction for the month. You can put in your own bid if you’d like.”
The smallest one pursed her lips, tilting her head to the side. “How expensive was the last bid?”
Even though this was supposed to be Sooah’s job, you still had access to the app where the bidding took place. So you took your phone out of your pocket, heart dropping in your chest when the screen lit up to show you three texts from Namjoon. You ignored them, swiping the phone open before clicking on the app.
As it loaded, you looked up to smile at the women. “Just a moment.”
They nodded in understanding, yet one of them looked over her shoulder as if annoyed. You felt bad, but it wasn’t like you controlled the technology. All you could do was wait, and the second the app opened, you scrolled down to the current bidding.
You hadn’t checked it since the bidding had started. Lowest bid had been set at 5 million won, but right now, the number you were reading on the screen didn’t even make any sense.
“Huh,” you let out, and you looked at the women, chuckling awkwardly. “It seems the bid for this piece has gone out of the roof.”
That was putting it lightly. Because, looking at the amount on your phone, you believed the bid had been sent to outer orbit.
The smaller woman winced. “How high?”
“1.2 billion won,” you replied. You checked your phone to make sure and even showed the screen to them.
“Oh,” she said. “We can’t afford that.”
You offered them an apologetic smile. “I have more pieces that are on sale and not on auction if you want me to show you.”
The one that seemed like she wanted to leave suddenly widened her gaze. “Oh, that would be lovely.”
They ended up buying a smaller drawing, saying that they were sure the value of it would skyrocket if they ever wanted to sell it. You wanted to tell them that it probably was just a bubble caused by the rumour and that it’d soon burst. Evidently, you couldn’t tell them that, both because of the NDA and because you were growing tongue-tied with the praise they were sending your way. Instead, all you did was offer them a wink, saying that you hoped they’d hold onto it dearly, and then you walked them to the door as it was closing time anyway.
When the door was locked behind them, you leaned against it, sighing shakily. With trembling hands, you fished your phone out of your pocket, and you went through the different pieces you had on auction. Half of the profits were going to a charity for abused women, and still, it’d leave you with much more money than you ever thought you’d own.
You called Sooah, but it was her day off. You didn’t expect her to pick up, as she had told you she was going to be busy tonight, and of course, she didn’t. You still sent her a text to tell her to check the auction app, and then you pushed up from the door, heading to your studio downstairs.
You sat cross-legged on the floor, amidst the brushes and pots of paint you had left hanging around, not really caring about cleaning after yourself when you were in the arms of inspiration. But right now, the mess was making you feel like an imposter, like people would soon find out that you weren’t worth it.
It was then that you finally checked what Namjoon had sent you.
I hope all is well, his first message read. It was followed by, I’ll be in the studio until later tonight, but would you like to hang out after? Finally, his last message was, I’m going to come over to your studio after closing hour with take-out
For some reason, the thought of him coming here made you want to disappear through the floor, but it was already too late. Indeed, your phone started vibrating in your hand with an upcoming call, and his name on the screen taunted you, telling you that, yes, you were just an imposter.
You picked up, hands shaking slightly as you brought the phone to your ear.
“Busy night,” Namjoon said as a greeting.
You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. You’re on your way?”
“I’m outside,” he admitted. “Just waiting for some people to walk away before I come in. I assume it’s locked?”
You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “I’ll come open for you.”
There was an awkward silence as if he expected you to say something more. When you didn’t, he said, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you lied, and cringed at yourself. You weren’t a liar, hated lying, and lying to him felt like you were eating something foul. “Just tired.”
“Well, I hope you’re excited for some take-out. I got your favourite.”
Now, your heart ached in your chest. Because that was Namjoon. Namjoon would always get your favourite food, would always know what to do to cheer you up. Tonight, it felt wrong, as if you didn’t deserve it.
And really, did you deserve it at all? Did you deserve the attention that he had brought to you? Did you deserve the shine in the spotlight?
You highly doubted so.
Walking upstairs felt like a trek to the top of Mount Everest. You were aware that it was anxiety, that you probably shouldn’t listen to the thoughts right now. But they were taunting you, haunting you, a thousand little ghosts spinning around your head in dizzying circles until all that was left was a broken piece of you.
The sight of Namjoon, hood up and mask on, on the other side of the door wasn’t a relief. It was a hand clutching your throat, choking you up until you were left gasping for air on the ground. You stalled for a few seconds, and you wondered if he could feel your hesitancy. If he knew the spirals you had been going down, if he knew you were questioning everything.
You clenched your jaw, sighed deeply, and somehow a small spark of light split the darkness. Because this was Namjoon. This was the same Namjoon as a decade ago. The first boy you had ever loved – could he still really just be that today?
Finally, you walked over to the door, unlocked it and opened it for him. His dragon eyes were unreadable, but they were questioning. You felt as if they were asking questions to your soul directly and, ever bared in front of him, you were pretty sure your soul was answering.
“Hey baby,” he greeted you as he walked in, and you quickly shut the door and locked it behind him.
“Hi,” you said, voice vulnerable in the midst of your anxiety.
“You’ve been busy?” he asked, the soothing tone of his voice dragging a gentle hand on your back, telling you that maybe, maybe if you could let go of the anxiety, everything would be okay.
But could you, when its talons had sunk so deep into your heart you couldn’t quite tell if it was still beating?
“Yeah,” you answered. “I’ve been working on a piece and… didn’t see the time fly.”
He nodded understandingly. “Of course. That’s why I brought food.”
And that was how you found yourself sitting next to him on the couch in your studio, eyes trailing to your piece of art. You wondered if he could see your anxiety in the swirls of darker colours on the canvas. Could he tell you were haunted?
Could he be the solution?
“I think my album is going to be good,” he said as he swallowed the fried chicken he was eating. “You’re going to love it.”
You pursed your lips, not willing to tell him that you’d always loved whatever he made, even back then. “Of course.”
He flashed you a smile, but you could see that it wasn’t quite reaching his eyes. He didn’t say anything though, and you both finished eating in silence. When you were done, Namjoon sat back in the couch, letting out a long sigh as one of his hands gently landed on your thigh. You immediately tensed, and his hand slid away, fingers flexing as if they wished they could hold onto you, but knew it was best not to.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked, his deep voice surrounding you, echoes reverberating through the fabric of your soul.
Could you tell him? Could you be honest with Kim Namjoon, or would it make him run away?
A scary thought formed in your mind, coming from the dirtiest part of your soul. Would it be better if he ran away?
“A lot,” you admitted, unable to hide the truth from him. “Quite a lot.”
You met his gaze for a few seconds before finding solace in your painting again.
“You know you can talk to me,” he gently said.
“I know.”
But you couldn’t. You didn’t want to have to tell him that this was all too much for you. That it was too quick, that you felt like you were stuck in a train aiming for a wall at top speed.
“I’m sorry,” he said after the silence had stretched so much, you thought it was about to rip the fabric of reality itself.
“What for?” you asked, genuinely wondering.
He leaned his elbows on his knees, pulling at some calluses on his palm that he got from working out without gloves on. “We haven’t really talked about the rumours.”
You hadn’t. Hadn’t even mentioned anything once, preferring to act as if it had never happened. Foolishly, you’d hoped that it would preserve your anonymity, even after it was gone. Even after the first fans stepped foot in your gallery, even after you’d seen articles about you in the press.
“Yeah.”
“Is that what’s on your mind?” he asked, and he turned his head towards you.
From this angle, it was entirely too hard to avoid his gaze. Instead, you latched onto it, hoping it would make everything better.
“It might be,” you said. You sighed, wetting your lips before you added, “It is.”
“How have you been feeling?”
You weren’t sure there was a way to answer the question. Because you didn’t want him to know just how bad the anxiety had gotten, didn’t want him to know that your life changing so much in such a short amount of time was the scariest thing that had ever happened to you.
“Stressed,” you answered, deciding to use a lesser word in the hope that it wouldn’t hurt him too much. “Especially now that the anonymity is gone.”
He nodded. “I was expecting that to happen.”
You cocked an eyebrow, but found yourself unable to say anything else.
“I’m sorry I took that away from you,” he murmured, and a flash of pain in his eyes told you that he really was.
That Kim Namjoon felt guilty when it came to you, more than he had probably ever felt guilty about anything in life.
“You didn’t mean to,” you reassured him. Because it was the truth – you couldn’t be angry at him for what had happened. You had been part of it just as much as him.
“But it’s still my fault,” he added. “It’s because of me if the media has been after you.”
“It’s not because of you.” You paused, searching for the right words to convey the meaning you wanted. “It’s not you as a person, but rather what you mean to the world.”
You slightly winced, convinced that you had somehow landed on the wrong words after all.
“Possibly,” he said. He sighed, before once again sitting back on the couch. His fingers twitched before he clenched them on his thighs, visibly resisting the urge to do something.
To touch you, you assumed.
“Possibly,” he repeated. “But it’s hard to separate the person that I am from the person that I mean to others. To me, it’s just me, both of these.”
You nodded, because you already knew that. Namjoon was authentic through and through, with everything that he did and was. With every single one of his words – he was a cool-minded reflective person, and it was one of the things you liked the most about him. Maybe because it was such a stark contrast from when he was young, blood boiling at any minor inconvenience.
Maybe because it was an anchor in an otherwise stormy life.
“I know,” you said. “And that’s why I don’t believe it’s your fault. You didn’t mean for any of that to happen. And neither did I.”
“Still sucks that it did.”
You’d never heard a truer sentence before. And it was rhetorical, didn’t mean for a reply. All that you could do was nod, gaze escaping from his to find your wriggling fingers in your lap. A new silence stretched between you, still as heavy. Heavier than gravity – was it going to form a black hole between you and him?
“What’s that painting you’ve been working on?” he asked.
You glanced towards the art. Observed the paler backdrop, the painting that you had started in Ilsan. Your anxiety had splashed swirls of darker blue over it, adding melancholy to it that you’d never really visited in your art before.
“Something to get my mind off the edge,” you admitted. “I’ve been trying to pour my thoughts into it. To escape reality for a time.”
Maybe it had been the wrong thing to say. Weeks later, you’d look back on this moment and realize that it was the catalyst to the destruction. But right this instant, you couldn’t even think past the words.
“To escape?” he prodded.
You nodded. “Don’t you use music as an escape?”
“Yeah,” he said, but somehow his voice was flat.
It brought your attention back to him, and you noticed his eyes on you. Noticed the grief that your words had instilled behind his pupils, hiding somewhere in the deep brown of his gaze.
“So I assume you must understand.”
He didn’t answer right away. Held your gaze as if time had stopped, and maybe it should have. Maybe time should have been kind to you and him, in its chronology.
“If you need an escape from this,” he said, motioning vaguely between you and him, “maybe we shouldn’t be doing it at all.”
Your heart stopped in your chest, turning cold. Anxiety flooded in, washing away everything that you once were. You felt naked, young, as if you’d gone back in time and were watching him walk away again.
“I never said I needed an escape from us,” you said, and the venom in your voice surprised both you and him.
“Are you happy right now?” he enquired. In a whisper, as if it was the scariest thing. And scary words could never be uttered too loud – wouldn’t they just break everything in their wake?
“I’m not sure.” You saw the flash of hurt on his face, and you quickly rushed to add, “I’m just so anxious.”
“I’ve been making you feel anxious?”
You shook your head. “No. Not you. The situation. The sudden fame. The spotlight and my art being sold at crazy prices. The fact that I have to worry about paparazzi, about what I do or say. It’s so sudden.”
Namjoon didn’t reply right away. Instead, he looked at you, gaze heavy with feelings you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Maybe it was understanding – because of course he’d understand what you were going through. He was going through it too, though he’d known this life for years now.
“I’m sorry I brought this to you,” he eventually chose to say, carefully. As if he was aware you were fragile glass right now, one wrong move and you’d explode into a million tiny little shards. “I can take it away easily,” he claimed.
You cocked an eyebrow, because was he offering you salvation? You highly doubted he could.
“How?”
He pursed his lips, features turning apologetic for a time. “We break up. We go our separate ways, I get the rumours off your back. No one’s going to be after you anymore if they think I’m with someone else.”
The loudest sound in the universe was your heartbeat, in that instant. It was so loud even your thoughts became distant little specks, unable to break the wall of sound.
“What?”
He sighed, shrugging. As if he was giving up, as if he’d given up even before he’d gotten here. “If being with me makes you so anxious,” he started. “And by that, I mean not me as a person. What I mean to the world, or whatever it is that you said earlier. If it makes you too anxious, I’m just going to remove myself from the situation.”
Were you stupid, for being unable to reply anything other than ‘what?’ again? Perhaps you were. Especially as he scoffed this time around, and something started aching in your chest, differently than it was before.
“I think it’s better for you if we break up,” Namjoon explained. When you remained silent this time around, he slowly shut his eyes, head hanging low. “I don’t think I could reassure you enough when it comes to your anxiety for us to be able to be together.”
Your heart felt as if it had slowed down in your chest, so much so that the world surrounding you turned silent, soundless. You heard the breath of air that you took in, cringing as it did nothing to ease the slowly rising panic in you.
“I don’t want us to break up,” you said, murmured, though the moment the words crossed the threshold of your lips you realized that perhaps this had been what you were aiming for all along.
“I can’t date someone that gets so anxious just because they’re with me,” he answered, and he looked truly apologetic. Guilty too, as if he had committed the worst crime humanity could witness.
And perhaps breaking a heart truly was the worst crime out there.
It felt unlike Namjoon. You’d gotten the impression that he was someone reliable, someone cool-headed who’d be able to support you, to help you go through your anxiety. But as you stared at him, sitting there on the couch in your studio, you realized that he, too, struggled with his own anxiety. Had probably struggled with a lot of it in the past, so much so that he couldn’t afford to put himself in a situation where he’d only get bad again.
The only solution appeared like a dark cloud looming over the horizon of your conscience. You wished wind could blow it away, wished you were strong enough to manage your anxiety without losing him, but you knew it’d be easier once he was gone. Knew your sleep wouldn’t be as troubled, knew you’d be able to dwindle away into anonymity once more.
You had to let him go. For your sake, mostly, but for his too. Because he deserved someone who could shine with him in his spotlight, someone who’d be able to accept all of him, including his fame. And that just wasn’t you.
“Namjoon…”
“It’s hard for me too, you know?” he added. “To watch the person that I love getting worse every day, knowing that I’m the cause of it. Y/n…” he paused, and this time he was the one to look away. “I haven’t even seen you smile in weeks. Ever since the rumours.” He shook his head. “Even before that. I’m not sure you’ve been happy since we started dating.”
“That’s not true,” you declared, trying to put as much conviction in your words as you possibly could. “I was happy in Ilsan. I was happy when we came back, too. It really is just the sudden fame that’s been throwing me off.”
You were relieved you’d finally found words to explain your anxiety. And somehow, them slowly falling out of your mouth eased the anxiety, eased the fear.
But you knew you were going to let him go.
“Then we take a break,” he continued. “I don’t want to be the source of something negative in someone’s life. We take a break, let the rumours dwindle away, and when it’s safe, we can try again.”
Your eyes blurred with tears. If he saw them, he ignored it, instead focusing on the calluses in his hands again.
“If that is what you want, I’m not going to force you to stay with me,” you said, voice small in the enormity of what was happening.
He scoffed. “What I want is just impossible. This is just second best.”
“Breaking up with me is second best?�� you asked, anger and bitterness swirling under the surface of your ache. “It’s that easy for you?”
He frowned, meeting your gaze again. “Who said it was easy?”
“You’re the one that claims it’s a good thing. Second best.”
At that, he rolled his eyes, slowly shaking his head again. “This is not what I meant.”
Maybe your anxiety was winning against you, maybe the knowledge that you had to let him go was stronger than anything else. Because you couldn’t watch him anymore. Couldn’t gaze at his deep brown eyes anymore, knowing that they’d become ghosts in your memory in just a few moments.
A few moments of breaking, of a glass heart dropped to a stone-cold floor.
“Then leave, Joon,” you said, voice unwavering even though you felt like ice was clutching your entire being. “Let’s take this break, let’s see if it’s better for both of us.”
The dark cloud rolled closer, engulfing you. Especially as he didn’t fight more. As he nodded his head, got up and motioned towards the stairs. As if that was enough when he was dropping you, giving up on you.
But weren’t you giving up on him just as much?
That night, you sat cross-legged in front of your canvas, watching the opened paint pots littering the floor around you. When your eyes slid back towards the canvas, a single tear escaped the confines of your eyelids, rolling along your cheek.
Deep brown eyes looked back at you, shining with their own unshed tears, reminders of where you failed in the timeline of your life.
*****
Thirteen years ago
You were going to kill Kim Namjoon. You would kill him, and be happy about it.
You’d heard from a friend of a friend that he had been hanging out with a certain Jeon Yuri, a beautiful, popular girl that had every reason to be liked by a guy like Namjoon. It was understandable – everyone loved Yuri.
Only, Yuri hated you. Always did, and took to insulting you in that covert way of hers that made people think she was complimenting them. But you saw right through her – you knew she was just a conniving rich girl. So you hated her back, with all the hate your little heart could summon.
To think Namjoon was hanging out with her? You’d kill him for it.
So you waited outside the gates of your childhood home for him to show up. You had been waiting there for a while already – partly because you needed to cool off, but also because you wanted to avoid your parents’ questions. Because obviously they loved Namjoon.
Everyone loved Namjoon, and everyone loved Yuri. You knew you were going to hate the both of them.
Namjoon arrived with a smile on his face, dimples flashing as if they’d get you to fold, to forgive him. To be fair, he did not know about your history with Yuri, as you never spoke about it to anyone. But when he saw your features, his smile immediately crumbled, replaced by worry.
“What’s wrong?” he instantly asked as he stopped in front of you.
“What’s wrong?” you repeated, before scoffing. “Why did I have to hear from Kim Haru that you’re hanging out with Jeon Yuri?”
His brows furrowed. “What’s wrong with hanging out with her?”
Your eyes widened and your fists landed on your hips. “Everything? She’s just a bitch.”
“Excuse me, what?” Namjoon let out, and you could tell by the reddening of his cheeks that he was already getting worked up too. “You told me to never call a girl a bitch and now you’re doing it?”
You rolled your eyes so far back you thought you could see your brain. “It’s not the same thing.”
He scoffed, in that condescending way of his that he always used when he wanted to win an argument. And you saw red. You saw blood red, scarlet like you were but a bull attracted to a flag.
“Don’t you fucking condescend me right now.”
“Don’t you fucking curse at me.”
“No seriously,” you continued. “I don’t want a guy who’s only after popular girls.”
“I am not,” Namjoon drawled. “I’m tutoring her and Park Seojin in maths. You already knew this.”
As a matter of fact, you did not. “You never told me.”
“Because you never listen to me,” he spat. “You’re always just drawing your fucking drawings as if that’ll lead you anywhere in life.”
“Kim Namjoon!” you burst. “And you’re always just going on about how you want to be a rapper. You’re a kid, dude, stop chasing after pointless dreams.”
He stepped closer to you, towering over you. You stood your ground, crossing your arms on your chest. “You’ll be sorry you ever said that. Oh, you’ll be so fucking sorry.”
“I don’t think I will. I don’t even think I’ll remember you.”
It was a low blow, and you could tell it hit him right in the gut. “You’re breaking up with me over such a stupid thing?”
“I’m breaking up with you because you’re a liar. You said you were with your friends, and then I learn that you were with Jeon Yuri?”
He sighed for a long time, shaking his head in frustration. “Oh, so this is really what it is about? Maybe there’s a reason why I didn’t want to tell you I was tutoring her.”
You scowled. “Why?”
“Because I knew you’d throw a jealousy fit. You think you’re entitled all of my time.”
“Fuck you,” you growled. “Fuck you. I have all the rights to be jealous when my boyfriend hides stuff like that from me.”
“Boyfriend? I thought you broke up with me.”
Your gaze slightly widened. “What?”
“I’m not your boyfriend anymore,” he said, adding your name like it was an insult. “Get over me already.”
“Do you even love me?” you replied, your anger suddenly dying down to be replaced with gut-wrenching pain.
But you knew better than to expect his anger to ever die down. It took forever for Namjoon to calm down, and you feared you had crossed a line tonight.
“Not when you get mad at me for no valid reason.”
His words hit like a slap to the face. “I just don’t like her. Can’t you tutor someone else?”
“No.”
The simple negation brought back a shade of anger to you, and you said, “Then perhaps we really should break up. Maybe I can find someone that actually respects me.”
“Because I don’t respect you?” he said, hands moving around his frame in anger.
“Clearly not.”
“You’re right then,” he continued. “I don’t respect you. I don’t love you either, apparently, so I’m done.”
“Joon…”
“No, Maehwa,” he said, and this time the nickname broke your heart in two, splitting it right in the middle. “You don’t say my name like that.” He slowly shook his head, seething. “As a matter of fact, I don’t want you to ever speak to me again. To ever look at me. I don’t want someone that acts like a fucking child.”
“You act like a child all the time,” you interrupted, but he ignored you.
He ignored you, in favor of turning around to walk away. You watched his back, before taking a step towards him, yelling his name again. He stopped, but didn’t turn to look at you. Instead, he said, “I’ll kill you if you follow me.”
You scoffed. “Oh please, as if you’d ever hurt me.”
“I’m serious, I’ll fucking kill you if I ever see you again.”
It felt enormous, to say such a thing. And perhaps youth was that – enormous in its drama. So you replied, “I hate you more than I hate anything in this world.”
He shrugged his shoulders, and then he walked away.
He walked away into the October night, and your cleaved heart shattered in a million tiny pieces.
☆☆☆☆☆
Read the rest of the fic here bc tumblr sucks and now we can't write posts longer than 1,000 blocks
#emotions of the soul#namjoon smut#namjoon angst#namjoon x reader#namjoon x you#namjoon fic#namjoon#knj smut#knj angst#knj x you#knj x reader#knj fic#knj#kim namjoon angst#kim namjoon smut#kim namjoon x reader#kim namjoon x you#kim namjoon fic#btswritersclub#life goes on series
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Can I request poly! Judgement Day x virgin fem! Reader?
Mixed with this request: TJD X female reader story where they're all just chilling at home (rest and relaxation day) and the day ends with the devils tango?
WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT!! (Condoms used, oral f&m receiving and giving, spit, fingering, vaginal penetration, choking, pet names, anal mentioned, praise, slight degradation, hair pulling)
A/N: Sorry its taken so long 😅
Word Count: 4,816
Reader's POV
As a pro-wrestler in a polyamorous faction, we took our days off very seriously. We didn't get many and even when we did get one, despite all being on the same show, the five of us were rarely all together.
Now, for the first time in almost two months, we all had the day off together. And we were going to make the best of it.
The first thing we all did together was sleep in. We had pushed two king beds together for one massive bed to fit all five of us when we moved in and we loved it. Not only could we all cuddle together at night, but it gave us more room for sex.
Having never been in a relationship before this at all, much less a poly one, I had been waiting to have sex with any of them. Just until I felt completely ready for it.
My other partners however, relished in the new amounts of space with each other. They would always reassure me that it didn't matter to them if I never wanted to have sex, so I've always felt very secure in my choices.
I woke up tangled in a mass amount of limbs. Being in the middle of four other people was usually wonderful but could also be suffocating at times.
Damian clung onto my back, his face pushed into the back of my neck while Finn clung to his. Dominik laid in front of me with his forehead resting against my chest while Rhea laid in a similar position as she spooned him from behind.
Taking a second to just breathe them all in, I snuggled back into my cocoon between Damian and Dominik and just enjoyed the moment. For once, there wasn't an alarm clock forcing us all to get up and leave, and all five of us were finally together.
"Mornin' sweetheart."
I lifted my head as best I could at the voice, still wrapped up tight in the boys' arms.
"Mornin' Mami," I grinned back.
"You want some breakfast? It's already almost 10:30." Rhea asked me, sitting up and beginning to stretch as her eyes roamed over the situation I was in and huffed a small laugh in pure amusement as I just stared up at her.
She began trying to gently pry Damian's hands from my waist where they were locking me in as she rolled Dominik over so he was also away from me.
"Come on! Get up!" Rhea playfully huffed as she grabbed my arm and began to pull me up.
Groaning, I made myself dead weight which only made her try harder to get me up.
"Can't we just stay here all day?" I pleaded, using my best persuasive voice.
"We can, but got to get some food in you first, my love."
Rolling my eyes I finally conceded with an "okay, okay, jeez" and let her pick me up to carry me out of bed so as not to disturb Dominik.
As soon as I was removed from his grasp, I heard him grumble his half-asleep annoyances before moving into the spot I'd just vacated and cuddling up to Damian who immediately wrapped his arms around him.
Rhea and I awed at them as she carried me out of the bedroom and to the kitchen. Sitting me down at the kitchen counter, she kissed the top of my head before walking over to the fridge and examining the contents inside.
"What do ya' feel like?" She asked, looking over her shoulder at me.
I hummed to myself in thought as I looked past her into the fridge. "Can I just have some yogurt and coffee?"
She raised a brow at me. "That's gonna hurt your stomach."
I just waved her off and gave her a big toothy grin as she rolled her eyes but gave me my yogurt and began making a pot of coffee.
Heavy footsteps padded down the hallway and before I even had the chance to turn around to see who it was, a large hand landed on the top of my head, pulling me into them.
A kiss was planted on the top of my head, with a mumbled "good morning" before I was released and the chair next to me was pulled out and filled in by Dominik.
"Mornin', Mami," He greeted Rhea sleepily.
She threw a small smile over her shoulder, bidding him a good morning in return before going back to what she was doing.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dom scrutinizing me from where he sat not even a foot away.
"What?" I asked him.
Instead of responding to me, he just frowned and leaned down, grabbing the leg of the stool I was sitting on and pulling it towards him so that the seats of our chairs touched.
"That's better," He mumbled to himself as he slumped against me, holding me tight as he closed his eyes in an attempt to fall back asleep.
My cheeks quickly heated as I looked over to Rhea in confusion, who was now watching us in amusement. She just shrugged at me before moving to the cabinet to grab some mugs.
I wrapped my arms around Dominik and began to lightly stroke his arm, tracing his tattoos.
Goosebumps began to spread out across his body underneath my fingers and he shivered, making me giggle. I cradled his head against my chest and gave the top of his head a kiss in apology.
His grip tightened on me and he snuggled his head further into my collarbone.
Rhea came over and placed two steaming hot mugs of fresh coffee in front of us, making Dom's head shoot up but his grip on me never faltered.
He stuck one of his knees in-between mine to keep me close as he reached out only one hand and grabbed my mug, beginning to cool it off by blowing on it.
Watching him do this simple little gesture of affection and care made me fall even harder for him. Once he had cooled it to what he deemed to be an acceptable temperature, he handed it to me, accompanied by a forehead kiss, before grabbing his own coffee and doing the same thing.
Sipping my perfect temperature coffee I just stared at him in wonder and love. In all the other relationships I'd been in since I was a teenager, no one had ever cooled off my coffee for me simply because.
He caught me staring at me and looked up at me with those puppy dog eyes mid-blow.
My cheeks flushed again and a ducked my head down, staring at my coffee to avoid eye contact.
I could hear both Dom and Rhea laughing at me but before either of them could say anything, Finn walked into the room, followed closely by Damian.
"Mornin' loves," Finn went around the kitchen giving all three of us a kiss on the head before seating himself at the head of the kitchen table.
I myself gave him a small grunt in greeting as I began to shovel my yogurt into my mouth so we could all go back to bed sooner.
"Woah, woah, woah. Take it easy, mi amor." Damian took the spoon out of my hand, forcing me to swallow what I already had in my mouth before taking another bite. "What's got you in such a rush?"
I stole my spoon back, receiving a quick frown in response as Rhea answered him for me.
"She just wants to spend the whole day in bed with everyone. But everyone else still needs to eat first too so slow down, babe." She reprimanded me.
Dominik stole my attention away from our girlfriend by resting his hand on my knee.
"I'm not hungry so once you finish we can go back to bed until everyone else is done, okay?"
Nodding happily, I took my time and slowly finished the rest of my yogurt, taking sips of my now lukewarm coffee in between bites.
Rhea made Finn and Damian some more coffee while Finn made the three of them a proper breakfast. Watching them just interact with each other as I ate my own breakfast made me happier than anything.
I sat and watched Rhea, swatting Damian's hands away from trying to take her vegemite away from her. And then Damian complaining that her kisses would just take like vegemite now, and her putting even more onto her toast.
She pulled off a bit of the crust with a much smaller amount of the vegemite on it, and handed it to me. I happily grabbed it and popped it in my mouth, thanking her as I enjoyed the Australian treat.
Of the four of us non-Australians I liked vegemite the most. Not anywhere near the degree that Rhea did, but I did like a small bit on occasion.
Once I had finished my yogurt, Dominik took my hand and helped me off the stool. I went and gave Finn, Damian, and Rhea, who had now joined them at the kitchen table, a kiss on the cheek before taking Dom's hand again and letting him lead me back to our bedroom.
Immediately I catapulted into the bed, scrambling to get under the covers and comfy as I possibly could be. I heard Dominik laugh at my antics before also jumping into the bed, landing right next to me as he also scrambled under the covers.
Fully enveloped in the blankets, we stared at each other in the dark, giggling like we were little kids hiding from our parents after doing something we weren't supposed to.
Dominik kissed me on the nose before rolling over to lay on his stomach, and I quickly followed suite.
Our whispers filled the bedroom as we huddled close together under the blankets, as if we actually had any secrets from the others. The others who would soon walk into the room and stop dead in the tracks at the sight of us underneath the blankets, our whispers having ceased the moment we heard them cross the threshold.
"Gee, I wonder where Dom and Y/n are!" Damian playfully exclaimed before immediately divebombing on top of us. Dominik and I both let out a grunt as the air left our lungs and the blankets were pulled back to revel Damian's grinning face.
"Whatcha' doing in there?" He waggled his brows at us, resulting in me slapping his chest lightly as a light blush coated my cheeks while Dominik giggled beside me.
I ducked my head down to hid my face but was immediately brought back up by Rheas fingers underneath my chin, only increasing the heat on my face as our eyes locked.
She grinned at me, leaning in to give me a kiss on the top of my nose before settling under the covers next to me.
Still blushing, I settled back fully under the covers, situating myself to now lay on top of her. My arms rested together on Rhea's plush tatted thighs, my head laid atop them as she massaged my head with her nails.
The feeling of her nails on my scalp soothed me and pretty quickly I was falling asleep. Not that I minded, as Rhea's legs are always the best place to fall asleep. However, I was rudely awakened not long after by Dominik calling for my attention.
I peeled an eye open, seeing Rhea glaring at him from above me and slowly pushing myself to sit up.
"What?" I asked grumpily. I heard Rhea chuckle above me before she started scratching my back with her nails, something I often did to the four of them as well.
"There was an update on your game!" He excitedly showed me, shoving my Nintendo Switch in my face. Disney Dreamlight Valley was a game I had started playing by myself a little while back as it was a very relaxing, peaceful, game. Dom and Rhea both wound up getting into it a bit as well and would play on my world just to get me more materials and money. If we weren't all playing together then sometimes they'd take my phone to help me level up as well as was the case currently.
"What? No way! It's not supposed to be 'til tomorrow!" I excitedly grabbed my phone back from Dominik and began looking around in the game and checking for updates. I heard Rhea make an "ooh" noise behind me and soon both of them had joined my world and were running around with me.
Finn and Damian posted themselves at the ends of the bed, Finn cuddling into Rhea with Damian into Dominik and me in the middle of them all. The TV turned on and the two eldest of the group began channel surfing, Rhea imputing her opinion every so often of what she didn't want to watch. In the end they settled on Tattoo Wars again.
For the next few hours, I just played my on my switch, while the TV played in the background, my partners surrounding me on both sides.
Eventually, my legs started cramping and my eyes burned from the bright glare of my screen. I put my switch to the side and slide down the bed, under the covers, and rolled onto my stomach. I laid my arms back across Rhea's thighs and began idly tracing her tattoos.
Her leg twitched, nearly kicking my own leg, as she let out an involuntary giggle from above.
The covers lifted above my head and I looked up, meeting her eyes. "What are you doing, bug?" I grinned up at her innocently, dragging my finger up her thigh again making her shiver.
Like a panther, quick as lightning she lunged for me and had me on my back with my hands pinned above my head as she straddled my hips. She gave me a grin of her own now as I was completely in her control. Or as she and the others liked to say, under her spell.
My eyes widened slightly and I could feel my core grow hot with lust as I stared up at her above me, her necklaces dangling in my face. All three of the boys had now stopped what they were doing and watched us from where they each sat around the bed.
Breathing became harder as each of us refused to break eye contact, her looks quite literally taking my breath away. She leaned down and grazed my cheek with a kiss, making me shiver now.
Pining my wrists together in only one hand as the other one trailed down to my exposed thigh. She trailed her finger up and down the center before inching her way towards the inside of my thigh.
On pure instinct, my legs parted, making way for her hand to do whatever it pleased. "Good girl." She whispered in my ear, pulling away to grin wickedly at me as the ends of her hair now tickled my face.
The small pool of wetness between my legs only grew with her words. Her hand began to tease the brim of my shorts as she lowered her mouth to mine.
I moaned into her, the taste of her vegemite toast still on her tongue as she used it to explore my mouth. My hips lifted up into her hand, chasing friction as she slipped under my shorts, tracing circles on my clothed core.
A gasp left my mouth at the sensation of her cool fingers on my hot skin. "Be a good girl for Mami and I'll give you what you want, hm?" She murmured on my lips.
I nodded as another gasp escaped me, putty in her hands as she rubbed circles around my clothed clit.
She sat back a little and looked around at the boys who were now watching us raptly. "Can the boys join in too or do you want them to leave?" Rhea leaned back down to ask me quietly, just in case it would hurt the boys' feelings.
"They can join." I replied, albeit shakily.
"You sure?"
"I'm sure." I smiled nervously at her.
She kissed my lips again, leaving me chasing after her as she pulled away from me, slinging her right leg back over my hips to sit on my my right side.
She moved the both of us so that she was on her knees, back against the headboard while I sat in front of her with my legs extended. She kept me there with a tight grip on my shoulders as Damian moved to be in front of me.
Rhea massaged my shoulders, her hands traveling up and down my arms sensually as I tried to focus on Damian in front of me.
He laid a hand on my thigh, the other hand coming up to cup my face. Leaning in, he placed his lips against mine. His hand on my thigh traveled up to the bottom of my shorts while one of Rhea's hands traveled down to cup one of my breasts through my shirt.
"Wait, wait, wait," I stopped, pulling away from Damian's lips.
All four partners immediately stopped in their tracks, whether they were touching me or not, and the ones that were pulled away.
"Are you okay?" Finn asked me in concern from the other end of the bed.
I nodded, "Yeah, um but...c-can we..."
Damian gripped my chin, gently tilting my head up to look at him. "Anything you need, Princesa. Just tell us what you want."
Blushing at the nickname, I wet my lips nervously before taking a deep breath.
"Can we use condoms? I know y'all usually don't and Rhea and I are both on birth control but I feel better with the extra protection."
"Of course carino, whatever makes you more comfortable." Dom piped up from where he now laid under Finn.
"Do you just want pregnancy protection or do you want me to use some too? 'Cause I have some in the drawer." Rhea questioned me. She still sat behind me on her knees massaging my shoulders and has now started up again.
I smiled at the genuine worry in her voice, truly willing to do whatever I wanted to make me comfortable. "No that's okay, babe. Just for the vaginal stuff with the boys. Everyone's been tested and hasn't been with anyone outside the group right?" I received four nods in confirmation. "Then I'm all good. Just nervous." I grinned up at her.
She grabbed my throat, forcing my head back even further, "Perfect. Just lay back and we'll do the rest."
She leaned over me and kissed my lips, still keeping a tight grip on my throat. Damian grumbled in front of me at the loss of his position and moved himself between my thighs. He hoisted up my hips, pulling my sleep shorts down and off my legs, my underwear entangled with them.
Reaching over to the bedside table, Damian withdrew three condoms from the drawer. He took one for himself and passed the other two to Finn and Dominik who were off to the other side of the bed but just close enough for me to reach them.
Rhea slid her lips down my chin, all the way to my throat, just under my ear and began her assault there, biting my skin only to lick away the hurt a second later. Breathy gasps left my mouth as she left her mark on me.
My shirt was ripped off my body for better access, my nipples hard and aching under her sensual touches.
A hand on my upper thigh made me turn my attention back towards the man in front of me. I'm met with the sight of his now covered cock standing stiff as he strokes himself, watching me and Rhea together.
A particularly hard bite makes me yelp at the same time Damian grips my thighs, harshly pushing them apart to bare myself to him. Sliding his hand up my thigh, he dragged his thumb up the center of my folds before leaning down and spitting right where his hand just was.
Upon seeing this, Finn and Dom both scooted their way over, moving around so each of them was sitting on either side of me. They each gripped a thigh and leaned down, adding their own spits to the mix.
And Rhea had no problem leaving my neck to move down and spread around the mixed spits of our partners with her tongue through my already soaked folds.
Without Rhea behind me now I was able to lay back on the pillows like she had told me to, as my partners all had their way with me.
I could tell they were still holding back a little and taking it slow though.
Finn and Dom were both naked now as well and I stroked each of their cocks just as Finn had instructed me to as Rhea fucked me with her tongue, using our partners' spit as lube. Damian watched over us all and positioned himself behind Rhea, pushing down on her upper back as she laid bent over on her knees before me.
He pushed her head further into me, making me moan aloud and squeeze the boys' dicks as well, causing them both to moan too. Dominik moved closer to my face and motioned for me to put his dick in my mouth. I did as I was told but wound up having a bit of difficulty still stroking Finn at the same time.
Dominik gripped my face in her hands, cupping right where my jaw met my throat. "Just focus on Finn, cariño."
I followed instructions and just focused on Finn as Dominik gather my hair in one hand, keeping the other hand cupping my jaw as he began to fuck my throat. "Tap my thigh if you need me to stop." He huffed out, continuously slamming his hips into me over and over again.
Not having to focus on two things at once now, I was able to stroke Finn faster, stretching my fingers down to knead his balls, making him throw his head back in ecstasy.
Rhea kept eating me out, fucking and sucking with her tongue until I was practically vibrating with the pleasure. She hummed onto my clit in amusement as my thighs squeezed around her head, only adding to the pit of fire brewing in my stomach.
I watched as Damian kneeled behind Rhea and, without a word, slammed himself into her, making her moan as she was thrusted into my pussy. When he had even taken her shorts off was a mystery to me.
Being the most unexperienced one there, I came first. My thighs clenched and shaking around Rhea's head as her metal tongue piercing swirled around my clit, being pushed and pulled into me as I watched from my vantage point Damian fuck her hard and quick.
"Fuck!" Dominik exclaimed right as he came hard into my mouth. Pulling out, he gave me the option to spit or swallow it.
I maintained eye contact with him as I swallowed it, the grip he had on my hair getting tighter as he watched it go down.
"Good girl, you beautiful little slut." He praised, kissing me on the mouth before pulling away and turning my head towards Finn.
Taking Finn's cock into my mouth, I set the pace this time as I felt Rhea dislodge herself from between my thighs.
I sucked Finn off until he abruptly pulled out of my mouth and came on my tits instead of in my mouth.
He grinned at me hungrily as he watched the liquid slide over and down my breasts, mixing with my sweat and making them shiny.
"Ah fuck!"
I turned and saw Rhea on her stomach just to the side of me with Damian still fucking her from behind, his hands holding her hips tight.
Just by the look on her face I could tell that she was coming pretty hard. I bit my lip as I watched the two of them together.
Damian moaned and gave one last large thrust as he also came into the condom he wore, still inside of Rhea. He head was thrown back, his eyes closed but when he turned to look at me it was like there was no one else in the world.
"You wanna get in on this?" He questioned me, moving away from Rhea to take off and throw away the condom. I nodded eagerly and awaited my instructions.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see Dom and Finn already back on top of each other, kissing each other like their lives depended on it while Finn fucked Dom.
"What do you want then, sweetness?" Rhea breathily asked me as she pushed herself up.
My face grew hot at the nickname. She hadn't called me that one before and it caught me off guard, not to mention, I was too embarrassed to tell them I wanted her to sit on my face while Damian fucked me blind.
Sensing my nervousness, Damian reached out and tucked back the strands of hair stuck to my forehead with sweat.
"Y/n, I promise you, whatever you want is totally okay with us. We've probably done it before anyways," He smiled at me. "Just tell us what you want so we can make you feel good."
I sucked in a deep breath, before just speed-running my words. "I want Mami to sit on my face while you fuck me."
"That, we can do." Rhea grinned cheekily at me. Gripping my shoulders she gently pushed me down to lie flat in my back, throwing some of the extra pillows behind me to the floor for more room.
My hands reflexively gripped her thighs as she swung her left leg over my hip. Smiling down at me, me began making her way up my body until she was directly over my face.
She stroked my hair as I held onto her upper thighs for dear life. "You ready?"
I nodded, the more than perfect sight of her bare pussy over top of me more than enough to steal my breath away.
Rhea leaned on the headboard with one hand while the other stayed entangled in my hair as I felt Damian put my legs up so my knees were in the air.
I felt him situate himself between them, gripping my own thighs for support as he rubbed his cock up and down my pussy.
Rhea turned back towards him and gave him a nod but before I could ask them about it, Rhea spread her knees out and rested all her weight on top of me, while Damian simultaneously inserted himself into me, straight to the hilt.
My back arched in ecstasy as Damian began to pound into me, the same way he had to Rhea. I kept my tight grip on her thighs to keep myself grounded as I reveled in the sensations from both partners.
Rhea's grip on my hair tightened when I stuck my tongue into her cunt, making me go deeper and faster than I thought I could. Keeping one hand on her leg, I brought the other one down to rub on her clit.
I could feel Damian doing the same thing, thrusting into me as he drew circles on my clit making me moan into Rhea's pussy, only adding to her own pleasure even more as she grinded down on my face.
Soon, I could feel both of our thighs beginning to shake on the verge of orgasm as well as Damian's thrusts beginning to become erratic.
With a final thrust of both tongue and cock, all three of us came, shaking and panting.
As soon as Rhea was able to move again she removed herself from my face, resulting in a whimper from me as her slick stuck to my chin, strings of it connecting the two of us as she pulled away.
Feeling a weight that wasn't Rhea on my stomach I looked down to see Damian's exhausted head lying on my lower belly. I smiled and ran my shaky fingers through his hair, a smile tugging at his features as sweat shone on his skin.
I didn't even notice Dom and Finn's absences from where they had been next to us until Finn was holding a wet wash cloth and making Damian get off me. He kissed my thigh before spreading them apart again and starting to clean me up.
I smiled at him in thanks, still at a loss for words as my head rolled to the side, watching as Dominik cleaned up Rhea.
"I think I'm ready for actual food now." I announced. "And maybe a shower," I scrunched my nose in fake disgust, watching as my partners all looked at me like I had hung the moon.
"Actually, I'm thinking we have a girls only bath time, hmm?" Rhea responded, holding out her hand for me to grab.
Once my hand was enveloped in hers, she led me off the bed and into the master bathroom, locking the door behind us to the annoyance of the boys.
That night started me and Rhea's tradition of taking a bath together after every group session. Not only because we both despise being sticky, but because it also gives us a little bit of girl time after being with all the guys.
Which 90% of the time just led to more sex between the two of us. The boys don't need to know that.
#the judgement day#the judgment day#tjd x reader#the judgement day x reader#the judgment day wwe#wwe#wwe raw#rhea ripley#rhea ripley x reader#dominik mysterio#dominik mysterio x reader#finn balor#finn balor x reader#damian priest x reader#damian priest#the judgment day x reader
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Mammon Nsfw Alphabet
Cw: Heavy Size kink, ownership, Poly mentions
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Mammon is the king of aftercare; he'll gladly provide anything you want, even if you don't like it. Having your small body against his chest? He would love to! Bruises in bite marks on your skin? He always keeps bandages and first aid in every room, just in case. Does your smell body smell of his cum and sweat? He'll have his servants draw a warm bubble bath with your favorite scented items. And he'll be with you the whole time purring praises of how much he loves you and how good your water and charcuterie board filled with meats, cheeses, and crackers, as well as sliced fruits are always a must. He'll even hand-feed it to you if you let him.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Your ass, thighs are close second but what he really wants is those soft plush cheeks right above that he just can't keep his hands off.
Your cheeks are so lovely and warm, especially when they burn red from his handprint.
It's so soft and inviting. It's just calling him in his teeth into it. You're so small your little ass fits perfectly in his hands. And he could hold you while slamming you down right on him.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He doesn't care if he feels you up or covers you and cum he gets that same satisfaction that he is marked you as his. If he had to choose one of the other he would say covering you and come It's a demon territorial thing. Especially when he's coating your backside and having cum land on your ass.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Guilty is charged for him buying you certain clothes that just do happened to compliment your ass or any part of you he finds sexy (which is every part). But he has to be more discreet about it since any provocative outfit you would decline.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Mammon in his 'youth' of his first millennia of being king he had many concubines, before you and even Solomon. He had grown tired of each one and no longer has them, now you are the only one in the world from heaven hell and earth he wishes to court. He hopes you're satisfied with his vast experience ;)
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Mammon likes positions where he can grab, hold, or press against you. He especially likes the positions that emphasize how small you are compared to him. He likes holding you up against the wall and slamming into you; He likes looming over you, His giant mountain of a body covering your entire field of vision. He likes showing off his whole body while drilling you with each punishing thrust.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
In the middle, He likes to tell you how cute you are like this underneath him; He likes to talk to you while he's serving you with his mouth and fingers. He likes to flaunt how much wealth he can give you when he is sliding the head of his cock up and down your entrance.
He's not that goofy but he does talk a lot.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Mammon I would say naturally would have a fair amount of drapes with a happy line, but he will groom in any way you want him to You want more hair than he'll grow it out, You wanted to be shaved? Gladly! His body is yours.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
What he loves doing is making an impression, He loves to impress and flaunt like a proud peacock, Grand gestures and displays of his love. Romantic dinner dates that make you feel like royalty. He will make you feel like the most important thing in the world because you are.
He'll rent out resort in Abyssos for a Valentine's Day gift
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
As much as he wants to save his cum for only you, He thinks about you so often he can't help but have his hand play with his cock. To see your ass swaying alone makes him want to fuck you. But he will absolutely let you know that when he touches his cock it's only for you He's thinking of nothing else then how much he craves and desires you.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Other than your ass, or anal He has a lot
Size Kin,k: is one of his most significant, tiny, fragile humans who does so many things to his perverted mind. He wants to take care of you, hold, hug, kiss, and carry you. At the same toys, he wants to break you like what he used to do with his sex toys. He loves loves loves watching his huge cock struggle to fit in your tiny hole. He loves forcing your legs apart to go even deeper. He loves your screams and cries of how big he is on, how he's tearing you apart, and how he can't fit anymore. He will make it fit... He always does. Nothing in the world made him come the fastest then watching your throat bulge with his big cock.
He doesn't quite understand the word 'cuteness aggression' But he does know 100% for a fact he gets that with you.
Creampie: something about his inhuman amount of come running down your thigh turns the infernal part in his demon brain on.
Ownership/pet play: if you want a dog, He's on his knees, no question. Do you want to be his pet? Get ready for the role, as it is a perfect little thing. You do know the safe word, do you? Don't worry he treats all of his pets with great care. He doesn't want you to be in a collar; oh no, he wants you to be utterly naked until he finds an outfit for you. You will be nude in his lap at the next meeting as his big hand is placed on your head, scratching it. He will revel in the jealous, envious looks from All of the Seven Deadly Sins. He will especially like Asmo biting his nails, which gives him a nasty glare.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Any location he damn well pleases, with a snap of his fingers any place no matter where can be a location where he could bend you over the nearest object. He prefers to do it in clean locations because that's what you deserve. But if You want to be taken in a dirty alleyway who is he to deny you what you wish.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
You, You wearing his things; You sitting in his lap; you with those big doe eyes staring at something you saw in a shop. Other kings that brag about fucking you (Beel). That big smile on your face as you exist at your best.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Anything you wouldn't want him to do, if you have turn offs then he has turn offs. If you're not enjoying anything then he isn't enjoying it. All his pleasure comes from your pleasure.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
As much as he loves your tiny throat around his cock, He prefers to give oral. He wants you to break down on his tongue as he rings out every orgasm he can.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Slow and sensual at first, then fast and rough. You're a tiny human, so he must wait a bit for you to adjust to his sheer size. It's okay. He likes the fact that you can feel every throb, twitch, and vein of his meaty cock.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Oh my god yes, quickies King of greed loves quickies. He's greedy He wants to get most out of his day if he has the small amount of time to fuck you he will, Even if he doesn't get to cum that doesn't matter He could be in and out of meetings or business appointments and he could be fucking you in the hallways or just before the meeting start. He could have you just sitting in his lap in his office.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Risk? Is it really risky if he owns everything?? He is one of the most powerful men in all of hell if he can't win it in a fight he will buy it. But if it's sexually experimenting then yeah he'll do anything you want to do
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He has the stamina of a God; Even if he finally goes soft it'll only lasts for about 30 minutes before he wants more.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
After MC explains what a dildo actually is I'm pretty sure he starts having a collection of toys, from vibrators to bondage to gags, He also has a nice array of collars. He definitely likes collecting them especially because it's one of the very few things he doesn't own.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Nope He doesn't tease, He doesn't mind being tease. When he wants something and he doesn't like to not get it It just makes him more eager to have it in the end
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He's not the loudest devil king. But he isn't quiet either, with mostly growls then moaning or groaning. She does like to chit chat though. He can't stop talking about you, praising or degrading.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
The only devil king that doesn't mind sharing you because that means you're more greedy. And who could he, Mammon, be one to deny such greed? Everything is his in the end; Satan, Leviathan, Beelzebub, Lucifer, belphigore, and even Asmodeus. and since he naturally belongs to you All these kings are yours too.
That doesn't mean he'll give you up easily to another devil. He'll make sure that he is The most willing and eager to serve.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Hole resizer 9000, uncut and is a grower.
His balls aren't as swollen or as heavy as Lucifer's But still pretty big
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
He isn't as insatiable as asmodeus or Beelzebub. But probably won't just be satisfied after one fuck.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Nope, He has enough energy, But if you fall asleep then he will go to sleep with you if not he'll just tuck you in, or either lay beside you and read a book. This man will not leave your side
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"One-Sided, One Receiver"
pairing: alastor x fem!reader
synopsis: Alastor has taken you in under his wing after being mistreated by the vees. Vox tries to confronts you about your feelings for Alastor in hopes that you come back to work for him. His plans of course backfire.
warnings: MDNI fuckin tentacle porn, alastor is fully clothed, no pp for you to see sorry, alastor and his dirty mouth, praise kink ig? fingering
word count: 1.7k words
a/n: my first time writing this kinda thing, please spare me. Also thank you to @rubra-wav for the cute divider omg. and my two favorite in character smut authors @hazelfoureyes (my hazel basil) and @jyoongim giving me the courage to do this ✨️🙏
You've worked with Alastor going on years now. He had taken you under his wing after the treatment you received under the control of the Vees. It was well known they weren't the nicest overlords around but they knew how to sell.
You were Vox's little plaything in more ways than one. He had you pegged to be a pretty good spy and information gatherer. Of course, your mission was always to look for signs of the Radio Demon for his whereabouts. Alastor was very meticulous and every clue left for you was purposely placed, and you knew that. And because you knew that, you never bothered to inform Vox of the very little "information." In which came at a cost of your job and nearly, your life. Vox often underestimated Alastor's smarts. Their own egos constantly bumping each other in the head.
The night you lost your job, you were found outside the Vees' tower, horribly bruised and broken. Hands clutching at the brimstone dirt to try and stable yourself in some way, you saw a pair of black boots standing in front of your face, the demon's cane setting down on the ground.
"Well my dear, it looks like you finally received Vox's boot." He chuckled in amusement and offered a hand to you to help you off the ground. "I'm impressed with how you've gone about finding my little clues, not many have managed to connect them back to me."
With your hand still in his, you two disappear into his shadow and find solitude in a different part of Pentagram City, away from the Vees' territory.
"I have a deal for you. Well rather a job." He states conjuring up a needle and glowing green thread along with a small first-aid kit. He talked his way through his prompt while mending and sewing your wounds. You accepted and that was that.
The years you've worked along side him he's been quite kind to you. Despite not trying to be, he was a charmer. Your feelings for him changed over time. You often caught yourself doing things you never thought you would for the Radio Demon. The man you were convinced to hate in your previous employment. You'd bend over backward for him if you could.
The role he gave you was to do exactly what you had done for Vox in the past. There was never need to leave his side for you to gather whatever information he needed so you never looked suspicious. You looked more like an assistant or an apprentice.
No matter what you looked like you were doing, Vox was deeply displeased. How dare you escape his grasp and go kiss Alastor's ass. It was insulting from both you and the Radio Demon.
There was more to your companionship that meets the eye. While Alastor was an oblivious man, Vox saw right through you. It was clear to him you had fallen in love with the radio demon. And with the way Alastor has reacted to confessions in the past, the TV man knew exactly how to ruin your relationship with each other and potentially along with the contract that was signed.
Checkmate.
"What are you doing here, old pal. Don't you think you are on the wrong side of town." Alastor's body was facing away, Vox's presence clear from his heavy breathing. His attempt to stay calm and collected.
"I am here to offer Y/N's job back." He stood up straight, folding his arms behind his back and turning his unfazed gaze to you. "I'm willing to raise your pay by a substantial amount if you come back to me."
"Not a chance, Vox. After the way you and the other Vees treated me? Go to double Hell." You spat at him, your eyes full of disgust and turning your body away from him.
Vox's smile creeped further up the screen, wholeheartedly expecting that to be your answer. The wrong answer. The one to ruin you once again.
"You come back to work for me and I won't tell Alastor your dark little secret. You get to stay in his good graces and I get my favorite little employee." He held his hand out to you. Alastor's silence completely deafening as he zones in on the strange conversation. What could you possibly do to fall out of his good graces, he thought.
Your expression faltering slightly before returning to it's stability. Was it that obvious? Did everyone see your feelings like an open book? He was unfortunately right.. if Alastor knew how you felt he'd probably ditch for another 7 years. Either way the outcome of this would be you trapped in the hands of the Vees once more. "You're confused Vox. I think you should take a break from all that porn."
"Do not pretend to not know what I'm talki-"
"I think I've heard enough, Vox. If you are referring to her romantic feelings towards me, there's no need to inform me. I already know." Alastor finally stepped out from behind you to stand in between the two of you. "The only difference here is that she has not forced those feelings upon me in which I quite respect. She will not be going with you."
Alastor tapped his cane on your back to turn you around and continue your walk. You give one last glance at Vox behind you, his face obviously fuming in embarrassment before disappearing into Alastor's shadow with him and reappearing in front of the Hotel.
You two stood in front of the doors in silence. Not really awkward just a little stunned.
"Sir.. you knew?" Your head was looking down to his shoes, scared to look him in the eyes.
"Dear, do not be embarrassed." He placed his cane under your chin, watching your eyes shift from the ground to his own. "I'm willing to make another deal with you if you allow it. This will be a one time thing. One night of your pleasure and you will give me your soul. Your services will belong to me for the rest of your immortal life."
Not to long after that were you in his radio tower. His shadowy appendages wrapped around your ankles and wrists, your ass resting on the buttons of his desk. You were already in the nude and he still sharply dressed. "Let's get a few things clear, darling. You will not touch me whatsoever, no I will not remove my clothing-" He spoke in the midst of taking his coat off and hanging it up on the hook to the side of the desk. He carefully rolled up the sleeves to his dress shirt before turning his attention to you, continuing his sentence. "and do remember to make noise. I need this to be amusing for me as well."
The appendages snaked up your thighs, softly maneuvering themselves through your folds. Spreading your slick everywhere they could reach. Your shut eyes tightened underneath his delicate touch. Another pair of his tentacles made their way up to your face, pulling at the sides of your mouth, making you open your lips. One slipped inside your wet cavern, lapping up the saliva around your tongue. Moans now starting to slip out as it started to fuck your mouth, spit dripping down the corners of your lips.
"Now that's my good girl." Alastor's cold digits made their way to your clit, rubbing in rhythmic circles, eliciting a well earned gasp from your throat. Not rough enough to jump start an orgasm but enough to be quite pleasurable on it's own. What pretty sounds he thought. Your legs tensed at his praise, his voice. It was deeper and more staticy than normal. Seemed he was enjoying himself more than he'd like to admit.
Removing the tentacle in your mouth, he replaced it with his own mouth. Your heart fluttered at the way he moved his lips against yours. Not exactly how you fantasized your first kiss with the Radio Demon but you'll take it. You groaned into his lips, grinding your hips into his steady going fingers. "Alastor.. please. I need you inside me." Heavy breaths passed between each word that escaped your mouth. This was your part of the deal so he was willing to give you whatever you wanted. Within reason of course.
The extremity wet with your juices slid up and down your cunt, spreading you as much as possible before slipping into you with ease. It wasn't his dick but dear god did it feel good nonetheless. Some boundaries had to be made after all but you were grateful for his generosity no matter what he offered. It's pace started off slow, simply trying to make it's way to your cervix before anything else. His lips still continuing to massage yours, going back and forth between licking your neck and kisses.
He was making every piece of your body vibrate with excitement and pleasure. Alastor's pace speeding up once he finally hit the end of your vagina, nearly making love to your cervix. His fingers began to abuse your now sensitive clit. It didn't take long before that long awaited tightness started to form in your womb. Your breath hitched and various parts of your body twitched, letting him know that you were approaching your end. "Are you going to cum for me, my dear? My precious apprentice."
With one last bite to your shoulder, you came undone on his tentacle and fingers. Continuing to rub you through your high. Your head rested against his shoulder allowing you to control your breaths back to normal. All his dark restraints dissipated, letting you free.
Alastor licked his fingers clean and rolled his sleeves back down, grabbing the coat he hung up and placing it back onto his shoulders. "Now I do believe you need a bath. Feel free to use the one in my room. Be back down stairs in an hour, we've got business to attend to later."
And with that, you now belonged to him in heart and soul.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin#the radio demon#alastor hazbin#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel fandom#hazbinhotel#alastor imagine#alastor#alastor smut#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel smut#alastor x reader#alastor fanfiction
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Have I earned it, mother? Chp. 1
Pairing: Avis Amberg x reader
Summary: Miss Stinton is sick so now you are Mr. Amberg's secretary and on one cold December night you go to your boss's residence to hand him some work only to be dismissed by him. Without a car to return to the studio you find yourself being driven by his gorgeous wife and finding a certain amount of work benefits that you hadn't even dreamed of in the form of Avis Amberg.
Warnings: smut (+18), affair, swearing, oral (Avis receiving), fingering (Avis receiving), a bit of praising kink as well as mommy kink, power play, pet names, tit play (sorry, I'm an absolute sucker for them)
Authors note: I wrote this at two o'clock in the morning, so please, be gentle but tell me If I need to be more graphic, if I'm lacking on something, because it's been a moment since I last wrote smut, and I might be a bit rusty. Also, if it gets enough love, and if I feel like it, this might turn into an actual multichapter story. I am here for you, my dear people. Also available on Ao3. Finally, let's thank Patti Lupone for giving us Avis Amberg.
Chp. 2 Chp. 3 Chp.4 Chp.5
Word count: 10K (it's fucking long, but I'm not sorry)
Have I earned it, mother?
It was fucking freezing and yet you walked all the way down the street with that thin coat of yours barely doing anything to keep you warm all because Miss Stinton was out sick, so you were her substitute. Miss Kincaid had asked you personally to be Mr. Amberg’s secretary until the poor woman was able to return, so you were doing double the work without a raise in your salary. Running up and down the building to assist Miss Kincaid while doing whatever Mr. Amberg asked of you had you practically forgetting to have lunch most days, with only a snack in your purse that you would have while in the bathroom, getting to work at six am and leaving at nine pm. This surely would kill you if Miss Stinton didn’t return soon. That’s how on an extremely cold night in December you found yourself walking from your car, another thing you would have to fix as it had just given up on you mid ride, all the way to the Amberg residence per your boss’s request carrying a bunch of scripts and documents that suddenly he needed at ten o’clock on a bloody Friday.
Finally getting to those big front gates you rang the bell. For over ten minutes no one came and there was a moment when you thought that perhaps you were at the wrong house, or it all had been a joke and Mr. Amberg was in fact out and you had just taken documents from the studio for nothing. Your train of thought was broken when you looked up and saw an older man unlocking the metal gates and opening them up for you. He smiled kindly and in the light of the streetlamps you saw that his face was adorned with gentle wrinkles around his eyes and his short moustache was trimmed, a greyish tone that matched his face. Without a word he walked you to the front door. You had been to the house very few times, mainly in the last couple of weeks but the mansion still amazed you. It had a Mediterranean look to it that you adored, a nostalgia for home that you had to push away every time you crossed those gates. The big oak doors stood before you, the man leaving you with a single nod and another smile before the darkness of the night swallowed him whole. With shaky hands your index finger rang the doorbell, your body moving to the side slightly out of habit, almost as you expected people to walk out of the home.
Noises at the other side made you grip the papers harder in your freezing hands before Gertie pushed the heavy doors open. She was gentle and kind and showed you in without so much as a gesture of her right hand, closing and locking the doors once you were inside the hallway. Like the well-behaved employee you were you stood until you were directed towards the living room. That was new. Up until that moment you had always been shown to Mr. Amberg’s office, sometimes he was there, others you had to wait until he arrived, so being escorted by Gertie towards the living room was a total surprise, not that you were complaining. Anywhere in that house would be good enough for you as long as it had some sort of heating system. Coming to stand under the threshold you saw your boss, still wearing his suit, resting comfortably in an armchair with a glass of what you suspected was whisky in his hands. He didn’t even lift his gaze towards you, simply thanked his maid and told her she could retire, that they would inform her if they needed anything. You took a step forward and when he didn’t stop you, you made your way to the coffee table that rested in front of him and placed all the documents for him to see.
He groaned at the sight but didn’t reprimand you, which you were thankful for. There was silence for a few minutes as he nursed his drink all while you stood on the side unsure what to do, where to go. He hadn’t even made an attempt to look over what he himself had asked you to bring, and that bothered you, but you bit your tongue. You were a well-behaved employee after all, Miss Kincaid had said it many times, and you would remain so. The silence was disturbed by the entrance of Mrs. Amberg. She really did fill up the space with her confidence and exuberant energy. Your eyes shot from the sight of your worn shoes to her as she walked in, a beautiful deep salmon dress hugging her figure in all the right spots, the lace sleeves embracing her arms as the bodice wrapped around her torso creating a plunging low cut neckline that showed off her full chest, the skirt flowing swiftly around her legs, her red hair curled and pinned in her usual updo, not a single strand out of place. It amazed you to say the least the way she was always so perfect, it made you feel like you were just a speck of dirt on her carpet, with your thin coat, old worn shoes and cheap dress that definitely needed the hem to be fixed. Not even your long hair could compare to hers. You always ended up with broken elastics and your dark golden locks running down your back all the way to your ass. Right now, was one of those moments when your elastic decided to give up on you, like your stupid car, the sharp pain hitting the back of your neck as it snapped, bringing a pained gasp out of your lips as one of your hands made its way to the back of your head.
The noise made both Mr. and Mrs. Amberg turn their heads towards you, but you were oblivious as with your thumb and index finger you took hold of the elastic and tried to untangle it from your hair. Mr. Amberg was quick to pick up the first script then, not giving a single fuck, not that you expected him to, all while Mrs. Amberg kept her eyes glued to your form as you pushed your hair over your shoulder to your front to finally get rid of the bloody elastic. Once that had been accomplished you pushed it over your shoulder once more before putting the broken item in your pocket and looking around the room. By the drinks was your boss’s wife pouring herself a martini all while still looking at you. Those deep brown eyes held an air of power and a certain level of longing that threw you off for an instant, but it was as if they were hypnotic, as if you could not stop staring until she took a sip from her drink and your eyes travelled to her plump red lips. No one should look that good with red lipstick. A grunt coming from Mr. Amberg broke the spell as you turned your head towards him watching as he stood from his armchair, script still in hand and began to walk out of the room.
-Miss Y/L/N, tomorrow I want you in the office. Tell Miss Kincaid that I will have you at the studio all weekend, because these scripts are shit and I need you to fix it.
-Of course, sir. Is there anything you would like me to do in specific?
-Fire this Mr. Conrad and have Jonathan fix his shitty text or he’ll be next. Understood?
-Yes, Mr. Amberg.
-Ace, Christmas is this weekend, are you really going to…
-I don’t care if it’s the President’s birthday. – you had never seen your boss talk to his wife in a such a manner before, and it made a sudden anger rise in your body. This lady, perfect in posture, glamorous in fashion and beautiful in looks had tried to look out for you and all she got was a biting remark from the man that was supposed to love her and cherish her. You had never wanted to stand before Mr. Amberg acting as a shield for his wife ever before, but you knew better than to stand between a couple. You bit your tongue instead. - This is bullshit. Go ahead Avis, read them, you’ll be wiping your ass with these pages in under five minutes. – he threw the script across the room so it would land at his wife’s feet before turning his face towards you. - Fix it Miss Y/L/N, or you will welcome the New Year without a job.
-Of… Of course, Mr. Amberg. I’ll get to it immediately.
-Good. Take all this back to the studio.
-Including miss Crandall’s contract?
-Yes. I’ll take a look at that some other day. Honestly, why did you bring so much stuff girl, as if I would read it all on a fucking Friday evening.
-I’m sorry Mr. Amberg. I should have been more thoughtful.
-Yes, you should have. I’m going to bed; Gertie will show you out.
-Of course, Mr. Amberg.
In all that time Mrs. Amberg, Avis, had not uttered a single word, she had simply watched it all unfold while sipping her martini. She must have thought you were a fucking twat, answering her husband as if he was fucking Lawrence Olivier, but what else were you going to do? Once he was out the door you sighed and began to pick up the documents from the coffee table before you were kneeling at Mrs. Amberg’s feet to pick up the script. Her shoe, a beautiful cream coloured stiletto showed from underneath her dress, coming to stand over the pages, preventing you from picking it up. Confused you lifted your head to look at her. She was watching you intently as she took a sip of her drink. Honestly, was that drink like being magically refilled or had she at some point poured herself another and you hadn’t even noticed. Either way, the rim of the glass was stained by her red lipstick and her deep brown eyes raked over your figure. After a minute of having you like that she lifted her foot allowing you to finally grab the script and stand. You could smell her rich perfume as she walked closer to you, the aroma filling your lungs making the air around you all too expensive.
-You are eager to please my husband are you not? – the question wasn’t asked with malice, simply with a tone of curiosity as she circled you. It felt as if you were prey and she was a predator, hunting you, waiting for the right moment to strike and kill you.
-I am his employee ma’am; I simply do my job.
-Is that what they call it nowadays? I must tell you that he’s not really that good in bed and whenever he gets tired of you, he will dump you and not look back
-I have not slept with your husband Mrs. Amberg.
-Is that so? Then why are you in my home at ten at night on a Friday?
-Because Miss Kincaid asked me to fill in for Miss Stinton. I would never sleep with him ma’am; I won’t disappoint those who think I am capable of doing this without using my body to achieve it. Not that he has ever shown an interest Mrs. Amberg.
-Never? – there was a tone of incredulity that caught you by surprise, almost as if she thought her own husband was a fucking imbecile for not throwing himself on you. She sat gracefully on the couch crossing her legs, her eyes watching your rigid form over the rim of her glass as she took another sip.
-Never. I’m nothing like you ma’am. He doesn’t even bother to look at me when addressing me. I believe tonight has been one of the very few times he’s done so.
-What do you mean by you are nothing like me?
-I don’t have your personality, your beauty, your style ma’am. I don’t know you, but what I’ve heard is that you are a strong, confident woman and anyone with eyes on their face can see that you don’t lack in the beauty department either. Why would he want me when he has you?
-You are such an innocent kid. – sadness had tainted her words and a shadow of it had crossed those deep oak eyes of hers as they watched the transparent liquid in her glass instead of you. You knew Mr. Amberg had had affairs; for fuck’s sakes many of your female colleagues had shared an evening or two with him, but now that you had his wife sitting in front of you, you could not understand why he would stray like that. Something in your heart and your mind wanted, no, needed for her to believe that she was exquisite even if her own husband could not see it. Over her eyelashes she stared at you once more with an intensity that made your breath hitch in your lungs. - I believe you really haven’t slept with him. You are too good, but you let him walk all over you.
-I need this job. Bills pile up and rent and various expenses that I’m not sure how I’m going to face. I’m sorry if you think I’m a foolish idiot who’s kissing your husband’s ass, but I can’t afford to be fired. Perhaps I’m overstepping with the way I’m addressing you Mrs. Amberg, but you must understand that as much as I like my job, it is still a job to me. A way for me to get money, and If I have to overwork myself, I’ll do it. I’m only a secretary after all, it’s not as if I bring creativity or joy to the world.
-How many times has he done this to you? Asked you to stay late or taken the weekends from you.
-A few.
-And now you’ll miss Christmas with your family because he can’t wait until Monday to fix his own problems.
-I’m alone here Mrs. Amberg, and I don’t have the money to go home, so I’m rather grateful for the work. I’ll be too tired to actually think about the holidays. I should get going, walking to the studio is going to take some time. – placing all the papers a bit better under your arm you began to walk toward the side of the couch before she grabbed your wrist, stopping you. It felt as if she didn’t want you to go, as if she didn’t want to be alone by the way her eyes practically begged you to stay.
-Don’t you have a car?
-I do. It’s on the side of the road. It has just broken down. That’s another expense that I have to add to the list. I really must go now, have a goodnight Mrs. Amberg. – she let go of your arm and with surprising agility she stood from the couch coming to stand right beside you, looking at you as if you were mad. Well, there went the concern, out the window, you thought for a moment before she spoke.
-You are not going to the studio by foot in this weather and alone at night. Do you want to get kidnapped or murdered?
-It’s perfectly alright Mrs. Amberg. I’ve done the trip before, and nothing has ever happened.
-Just because it hasn’t happened those other times it doesn’t mean it won’t happen this time. I forbid you from walking to the studio at night ever again. I’ll drive you.
-I cannot ask you to do that ma’am.
-Good thing you are not asking. Come on.
There really was no room for arguing, not that you were planning on it. The way she had spoken to you wasn’t how a mother speaks to her daughter, no, there was something different in the way she carried her form as she commanded you. No one had ever talked to you in such a way, with such worry and concern while at the same time dominating you with only words. It sent a shiver down your spine, and all of a sudden, the room was warmer than before. Having her turn around until she was right in front of you, her face barely a foot from yours, before handing you her half-finished martini, didn’t help one bit. Without thinking you rose it to your lips, downing it, letting the alcohol bathe your mouth and throat, tasting the carmine of her lipstick on your own lips before leaving the glass on the coffee table. Her pupils dilated at the sight; her breaths slightly irregular as she followed your graceful movements. This was something new to both you and her. Avis could watch you do anything if it meant getting this reaction all the time, the way her body heated, yearning for you, while you held her gaze like a professional temptress as your lips touched the glass over the mark of her own lips.
Before anything or anyone could break the spell, she grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the hallway. Gertie was somehow waiting there. You began to wonder if this woman was a psychic because in her arms she had Mrs. Amberg’s coat. It must be a normal thing though, because she picked it up and placed it over her shoulders before dismissing the maid, grabbing her purse and keys from a little table next to the doors. Unlocking them she stepped out and you followed her without a second thought, still seeking the warmth of her hand on yours as if her skin was a drug and you were completely and utterly addicted. Making your way to the black Cadillac that you had seen her drive every once in a while, she didn’t wait for you before hopping inside, the top protecting the leather of the seats from the cold. Making your way to the other side you did not see the way her eyes racked over the shape of your body, accentuated by that thin coat of yours, her hands on autopilot pulling a cigarette out of her purse before lighting it, letting the smoke of her first puff fill up the car for a moment before it vanished as you finally sat down beside her.
When Avis had seen her husband arrive home without even throwing a glance at her she had thought her evening would be just like any other. Boring, unsatisfied, exactly like the day before and the day before that one, but now she had you in her car. For once she was the one who had a pretty lady all to herself, and the things that were crossing her mind, the ideas she was getting of what she might do to you brought a naughty smirk to her lips. For once she was the one who was going to get lucky, and this time she was not going to pay a single pretty penny for it if your reactions were anything to go by. With her right hand on the ignition she turned the car on, pulling the gear shift down and beginning to move, her left hand bringing the cigarette back to her lips, inhaling the nicotine deep before letting the smoke out her mouth and nostrils giving you a side glance as the car stopped before the gates. The rumours and stories about Avis Amberg could not compare to seeing her in real life only a few feet from you, as the red carmine left a mark on the cigarette, watching the smoke twirl around her face, in between her eyelashes, as it vanished into nothing when it touched the ceiling. You had never known of someone that could be this intoxicating even before you knew them, that could send tingles and shivers all over your body, that could send sparks over your flesh with a single touch of her hand. When the gates finally laid open Mrs. Amberg began to drive out into the road, her eyes glancing over your figure every few minutes.
-Do you always stare so intently at people?
-What? – you hadn’t realised just how much you were staring, your body practically turned in her direction, but you needed to take her in as much as you could, from the curls in her red hair to the veins in her hands as she held onto the steering wheel. A blush crept up your cheeks as you averted your gaze onto the window observing Hollywood at night, with its blinding lights, even in winter. Your grip on the papers had become harder.
-I asked you if you always stare at people so intently.
-I… No. I don’t think so ma’am.
-Good, I wouldn’t appreciate receiving such a treatment only for you to give it to others as well.
-I didn’t mean to… I apologi-
-Did I say I didn’t like it? – her tone was deep, thick as honey and husky in its undertones, the temperature in the car rising by the second as you once again glued your eyes to her face. She had such a characteristic profile, with such a distinctive and exquisite nose. You could drown in every inch of her skin if she’d let you, and something was telling you she might. Her left hand brought the cigarette back to her lips, puffing the smoke in your direction as if she was testing you, seeing how taken you were with her. You inhaled the smoke as if it were the last bits of air left in the universe which brought a smile to her face, her pupils dilating ever further before her eyes travelled back onto the road.
-No.
-Then keep on staring doll and you might get special treatment from me. Sure, my husband employs you, but I can offer advantages that he wouldn’t even read before signing.
-I don’t need privileges, Mrs. Amberg.
-Such a devoted worker. For once I believe my husband to be a fool for not trying anything with you but I’m also glad he has not tainted you with his stupid charming words and empty promises. You, my dear, will get anything you want as long as you keep staring. Because you like what you see don’t you?
-I… Mrs. Amberg…
-Answer the question doll.
-Yes.
The smile now was utterly triumphant and so utterly filthy as well, as if she had won a secret award, you being the prize. You hadn’t realised that your thighs were pressed together tightly until you felt a cramp on your left leg. You tried to relax your legs, feeling how much this woman was truly affecting you. It was sinful, but you didn’t give a single fuck, the woman next to you was perfection, an absolute temptress and somehow you already knew she had plans for you even before she had voiced them. You wouldn’t say no to her no matter what they were though. You hadn’t realised how close the Amberg residence was to the studio until the car stopped before the gates, Mrs. Amberg rolling down the window to talk with Jimmy, the security guard in charge of the front gates, the woman taking one last drag of the cigarette before she flicked it onto the road beside the car. Putting the car in first gear Mrs. Amberg drove and parked expertly in her spot before turning the vehicle off.
The redhead turned her body completely towards you then and as much as part of your brain was yelling to move away, a very small part of it in fact, the rest told you to stay put. She liked the fact that you were so eager to have her in your personal space. Her right hand was on the back of the seats while her left one was now holding onto the steering wheel. Her fingers ghosted over your arm as she pushed her body closer to yours, her hand raising towards your face until her fingertips were tracing the shape of your cheek and jaw leaving a path of goosebumps, a delicious shiver extending all over your body as her perfume now filled your entire being, every cell in your body.
-So receptive. And you really want me to believe you are all alone? No boyfriend?
-I never… I never looked for one Mrs. Amberg. Too much trouble.
-On that I agree. – her face was so close to yours you could have counted the spots in her deep irises had there been a little bit more of light in the parking lot. – These reactions are all for me and only me then?
-Yes ma’am.
-Good. – her stand never faltered, her hand never stopped caressing your skin, her thumb dancing over your lower lip. Her pupils had practically overtaken her entire eyes. The rush of heat you had been feeling since she had walked into the living room was skyrocketing by now, your underwear sticking to your thighs as you pressed them together involuntarily. She was so affected by you and yet she seemed as cool as a bloody cucumber, as if she was used to turned people on and then leaving them to fend for themselves. You hoped she wouldn’t do that to you. - You have to leave those documents in my husband’s office, don’t you?
-Yes ma’am. In specific drawers, or he won’t find them on Monday.
-And have you never wanted to sit on his chair, on the couch, alone or… with company?
-I… I…
-So easily flustered. That blush suits you, honey.
Suddenly she was no longer in your personal space but exiting the car leaving you about to faint from how worked up she had got you in such a short period of time. It was insane. Clumsily you opened the car door, closing it gently as you rested over it to control your breathing. You could swear that by how hot you felt you should be giving off steam in that freezing weather. Mrs Amberg began to walk towards the building without glancing back at you because you both knew she didn’t need to know whether you were following or not, you were practically her shadow. At this time of night no one was in the premises, and by the look of things the security guys were very far away from the main building. Mrs. Amberg was in her element, the confidence and power that poured out of every pore in her body was intense, you could almost feel it as she made her way to the elevator. It surprised you though how utterly patient she was being. You had been told many many times before that this exuberant woman didn’t like to wait and did things whenever she wanted, however she wanted, and she didn’t take it lightly when she was forced to wait. The Mrs. Amberg that stood beside you as the elevator doors closed was toying with you, feeding of your reactions and moving extremely slowly around your persona.
That was what you thought until she pressed you against the wall, her right hand resting next to your head while her left one had a bruising grip on your hip, her body pressed against yours, although you could not feel her fully because of the damn papers that were still in your hands. Her face was right on your neck, breathing in your camomile shampoo and your berries shower gel, her lips ghosting over the skin of your neck until the ding of the fucking elevator echoed inside the cabin and you were left with a single peck of her lips under your jaw. It made you gasp; it made you crave more; you needed more of her. Her hands on your hair, over your hips, her fingers tracing every inch of your body, her lips kissing every inch of skin they could. You wanted to unravel her, unwrap her like a Christmas gift until she laid bare before you. You wanted to do so many things to her and yet she pushed her body off yours as soon as the doors opened and walked out. You were still for a minute before following her hurriedly, the hallway you knew like the back of your hand empty, no voices, no noises to disturb either of you. Miss Stinton’s desk was empty expect for a notepad, a pencil and that fucking phone that somehow never seemed to stop ringing when you were sitting in that chair but that remined silent when she was there. But you didn’t care about any of that, not when Mrs. Amberg had pushed the doors to her husband’s office until they were wide open before grabbing your hand and pulling you inside.
The slamming of the doors made you jump, both out of sheer arousal and because it kind of caught you by surprise how loud they were, though Mrs. Amberg didn’t give you much chance of dwelling on it, not when she peeled her coat off, throwing it on top of the couch and signalled for you to follow her towards the big desk. She rested over it, her backside pressed against the edge as you stepped towards her with shaky legs. She pointed towards the coffee table and then at you and for half a second you were at a complete loss as of what she wanted until you saw the papers, in a slight disarray and barely in your hands, and you were quick to dump them there before turning back to her. She wanted your full attention, and you were going to give it to her. Raising her hand, she motioned with her index finger for you to move towards her, your feet barely making a sound over the carpet that decorated the floor until you stood a couple feet from her. Her chest rose and fell in laboured breaths, her full breasts practically battling the bodice of her dress, her eyes avid with hunger watching you as if you were the most exquisite being that ever graced the earth.
-Tell me, Miss Y/L/N, do you want what I’m willing to give?
-Yes.
-Yes, what?
-Yes ma’am.
-And you are willing to do as I say? – she took one step forward. You could not trust your voice, so you simply nodded, but that wasn’t good enough for Mrs. Amberg. She grabbed your face, her lips inches from yours, sending a rush of heat between your legs. This certainly wasn’t how you had pictured this night going, not that you were complaining. – Use your words doll.
-Ye… Yes ma’am.
-Then you, Y/N L/N, are mine.
It was heaven, she was heaven, of that, you had no doubts. Her lips, soft, full, and so very delicious crashed onto yours, her hands shooting to grab you by the hips to keep you secured in place. At first it was only her mouth pressed against yours but in five seconds flat she was pushing her tongue over your lips, asking of you to open your mouth, which you did, gladly. Her taste, sweet and sour, mixed with the traces of the martini she just had, and the nicotine of her cigarette were an intoxicating mix that made you hum and moan gently against her mouth, your hands jumping to touch her shoulders until the settled on the back of her neck, your fingertips touching her soft hair. Her tongue dominated over yours, the urgency and need seeping from her core to her kiss, you on the other hand were simply exploring, taking in everything she was indeed willing to give. There would be time for you to dominate her if the occasion ever arose again, perhaps maybe even tonight. Breaking the kiss when your lungs began to scream for air you latched your lips onto her jaw, feeling her lull her head back, exposing her neck fully to you as you licked and sucked the skin gently; no need to have her husband find a hickey and go absolutely ballistic. Scraping the skin under her earlobe with your teeth brought on a gasp, the grip on your hips harder, her hips pressing harder onto yours. Your hands travelled slowly down her back bringing your palms to press firmly on her ass, squeezing as you sucked a bit harder on her pulse point. The mix between a gasp and a moan that escaped her lips was like music to your ears.
-You’ve done this before. – her voice was so thick with arousal that it had dropped into a low, husky tone. Separating your lips from her neck you stared at her heatedly.
-I said I hadn’t looked for a boyfriend, not that I was a nun. Ma’am.
That simple sentence sent a jolt of pleasure straight to her core, her hands pressing you impossibly closer to her as she claimed your lips once more. This kiss was fucking explosive, her tongue battling and tracing every inch of your mouth, her teeth scrapping and nibbling your lips, bringing out a groan as you twitched under her grip. Clumsily and without breaking the kiss you pushed her back until her ass was resting over the edge of the desk, your hands pressed flat over the wood. Pulling away you bit her lower lip, showing her that you could also be bratty, if that’s what she desired, a moan parting her mouth as your lips returned to her neck. God, this was a whole fucking new level of desire for Avis. Those boys at the gas station did show her a good time, but she paid them for it, with Ernie it wasn’t always a question of money, and he was most certainly the best of them all, but you had barely started with her and she already practically dripping. She felt your hands travel back up her back, your lips nibbling on her earlobe, pulling gently, sending a shiver down her body before you began to trace the shape of her jaw, her neck, sucking on her pulse point again, her eyes rolling back for a second at the feeling. Your hands moved underneath her arms until they were pressed over her stomach, though that wasn’t where you wanted them, no, you pushed your fingers under her breasts, feeling her hurried breaths as your lips kissed over her exposed collarbone, and yet you wanted more, needed more.
Gentle fingers traced the fabric of her dress, over the top of her breasts, raising goosebumps all over her skin before you pushed the material of her gown aside, revealing the top of an ivory corselette, lace cupping Avis’s breasts. The sight was to die for, her full bosom so perfectly dressed in white, begging to be released, begging to be touched. You would take your time with them, drive her mad with lust until she could not stand it anymore. Kiss by kiss you traced the shape of her collarbone, whines and whimpers breaking the silence that filled the office, your tongue darting out and licking the jugular notch in the middle of her neck. Avis’s hands shot from your hips to your head, one pressed against the back of your neck while the other wrapped itself among your hair, pulling softly as if to encourage you to carry on. Painfully slow you kissed and scrapped the skin of her chest, licking the marks to soothe them before you finally reached the swell of her left breast. The skin was soft, so very smooth under the touch of your lips, the freckles that painted her skin so faint in this light that you had never thought her olive kissed skin could be sprinkled with such beauty. As you continued kissing and sucking the top of her breast your hands travelled to her shoulders pushing the dress off her frame and down her arms, leaving her only in her corselette from the waist up. And what a sight she was in white lace.
Her right hand grabbed your face before you could carry on tasting her delicious skin, bringing your lips to hers. God, her kisses were the most wonderful thing in the universe, her taste, the way she sucked on your tongue. Suddenly she pushed you away from her, and for a moment you were afraid she had changed her mind, but her lust filled eyes quickly reassured you that that was not the case. You had left small red marks all over her, nothing that would bruise, but the sight of her breasts practically spilling from her strapless corselette, her heaving chest and flushed skin was enough to nearly send you over the edge. The way your knickers were drenched under your dress and coat should definitely be studied because you were sure your own arousal should be dripping down your legs at this point. You were fucking boiling now, not having bothered to undress yourself at all before you had begun to please her, so before Avis could command you again you shed your coat, throwing it onto the floor. The sight of you in your tight dark blue dress was approved by Avis, who drank you in like a castaway lost in the desert as they found an oasis at last. Without uttering a word, she pointed at the floor in front of her feet, the gesture of her hand as commanding and domineering as her voice could be. And you obeyed. You knelt before her, watching her as she bent forward and grabbed a fistful of hair, pushing your head back.
-Undress me.
She barely whispered against your lips before she stood at her full height observing you through her thick eyelashes. You didn’t waste a single second as your hands found the hem of her dress, lifting slowly to reveal cream-coloured stilettos adorning her perfect feet as well as a pair of gorgeous shapely legs underneath, dressed in silk nude stockings. Beginning at her ankle, you kissed the skin of her left leg, moving upwards leaving a trail of pecks until you reached her knee. After licking behind it you lifted it off the ground placing it over your shoulder as your lips carried the path of her thigh. The room was filled with gasps and quiet moans, that as soon as you began to kiss along her inner thigh, the dress bunched around her waist, turned into throaty ones. It was amazing how soft her skin was and even more so once your lips actually made contact with her flesh above the lace of her stocking, where the garter clipped it in place. Her breath hitched in her lungs as your mouth came so very close to where she needed it the most, a mewl of disappointment escaping her lips as you knelt again, letting the skirt fall back into place. She was about to complain when she felt your lips on her right leg, the words dying in the back of her throat. Fuck, you were good, better than any of the men that she had had in the gas station. Reaching her inner thigh once more you were rewarded by a string of moans and her hands threading among your soft locks. Your right hand grabbed onto the bunched-up fabric, pulling Avis of the desk, dropping her leg of your shoulder but keeping them open for you, tugging the dress down her hips and onto the floor.
Then and there you took the chance, and sucked hard on her inner thigh, making sure you would leave a mark. She didn’t reprimand you, quite the opposite, she moaned loudly, her nails scrapping your scalp making you groan, the vibrations practically reverberating through Avis’s body. Pulling back, you observed your artwork, brushing your thumb over the red spot before lifting your head to look at her. Her brown eyes had been glued to you all that time, her lower lip in between her teeth. She pulled you up by the hair, bringing out a painful yelp that was quieted down by her lips crashing down onto yours once more. As much as you loved to explore her, you needed to see her loosing herself, you needed to taste more than just her neck and legs. Lifting her off the floor you sat her on top of the desk, a surprised yelp echoing inside your mouth, the kiss never breaking until your hands pushed her body backwards. She was now curious, you were taking liberties, not that she was complaining, and she wanted to see what you could do with that mouth of yours. Bringing her left leg over your shoulder you made quick work of the clips, rolling the stocking down her leg, leaving sweet pecks over the now exposed skin. Removing her heel the silk ended up on the floor, but you didn’t throw the shoe away, no, you wanted to see her in those stilettos as she came over and over again. Placing her leg back over the desk you repeated the action on the other one, finishing off with a kiss to the arch of her foot as you placed her shoe back in place. Now that her legs were free of any fabric your fingers traced the shape of her muscles, scraping your nails over her thighs as you bent forward and sucked on her soft skin again. Her hips buckled under your ministrations and yet you were unbothered by her needy whines. Avis Amberg would lose her mind tonight, if only briefly if you had a say in it. Paying attention to her left leg you made sure she had a matching bruise in her inner thigh, sucking harder to see if you could make her moans any louder. You succeeded as the noise practically echoed off the walls and yet it felt so very little to you. Satisfied, relatively, with her legs you climbed on top of the desk, your knees parting her legs even further, but before you could bend forward Avis placed a hand on your chest, stopping you.
-Take that dress off. Now.
You were thankful for the fact that you had decided on wearing a dress with buttons on the front instead of a zipper in the back. You hopped of the desk, your eyes never leaving hers as she propped herself on her elbows taking in every little movement you made. Your slender fingers undid each button slowly, observing how her chest rose and fell with her ever-growing arousal, until the fabric hung loosely of your shoulders. You let it fall, watching as she groaned at the sight of you in a beautiful pair of black lacy knickers and matching see-through bralette, your own heavy breasts fighting to escape the garment. Around your waist was a garter belt that clipped a pair of black nylon stockings. The sight of you in that outfit sent a whole new wave of pleasure down to her core and with cat like grace you climbed back onto the desk. She didn’t fight you this time as you bent over her frame, your chest pressed firmly over hers as you claimed her mouth once more your hands travelling down her sides until you felt the flesh of her firm ass, pinching and grasping it, drawing out whimpers and whines that you swallowed as you refused to leave her lips. Needing air once more you traced the shape of her neck once more, now a little surer of what spots she preferred, feeling the vibrations of her moans as you sucked over her right collarbone, her fingers once more pulling on your hair. Licking the perspiration layer that had began to collect all over her skin you made your way to the corselette, licking the valley between her breasts.
The garment, as beautiful and erotic as it was, was now an obstacle, and with skilled hands you unclasped the first hook, watching as Avis’s eyes snapped open as she felt the pressure on her breasts lessen. God, each hook you undid was an inch closer to you finally being able to do something about that ache that had settled in between her breasts, the need to have your mouth on her. It was utterly hypnotic to see you so concentrated in each hook, drinking in every inch of skin that the garment freed. With the last one finally out of the way you pushed the corselette open, freeing her full bosom for your eyes to see and by George, they were so deliciously beautiful. Without a second thought you dove in between them nibling and licking as your hands fondled them with care, unsure how sensitive they might be to your ministrations, not wanting to hurt her. You kneaded the flesh gently, drawing out such beautiful gasps and moans out of Avis, simple confirmations that what you were doing was exactly what she wanted. Her hips buckled onto your abdomen, nearly begging for you to take it up a notch and you did. Fuck if you did. Your mouth bit down on her left breasts, making your way to the rosy perky nipple, which you popped into your mouth, twirling it and sucking. Avis screamed in surprise and pleasure, her head falling backwards onto the desk, eyes closed, her hips buckling so hard upwards that they nearly sent you falling forward on top of her, but your hands resting on top of the wood prevented it. You sucked, hard, one of her hands shooting to the back of your neck to keep you in place as she moaned and gasped, her breaths coming in so fast you worried she might hyperventilate for a second there, lifting your head to observe her, liberating her nipple with soft pop.
At the loss of contact she opened her eyes and glanced down. The look of worry in your deep eyes melted her, and she graced you with a kind smile, her other hand caressing your cheek, bringing you back up to her lips. This kiss was nothing like the previous ones, filled with passion and desire, it was gentle, caring, it was almost loving, and to the both of you meant the world. The feeling of her now less raggedy breaths as she pecked your lips bathed you in such warmth and love that it could have drowned you and you would have gladly accepted such fate if the last thing you had seen had been those brown eyes filled with kindness. Separating your lips you rested your forehead over hers, both her hands caressing your cheeks. But the lust was still there, and it was not going to go anywhere, yet the trail of kisses that you gave her on her forehead, her eyelids, the tip of her nose and both her cheeks before pecking her mouth were ever so soft. Your lips left feathered touches down her neck and in the valley between her breasts before you attacked her right one, that you had neglected earlier. This time you were rewarded with hums and contented whines. Finally popping her nipple in your mouth, you licked and sucked gently until you grew tired of how quiet she was being and so you bit down making her scream loudly, her hands once more on your head as you twirled it in your mouth. With your left hand you began to knead the now neglected left breast, pinching the other nipple, massaging the soft flesh. Fuck, your hands and lips were magical, and what you were doing to her breasts was absolutely maddening and yet she didn’t want you to stop.
Releasing her right nipple from your mouth you sucked under her tit, harder than you should, but you hardly thought anyone would see a hickey there, except for Avis herself. Now that her abdomen was also free of fabric you licked the taunt skin there, tracing each stretch mark your eyes could find with your tongue, the unique salty taste of Avis a wonderful flavour in your mouth, your hands now fondling lazily both of her breasts as your mouth came to kiss her lower abdomen, right where the waistband of her white lace knickers were. You felt her breath hitch when with your teeth you began to pull them down as you didn’t want to stop touching her tits, but she was lost in every sensation you were giving her, and you could not undress her if you were still in between her legs. You hopped of the table, releasing those fucking amazing plump breasts, much to your dismay and Avis’s, but you had a brand-new mission. Pressing your hands over her hips you caressed her flesh before placing your finger under the waistband, but the sight of her propped once more on her elbows watching you intensely, tits free and ever so alluring and beautiful rising and falling with each husky breath, her chest and cheeks flushed a deep red, her once perfectly coiffed curls now lose from her updo here and there, gave you a new idea. You bent forward, your ass up in the air as your lips kissed her inner thighs, but you didn’t like the position she was in, you wanted her sprawled out, wide open for you and so you bent her legs, placing her stilettos over the wood of her husband’s desk.
Now she was a sight to be reckoned with and you dove, delightfully in between her legs, kissing and licking her inner thighs getting closer and closer to her centre but never really there, her moans ending always in a frustrated huff before you switched onto her other leg. Maybe if you got the chance to do this with her again you would tease her and see up until what point you could get her before she took matters into her own hands, but today you would give her what she desired. One swift lick over the fabric of her knickers and she dropped onto her back with a loud bang and even louder moan, her hips buckling onto your mouth out of their own accord.
-Fuck!
At last, you were getting decent moans, loud and so utterly sexy as you kept moving your tongue up and down her slit over her underwear brushing purposely your nose against her clit drawing out even louder grunts now and holy shit, you were now really dripping down your legs. You needed to fully taste her. With two fingers hooked over the waistband you pulled them off her legs, her eyes half lidded observing you as you dropped them beside you after giving them a good long lick. She moaned at the sight. Fuck, she really was gorgeous fully naked sprawled before you with nothing but her cream-coloured stilettos on. Taking her in for a moment you traced the shape of her hip joint with your fingers before bending once again. One long lick and Avis’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, one hand shooting to your hair while the other one tried to hold onto the desk above her head as you worked you magic tongue around her. She was addictive, salty and so very delicious as you moved it in between her folds, each moan that you were able to draw out of her louder than the previous one as you felt her movements become more erratic. Travelling upwards you gave her clit a well-deserved suck, her pelvis thrusting upwards onto your face.
-FUCK! God! Y/N.
Another suck and she was nearly utterly lost, screaming your name once more, her hips buckling even if you were trying to hold her in place with one of your hands, but she was not there quite yet and you were sure you could give her the push she needed in about ten seconds flat. Two fingers inside her and you practically threw her over the edge and yet you didn’t feel her walls clenching around you the way you wanted them, no, you had to give her more. Moving slowly at first you were so gentle, curling them ever so slightly driving her insane as she whined your name in between pants.
-Please, Y/N, faster.
And who where you to not obey. Lapping your tongue over her once more you moved from pumping your fingers at the pace of a snail to pumping them hard and fast, and curling them until you could hit that sweet spot inside her every single time. And she screamed, so loud that you were sure if anyone was outside the building they could hear her.
-YES! FUCK! DON’T… DON’T STOP, DON’T STOP! FUCK!
One precise grace of your teeth on her clit followed by you sucking hard and she came loudly and all over your face, but you drank her, every drop of her delicious juices, forcing her legs to remain open as you carried on with that punishing pace, her thighs trembling and her hips trusting into your face, your tongue circling her overstimulated bud without a second thought. She had not even come down from her first orgasm when you were already building the second one, and although at first her hand had tried to push your head away by pulling your hair, she was now pushing you closer and closer if that was possible. She needed that release; she needed you to carry on fucking her like that. Her entire body was on fire, stars dancing over her eyes, the coil in her abdomen growing bigger by the minute but that tongue of yours was doing wonderful things to her and she wouldn’t fucking stop you now when she was so close already. She wanted your head buried between her legs forever. You pulled on her clit as her pants became less raggedy, earning a pull on your hair and several screams.
-YES! YES! DON’T… FU… AHHHH…
Pumping your fingers nonstop, practically slamming into her, every single whine and pant turned into screams that escalated at a speed that even surprised you, her walls clenching around your fingers as she fell over the edge once more. Her second peak had her arching her back of the desk so much you nearly thought she would sit on it, screaming your name as if it were every answer to every single question in the universe but you were not done. She had another one in her, you were sure. And so, you added another finger, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. You could draw out this second orgasm and practically throw her into a third one if only your arm could hold on a little longer and not falter in pace and strength. Her hips were meeting each thrust you gave her and every moan, whimper and pant now mixed into such a guttural sound that you weren't even sure if she would be able to scream, but you carried on in your relentless marathon, sucking her clit and lapping at her folds as your fingers curled and pumped once, then twice, and at the third one she didn’t see stars she saw the entire fucking universe as she came, utterly overstimulated, eyes rolled into the back of her head, back arched of the desk and thighs trembling so much you were sure she would suffocate you.
Her juices gushed out of her at first, but you carried on at the same speed, thrusting your fingers into her, and after a few seconds she squirted all over your arm, face and chest as she released the breath, she had unknowingly been holding screaming so loud that you were sure she would be hoarse tomorrow. You did not slow down until she stopped dripping, drinking every single drop once more, letting her come down from her height at last as gently as you could kissing her thighs, running your free hand over her soft skin as your fingers began to drop in pace. Her walls clenched still around your fingers, but after a few seconds, or perhaps it had been a minute her body fell back onto the desk, absolutely exhausted, only twitching every once in a while, still she was clearly too out of sorts for you to begin a conversation. Carefully you pulled your fingers out earning a disapproving whine from Avis still she did not move, trying to get her breathing into a normal rate. Her legs had dropped over the edge of the table, thighs clenched together now that you were no longer in between them. Watching her like this, so utterly spent and still without looking at you worried you and so you climbed onto the desk right beside her letting your clean hand caress her cheek. She did not pull away. Her eyes, still carrying a shadow of ecstasy opened, and those deep forests stared back at yours, a happy smile gracing her lips as she watched you.
-You, Y/N are quite something. – her words were tainted with desire still, but you would not subject her to another session so soon. The night was young, or as young as she wanted it to be, and if she was willing to wait for a bit until she was ready again, you would give her several other orgasms. But right now, you were content enough with watching her in that absolutely wonderful post climax state. - With a tongue like that I am able to say that my husband is an utter imbecile.
-I thought you would not want him to sleep around Mrs. Amberg.
-Oh, doll, after what you just did you can call me Avis. And well, I don’t, but I’m not willing to give up on someone like you, so he can keep on fucking as many girls as he wants.
-Someone like me?
-Yes. You are quite magnificent, and I think I would very much want to repeat this. So, this can be just sex, or we can let it become whatever we want. – her fingers lazily played with a lock of your golden hair, her body still twitching every once in a while after all three orgasms in one row was something she had not experienced in years. - Up to you, doll.
-I know we are not even acquaintances, but I can assure you that the sight of you utterly naked and so open for me is something I’m not willing to give up either, Avis.
-So just sex? – was there disappointment in her voice? Maybe you were hearing things, still so worked up and needing release of your own, but you had not intended your words to sound so superficial. This woman should be adored both in bed and out of it and she clearly wanted something more than just a dalliance.
-No. Let this be whatever it’s supposed to be. You are the most exquisite woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on, and if little me is enough for the grand Avis Amberg, I will not disappoint. Besides, I still have a lot of stamina left in me, and there are many many surfaces in this office that I can make you see stars on.
-Good. As for those privileges I mentioned earlier, I’m sure we can discuss a raise, amongst other things, but from now on you are to only please me, and if you are a very good girl, I will please you.
-Have I earned it, mother? Have I pleased you?
-Mother? – perhaps you had not given her enough credit, because by the look in her eyes she was very much ready to go already, and the nickname only added to her desire to ravish you. – I like it, and my good girl has definitely earned it.
She climbed on top of you crashing her mouth onto yours as she once more held the power over you, the control she so adored. She was going to fuck you senseless just like you had done with her. Perhaps she might visit you on Christmas if Ace was drunk enough or somewhere else other than the house, earn herself a holiday orgasm and a date even. She could take you dancing, she could spoil you rotten as long as you looked at her with that marvellous adoration that you had carried in your eyes since she had entered the living room. You moaned in her mouth as she bit on your lower lip, her hands lost in your hair. This was most certainly not the plan she had had for this evening. It had been much fucking better.
#avis amberg#avis amberg x reader#lilia calderu#lilia x reader#patti lupone#we thank miss lupone simply for existing#patti lupone x reader#hollywood 2020
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PHOTO ALBUM (part two)
read part one here
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft!dom chris x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you and chris finally have alone time, you guys want to make the most of it.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, fluff, swearing, p in v, sleepy sex, a little praising
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 715
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: the second part for @whoreforchrissturniolo request😜
marylou opens the front door and smiles wide, you and chris walking into his childhood home and placing the car seats on the ottoman. “how are you doing, sweetie?” she greets with a hug, chris unbuckling the twins so braeden and lydia can stretch.
“i’m doing good.” you reply. “just tired.”
“tell me about it,” she says lowly, chris coming to your side. his mother talks to the babies, taking both of them out of the seats and holding them in her arms. she is a pro.
“thank you again, mom. i’m sorry we keep coming over like this, especially when dad’s at work.”
she scoffs, refusing to take her eyes off of her grandchildren. “don’t be silly. go get rest; i got this.”
occasionally, you and chris would come over to his parent's house in the morning to have them watch the kiddos while you guys get some extra sleep. it helps tremendously, since the amount of sleep you guys get is about four hours.
because of the eye bags, it does look like you guys got punched in the face.
once you plop onto chris’s bed, you get under the covers and snuggle instantly, eyes already half closed. “your mom is a lifesaver.” you mumble.
he giggles, facing toward you and taking your hand to peck it. a peck leads to him kissing up your arm, then neck, then to him on top of you with your arms wrapped around his neck. your lips move in sync. it’s slow, but it’s full of need.
ever since the kids were born, you guys have not had time to have sex, which is understandable. right now, you guys are exhausted, but you can’t stop now.
he pulls away, groaning when you reach your hand into his pants and pump his base. “fuck.” he whispers, feeling him getting harder under your touch.
you hum when he pushes your hand away, untying both his and your bottoms before pulling them down. he goes in and kisses you again, this time inserting his tongue into your mouth.
soft moans and pants leave your mouths, keeping in the back of your heads to not be so loud. you guys are supposed to be asleep, after all.
gasping, you grab onto chris’s arms. you haven’t felt him in a very long time, so adjusting to the size again will be difficult. he leans to your ear, nibbling on your earlobe. “you’re taking it so well, baby. just a little more, okay?”
you whine, chris taking one of your hands and interlocking his fingers with it above your head. once he thrusts softly into you, your eyes flutter closed. you throw your head back, taking in what you haven’t felt in almost a year.
“damn,” he grunts, leaving kisses on your neck and collarbone. he missed this.
“you feel so good.” you whimper, gripping tighter onto his hand that’s holding yours. he moans in response, licking his lips to focus on how well you wrap around him.
you open your eyes, his already staring back at yours. your noses graze each other, mouths open wide with heavy pants escaping them. because it’s been forever, your orgasm already started to build.
his cock moves deep inside you, a high-pitched moan louder than the others falling past your lips before you cover them with your palm. clenching hard, chris’s hips jut. “you’re squeezing so fucking tight. is someone close? hm?”
“y-yes.” you exhale. “i need to cum so bad. i-i miss cumming around your cock.”
those words cause a groan, his hips moving slightly faster to also get to his climax. “sh-shit.” he stammers. “that’s right. cum around my dick like the good girl you are. there we go.”
legs trembling, you continue to moan as your release smears down his shaft. multiple grunts and ruts of the pelvis later, the feeling of chris’ cum oozing inside of you has you thanking god that you recently got back on birth control. you love the babies, but you certainly don’t need another one at the moment.
he lays at your side, arms wrapping around your waist and nuzzling deep into your back. you were tired before, but that got you guys falling asleep in seconds, enjoying the peace while listening to each other’s heartbeats.
𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2 @sturnsjtop
#✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo smut
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