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chvnssecret · 2 years ago

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Toy

warnings: explicit content - degrading - hard!dom jeongin - afab reader - name calling - throat grabbing - face fucking (do not do this) - unprotected sex (do not do this) - hair grabbing - PLENTY of aftercare - sadism - if you are under the age of 18, i suggest you click off now.

Yang Jeongin, the popular boy from college. His hard demeanour, lip piercing and bleached blonde hair are his staple. Though, you found him so fucking hot, but being the shy girl you are always made it difficult for you to make a move. No one was aware of the shit you were in to, and that’s what made it all exciting. Being shy on the outside and a freak on the inside, was something that gained you confidence.

Seeing the way he carries himself around college, and how popular he is, definitely turned you on. Considering you’re a quiet girl yourself, quiet boys are something you never went for.

It was the last lesson of the day, and he was there. He made you feel like a giddy school girl, even though he would never look in your direction. Just watching him made you wet between your legs, and you knew for a fact that he was an animal in bed.

To your misfortune, you had zoned out, whilst staring at him. Zoned out so hard to the point you hadn’t noticed him make his way over to you, banging his hands on the table and making you jump.

“Close your mouth, you’re drooling.” He towered over you as you stared up at him in disbelief. His hand felt soft as he pushed your chin up to close your mouth. “Sorry-shit I’m so sorry. I was daydreaming.” You scrambled around for your bag and noticed everyone had already left the room, leaving you both in the class alone. “Daydreaming about me?” His arms folded over his chest and he chuckled cockily, and it turned you on so fucking much. The way the lollipop stick moved around in his mouth as he chewed on it, exposing the piercing below his bottom lip. You wondered how it would feel, dragging along your clit or how it would feel as he sucked your nipples. “Cat got your tongue, miss?” He leaned down to your height on the chair, staring you in the face to drag you straight out of your trance again.

“No, I was just leaving. Sorry again.” You stood up, noticing the height difference as he still towered over you. He didn’t budge. Simply stood there, arms crossed and eyeing you up. You felt so small, so belittled and so fucking pathetic. “Stop apologising. You sound pathetic.” It’s like he read your mind. You were being pathetic, but you couldn’t help it. A blush crept upon your cheeks at the insult. That was also something you couldn’t help; getting turned on by degrading. He didn’t have to know that though, right?

“You going home?” He asked you, as if it was a normal conversation like you had been friends for years. “Y-yeah, I think so.” You weren’t quite sure why he asked, but you were curious. His eyes followed your every move, making you feel weirdly insecure. “I like you, quiet girl. What’s your name?”

He wanted your fucking name?

“Y/N.” You spoke in the smallest voice ever. “Pretty name.” He responded, bluntly. You smiled shyly, nodding your head before trying to walk past him. “Let me drive you home.” He gripped your arm and you stopped in your tracks.

To be honest, you didn’t mind, it saved you from a thirty minute walk and bruised feet.

The walk to his car was silent and awkward. If anything, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole, but you had a slight feeling that Jeongin was going to do that soon.

“In.” He gestured and opened the passenger door for you. “Thanks.” You responded, slightly surprised at his gentleman like antics.

He drove like a fucking maniac with rock music playing from his speakers. You gripped onto your legs for dear life, watching how his knuckles flexed as he changed the gears. The way he was so laid back whilst driving made you fluttery and you couldn’t stop staring out the corner of your eye.

“Here?” He pulled over, unclipping your seatbelt for you and giving you butterflies. He got out too, and you just thought he’d open the door, but no. Instead, he followed you all the way to your front door as if it was the most normal thing ever.

“Parents home?” His question was blunt and caught you by surprise.

“Uh, no, they’re at work until tonight.” For some reason, your eyes couldn’t meet his. You were so fucking nervous and intimidated just by his presence that you could barely form coherent words. “Perfect.” He let himself in, discarding his bag and shoes at the bottom of the stairs before heading up.

You couldn’t believe the sight before you.

As you entered your room, you saw him looking around, nodding in approval. Not that you needed it, his approval, but it still felt good.

“You’re dirty, I can feel it.” He blurted out. You almost choked on nothing at his sudden outburst. “Dirty?” You questioned, placing your bag on the other side of your bed. He followed behind you, sitting where you stood so you were basically between his legs. “You heard me.” His tone instantly changed, his voice was now hoarse and he was looking up at you through hooded eyelids. “Oh, I’m not sure..” You awkwardly tucked hair behind your ears and he placed his hands around your thighs.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, and you started sweating. A different aura filled the room. It’s almost like your dream had come true. The boy you had crushed on for years had finally noticed you, and touched you. You turned to face him, and he had a lazy grin on his face. He tugged at your legs a little for you to sit down, which you did, straddling his lap.

He was already hard and you could feel that he was big. Without a word, he cupped your face and brought you in for a rough kiss. Although it was heated and racy, his lips still felt soft. Your teeth clattered together with desperation - as if you had both wanted this for the longest time. Maybe he had noticed you before, and had the same thoughts, but that’s something you’d never ask him.

“You need to be touched, doll.” He spoke between kisses.

“Why?”

“Because you’re too fucking innocent.” He lifted your shirt over your head; arms lifted with compliance. His comment riled you up, and made you feel like you had to prove him wrong.

Moving forward, you climbed off his lap, and internally chuckled at his confused expression. Either, he didn’t know what you was going to do, or he was shocked because he had never been rejected before. “Be quiet.” You hushed him as you saw his mouth move to speak. He simply smirked and sat back on his hands, legs open with you in between them.

Your heart was racing at the new type of confidence you had gained. Never did you think that you’d be lucky enough to be in this position - but here you were - between his legs and ready to suck his dick.

He lifted his legs to help you slide his boxers off, kissing his legs and stomach before grabbing the full length in your hand. You could feel him looking down on you, relaxed and concentrated.

“Haven’t got all day, doll.” He taunted. You took it upon yourself to spit on the tip before sliding the whole of it into your mouth.

Breathy moans escaped his lips with every bob of your head. His shaft fit perfectly in your hands that gripped it, twisting and tugging every time you sucked all the way down. The sounds of his whimpers goaded you to go that extra mile; pulling up and focusing on his sensitive tip to rile him up further.

Your hands were soaked and dripping with the mixture of his precum and your spit.

You swirled your tongue around his tip, ready to swallow it all again but he grabbed a handful of your hair, yanking your head back to look at him. With your swollen lips, watery eyes and sore throat, you looked up at him.

“Dirty slut, swallowing me whole. You think you’re the shit, don’t you?” He licked his lips as he looked down at you, on your knees and desperate for him.

“Use your fucking words when I’m talking to you.” His thumb ran down your cheek, and to your lip, pulling it down slightly as you whimpered under his touch. You were so fucking wet for him and he didn’t even understand. “Yes, Innie.” You mewled as he removed his thumb. A pout formed upon your lips at the sudden loss of contact, until he moved your head forward with the handful of hair, placing his cock back into your mouth slowly.

He grinded his hips on the bed, letting his tip hit the back of your throat every time.

“You gonna let me cum in here, whore?” He spoke down at you as you nodded your head. All you wanted to do was make him feel good; you can tell he did from the whimpers leaving his mouth.

It wasn’t long before his cock started to pulsate in your mouth, running your tongue along his length in order to speed up his climax. His grip on your hair tightened as he fucked out his last shot of cum into your throat. As he pulled out, he laid back onto the bed, leaving you on the floor and deprived.

“Come, I’m not done with you yet.” He beckoned you by his fingers, allowing you to get up and climb onto his lap. Excitement coarsed through your veins as you wondered what he had in store for you next.

Your whole body felt warm with arousal, and you were very much hoping for him to be rough with you. Of course, you had sex before, but nothing quite like this. It seems that everyone views you as ‘vanilla’ and ‘inexperienced’ just because you’re reserved. In this case, it was different. Maybe he treated other girls like this, but you didn’t care, because all you ever wanted to happen - was happening.

“Get on your fucking knees, you’re so useless.” He spat, slapping your ass so hard that it left a red mark. You did as you were told, arching your back, dripping wet for him. “I can see how wet you are already, babe.” The pet name gave you butterflies - but another part of you knew full well that you’re not the only one who’s been called that.

All you wanted was for him to fuck you raw, ruthless and hard enough to make you let off steam. It was anything but. He took his sweet time, wiping the tip of his cock up and down your pussy whilst you whimpered under him. He grew hard way too quickly, and this time his cock was extra sensitive from the previous orgasm.

As he slid in, he hissed through his teeth, “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“Stretch me then, Innie.” Your hands gripped the sheets, trying to stay quiet as he pumped in and out of you slowly. It was pure torture. His hands had a firm grip on your hips as he pounded into you from behind, balls slapping against your clit with each thrust.

“What’s that? I can’t hear you.” He teased as you tried to muffle your moans. You didn’t want all the ego to go to his head - because he has way too much already - but he was fucking you so good. “H-harder.” You mewled, hair sticking to your face with pleasurable sweat. “God, you’re so fucking needy.” And with that, he filled you up, deeper and deeper. The air became sticky and hot, and the room smelt of sex, but you couldn’t be more relieved right now. This was what you needed; sex with no strings attached. For so long, you were sick of being labelled as the ‘quiet girl’ and Jeongin really took that title away from you.

“I’m close.” You whimpered as he thrusted into you, fast and hard. “You’re going to cum all over my cock, hmm?” His hand ran down your back to arch it further for his last few strokes.

A pit of warmth formed in your stomach, clenching your legs before finally letting loose all over his length inside of you. His cock throbbed too, releasing his juices and filling you up as you both rode out your highs.

He pulled out, flopping on the bed next to you as you scrambled to get clothes on.

“Are you okay?” He asked with a hand over his face. It was the most kind and concerned you had ever heard him, and it took you by surprise. “Yeah, I’m okay.” You shyly walked to the bathroom and came back to him in the exact same position.

It felt awkward now all the sexual tension had gone, and now he was just lying on your bed…butt naked.

“I guess I’ll see you around school then..” You trailed off and he looked offended. “Come here, I’ll stay for a bit longer and keep you company.” He opened his arm for you to climb in. You were hesitant and completely dumbfounded at this new version of him.

“I don’t bite all the time, I could do with a nap.”

#chvnssecret #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz smut #kpop smut #kpop #skz x reader #skz x stay #skz x you #jeongin #yang jeongin #jeonginsmut

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chasing-classics · 4 years ago

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Our Little Secret Sessions- Nate Jacobs x Reader (2)

Pairing(s): Nate Jacobs x Reader

Warning(s): SMUT, language, toxic relationships, older reader, NON-CON

Summary: After landing a job as the high school’s new counselor you settle into your new home, unaware of what danger lurks just outside your front door. In Part Two, you meet another one of your students, only to be interrupted by the boy next door.

Part 1

A couple of weeks had passed since your encounter with Nate, but the fear of what the teenage was capable of remained fresh in your mind. You could never forget the dominant, controlling look in his eyes when he had threatened you in your office. Since then, you had been unable to sleep properly and you found yourself constantly looking over your shoulder. On the bright side, you had not encountered him face-to-face since that day, but his presence could always be felt never too far away. He was like some sort of predator, a beast lurking in a dense jungle. Eyes sharp and ready to go in for the kill at any moment.

‘’Um miss?’’ a voice broke you out of your thoughts.

You quickly snapped your head up, sitting straight up in your office chair as a young girl stood in the doorway. She was average height for her age, dark hair, glamorous makeup, and full lips. You had seen her walking down the hall a few times, an air of confidence always surrounding her. She reminded you of the girls you hated when you were in high school.

‘’I’m so sorry, please come in,’’ you extended your hand, gesturing to one of the empty chairs or the couch in front of your desk. She nodded, shutting the door behind her as she made herself comfortable.

‘’I’m sorry, I’m still getting used to everything here. I’m Miss y/l/n,’’ you held out your hand for her to shake. She looked down at it before slowly returning the gesture. Whether she just wasn’t used to people being polite to her or she just didn’t like you, you weren’t sure.

‘’Maddy,’’ she replied, her expression unreadable.

‘’Well how can I help you Maddy?’’ you offered a kind smile despite her semi-cold attitude.

Her eyes flickered, searching for the right words to express her thoughts. Your brow furrowed as she visibly struggled.

‘’This is a safe place Maddy, whatever you tell me stays between us,’’ you encouraged.

She bit down on her lip, hands twisting and fumbling in her lap as her leg bounced. Finally, she met your concerned gaze with a sigh.

‘’Do you think sexuality is a spectrum?’’ she blurted out.

The question took you back, it taking everything in your for your mouth to stay shut.

‘’Well, in my opinion it certainly can be. There doesn’t necessarily have to be a one-size-fits-all or black and white approach to it. But I really think it depends on you and your preferences-‘’

‘’N-no. Not me,’’ she cut you off, still seemingly nervous. You arched a brow, trying to decipher what she was talking about.

‘’Is everything ok, Maddy?’’

‘’Look there’s this. . .guy who I’m seeing. And I found-‘’

Knocking on your door made the two of you jump. A lump formed in your throat when the handle twisted and the door opened, revealing none other than Nate fucking Jacobs.

You quickly cast a glance at Maddy who, for some reason or another, looked almost as petrified as you felt.

‘’Oh sorry Miss y/l/n, I didn’t know you were busy,’’ Nate practically hissed out the last word as his gaze fell upon Maddy.

‘’Mister Jacobs, I’m with Maddy right now. If you’d like we can schedule a meeting-‘’

‘’No! No, it’s ok, miss. I’ll be late for class anyway,’’ Maddy scrambled to collect her bag and rush out the door.

‘’I can write you a hallpass,’’ your words jumbled, practically pleading with the girl to stay so that you were not left alone with this sociopath. The smirk on Nate’s face made your blood run cold.

Maddy murmured a quick ‘’bye’’ before the door shut closed behind Nate’s lanky figure. He scoffed, steadily turning his attention back to you as you shakily stood.

‘’You can’t just show up like that. I have a job to do and anyone could-‘’

‘’Take your pants off,’’ he abruptly interrupted you.

A pitiful squeak, similar to that of a puny mouse cornered in a snake pit, escaped your lips as the air left your lungs.

‘’What?’’ you felt your heart began to beat faster as Nate took a step towards you after locking your door, sealing your fate.

‘’I said, take your pants off. And bend over your desk,’’ his deep voice shook you to your core.

‘’Nate, please,’’ you whispered, trying to sum up as much courage and dominance as you could as you stood straight and met his terrifying gaze.

He didn’t respond as his hands descended on you. One locked itself onto the back of your neck and played with your hair as the other began to roughly grope your breasts through your flimsy shirt. His mouth pressed rough, hearted kissed onto the column of your neck as his breath fanned hot flames onto your soft skin. You felt paralyzed as his grip tightened, you having to bite your lips from crying out.

You jumped when his large hand made its’ way underneath your shirt and the material of your bra. He easily captured a nipple between his index and middle finger and began to pinch and squeeze and tug on the sensitive bud, expertly rolling it however way he sought fit.

‘’L-leave,’’ you whispered. Half of you was praying and the other was making a rather pathetic attempt to reestablish authority over him.

‘’If I walk out that door, everyone will know how you slept with a student,’’ he threatened, biting at the soft juncture between your neck and shoulder, making you hiss in pain.

‘’I didn’t know!’’ you whimpered, cursing the way your body reacted to both his touch and his voice.

Your nipples were overstimulated at this point, any rubbing against your bra or touch from Nate’s fingers had you mewling like a helpless kitten. Your knees locked together as you felt the heat expand downward from your arousal.

‘’The sooner you give in, the sooner I leave. The less chance you have of someone catching us,’’ he groaned, grinding his thickness into your lower abdomen so you felt what was awaiting you.

You let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly as you nervously fumbled with your jeans. Nate all but growled when he saw the delicate lace material that hid your womanhood. His breathing labored and his cock twitched. Since he had last had you he had messed around with Maddy a few times, trying to placate his urges, trying to forget about his attractive new neighbor and school counselor. But something about you, the way you were allured him to you. He found himself craving you, imagining your cries and moans as he thrusted wildly into Maddy. He found himself becoming rougher at the thought of having you once again, all to himself. His little taboo. Today, he found he couldn’t wait any longer and found himself at your office door, ready to continue your secret little sessions.

By the time your jeans had pooled around your ankles and your underwear shortly followed, your boots providing you with a little more height than usual, Nate grew tired of waiting. He shoved your paperwork, cleverly unhooking your phone in case anyone called, and shoved you down by your neck so that your body was painfully bent over the unforgiving surface.

Your cheek pressed against the wood of the desk, your eyes searching for anything to focus on as you tried to block out the jingling of his belt and the sound of his zipper being pulled down. You felt the heat of his cock at your entrance as Nate folded himself onto you, his breath hitting your cheek and neck as his toned abs gently grazed your spine and ass.

‘’Be quiet,’’ he warned, one massive hand wrapping around your face to cover your mouth. You winced as he spit down onto your spread pussy, using his thumb as makeshift lubricate. He hummed in approval at the feel of your arousal and you didn’t need to face him to know he had a chesire cat grin on his pale face. You could feel him retreat his hips before he lunged forward and sheathed his massive dick into your tight canal. You screamed against his hand, although it was practically just muffled mewls given his tight grip as he began rotating his hips, stretching your tightness to welcome whatever he was about to give you.

‘’Shhhh, good girl, look at you taking it like a champ,’’ he mocked as he reluctantly pulled out, only to violently snap forward, your body lunging with his brutal movements.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you were ashamed to admit they were in pleasure. The feeling of complete fulness outweighed the pain, but you made a pitiful attempt to reach behind you and shove him back. You yelped as his other hand locked your wrists and pinned them to the small of your back, your body helpless and completely on display as Nate continued his brutal pace. He felt every quiver, every squeeze that your sweet pussy gave him. He nearly came within the first few minutes of being inside of you, but he managed to hold off. The way you squealed under him, your smaller body rocking in tune with his thrusts, and the way your tight pink pussy latched onto him to the point he dragged your body back as he pulled out was nothing that he had ever had before. He pressed more of his weight into you, trying to keep his own grunts and moans quiet as he gripped your face and wrists.

‘’So good,’’ he kept repeating in your neck as he hammered into you. The wet noises and sound of his hips violently meeting your backside filled you with fear that someone would come in and catch you. Your squealing and cries slowly transformed into needy moans and whimpers, you faintly acknowledged your juices beginning to drip down your inner thighs and you felt your insides begin to coil.

‘’N-Nate,’’ you breathlessly cried against his palm, attempting to suck in as much air through your nose as you could. He bite down on your shoulder, tongue lapping at the faint angry marks, groaning as his pace did not let out. He was impossibly thick and girthy, filling you and hitting your cervix with every ram of his hips. Your hands twitched and knees buckled as his cock began throbbing along your velvet walls. You couldn’t help but squeeze him as your own climax began to form, causing him to hiss against your shoulder.

‘’Gonna fill you up, oh fuck,’’ you faintly deciphered him growling out as you were forced to take his thrusts.

Your clit throbbed almost painfully, knuckles turning lighter as your fists clenched against your back. He abruptly released your wrists, opting to clutch the curve of your hip as he forced your body back to meet his awaiting thrusts, making you cry out every time he angrily entered you. As you cried out with each thrust, he groaned, feeling your release incredibly close. He angled his hips slightly higher and dove in, grinning as he heard your moans, your pussy locking onto his dick as your orgasm coated him. He slowed his pace just to watch the way he glistened from your juices, enjoying the sinful squelching noises you both produced as he shoved himself repeatedly into you, before regaining his violent momentum.

His grip on you tightened impossibly as you lay limp underneath him, lost in the waves of your release. All you felt was your body being forced back and forth as Nate impaled you onto his angry member. You swore you saw actual stars bouncing around your vision before you were forced back down into reality as he removed his hand from your mouth (finally) and gripped your throat. Through his animalistic movements he angled your face back to meet his in a bruising, possessive kiss as he ensured every inch of him was buried to the hilt inside of you as he shuddered. You groaned as the warmth of his cum filled your abused pussy. He moved against you one last time before slowly pulling you out and stuffing himself back into his jeans and zipping it back up. You winced when you felt a finger trace your lower lips and shove some of his load back into your sore pussy.

‘’Get dressed,’’ his voice conveyed his relaxation and his gaze was surprising soft as he helped you stand up.

You didn’t speak as you redressed, your face still flushed with a postcoital glow. He tucked some of your hair out of your face as his eyes searched yours, his thoughts unreadable. But just as his expression lingered on borderline affection, that cruel teenage-boy smirk reappeared as his hand thumbed the base of your neck in a warning grip.

‘’I’m going to need that hall pass.’’

#nate jacobs x reader #euphoria #nate jacobs #jacob elordi #Smut #maddy perez #euphoria hbo #nate jacobs smut #angst

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mochikeiji · 4 years ago

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Kinktober Day 7: Baby in Pink

↠ Pairing: Suna Rintarou x Reader

↠ Warning: SMUT! Cry baby reader, Ballerina AU, fingering, cunnilingus, ahegao faces because he's THAT good, riding, creampie, Suna being soft but meanie dom.

↬ Word Count: 3k

⇢ Day 7: Manhandled (Riding)

Everything felt so magical; elegant. The way you were on pointe made him suck in a breath to every performance he has witnessed from you. Even if he's seen them many, many times in repeat, you were as graceful as a butterfly, as taunting as a little fairy in baby pink. To see how effortlessly you were lifted by your partner during daring performances made him clench his fists of how close those pesky fingers of a stranger were to parts only he was allowed, yet his mind in wonder of how easily handled you were in stage.

How easily you were being handled in so many ways corrupted delicious, arousing day dreams in his calm features, but buzzing head.

He's never been vocal about it, but he adores how tight your ballet clothing were. He especially loved the camisole leotard dress; each time you wore them, he catches a glimpse of your perfectly shaped bottom from the flowy, see through clothing. Thanking the dark, and captured audience to the people on stage and not notice the growing bulge in his pants and his harsh breathing through his nose. The baby pink tone of your attire made you glow of innocence and cuteness he so wants to carry you out and throw you to his bed to snuggle you away from the eyes of the world.

To take your dainty, little self in the cold sheets with the baby pink article of clothing ruined by yours and his cum splattering messily.

The times your eyes would get caught with his pretty ones after your search for him in the sea of the crowd, you would smile brightly st him, eyes forming the adorable crescents he recognizes even from afar. The former, emotionless middle blocker would be in love struck, as if Cupid had shot multiple arrows to his heart just by your glowing form.

You were so precious. His little ballerina.

And he was your prince. Big and strong, beautiful in every way, fit from his previous and present time in volleyball, too good for anyone in this world. He was yours.

"R-rin.."

Too good.

Too good enough for you to be trembling, and just by grinding yourself on his flexed thigh. He couldn't hold back anymore after seeing you present yourself with your new outfit. It was still the same color, but the fabric was thinner than usual, either it was to make your movements more easier or it was just to test his patience. The length of the flowy skirt had been shortened with your legs no longer covered, naked and soft looking, the chest area emphasized your bust too much for his liking.

Oh, you were so delectable.

He groans your name when he felt your juices seep out from your clothed pussy. It was almost as if you weren't even covered well with it. Big, rough hands at the sides of your hips, guiding your shy movements against his thigh to bring you to your awaited heaven. You whimper when he dug his fingers onto the skin, the sounds you were making muffled on his shoulder only making it hard for him to tame himself. Having enough of it, he easily hoisted you up from his thigh and settles you down in bed. God, did he love having a place all to himself with you in it. He gets to do whatever he pleases.

"Pretty."

It came out like a harsh whisper from his lips as he stares at the damped spot of your center. The skirt pushed up and your legs spread out for him, he gets a little closer in between them and drags his digits down your clothed slit. Eyes immediately gazing up to see you biting your fist and your legs quivering in sensitivity. He hums in delight and began pressing in his index on the slick clothing, his thumb rubbing lazy circles on your clit, relishing the sounds of your soft moans and his name being chanted like a prayer.

"Shit, baby."

Cursing he pushes the leotard to the side, inserting two of his digits in and curls them quickly, wanting to see and hear your squeals as your grabbed his wrist and propped yourself up pathetically with your elbow.

"W-wait, sensitive.."

Glossy eyes meeting with his blank, but lust clouded ones. He'd take mercy whenever you would warn him at times like this, afraid he might've hurt you in the process, but this, you weren't hurt or anything. You were just being his little cry baby. Instead of listening to your plead and your small hands tightening around his wrist weakly retraining him, he pulls his fingers out slowly, licking his lips at the sight of the transparent, coated digits before plunging back in roughly. You sobbed as your body gave out and laid back down, with his other hand pressing down your stomach, he delivers precise piston of his fingers inside you. He knew you can take it. You can, and you will.

"Rin!! A-ah, Tarou..please.."

Legs trying to slowly shut with his head still in between, he hums in approval before getting a taste of your sopping cunt and lapping his tongue up to your clit. He loved getting crushed with your thighs, they were so soft and jiggly when they shook. It boosted his own ego to have them at that state because of his meek minitrations. What more can he get from you when he snaps?

He suckles on the bundle of nerves, your toes curls as your hips arched up, eagerly grinding to his mouth while pleading for him to stop since his fingers were reaching too deep into the right places inside. Suna was in his own euphoria, never really pegged himself as a man who would get drunk into the taste of you and a man who has his dick prodded up to the air just by seeing you in such princess-like clothing. Writhing beneath him, you lowered your hand down to his hair, tugging the long, luscious brown locks of his as he won't let go of the erected nub, slurping and nibbling at it like a pro.

His own arousal begging to be freed from his black slack, the infuriating fabric getting compacted uncomfortably, making his cock ache painfully. Removing his hand from your stomach, he unbuckled the belt off of his trousers swiftly, shrugging them down and kicking them off with his legs and feet, finally releasing your nub with a pop and mercy left for you.

Your legs automatically closed themselves to soothe the sensitive regions. Gripping the pillow on the side of your head as your clouded eyes gaze elsewhere into a short subspace, panting with small drool slipping from the corner of your lips. Suna sees this and gets up from the floor to hover over you. He shouldn't be so rough; shouldn't take advantage of this state you are in, not when your such in full daze of your own world, not when you looked already so fucked out when he hasn't gotten to the good part.

"You okay?"

The tip of his nose nudges your cheek softly, like a cat, he nuzzles himself on your flushed skin. It was out of character for him to display such affection, but over the years of being with you, oh how his heart softened and crumbles at the mere presence of you. He peppers your cheeks with little kisses, swiping away the drool with his thumb, murmuring praises and love confessions to you.

"You're cute."

"I'm here, baby."

"Mmm.. You're still dripping."

His voice made you dizzy, strum like a string of tantalizing melody as you inhaled his musky scent that made you dig your nose at the crook of his neck. Whimpering a little when you felt something slide outside your folds, warm and hard, Suna grunts and pants out small puffs of air onto your ear. You were so slick and wet that it was tempting to just dick you down right now. But you were his little baby, he had to take care of you first. He wouldn't want to hurt you.

"Will you let me take care of you?"

Your blown pupils lost the clouds that has surrounded them as you moaned out, his teeth sinking in the tender flesh by your neck with your hips jolting up, meeting with his twitching cock. Hands flying to clutch onto his shoulders, you wished you had kept your legs closed as now your flower was being teased to death. Suna groans when he feels you twitch a little, how adorable, he thoughts.

"Well?"

He bites on your lower lip, tugging it whilst keeping the eye contact with you, like he was ravishing you with his pretty eyes as sweat slid down to your face.

"I'm waiting."

He grabs a hold of his cock, you expected he was going to pump a few jets, but instead he began slapping it against your weeping cunt. Squealing at the sound of wet skin slapping and the small waves of pleasure kicking in, you whined beneath him when he chuckles darkly, looking up to him with puppy like eyes.

"Rin, please.."

He stops, leaning forward so that his forehead was pressing to yours, exhaling out softly when he felt himself release a few pre cum jets out from his cock.

"Please what?"

Even though he was getting as needy as you were, he was still Suna Rintarou, a guy who loves to be in control and manipulate what he can. Loves to endlessly put you on edge to have your small hands scratching his skin, your body trapped from his bigger structure. He was addicted.

Frustrated, tears glossed over your eyes with some slipping down a little. You would've screamed at him for being a big meanie, but now you were stuck pouting and crying when you felt him rut against you once more.

"Please!! Need your cock, Rintarou!!"

As those words escaped your plumped lips, Suna cages you in his arms and quickly switches positions with you in a blink of an eye. Confusion written all over your features as you gasped a little when you were now laying on his chest, Suna adjusting his head on the pillow, enough to see you shaking above him and gives your ass a soft smack, rubbing the soft, globe flesh and squishing it with his hand. Your leotard still pushed to the side, allowing his finger to tease the slit up and down, watching you start to lose yourself above him and push back, hoping to get more friction.

"You said you wanted my cock, right baby?"

You couldn't make out what he was saying, too busy rubbing against the knuckle of his index, clawing his chest to ground yourself. The veins in his arms and hands were noticeable, you can really tell he had been keeping himself together. With you above him, arms pressed to your chest, letting your tits be a show for him, hair fanning your features like some kind of princess as the uniform you were now wearing stuck to your skin from the sweat that had built up. Good thing you had spare ones.

Lining himself up to your cunt, he removes his hand away from you as you cried from the lost. Both of his hands found their way back to your bottom, lifting you up with is before slamming you down to his hard cock with a loud moan erupting from his chest and you left with wide eyes and mouth agape.

"Take it, little girl."

The sudden thrust of his cock stung, but it didn't hurt much. No, it made you shocked, panting as if you were in some sort of heat, tongue sticking out at the feeling of his dick stretching you deliciously, the length and thickness making you feel so stuffed. He felt so deeper in this position, you couldn't move. You felt that if you were to try and thrust up and down, you would break. It was all too much.

Suna felt the same way. His head burnt, spinning like a spell was cast upon him when he was engulfed by the warmth of your cunny. Fuck, your walls kept fluttering and tightening around his cock. Every muscle on his body was flexed as he breathed heavily. You were so heavenly right now, he could cum on the spot inside of you.

"R-rin...So big.."

Covering your mouth with your hands, you tried raising your hips up a little, the lewd friction creating a pleasurable wave to your spine as you sunk down immediately, choking out a moan behind your palms and crying. You couldn't move.

Suna licked his lips at the sight before prying your hands away from your mouth and sitting up against the headboard of the bed, pushing you from the small of your back to his chest closer, his hands roaming around your hot, flushed body and cupping your breast through the fabric. Before you knew it, you squealed loudly when you heard a ripping sound from the chest area.

He had finally ruined the skimpy camisole leotard from you, letting your breast free with his face nuzzling into them and taking a nipple in his mouth. His hands went back to your hips, finally guiding you to a slow rhythm as he thrusts back carefully. Moaning softly, you cradled his head in your arms while he suckles on your nipples. Relishing the soft, yet deep thrusts given to you as each second passes.

"Y-you a-ah..Had to r-rip it, o-oh my—"

Tugging his hair from his roots when he moved to the other breast and bit harshly. He tugged the nippled with his teeth softly before lapping his tongue to soothe away the sting.

"You have spare ones. Besides,"

Pushing away from you, his eyes raked to your entirely new look. The ripped fabric hanging loosely with your breast on display, your cunt being stuffed full with his cock, you and your entire form within his control.

"You look so precious right now."

He delivers one hard thrust that made you fall to his chest, only then do you realize that you were not the one moving, but him all along. His pace quickens, the moans and cries from you onlt fueling him more. Suna shuts his eyes as his senses heightened by you.

"U-unf, hah— I'm sorry!!"

Your tears falling to his chest made him shiver and worry, he tried slowing doen his pace, but he feels your hips move around cutely trying to meet with his movements.

"I-I'm sorry, R-in...Ah— I couldn't mo-move!"

You were apologizing just because you couldn't give him the exact treatment and pleasure he was giving you. Normally, guilt would eat you out at this second, but you were far more succumbed by feeling stuffed, the thought of him cumming inside you blocked all other thoughts away. Precious, absolutely precious.

His hand cupped your cheek, giving it a small pinch of adoration and wiping away the tears that had still been falling from receiving his cock.

"It's okay, let me handle you, sweetheart."

Screaming, he began ramming himself inside of you. It burned, it burned so good it hurts, like your insides were being rearranged. His balls smacking up to your ass that was shaking and being squeezed and slapped by Suna's other hand in repeat. You could only stick your tongue out as you tried to make a sound, but it was all too good all that was left is you sobbing dumbly on his chest with Suna grunting and whispering praises beneath you.

"S-so fucking tight.. God, princess, I feel like ah— 'm gonna break you."

Petting your hair, he doesn't stop his pace. They weren't lying when they said this man uses his entire body to use. Was he so strong and flexible to be able to do this to you. Your balled fist went to grab his hand from your hair, lacing your fingers with his and held his hand, weakly raising your head up.

"A-ah, ah, inside.. Please.. Rin, 'm g-gonna break.. need you. Ngh!! INSIDE!!"

Your voice came out louder at the end when his tip reaches your spot. Moans turning into those you'd hear in pornography feeling your cunt get abused.

"Shit—"

He looked so nefarious; head thrown back, his mouth opening and closing, trying to silent out his own moans to his embarrassment and his hand holding yours tightly. He was to drool for, a real life incubus.

"I-I'm cumming..fuck, take it, baby."

"R-RINTAROU!! N-NO, NO MORE HAH— SLOW DOWN! R-RIN!!"

"SHIT, (Y/N)—"

Your cunt convulsed around his pulsing cock. The rush of adrenaline wrapping themselves to every fiber of your bones as you sobbed loudly, feeling yourself cream for what it's worth around his cock, his own hot, load shooting inside your womb, holding his breath as both your hands gripped each other with toes curling.

"F-fuck, you okay?"

Finishing the last drop, he doesn't pull out immediately. Not wanting to suddenly knock out some oxygen from you, he gives the crown of your head kisses with his thumb stroking the back of your hand. You puffed out breathy pants, body tired and throat scratchy from what happened seconds ago. The redness of your cheeks and the baby hairs the stuck to your forehead made you look so adorable to his eyes, that he leaned forward to kiss your temple.

"T-thank you, Rin...Love you so much."

He can make out the small hearts in your dazed eyes, mewling softly when he accidentally thrusts in while moving his position. Your eyes scrunched up closed, burying yourself on his chest with a small voice,

"Sensitive.."

"I know."

His other arm wrapped around you tightened, rubbing his cheek on your head affectionately. He loved moments like this in doors, just you, him, your bodies as one together in bed. His beautiful, little ballerina in his arms with the soft, baby pink and look on her features and body. It made him smile secretly from you.

"I love you too, my ballerina."

And he began moving again inside of you.

3K notes · View notes

lavishedinjimin · 4 years ago

Text

Proper Training -> knj (hybrid!au)

— synopsis: Namjoon was not expecting such a random hybrid crying at his doorstep on a rainy night. After learning more about you and your past, he was determined to help such a precious little one like you. Perhaps you just needed some proper guidance and training.

↳ pairing: Namjoon x kitten hybrid f.reader

↳ genre: fluff/angst/smut

↳ rating: 18+

↳ word count: 9.5k

↳ warnings: tw/ partner abuse (please bear with me that all of this is fanfiction and I do not tolerate anything like this in real life), degrading terms/namecalling, breeding kink, dom!Namjoon, sub!reader, sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, pain kink, cunnilingus, etc.

The discreet sound of leather shoes clicking against the floor made your tail lower in desperation to find a place to hide. You whimper to herself, panicking. The living room was filled with mess, scattered pillows and the carpet spilled with milk. Although you were proud of the chaos you’ve created, you were awfully afraid of your his reaction.

You crawl underneath a side table where a lamp was placed, hugging your knees tight to your chest as you sit on your white, tucked-in tail. Your poor ears were tugged down in dismay.

“Come out, come out wherever you are!” Your master declares, his cold, chilling voice causing you to mewl. You croon your face in between your knees, bottom lip quivering in fear.

“You can’t hide away from your bullshit forever, Y/n!”

Elijah begins to search the house, looking behind and under every furniture as possible. He had no mercy whatsoever. His blood boils when his eyes drag across the ruined carpets and pillows, the white stuffings scattered all over the floor. Nothing else annoys him more than coming back home every goddamn day to see his apartment scattered in clutter because you couldn’t seem to be a normal fucking hybrid.

It wasn’t hard for Elijah to spot your furry tail. He rolls his eyes and comes walking towards your fearful figure with long strides of his feet. You emit a loud squeal when Elijah tightly grabs onto your frail arms, forcing you out underneath the table – making you bump your head on the glass.

“Stand up.” Elijah blurts, voice filled with malice. Your body continues to tremble, biting your trembling lip. You didn’t dare to make eye-contact with him, staring down at your stocking-covered legs.

“Are you deaf, girl? I said fucking stand.”

The timbre of voice that he used was harsh, commanding, and loud. You obeyed in an instant, afraid of what’s about to come. Elijah grabs both of your wrists in one big hand, preventing you to do anything to him. He presses his body against yours, noticing that he was breathing very heavily.

His other hand pulls against the charm of your black collar, easily ripping the pendant which engraved his initials. Elijah throws the pendant on the floor like it was nothing but a piece of trash.

Your eyes immediately start to tear up.

“Ma…Master…” you sniffle, trying to pry your hands away.

Elijah shushes you, unclasping the leather collar with one hand, and he throws that on the ground as well.

“I’m so glad that you can’t talk properly. Sadly though, your annoying unruliness makes up for that. I’m so tired of your bullshit.” He pulls you with him in front of the door where your fluffy slippers lay messily, instructing you to put them on.

Elijah grabs his car keys from his pockets and drags you outside the apartment, down the stairs, and outside to his car. He scoffs when you were trying to escape his tight hold, but he encloses you with his arm around your waist.

Tugging you close to him, he whispers in your ear, “Don’t try to escape from me, kitty. You know I can fucking bruise your sensitive skin anytime I want. Huh, you’re fucking lucky to even receive a bruise from your master.”

Elijah drives farther and farther away from his place, not knowing where he’s taking you. You were sobbing hysterically, your tears dripping down your cheeks just like the hard downpour of rain outside. The roads were dim and the sky was dark from the thick clouds blocking the sunset.

He was sick of your cries, he was. He couldn’t wait to get rid of you.

“W-Where…?” you finally speak, wiping your tears with the back of your hands, turning your head to face your Master.

Well… not anymore.

Your chest tightens from the thought, still not wanting to accept it.

“Where are we going?” he completes the sentence from you, “To some person’s doorstep, of course. I can’t stand to live with your ass anymore.” His harsh words made you want to curl up in a little ball. “You’re nothing but a toy to me. I wish I never fucking adopted your bratty ass in the first place. How come is a piece of trash like you so expensive anyway?”

Elijah was sick of your loud sobs, he doesn’t want to be with you anymore. He drives to an upscale district in the neighborhood, a neighborhood that can definitely afford to buy a hybrid like you. So, he spots a large house on the side of the street and he immediately parks.

‘Whatever’, he thinks to himself, opening his car door to walk over to your side. Pulling the handle, he roughly tugs you out, making you stumble on your own feet. The rain instantly drenches your hair, fur, and your clothes, the cold water making your body shiver.

He orders you stay put in a stranger’s doorstep, his bigger body towering over yours.

“Kneel.” He commands.

You obey.

“You stay here until someone fucking finds you, okay, brat?”

“Master—” you claw onto his feet, begging with your eyes, “M-Master no…”

“Shhh, shhh,” Elijah caresses your cheek. The warmth of his palm allowed you to press against it in utter need, wanting to go back home with him. He strokes your hair once, twice, before he sharply pulls. “Shut the fuck up. You deserve this.”

Without giving you a final look, he turns away and walks back to his car. Elijah, from inside the vehicle, watches you sob with your palms on the cemented doorstep, your shoulders heaving up and down. He didn’t regret his decision at all.

‘Finally, peace…’

Namjoon hears loud bangs coming from his front door. He gets up from his bed, rubbing his eyes. He was in a deep sleep already! Who could be knocking so loudly at this hour?

Still, in his pajamas and no shirt, he strolls outside his bedroom while rubbing his eyes. He figures that it may just be the kids that were throwing rocks at the people’s doors again. Namjoon always wonders where their parents were.

He turns the doorknob, “I swear if you kids keep—”

Namjoon gasps when he sees you curled up, soaking wet from the rain.

A hybrid.

His mind immediately panics and wonders what he’s supposed to do with you. He has never seen a hybrid before, for he only heard them on the news. He’s read countless stories of people adopting certain hybrids – make them as pets, but he’s never seen a cat hybrid before.

“Hello?” his deep, sensual voice instantly instills inside your brain. Elijah always had a high-pitched tone, and this man’s tone was utterly different. You’ve never heard anything like his before.

Your big, swollen eyes from crying too much stared up at him. Namjoon notices your ears and tail twitch when he squats down to get a better look at you.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he gulps, “W-Why are you here?”

He wonders if you can talk. However, you did not give him any reply. Your master always taught you to be careful of random strangers, especially a man.

When he reaches a hand out for you, your instincts kicked in and you immediately lean forward, biting him, sinking your sharp teeth on his skin.

“Oww! Fuck—” Namjoon curses, rubbing his gnawed hand. You back away from him, whimpering, scared that he might attack you as your master did. “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Namjoon tries to say calmly, eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t go away, don’t. I promise I won’t do anything bad to you.”

Namjoon knows one thing, though. Cat hybrids are supposed to have owners. They shouldn’t be wandering around the area like this, and if they were, adoption centers would’ve had taken them.

And for that, he detects the red marks that wrapped around your neck, making it seem like there had been a collar – previously wrapped tight.

“Come in,” he whispers gently, standing up and making room for you to enter, “I’ll keep you safe.”

Safe.

That word was familiar to you. You repeated it over and over in your mind to make you remember where you’ve heard that from.

‘I’ll keep you safe.’

The same words your master told you.

“N-No!” You furiously shake your head, “Y-You lie…”

Namjoon’s eyes widen. He sees you visibly tremble, your tail in a downright position behind you. “Oh, goodness,” he sighs, “Trust me, dear. I have no bad intentions with you. Look!” Namjoon tries to keep a gentle, caring tone in his voice, hoping that you’d trust him, “It’s raining so hard here, and you’re soaking your precious fur! I bet you’re so cold…”

You were. You were freezing your butt off. Nodding your head, you mewled pathetically.

A smile forms Namjoon’s lips, “See? If you come inside, I’ll keep you warm and get you some much comfy clothes, dear. You won’t be sleeping in cold concrete.”

His soft, gentle yet deep tone allowed you to slowly ease into his comfort.

“You can sleep in a soft, plush, comfy bed if you want!” He beams, the sleepiness in his body long gone. “Come, come inside and let me take care of you.”

A nod of your head was all it took for him to take your little hands in his, helping you stand up from your position. He was shocked by how smaller you are than him. But then again, he was indeed a tall person.

You slowly enter the unfamiliar place, though wondering how his area was so neat.

Namjoon cringes a little when your slippers created dirty, wet prints on his wooden floor. “Stay here, dear. I’ll get some fresh clothes and a towel to dry you off, okay?”

You don’t respond, too busy observing his very tidy house.

“Hey,” he unconsciously smirks, tilting your head up with a finger beneath your chin to make you lock eyes with him. “Did you hear what I said?”

A cheeky giggle escapes your mouth, eyes creasing into little crescents while you shake your head ‘no.’

“I said,” he repeats, “I’ll be right back.”

As you watch the strangely kind man walk out into a room and out of your sight, there was no hesitation for you to climb onto the large L-shaped couch that was previously capturing your attention. There was a huge fireplace adjacent to the couch, feeling amused because you haven’t seen anything like that before. Although wet, you didn’t care. Your head feverishly tilts in all directions, eager to see such new areas.

Noticing that there were a lot of plants, your ears peaked up in interest. They are everywhere!

Namjoon comes back with a towel and clothes in his hands. However, his chest drops when he sees that you’ve made yourself comfortable on the couch.

Great.

He shakes his head, trying to hide his slight exasperation with a timid laugh. He crouches in front of you so that he can clean your damp hair and ears with the towel. You were trying to pry away from him, moving your head left and right, shaking your head – obviously in a playful mood already.

“Dear,” he chuckles, “let me clean you up. C’mon now.”

You let out a little squeak when he cleans your fluffy ears, then your face. Down to your neck and your hands. The rest of your body was covered with your long sweater, cotton shorts, and stockings. He wonders if you’ll let him take them off…

“Do you wanna get changed?” he asks you.

He didn’t expect the frantic, almost desperate nod.

“Oh. Do you want me to take your clothes off?”

“Mhm!”

Namjoon gulps the ball that formed in his throat. He’s a grown adult, he shouldn’t be nervous about this. But then again, you were still half-human and a total stranger… it was unbelievable how you trusted him enough.

He grabs the hem of your sweater and slowly tugs it upward, revealing your soft, supple-looking skin. An immediate exhale leaves from his lips when you thankfully had worn a bra underneath. You raise your arms, letting him take the damp clothing out of you. “Here you go…” Namjoon slips on the large plain black shirt that almost covered half of your body. You giggle when you felt that it was so warm and soft, and very comfortable for it was twice your size.

Namjoon strips your stockings off, followed by your shorts. He makes you wear one of his boxers, all while having a content smile on your face. Pulling the neckline of his shirt up to your nose, you smelled his scent that instantly got you hooked. Namjoon chuckles, “Yes, dear?”

There was a glint in your eyes, looking up at him with a bright smile.

“Aww, you comfy?” he asks gently, lifting a hand to rub your arm. He didn’t expect a verbal reply from you, for he already learned that you don’t talk much. Although it can be seen from your content and calm expression, you were now perfectly fine.

Namjoon eventually seized the opportunity to take you in. A cat hybrid. In his house. Playing with the pillow covers. As he sits beside you on the couch, with an arm resting on the backrest and his left leg hiked up to his right knee, he wonders if you were still claimed.

“Hey, hey,” he gets your attention by caressing your back. You turn around with big, innocent eyes.

“Do you have a name, dear?”

Namjoon hears you mutter something underneath your breath, but he can’t seem to get a hold of it. “Say that again?”

“Y/n…” you repeat with a little tilt of your head. Your ears perked when he rubs the top of your head soothingly.

He repeats the name over and over his mind. “Y/n… good.”

His hand moves down to your chin, using his thumb to rub gentle circles on the skin. He sees that there were freckles scattered all over your face. “Kitten. You’re still a kitten, aren’t you Y/n?”

Your tail hikes up, moving closer to the nameless man carefully.

“I’m taking that as a yes,” he breathes out, spreading his legs apart so that you can sit in between his thighs. “Do you want me to call you kitten?”

Namjoon finds your little whines so adorable. Once you’ve sat down, you allowed your right hand to carefully rest against his bare chest, feeling him. Your striking blue eyes, soft fluffy white tail and ears deeply resembles a white Persian kitten. Namjoon assumes that that’s your breed.

“Kitten,” he whispers, feeling pity of you all of a sudden. He holds your hand that was on his chest, “Why were you left out on the rain like that?”

With those words, your head hangs low and your eyes well up again. You clench your wrists tightly, “M-Master…”

Namjoon quietly gasps when he sees a single tear dripping down your cheek. Oh god, he shouldn’t have asked this question.

“Aw, kitten,” he tuts, wiping your tear away, “It’s okay. I understand now.”

Based on what happened, it was easy for him to connect the dots. You were abandoned by your master and was left at his doorstep. Namjoon couldn’t even imagine how you, a poor kitten, would’ve felt. Someone who you once deeply trusted and who you gave all the power to take care of you could betray you like that – it must’ve been heartbreaking.

Guessing with the marks of the collar that were engraved on your neck, it must have been recent.

Namjoon takes your face in his hands, making you look at him. His eyes were looking into you like your master once did, so full of adoration. But now you guess that you weren’t his anymore.

“Don’t cry, kitten. I’ll protect you. I’m not gonna let anyone take you. You’ll stay here for a couple of days before I figure out what to do with you, okay?”

You nod once, a pout on your lips.

To make you feel a little bit better, Namjoon rubs the back parts of your flattened ears. He hears an unexpected purr, causing him to chuckle. Shivers run throughout your body. He figures that you like these ear rubs.

“I’ll get you a big, warm blanket and you can sleep here, alright, Y/n?”

You move away from him so that he can stand up. With round eyes, the kind man gets up and walks away once again.

You yawn, sleepiness getting the best of you. You try to find the comfiest spot on the couch before settling yourself in. This wouldn’t be too bad… it’s much better than sleeping outside with the cold rain!

When Namjoon comes back, he sees that you’re already fast asleep. Once again, his heart clenches. He pities you, for who would even ditch a precious, good little kitten like you are.

He quietly covers your curled up figure with the blanket, careful not to wake you up. He rubs the back of your ear once, twice, before shutting the main light of the living room off. He flicks the lamp on the corner of the room so that it wasn’t pitch dark. Namjoon also makes sure that the door was locked – who knows what could happen.

“Poor thing…” he whispers to himself, right before he tucks himself in bed.

Right after Namjoon wakes up, just the minute he opens his tired, puffy eyes, he sees something white in his view. A tail.

You were sat meekly in his lap with your back to him, cheeks pressed down against the sheets, waiting for him to wake up. Once you feel him move, quickly – you let out an unconscious mewl, greeting him with a happy smile.

“Oh, Y/n,” Namjoon says, his morning voice causing him to sound deep and raspy. “Good morning… I didn’t expect you to be on my bed!” He laughs a little awkwardly.

You crawl further up to him, hands softly pressing against the bed. Your innocent, happy smile was now replaced with a cheeky, teasing smirk. Namjoon’s hand lifts to pet your head, his soft fingertips scratching behind your ear. Involuntarily, you nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck, smelling his pleasant scent.

“Y/n…” he warns when he feels you get closer to him.

What’s the reason to stop? You mentally ask yourself with a chuckle.

Without thinking, you gave his honeydew neck a broad lick, hearing him gasp, and bite his neck just hard enough until there was a little mark.

“Hey!” Namjoon bursts while he pushes you away from him, making you lay back down on the bed. He took the opportunity to get on top of you, pinning you down with his hands on your wrists.

His bed hair, all messy and tangled, flows perfectly down to his forehead that almost covered his eyes. He feels somewhat irritated from the way you were smiling so mischievously, a bold gaze painted across your eyes.

“Naughty,” he whispers, lowering his head down until it rests almost against your ear, “Stop that.”

His grip on your wrist tightens, and it fueled your instincts to just bite. Tilting your head a little to the right, you jerk forward as an attempt to sink your teeth into the skin of his wrist, but Namjoon was quicker to move it away.

“Well, well,” he chuckles, climbing out of the bed but still keeping an eye on you. “Obeying isn’t easy for you, huh?”

Namjoon walks up to his closet to grab himself some clothes with you watching idly on the bed. You decide to sit up and rest your back against the headrest.

“Anyhow, I need to go to work, so you’re staying here until I get back home.” He hears a little whimper coming from you, but he ignores the sound, “Do you understand?”

You nod once, tapping your foot impatiently on the bed.

Oh, the fun you’ll have when he’s not here…

“Wait a second, you still don’t know my name, do you?” He partly laughs mid-sentence. “Excuse my manners! I’m Namjoon, but you can call me Joon for short—”

“Master.”

Namjoon’s forehead creases immediately, “Ma—I’m not your master, kitten,” he says breathily.

“Master!” you insist, whining in your seat.

“No, kitten. You don’t belong to anyone yet. You have no master.”

Oh. You felt something stinging in your chest – as if a spear has been pierced through your heart.

Namjoon doesn’t think much about what he said, for he believes that he’s just telling the truth. He walks out of the room and to the bathroom to get himself ready for work, about to give this whole household all to yourself.

When he arrives at the agency, Namjoon scurries to the conference room in a rush. He lowers his facemask, looking at the watch on his wrist.

9:39 A.M.

The sliding door unlocks and he was quickly greeted with the rest of the boys already seated on their designated areas around the long table, supposedly ready for an album launch consultation. He emits a sigh, “Sorry, I’m late.”

Thankfully, the CEO was late too.

Yoongi chuckles, clasping his hands together in front of him on the table, “You know, Namjoon, you’ve been tardy more times than Jungkook lately—”

“Yeah!” Jungkook abruptly buts in.

“—did your alarm not wake you up again?”

How can he say that there’s a kitten hybrid in his house without the boys finding him delirious?

But either way, the members always deserve to have honest answers.

He takes a seat in between Hoseok and Jimin, who were patiently waiting for a response like the rest of them. “So, um, you guys know all about those… hybrids, right?”

A few of them chuckled, some of them replied with a “yes.”

“You did not just buy a hybrid, Kim Namjoon!” Seokjin half-yells and half-laughs.

“Aren’t those expensive?” Hoseok inquires, “Well… you are a multi-millionaire…”

“No, I didn’t buy anything!” he retaliates, “A stray kitten hybrid has been left on my doorstep last night and I took her in my home!”

“Huh?!” almost everyone exclaims synchronically. “A kitten hybrid?” Jimin questions, “Like… half kitten, half…” he almost can’t finish his words from how other-worldly he thinks he sounds, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Half-human, yeah.” Namjoon completes his sentence.

He can feel the rising tension inside the room. Even though the air conditioning was on, Namjoon feels himself getting hotter each second.

“If this goes out to the public…” Taehyung mumbles, “It’ll be all over the news. They’d think you’ve adopted or bought one, hyung.”

“Who’s looking out for her?” Hoseok asks, looking straight at Namjoon’s eyes.

“It’s a her?!” Jungkook whisper-shouts, eyes were blown wide.

“Hey!” Jimin slaps the younger’s arm, “You weren’t listening!”

“Yeah, yeah, God,” Namjoon frustratingly rakes his hands through his dark hair. ”She’s like… abandoned from her original owner…”

Suddenly, like a flash appearing inside his mind and taking over his train of thoughts, your pleading, desperate face when he first saw you outside his house overtook his head. He remembers how woeful, miserable, and heartbreaking you looked – all drenched from the rain with your wet hair framing your face. White fur has been soaked and ears pulled down in despair. Namjoon can almost hear your gloomy little noises, those pleading mewls going past your lips.

Oh, how pitiful you were.

“Kim Namjoon!” Hoseok breaks him out of his ruminating thoughts with a violent shake of his shoulders. He laughs uncontrollably right after, filling the room with endorphins. “She’s abandoned, okay we get that, then what?”

Namjoon giggles embarrassingly, lowering his head down while his dimples appear on his cheeks.

“Uh, I mean—I couldn’t just leave the poor thing outside. It was raining heavily at the time so I opted to just let her stay in with me.”

“What are you going to do with her?” Taehyung asks curiously, “Will you take her back to the centers?”

The truth was, Namjoon wasn’t thinking about bringing you back to the adoption center. It’s too early for him to decide if he wants to keep you or not. But one thing’s for sure, though, that he loves the bratty personality that you’re putting up with him.

“I don’t know if I want to.”

From the car ride back home, Namjoon was on his phone researching all about these so-called hybrids. Everyone has heard of them – it’s no secret. But having to receive one was never a plan of his.

‘Kitten Hybrids.’ He types on the search engine.

‘Kitten hybrids usually grow to an average height of four-and-a-half to five feet, depending on their breeds. These hybrids are created either from an infant instilled with feline DNA the day they were born, or the result of two cat hybrids breeding.’

Namjoon was already aware of all of that. He was acquainted with the knowledge of how hybrids are created when it was less widespread than today.

‘Just like regular, ordinary animals, the younger ones are most likely to have insubordinate and rebellious tendencies, whether a male or a female. When not guided and coached properly by their first owner – kittens will most likely display abysmal behavior. The possessors of this hybrid must know their duty to ensure that your kitten knows what is right and what is wrong.’

Namjoon is dropped off at his house and finally, after hearing the lock jingle, you skipped your way to the front door with a happy, wide smile plastered on your face.

You whine while embracing his taller, muscular build in your short arms. Namjoon gasps from the unexpected action, almost hesitant to hug you back. “K-Kitten…” he exhales, “hey.” He closes the door behind him with one hand, as the other rubs the back of your ears. Purring, you press your cheek against his chest.

“Did you miss me? What did you do while I was g— oh my fucking god.” Once Namjoon looks up to scan the living room, it was all a horrible, jungle of mess. His indoor plants were shoved down to the floor, dirt all over the place with the expensive vases shattered. His pillows and the cushion of his couch were littered everywhere. Books had fallen to the ground at the opposite side of the room. It was like a magnitude five earthquake had just occurred.

He looks down at you with a serious gaze, eyes unwavering with his forehead creased in dissatisfaction. Namjoon clenches his jaw tightly when he hears a quiet, almost discreet breathy giggle coming out of you.

Brat. He thinks.

“Are you proud of the mess you’ve made?”

“Mhm,” you nod your head happily.

“That’s fortunate.” Namjoon was quick to shrug his coat off, leaving it on the coat rack whilst sliding his shoes off. He takes a deep inhale through his nose, “You know what you’re doing is wrong, Y/n.”

You tilt your head to the side in utter confusion. Why doesn’t he seem… angry?

Slowly walking backward until your ankle hits the couch, you sit down timidly. Watching Namjoon clean up your mess was a weird, yet a new sight. He wasn’t screaming at you, punishing you – he isn’t doing what Elijah did.

Namjoon quietly cleans the shattered vase and dirt with a handy broomstick, smirking to himself when he hears a whine coming from your lips.

“This vase is expensive you know, Kitten?” he chimes, smiling in your direction. “But that’s okay. We can buy a replacement. I was getting a little sick of this plant anyway.”

Your eyes widen. There was a feeling inside of you that you can’t seem to decipher. After creating the mess you’ve made, you prepared yourself for a whole spanking from him. But it didn’t come. It was so unusual for you that he isn’t here yelling his lungs out.

Namjoon collects the trash on the dustpan and throws it in the bin. It was amusing for him that you were just sitting there prettily; your hands on your thighs while your white tail keeps swaying behind you. Your face shows a clear image of confusion, which was entirely Namjoon’s plan.

You were used to all the shouts and screams, thinking that it was normal. But he was showing you a reaction you’ve never seen before. Maybe if he doesn’t give you the reaction that you anticipate, you’ll stop misbehaving, and he can teach you some good morals.

A mewl leaves your lips, trying to get his attention. Pouting, you call out for him, “J-Joon…”

“Yes, Kitten?” he chuckles, placing the broomstick at a corner. “Come here.”

Without hesitation, you get up to walk over to him. Although, your body quickly stops when he clicks his tongue firmly. “Tch, no. Crawl. Crawl to me.”

Your intuition takes over you and within a second, you were down on all fours, making your way to him. With big, wide eyes, you held eye-contact with him. Namjoon watches your hips swing side to side, tail upright. He purses his lips to a thin line, trying to stop from grinning too wide.

Once you were at his feet, Namjoon slightly leans down until his hand can reach your head. He combs your soft, beautiful hair – and of course, not missing the opportunity to rub the back of your ear. He hears you purr.

“You don’t do this, Y/n,” he mutters as soft as possible, “It’s bad to ruin other people’s stuff. Don’t go destroy every possible thing you can destroy, okay? Are you a good kitten?”

Your nose twitches from his question – of course, you are!

“Y-Yea…” you murmur.

“Well, good little kittens don’t do this. They don’t act like this. If you wanna be good, behave for me, don’t make a mess, and maybe I’ll reward you.”

Namjoon can notice the change of your eyes from the word ‘reward’.

‘Were you even rewarded before?’ He thinks to himself. The thought of you not even receiving something good breaks his big heart.

“Do you want that? You want a reward?” Namjoon grabs your face in both of his hands. He giggles from the way you nodded so fast. “Then be a good kitten for me.”

In the next couple of days, Namjoon was surprised by your every improvement; whether how little or big the change might be. However, there was still an itching need for you to push over and break his newly-bought Snake plant. You still had to work on that.

The thing that was driving you to your goal of being ‘good’ was Namjoon’s so-called reward for you. You have no clue what it might be, but you still feel excited about it.

Your old master was now forgotten. Before, his face occasionally appears in your mind for a brief second. But as Namjoon continuously showers you with compliments, kindness, and praise that Elijah couldn’t give you to, all you can ever think about now is making Namjoon proud. That was your overall goal.

“Y/n, don’t bite!” Namjoon chuckles right after you tempted to gnaw his wrist when as he gives you food. “What are you, huh? I think you’re much naughtier than a pup!” He slowly moves his hand forward again, third try feeding you with nuggets. As you sat idly on the couch, legs on a ‘W’ position with your hands on your lap, Namjoon instructs you to keep your eyes on him.

“What will you say?” he giggles when he sees your pout. “Say please.”

Please?

You tilt your head to the side to let him know your confusion about the word that had just been added to your small vocabulary. Namjoon leans back, purely baffled. Was your master such a piece of shit for not teaching you basic things like this?

“U-Um, listen… okay?” he stammers, his mind still in bewilderment. “ ’Please’ is what you say when you want something from someone.”

Namjoon starts to get lost in your beautiful eyes.

“When you want to ask for something, when you need something; may it be food, water, comfort, or attention – just say please, and your master will surely give it to you.”

You look down, tucking your tail to sit on it. “But h-have no m-master,” you mutter.

Namjoon was quick to tilt your head back up with his unoccupied hand, wrapping his hand around your jaw. You whimper quietly. “Don’t worry, Y/n,” he smiles, trying to make you feel better, “At least you have me, right?”

You affirm him with a nod.

“Good. Now c’mon, say please and I’ll let you eat.”

“Please…” you whisper, eyes wide. He chuckles lovingly, adoring the way you said that so cutely. He feeds you the chicken nugget whilst placing the square box down beside you. He combs your hair with slender fingers, releasing all of the knots.

“Good girl, baby.”

From that single sentence, you gasp.

Why did your stomach… flutter?

“Oh… err,” Namjoon meekly laughs after realizing what he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

After being with Namjoon after a whole week, you’ve never been more comfortable. He has brought you a whole bag of toys and even new clothes for you to try on.

“Have you been spoiled like this before, hm?” he asks cockily, watching you twirl around with your new outfit. For the past days, you’ve been wearing his clothes, it was great that you can finally have your own!

You shake your head as an answer.

“Pass me the bag, kitten,” Namjoon asks you, raising a brow to see if you’ll obey.

Without hesitation, you grab the shopping bag and gave it to him. He chuckles, “Thank you, Y/n.”

“Y-You’re welcome,” you reply shyly, using the new phrase that he once taught you.

Watching him rummage through the bag as he sits down on the edge of the bed, you feel quite the anticipation. He mumbles something underneath his breath, although you couldn’t quite catch what it was.

“Here it is.”

Your eyes shine, tail jerking upward in excitement when you saw what the object was.

There beholds a pink collar in his hand, dotted with shiny silvery beads. Your mouth forms a wide grin, itching to put it on.

“Kneel before me, baby.”

He unclasps the collar and puts it around your neck. It was a perfect size. He makes sure that it wasn’t too tight nor too loose – just snug enough to remind you that it’s there.

“So pretty,” he whispers. Whining, he grips your chin and pulls you close to him. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

Namjoon growls darkly right after, and it shocked you. You’ve never seen him like this before, heck, you’ve never felt anything like this, too. A trail of goosebumps arises to the skin of your arms and legs just from watching his aura completely change.

“Shit, keep staring at me like that and watch me fucking…” he sighs, “Sorry, Y/n.”

You didn’t have to say anything, but Namjoon can see the way you were rubbing your thighs together. He traces your collar with his index finger, watching his jaw clench tightly. “Do you like it, Kitten?” Namjoon asks, receiving a nod from you.

Your mind doesn’t think any further as you comply with your immediate instinct. You stand up just to sit on his lap, placing your hands on his broad chest. He was surprisingly quick to wrap his strong arms around your body. “Good…” you mumble.

“Good?” he smirks, “What do you mean, Kitten? Is the collar good?”

“Yes, but… m-me.”

Namjoon tries to connect the things that you were saying. “You? What about you?”

“I’m good,” you pull yourself closer to him until your bodies touch each other. Crooning your head beneath his chin, Namjoon can feel your fluffy ears ticking his jawline. “I’m good,” you repeat.

“Yeah baby, shit,” he inhales your scent, cupping the back of your head firmly as he pulls you tighter to him, “Good girl. You’re a good girl. My good fucking kitten – aww fuck – what a-are you doing?” He was taken aback when you suddenly start grinding your hips on his jean-clad crotch.

Your core tingles, a delightful sensation you’ve haven’t felt before. Your cheeks heat up, his neck looking so delicious. Something takes over you and you instantly lean forward, attaching your mouth on his neck. Namjoon hisses as he feels your teeth dig into his skin. The way you whimpered while you ground down on him harder fueled the fire inside of him.

“Kitten,” he growls, twitching as you lick his neck. “You want your reward, yeah? Do you think you’re good enough to deserve to see my cock?”

The way he used his voice; deep, demeaning, and teasing, caused you to let out a quiet moan. “Yes… p-please!”

“Yeah, you do?” he smirks, “Then strip. Let’s see if you can follow instructions and do as you’re told.”

Standing up, you removed every single inch of the clothing. You were waiting for him to say stop, but he waits until you were fully naked. Shyly, you finally pulled your cotton panties down, stepping out from it. You couldn’t grab the courage to gaze at him, for his eyes were like lasers that’ll melt you if you look.

“Take my cock out.”

You were needy for you’ve never felt this way before. Everything was too overwhelming. You kneel on the floor and wasted no time to unbutton and unzip his jeans while he took off his shirt. You were salivating.

He was shocked by your eagerness. He helps you tug his jeans down, before guiding you to pull his briefs down as well.

Eyes almost bulging out of your sockets, they widen as his half-hard cock finally comes to show. Namjoon laughs lightly from your reaction, closing your parted mouth with his fingers beneath your chin.

‘Whatever!’ You think, before taking matters in your own hand.

“Fuck!” Namjoon bucks his hips when you suddenly grabbed the base of his cock, leaving a wet and sloppy lick from his balls up to his tip. His body shivers, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head. “Fucking bitch…” he mutters under his breath.

A cheeky giggle, a mischievous smile, all of those caused Namjoon to let out a disapproving sigh. He harshly cups your jaw, “Did I tell you to do that, huh?” he forces two long fingers inside your mouth, making you choke on it, “Did I?”

His slender digits hit the back of your throat, making you gag. Shaking your head profusely as an answer, he chuckles.

“That’s right, I didn’t. Have you forgotten everything that I’ve taught you already, huh?” Namjoon uses his strength to carry you from the floor to lay you down on the bed behind him. His cock throbs from the way you were clenching your legs together, desperate for some sort of friction down there.

“Spread your legs.” He commands.

Hesitantly, you hike your legs up to plant your feet on the mattress. Namjoon withholds his urge to just dive right in your pussy, for it was too fucking long since he’s tasted one. “Go on, kitten. Let me see your cute pussy.”

His words alone were enough to make you shiver. You mewl in embarrassment as you displayed your cunt all to himself, spreading your knees apart.

“Oh, fuck,” he exhales, “you’re dripping.” He starts to slowly run his big, warm hand up and down your thigh, heightening your sensitivity. “Who made you this wet, hm?”

“Joon...” you squeak as he inches his hand closer and closer to your throbbing heat. Bucking your hips up, you try to meet with his hand but it only resulted in him pulling away.

“Me? I see, kitten.” He grins before laying down on his stomach, his head in front of your pussy as he gets ready to eat you out. His lips slightly brush against your inner thighs, prodding his tongue out to lick around your core. Your legs involuntarily jerk from the weird yet erotic feeling. “What made you wet?”

“D-Don’t know,” you whisper. It was true that you didn’t know. All that you knew that you became needy for him and that’s it. There was no reason why. Namjoon clicks his tongue and stops you from bucking your hips too much. He growls and pins your hips down. “Stay. Still.”

Without wasting any more time, he doesn’t go for the ‘gentler’ route for he was quick to lick a firm, heavy line from your dripping hole and to your clit. He watches your body’s immediate reaction, trembling. He keeps his eye contact with you as he does this a second time, hearing your loud, heavy pants.

“Feel good?” Namjoon mutters, “Do you want more? Or do you want us to stop—”

“No! No!” you instantly reply with a shake of your head, “M-More please!”

Please. He was satisfied with your answer and dived back in. He firstly teases your slick by giving fast-paced licks on your wet folds, drawing patterns, and figure eights to bring you to blissful pleasure. You arch your back, whimpering from the newly discovered feeling. It was scary to feel so good, but you can’t stop.

“This pussy tastes so fucking good, mmngg…” he wraps his mouth around your little clit, sucking harshly on it. He smirks in the process because of your constant cute noises. He watches your face twist in satisfaction, your neck and chest dampening from the accumulation of sweat.

“You like that, hm? Like my tongue playing with your cute, sweet virgin pussy?” he groans before continuing his work on you, both sucking and flicking quick licks on your clit at the same time. Your body writhes on the bed, your hands going down to grip onto his hair. Namjoon grunts from your sudden sharp tugs, the pain making his cock twitch. Namjoon was unconsciously grinding his hips down on the bed, resulting in a few moans and delightful hums coming out of him.

“Yeah? Wait until I fucking tear your tight pussy apart with my thick cock.”

The wet, slurping noises added to the heat and sensuality of it all. He collects the juices that dripped down your entrance on his tongue, tasting your sweet nectar. Your scent was addicting, so sweet, and it just made him want to eat you out on his bed all day and make you cum again and again.

“Ooohh m-my—aaaghh!” You suddenly felt a rapid, burning sensation when Namjoon decided to insert the tip of his middle finger inside your pussy. Your walls were tight around his digit and it only urged him to push it in deeper. “Mhmm, there you go,” he chuckles darkly, “Fucking take it, Kitten, wanna stretch your pussy walls out. You don’t wanna disappoint your master, do you?”

‘Master?!’ Your face lights up, eyes enlarging.

Namjoon sees your reaction to his words, knowing damn well what he’s doing to you.

“You heard me, Kitten.” Namjoon pumps his digit at a steady pace, trying to find your sweet spot. “I’m gonna fucking own you after I fuck this cunt.”

He alternates between sucking your clit and thrashing his wet, warm tongue along your slit, all while his finger was moving oh-so-slowly inside of you. You pulled on his hair harder as he eagerly ate your pussy out need to make you feel good. “Master… master!” you pant, starting to see stars, “I— oohh please!”

“Hold it.” He commands with a rough voice, “Hold your fucking cum, or I’m not gonna fuck you.”

You whimper loudly, thrashing your head side to side from the overwhelming sensation. Your core feels like it was about to burst any second as it tightens and tightens. “Master!” you squeal, legs shaking when he starts to rapidly flick your clit. Namjoon didn’t care that you were thrusting your hips so frantically up against him anymore, he finds it so hot that you are so reckless.

You obey and held yourself from cumming, just as he told you. You wanted to be obedient and follow his instructions. With a final, harsh lick of your soaked cunt, he denies your orgasm and allows himself to lean back and see the mess he’s created.

Face fucked out and cheeks blushing, chest heaving up and down, your cunt throbbing in a desire to cum. You look so perfect.

“Master,” you cry, “More…”

“More? Awwh, my pretty kitten wants more?” he bites down on his lip, wrapping his hand around his cock to stroke it a couple of times. “Aren’t you fucking ashamed of yourself for being such a horny slut for your master?”

You watch his actions with wide eyes, noticing some white liquid pouring out from his tip. Namjoon collects his precum and lathers it all over his shaft, hissing in pleasure.

“Master’s gonna fuck your tiny cunt with his cock now. It’s big, isn’t it?” he smirks, dimples peeking through.

You nod shyly. ‘How is it gonna fit?’

He shifts his position until he was hovering above you, legs on either side of yours. He traps your body with his arms. “Who’s my good girl?” he asks in a deep whisper, lips ghosting against yours. He aligns the tip of his cock upon your entrance, “Tell me, baby. Who’s my good, obedient little kitten?”

“I-I am, master.”

“Correct. I want you to always remember that, slut.” Namjoon abruptly shoves the tip of his cock in, stretching your pussy out and letting your walls accommodate his thick, big size. You gasp loudly, eyes rolling back as your hips quiver in pleasure.

Namjoon surpasses a moan, crooning his head in between your neck and shoulders. He starts to thrust hastily, not letting you adjust. “There, there. Take that dick. Your pussy’s fucking made for me, kitten.”

There was a slight sting of pain as Namjoon starts pounding, but you try to push it to the back of your mind and focusing on the new feeling. Your mouth gapes, the sounds escaping were fast-paced ah’s after every hard thrust.

Your hands were quick to wrap around Namjoon’s body before your fingers suddenly scratch his back. He grunts loudly from the sharp, stinging pain of your nails. “Kitten… fucking shit,” he moans, “K-Keep doing that… o-okay? You can scratch my back any… aah yea—anytime.”

Your scratches caused bright red marks on his skin, but the sting was driving him to fuck you harder. “Aww, fuck, my poor little pet,” Namjoon says through an airy moan, “Want master to stop? Hm?” he angles his hips better so that he can hit that certain sweet spot inside of you. “Is it too much for your bratty cunt to handle?”

”Wrap your legs around your master, c’mon baby, let me fuck you deeper,” Namjoon grunts once you obeyed, his big cock doing its job to make you feel good, wanting him to be your only first and last cock you’re ever going to get.

His tip rubs up against your g-spot, hitting such unexplored places. You arched your back as your legs shook violently, “Oh, oh, oh, oh—!” high-pitched moans erupt from you with every thrust. “S-So good!”

His lips tickle the side of your neck, teasingly giving wet, sloppy kisses. Your body shivers, being your neck a newly-found sensitive place. “Master…” you whimper, closing your eyes, “Please…”

“Please what, kitten? Do you want to cum, mhm? Cum around your master’s dick?” He says in a teasing way, assuming how much you liked it when he talks dirty because of your pussy constantly tightening around his dick.

Everything around you feels and sounds lewd; the two of you were moaning without care of whoever’s listening, his balls were slapping against your ass, bodies so close together. His neck looks so good right now, the skin beading with sweat, and you can’t stop your temptation to taste him.

Leaning forward, you open your mouth and clasped your sharp teeth down on his neck, whining in the process. Namjoon shudders, biting his lip from the delicious pain. He leans his head more to the side to allow you more access.

“Fucking fuck,” groaning, he grabs your neck and pushes you away from him. “Turn the fuck around, kitten. Lay on your stomach, yeah that’s it.”

You turn around and there on Namjoon’s sight was your pretty, white tail. He bites his lip and gives it a taunting tug, making you wiggle your butt. With the new position, he pounds your pussy while his hips continuously bounce against your ass.

“A-Ahh, there we go. You like it when I fuck you raw?” he growls against your ear. “Mhm, yeah I know you do. You like the feeling of my cock drilling your pussy, right? You want someone to coat this pure little pussy with cum.” Namjoon starts to feel animalistic once he wraps his strong, muscular arms around your neck, bringing you into a tight chokehold. You couldn’t hold back your squeals, feeling hot as he restricts your breathing.

His thrusts turn inhumanely fast, “So tight, fuuuuck kitten. I’m gonna fucking burst my cum into you, make you fucking pregnant with my kids, oh god—” Namjoon doesn’t care about what he says, his words falling carelessly out of his mouth, “You would want that, do you? Your body probably isn’t ready to carry my children, hm? But oh goodness fuck you would look so good,” the fantasy continues to play in his mind, fueling him to pound you harder with his rock solid cock, “You’d look so fucking hot, your little belly so round. I wanna fill your tight, warm pussy up ‘til the brim and watch it pour out. You want that?”

You feel dizzy, all too intoxicated with his cock and his dirty words. You only nod for you can’t bring yourself to talk.

“Of course you do, you’re gonna take master’s cum like a good kitten, yeah? Wanna cum with me, baby?” his voice becomes a little high-pitched, cock twitching inside of you, “Just let it all go, baby. Don’t hold back. I’ve got you, you’re safe with me, Y/n.”

You didn’t know how you did it, or why it happened, but you feel yourself coming undone on his thick cock. Your body feels like it was going limp as it keeps shaking and trembling, although his arms were there to keep you in your place. Namjoon sighs as he feels your walls clench so tightly around him, pulsating furiously as you soak his cock with your white, sticky liquid.

“There… fuck yea, that’s my good girl,” he moans, “cum all over me.”

Namjoon swivels his hips in circles, humping you like a fucking dog on a rut.

“Master…!” you wail loudly, practically screaming, “Puh…please!”

Namjoon hasn’t cummed so hard in a long time. His seed spurts deep inside of you, coating you up with his liquid. His thrusts became sloppy, hips jolting for his cock was throbbing so hard. “Shit, shit, shit, shit,” He pants while wrapping his hand around your neck, tightening his hold so that your collar can strangle you. “Take my cum, take it nice and deep, kitten. Fuck you’re such a good girl for master.”

After coming undone, Namjoon pulls out and watches his cum mixed with yours drip down your pussy. It was such an erotic sight, almost reminding him like all those pornos he’s watched. Your tail was hiked straight up into the air, burying your face into the pillow as you purr.

Namjoon flips you back over so that he can see your face. He watches your chest rise up and down in an attempt to catch your breath. You whimper quietly.

“Hm, what is it, kitten?” he strokes your cheek tenderly with the back of his hand.

“Again.”

“Again?!” Namjoon laughs breathily, eyes wide. “Want a round two?”

“Yes, master.” You nod with a frivolous grin.

“What will you say?” He dives his hand down to play with your collar, running his fingers against the studs. “What’s the word, kitten?”

You plead with your eyes, lips forming a pout as you’ve never felt so needy in your entire life. The whole ride felt so good and you wanted to do it again and again and again with him, allowing the two of you to strengthen your bond together. You’re trusting him your entire life, you’re submitting to him. And you’ve never felt safer than before.

“Please.”

His lips connect with yours for a quick, light kiss, “Good.”

Ironically, the next day, Elijah had come knocking at Namjoon’s door with a set of papers in his hand. Namjoon had a protective stance with his arms crossed, eyeing the dude up and down.

‘So this is the guy who exploited my kitten…’

Although Elijah had absolutely no clue that he was talking to the Kim Namjoon of BTS. He was stuttering as he talks, hands shaking.

“I-I’m here to give… oh, uh… the— you know… p-papers… sir.” Elijah gulps, trying his best to keep eye contact with the much taller, bigger man in front of him. “Since, uh, y-you… well I guess since you o-own Y/n now… right?”

Namjoon wanted to punch his face so badly.

Before he replies, Namjoon hears the soft pitter-patter of your feet coming near, until they stop. He turns around to see you frozen in your spot behind him, anger, sadness, and disappointment were written across your face as you saw Elijah. Your blood boils and you quickly stride towards him, wanting to hurt him as he hurt you. You’ve never realized until now how much of an asshole he was towards you in comparison to Namjoon’s kindhearted self. Namjoon has shown you what it actually means to take care of you without all of the abuse that you thought was normal.

“Hey, hey, Kitten,” Namjoon was quick to hold you back before you can even lay a finger on Elijah. He turns you around and holds your face in his hands, “Be good and stay in our room, okay? I’ll be there in a minute,” he sees that your eyes were starting to well up with tears. He clicks his tongue, “Kitten… you don’t have to be afraid, okay? Remember what I always tell you?”

‘I’m gonna keep you safe.’ The sentence reappears in your mind.

With a final nod, you take the chance to give Elijah a scornful look before scurrying back to your room.

Elijah was watching the whole scene unfold with a surprisingly shocked look on his face. “How is she… Y/n’s so—”

“Stop. I don’t want to hear her fucking name coming out of your mouth,” Namjoon spits, grabbing the adoption papers from his hand.

“Well, how the fuck is she so good to you now?! She’s never like that when she’s with me!” Elijah argues.

“Are you dumb? The reason’s so simple. You didn’t train her properly and all you gave her was abuse. Why have a fucking hybrid in the first place…” he trails off while shaking his head in incredulity. “Now step out of my compound for I might just punch you in the face.”

Elijah immediately felt the chills in the back of his neck from the celebrity’s harsh words. “S-Sorry sir,” he raises his hands in an attempt to defend himself, “It will never happen again.”

“If only you’d apologize to Y/n like that.” Without any more final words, he slams the door shut on Elijah’s dumbfounded face.

The two of you couldn’t be any happier. Namjoon had signed the papers and can officially say that he claims you – in every context as possible. He sees you sitting idly on the couch, your eyes focused on the TV as you watched a Dwayne Johnson action movie. Chuckling at how cute you looked, he can’t seem to focus on the breakfast meal he was cooking.

It was until he feels his phone ring, signaling that there was a caller. He reads the I.D.

‘Kim Taehyung.’

He answers the call, “Hello, good morning, Taehyung!”

“Namjoon,” he starts with a strict, domineering tone, catching Namjoon off-guard, “Check the news. Check the news right now, hyung.”

“Woah, woah, woah!” he panics, leaving the kitchen as he speed-walks to you. You watch him in curiosity as he tries to find the remote. “What’s wrong? Is it about us?!”

“Just take a look!” Taehyung half whispers, and half screams.

Namjoon flips through the channels, ignoring your whine that you abruptly disturbed your movie.

His chest instantly tightens from the news headline.

‘RM from BTS spotted with a cat hybrid, along with an unknown man in front of his doorstep!’

Namjoon’s palms sweat, Taehyung’s voice being muffled out from the thoughts that were slowly eating him alive. Namjoon curses under his breath, feeling a sharp sting in his chest. “Oh god…” he shakes his head, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

The news showed an awfully clear picture of him holding Y/n’s face from yesterday, her tail and ears easily caught in the frame. “Did RM just bought a hybrid?” the female news reported says, “The person who took this photo claims that the man in front of RM looked extremely terrified. What could’ve been their conversation?”

As Namjoon was visibly panicking, not knowing what to do – you on the other hand was thrilled to see such a familiar face on the television screen.

“Master!” you squeal, pointing your index finger at the TV, “You!” Taking a closer look, you squint your eyes. After a couple of seconds later, you gasped. It finally dawned upon you.

“And… me?!”

Sorry if there were any errors. I’ve already read this numerous of times and every time, I somehow find a new typo. Gosh.

Thank you for reading! Your support is genuinely appreciated. Ily guys, take care <3

#namjoon oneshot #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #btssmutcentral #btsguild #hyunglinenetwork #namjoon smut #jimin smut #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #hoseok smut #seokjin smut #yoongi smut #namjoon hybrid #bts hybrid #hybrid au

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nagimitsus · 3 years ago

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Title: somewhere along the line

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Synopsis: For all his delicate appearance, Venti has always been incredibly strong.

Diluc has known this from the start. Before the traveler entered their lives, before the battles, before he saw him standing in front of a dragon, ready to give everything in exchange for the freedom of another. And Diluc had thought, now that is how a god should behave.

That is someone I could believe in.

[Read on AO3!]

For all his delicate appearance, Venti has always been incredibly strong.

That is someone I could believe in.

It should come as a surprise, the amount of respect that he has gathered for the bard of melodious voice that makes himself at home only at his tavern. But it doesn’t. Maybe Diluc felt a pang of nuisance at first, when he thought of Venti only as a drunkard with too many stories to tell.

That was before he came to know him. Before the nights when his smile became sad after too many bottles of wine, small and nostalgic and unfitting in such a bright face. Before he understood that there was still a raw wound behind those eyes of his, still bleeding as much as Diluc’s own.

Diluc took the habit of offering him a glass of water and telling him to go home. The sensation of discomfort that nested his chest when Venti smiled up at him and asked what home was he talking about made Diluc wince.

At some point between that and the whole Dvalin situation, he stops asking Venti to go home and starts keeping him company until the silent streets of Mondstadt, illuminated only by the moon and the stars, call back for its bard.

When Venti leaves, his smile is a bit more grateful and a lit less lonely, and Diluc tells him “I hope you find something more rewarding to spend your time on, tomorrow” but thinks See you later.

Venti laughs. It sounds like a breeze. “What’s more rewarding than wine, I wonder?” he says, and has the audacity to wink.

Diluc sighs, because there’s nothing else he can do.

The thing about Venti is that he doesn’t want to be worshipped.

He doesn’t. It’s made clear in the way he behaves, the way he doesn’t stop too much in front of the church unless it’s to perform, the way he talks to the citizens of his country as if they were more friends than subjects. And it’s not because he likes the freedom that comes with anonymity, it’s not because of his own wants or needs.

It’s because he wants them to be free, in this city where there are no tyrants and no gods. This city where they can follow the winds and their hearts alike, bound by nothing but their own ideals.

Diluc protects Mondstadt, fiercely. Because he loves everything it represents and everything it stands for.

And likewise, he protects the god that gifted them all of this.

Venti stops by the Winery of Dawn sometimes. Diluc finds him trying to steal wine or sleeping inside a barrel, and thinks: this is not a deity, this is a raccoon.

Still, because he has a bit of faith left in him and because he used to go to church with his father back in the day, Diluc takes him by the back of his cape and into the house, where he makes sure he’s put to rest in one of their spare rooms, with enough water on his bed table to deal with the hangover.

By the next morning he’s always gone, but the wind blows gently through the open window.

Sometimes, if he’s still sober enough to string a few words together when Diluc takes him in, Venti laughs, and clings to his shoulders with both arms, and says things like “I can sing for you if you desire it, Master Diluc”, with that sweet voice blurry but cheerful.

Diluc sits him down before the fireplace on those occasions, just so he can make sure that Venti drinks enough water and doesn’t do something like throwing up into his own mouth and suffocating on it.

What a troublesome bard, Diluc thinks. The thought is covered in affection anyway, and he has to sigh to himself at that. Venti blinks slowly at him, almost as if he could know what’s crossing his mind just by looking at him, and then he leans in his direction with a drunken smile that makes Diluc roll his eyes.

“You,” Venti says, slowly but with intent, “are a very good person. Do you know that, Master Diluc?”

The reaction is immediate. Diluc can feel it start on his stomach and creep up until his head, his ears, his hands. It’s a fuzzy sentiment that makes home on his chest and purrs like a cat, a reminder of how good it is to be acknowledged.

Diluc looks back at Venti’s eyes, clear even in his state.

When he was young, he wondered how the truly religious felt. He asked Jean once, eleven or so, as little Barbara tried to sign in tone with the croaking of a frog. And Jean, always patient and warm, had said: I don’t think it can be explained.

But it can.

Diluc feels like he’s being hugged by a tornado and cradled by the breeze at the same time. It’s excruciating and infuriating and exhilarating, and it’s making a knot into his stomach, reddening his ears.

He scoffs lightly, but his voice is not unkind when he says:

“And you are very drunk.”

Venti laughs at that, and the sound reverberates in the space of the room.

The only reason Diluc doesn’t leave is because he’s still afraid that Venti will throw up all over himself.

(The traveler comes.

The traveler comes, they fight against Dvalin, and Diluc has to see Venti’s slender form fly across the battlefield when the dragon hits him once. Even when he gets up immediately, smiling through the pain, the knot that he made in Diluc’s stomach twitches and hurts.

He makes sure to tell Barbara that the bard got hurt once they go back to Mondstadt, and ignores the perplexed look that he sends his way.)

Venti doesn’t come to the winery for a few weeks after the Dvalin incident, and they don’t meet up at the tavern either. Diluc would be worried, if he didn’t see him here and there, talking to Kaeya or playing a simple tune for Klee (who he seems to adore, if the warm look in his eyes as the little girl tries to harmonize with him.)

Diluc is not prone to lie to himself, so he doesn’t even try to deny that he misses Venti’s annoying presence. Still, since the traveler left for Liyue, the whole town seems to have subdued, its upbeat attitude turned into a dull sense of longing.

Someone knocks on his door one night, almost sixteen days after he saw Venti for the last time. And of course, as fate would have it, it’s the bard himself who’s waiting at the other side.

Rain is not unusual in Mondstadt, even when they’re accustomed to a gentle drizzle, so most citizens have learned to take an umbrella with them when the spring is creeping on them.

Venti is dripping wet, and there’s something in the way his clothes cling to the line of his shoulders that make him straight up sad, almost pathetic. Still, the gleam on his eyes is a tell-tale that he’s been drinking, and the curve of his smile is too close to loneliness. It stirs something in Diluc, calls for the silent understanding of their nights in the tavern.

He doesn’t say anything, just takes a step to the side to let him in.

The maids will find awfully unpleasant the wetness on the carpet, Diluc’s mind supplies, but it’s difficult to care when Venti smiles like rain and alcohol and apples, all mixed up. His mere presence tends to be intoxicating, with the way he takes so much space with his voice and his laugh and his music, but it’s even worse now. Maybe it’s because Diluc has become unaccustomed to it.

“Do you need somewhere to stay?” Diluc asks after a few seconds. Venti’s smile is still sad, but it’s there nonetheless.

If this were any other person, the sound of the wind outside might have drowned their words. But Venti has never known how to be quiet, and so Diluc hears him without any trouble:

“You care about me, don’t you, Master Diluc?”

He sighs, and closes the door. The storm becomes a muted sound behind the wood and the steel, and somehow that adds to the intimate atmosphere that this scene carries. Diluc can feel it at his throat, the warning, the threat that comes with the closeness. He talks through it.

“I don’t think you’ve made all the way here just to point out the obvious, bard.”

He turns then, and Venti is still there, looking straight into him. In the pit of his eyes there’s an ancient kind of loneliness that makes him look terribly old. It’s in times like this when it becomes easy to think of him as a god. Again, Diluc thinks of what being religious means, thinks of kissing his temple and his hands until pink and red go back to his skin, thinks of drying his hair and lending him a bed.

That’s not the kind of devotion that a God requires. But for Venti, who would treat the cathedral built in his name just to see Klee smile, who dirties his hands helping Sucrose with her work and runs away from Diona between laughs whenever she gets angry at him, it might be enough.

Venti laughs. The sound is enough to loosen the muscles of Diluc’s tense shoulders.

“I haven’t,” Venti says, and then he turns around and walks into the house as if it belongs to him. Diluc follows, waiting for him to go on. Since he doesn’t, he adds:

“I’m not going to serve you wine here,” just to make sure that’s out of the table.

Venti hums, amused. He goes straight to the fireplace, sticking both hands in front of the flames. Diluc stops just three steps away from him, taking a few seconds to stare at the side of his face, shadows dancing over the curves of his nose, his eyebrows, his neck.

“I lost something important,” Venti says at least, his voice soft, “and my power has decreased drastically.”

Diluc frowns before he can stop himself. Venti looks at him with that same smile that doesn’t suit him, even as he’s winking, probably trying to downplay his own words.

“Worst possible time too, right?”

Diluc would know. The Abyss Order’s activity is still on rise, and the Fatui are getting bolder every passing day. He knows the Knights of Favonious are not good enough to keep them all at bay, not enough to protect all of Mondstadt, bound by the laws and diplomacy and their own duty.

Even so,

“I’m still here,” he reminds him, as if it was obvious. “And Jean will do everything in her power.”

Venti looks at him through the corner of his eye for a second before he’s turning his whole body, hands on his hips. He giggles again, and even though the sound is far off the usual, it doesn’t sound as tense as his last words.

“Are you saying you will protect me, Master Diluc?”

Diluc doesn’t roll his eyes, because he’s not keen on the gesture, but he hopes that the expression on his face is enough to convey his feelings of fond frustration. One can’t be serious with Venti around unless someone is in immediate danger, it seems.

“I am saying that if my actions can bestow some peace upon you, know that I’ll keep protecting Mondstadt.”

Venti takes a step in his direction, then another. When his hands close around Diluc’s white shirt, they leave wet marks that extend through the cloth under his fingers, cold against his skin. The flower on his hat has lost at least two petals in the rain, but his eyes are alive and warm as they look straight into Diluc’s red ones.

He doesn’t feel the need to confess, doesn’t want to kneel down and ask for forgiveness for his sins. But he wants to keep Venti here nonetheless, in the intimacy of the room illuminated only by the flames. Maybe that’s a thought that needs absolution.

“You,” Venti says, very slowly, “are a very good person. Did you know that, Master Diluc?”

He smirks, the little shit. Diluc doesn’t bother to answer this time, because he’s too busy trying to calm down the beating of his heart as Venti gets on his tiptoes, one hand going to his shoulder, the other remaining on his chest.

Diluc leans down into the kiss, and it’s impossible to think of a god when the laugh that he swallows in his own mouth it’s so undeniably Venti.

#genshin impact #genshin impact fic #diluven #dilven #diluc ragnvindr #venti #diluven fic #diluc x venti

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kurokoros · 4 years ago

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thigh-highs | kuroo

Rated: M

Words: 5K

Pairing: kuroo x fem!reader

Summary: The black cat printed thigh-highs were meant to be a joke. You should have known better than to tease Kuroo.

AN: I don’t have an explanation for this other than headcanoning that Kuroo would go feral over those thigh-highs with cat faces at the top.

Warnings: smut, thigh-high kink, teasing, oral (fem receiving), edging, orgasm control/denial, over-stimulation, dirty talk (praise and degradation), spanking, mild choking, hair pulling, very mild pet play (kuroo calls you pet once), creampie

The black cat printed thigh-highs were meant to be a joke.

You were out shopping with a friend when you saw them, mistaking them for plain socks until you noticed the adorable cat faces that made up the cuff. Immediately, they made you think of Kuroo and his former teammates, and the urge to buy them was a whim you just couldn’t ignore.

Maybe you just wanted to get back at him for all of the times he’s teased you relentlessly over the years you’ve known him. You figured you would get one perfect look of shock from him before he’d laugh at your choice in socks, and then maybe tease you a little, but not like this.

Nothing could have prepared you for the way his gaze sharpened as soon as you walked into the room. As soon as you stepped into the living room where he was studying, wearing nothing but those cat socks and one of his old shirts, Kuroo only had eyes for you. It only took a second for his gaze to lock onto your bare thighs, a throaty, appreciative sound leaving him as he drank in the sight of you. The way his eyes widened momentarily upon seeing the cute cat faces just above your knees made you grin.

Of course, it didn’t last. As soon as you were within his reach, Kuroo’s hands were on your thighs and ass, groping and squeezing as he pulled you down to him. Your shirt was gone before you knew it, your back pressed to the couch as he buried his face between your thighs.

The black cat printed thigh-highs were meant to be a joke, but you’d be a liar if you said this isn’t exactly what you wanted.

As if he can tell what you’re thinking, Kuroo pauses.

There’s a predatory glint in his eyes when he glances up at you. Kuroo grins against the inside of your thigh, watching you with catlike interest as you take a slow, shuddering breath beneath him. The way his mouth wanders over your soft skin is almost lazy. Bored. But there’s a flicker of something unmistakably hungry in his expression when you whisper a whiny version of his name. He’s toying with you. Teasing you as he follows the hem of your thigh-highs with his lips, hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin.

His thumb strokes back and forth across the underside of your thigh as he hooks your leg further over his shoulder. The feel of his calloused fingers on your skin makes your legs clench around his head, but he pries them apart easily, chuckling as you moan under his rough touch.

It’s dirty, looking at him between your legs, watching as he kisses across your thigh. The way the soft fabric of your sock brushes against his cheek is almost innocent, but the wicked gleam in his eyes is anything but. The pair of cartoonish cats staring back at you on either side of his head only makes it worse. It’s absolutely sinful. And he revels in it.

“Tetsu,” you whimper, arching your back off the couch as he nips at you. Your heels dig into his back, but that only encourages him to dig his teeth into you harder. This time, you cry out louder, eyes squeezing shut at the intoxicating mixture of pleasure pain, and Kuroo’s smug satisfaction only grows with every gasp and moan that slips from your pretty mouth. “Please.”

Your fingers fly to the back of his head, fisting at his hair, and Kuroo breathes an amused sound as he releases you. There are teeth marks nettled on your thigh. You’re sure they’ll bruise later, leaving a tender spot that you’ll feel for days, but for now you just sigh as he presses a soft kiss to the spot he marked.

It would be sweet, if you couldn’t feel him grinning.

“Is this what you wanted?” Kuroo questions, tone mocking. He looks up at you from between your legs again. “You come out here in these,” slipping a finger beneath the edge of your stocking, Kuroo pulls the fabric only to let it snap back against your skin, and you jolt, “dressed like a naughty little slut. Trying to tease me.” He drags his teeth across your thigh. “Come on, kitten, you should know better than that.”

Groaning as you pull his hair, Kuroo mouths at you again. His tongue dips out to tease you, a slow lick across your skin. The cold air he blows against you makes you shiver. Content to keep making you squirm, he latches onto a spot a little higher on your leg, just above where he bit you before.

As he sucks a bruise onto your thigh and listens to you whimper, Kuroo is barely able to muffle another groan of his own. Each tremble and shudder of your legs around his head makes his cock twitch.

You had to know, he thinks. You had to know exactly what these cute little thigh-highs would do to him. He’s always been crazy about your thighs—your legs, your ass, anything he can get his hands on—and he’s not embarrassed to admit how badly those socks have him wanting to bend you over and fuck your tight pussy until you’re screaming for him. But, no, that would be too easy. He can’t give you exactly what you want when you’ve been so naughty.

He’s going to make you beg first.

You arch off the couch, gasping, “You like it,” as he trails warm, wet kisses all the way to the edge of your panties. He digs his teeth into you again, slapping the outside of your thigh as a warning. “Tetsu,” you mewl, trying to roll your hips against his mouth, only for him to force you back down. “Please. I need—” you cut off with a soundless cry when he brushes his finger against the front of your panties.

“Shit, you’re wet,” Kuroo murmurs, pressing his thumb against your clit over the damp fabric between your legs. Your thighs squeeze around his head, muscles twitching as he rubs your sensitive nerves in agonizingly slow circles. The heat of his breath fans across your damp slit, and he chuckles when you yank at his hair and dig your heels into his back, desperately trying to pull him closer, much to his amusement. “I’ve barely even touched you yet. Do you want my cock that bad? My mouth?”

You shudder hard beneath him, whining. He smirks. Another sweet kiss is pressed against the inside of your leg. “Fuck,” he groans, slapping your thigh before resuming his ironclad grip on you. “Look at you, such a needy slut.” He shoves your panties to the side, revealing your dripping cunt. Your thighs start to clench as his breath fans over your slick folds. “Good enough to eat,” he teases you, glancing at you.

A pathetic mewl of his name is all you manage to say, anticipation making it difficult to think, let alone speak. The relentless way he teased you has you desperate for him to touch you, taste you, make you sob around his cock as he fucks you. But you’re too tongue-tied to say it.

“I bet that’s what you want,” he continues, tracing your slit with the pad of his thumb. Clear fluid sticks to his skin, and you shiver as he draws his thumb around your clit in lazy circles. His touch is too light to give you any real satisfaction. “You want me to eat you out?” Kuroo asks you, pressing down a little harder. “Make you cum all over my tongue before I fuck that tight pussy with my cock?” He laughs as you whimper. “Greedy little whore. You just can’t wait to get stuffed full of my cum, can you?”

Kuroo looks at you like he wants to devour you. Ruin you. And you’re going to let him. Ever since you walked into the room, it’s been nothing but a game of cat and mouse that you never had a chance of winning. He’s been batting you around, playing with you like you’re a cute toy he can’t wait to break.

There was just something about those cute little socks of yours. Those adorable, cartoon cats printed across your thighs. Or maybe it was the way you looked at him. So innocent, playing coy like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing to him.

Suddenly, your clit is pinched between two of his fingers.

You moan, thighs clenching tighter around his head as you yank at his hair. “Tetsu,” you gasp over his own throaty moan. “Tetsu, please, I need you. I—uh.” He pinches your clit again, rolling it between his fingers. “Oh, god. Please.”

“That’s it, kitten,” he murmurs against your thigh, pulling his fingers away, “beg for it.” He takes your clit between his lips and sucks.

A high-pitched, breathy squeal tears from your throat as his wet mouth envelops you, his tongue teasing you with wet kitten-licks that have you squirming. Kuroo grunts as you pull his hair a little too hard, the sound vibrating against your cunt as he continues to lick and suck at your slick skin, lapping at your folds and teasing you with the tip of his tongue.

You toss your head back against the couch as he eats you out. Through half-lidded eyes, you watch him work between your legs. The sloppy, wet sounds of his tongue fucking you make you tremble. He’s holding you open easily, ravishing you, and he almost moans as he swipes his tongue across your cunt.

Kuroo pulls his gaze away from your pussy to look at you, and it’s downright sinful when he drags his tongue across his bottom lip, licking away your arousal. “Fuck, you taste good,” he groans, forcing your hips back down as you try to arch against him. “So fucking wet for me.”

That’s the only thing he says before diving back into you.

“Tetsu,” you shriek, tears welling in your eyes as he grinds his tongue against your clit in a way that steals your breath, the slick muscle moving against you roughly. You shudder, struggling to keep your eyes open as pleasure rapidly builds between your thighs.

Kuroo knows just how to make you fall apart around him, every trick to have you cumming hard and fast. And he knows just how to take it away.

The coil in your stomach is already wound tight from his relentless teasing, your nerves frayed and your breath coming out in pathetic gasps and whimpers. Every sound has Kuroo’s cock twitching painfully, but he resists the urge to grind down against the couch to relieve the ache. No, he has to teach you a lesson first. One you won’t forget.

And the signs are there. You’re clawing at him, hips stuttering as you try to grind against his mouth. High-pitched sounds keep falling from your pretty mouth, but you’re too far gone for him to make out anything beyond mindless pleas and swears. It’s his name on your tongue that sounds the sweetest.

You’re close. You’re so close that it almost hurts. The coil in your gut is wound tight, knot so close to unraveling. Your thighs are quivering around his head, your inner walls threatening to clench around nothing.

And just as the pleasure starts to be too much, Kuroo tears his mouth and sinfully talented tongue away from your aching clit.

The lack of sensation has you crying out, your building orgasm ripped away from you just like that.

Teeth dig into the side of your thigh, biting down hard enough to leave behind a mark. “Did you think you could tease me and I wouldn’t punish you for it?” Kuroo sneers, landing a harsh slap against your thigh before reaching around to grab your ass. “No, no, no, kitten, you should know better than that. You know better than to try and tease me.” The next swipe of his tongue across your clit almost makes you sob.

He leaves you like that, teetering just on the edge, waiting for you to come down only to lave attention to your sensitive clit. You’re panting under him, trying so hard to rock your hips against his mouth, but he’s stronger than you, muscled arms keeping you pinned to the couch even as you whimper. Weakly, you tug at his hair again, and Kuroo chuckles. His gaze is dark and predatory as he looks down at you.

“If you wanna cum this time, you better beg like the slut you are.” He grazes you with his teeth. Then, he leans in, hot breath fanning over your dripping pussy just to make you squirm. “You can do that, can’t you?” Kuroo doesn’t give you a chance to respond. You’ve barely caught your breath before he’s back between your legs, eating you out like he’s starving.

You’re wetter than before, and he’s sloppier, making a filthy mess of you. His tongue is hot against you clit, swirling in tight circles that leave you lightheaded, and then he switches to lapping at your cunt. Kuroo is rough with you, relentlessly eating you out despite the slow building ache in his jaw. Nothing can pull him from your sweet taste when he gets like this.

“Come on, kitten,” he chastises, squeezing your thighs. “You can do so much better than that. Fucking beg me to let you cum.”

As his tongue returns to teasing your clit, your heels dig into his lower back, yanking him even closer. His hair is soft between your fingers, his naturally messy look further ruined by your gripping and pulling. Your fingernails drag across his scalp, and he groans. The sound vibrates against you. By now, your eyes are squeezed shut, your lips parted as you pant and cry out beneath him.

You’ve started begging for real this time, nonsense slurred from your mouth as you tell him how good he makes you feel, how desperate you are for his cock. Neither of you pay attention to the words, it’s the sweet sound of your voice that makes Kuroo damn near growl against your sloppy, wet cunt.

He releases his grip on one of your legs, and then his hand is between your legs, his fingers tracing your slit. Below him, you tense expectantly, breath hitching. For once, he doesn’t tease you, giving you exactly what you want as two of his fingers thrust inside your slick pussy.

Kuroo’s fingers are long and thick, bigger and better than your own, and the pleasant burn as he stretches you out makes you whimper. Expertly, he curls his digits, easily finding the sweet spot along the top of your wet walls that make you writhe and cry out for him. More tears well in your eyes, the pleasure bordering on too much, too fast, but fuck if it isn’t exactly what you want right now.

Hazel eyes stare up at you from between your legs, Kuroo watching each minute shift in your expression, from the way your lips part when he spreads his fingers, to the subtle furrow of your brow when he flicks the tip of his tongue against your clit. Every detail is filed away, branded into his mind.

Pleasure coils into a tight little ball in your stomach, liquid arousal shooting through your veins with every talented swipe of his tongue and rough thrust of his fingers. You bite your lip in a feeble attempt to stifle a moan. Your panting is loud, but the wet sound of his fingers and tongue against your pussy is louder, and it would be embarrassing if you weren’t so on edge already.

Alternating between curling and spreading his fingers, Kuroo pace is fast and rough, determined to drag you right back to the edge he had you on only moments ago. He sucks on your clit, laps at it, and then he grazes you with his teeth until you’re whimpering and squirming against the couch.

By now that familiar knot in your stomach is so tight that it hurts. Kuroo has you exactly where he wants you, so, so close to cumming, but before you can lose yourself in the sensations, give into the pleasure, his fingers still inside you. Kuroo pulls his lips and tongue from your sensitive clit long enough to edge you again. This time, the tears building in the corners of your eyes spill over and slide down your cheeks.

“Tetsu,” his name leaves your lips in a breathless whimper.

“Was that cruel, kitten?” he asks mockingly, voice dripping with fake sympathy. The cuff of your sock snaps against your thigh, the stinging slap sending jolts of arousal straight to your clit. “I bet you wanna cum so badly, don’t you?” He kisses your thigh. “Well, that’s too fucking bad.”

The flat of Kuroo’s tongue drags over your clit before he takes it between his lips again. A soundless cry leaves your mouth at the sensation, your eyes squeezing shut tightly as his fingers resume their fast pace. His tongue rolls over your swollen, puffy clit, toying with you. You’re practically chanting his name by now, sounds reduced to fractured pleas and nonsensical phrases that neither of you can make out. Sick pride bursts in his chest when he realizes he’s turned you into an absolute mess.

“You gonna cum on my tongue?” Kuroo murmurs as your thighs start to clench. “You better not. No, only good girls get to cum.” It’s a warning, low and throaty, and you know he’ll punish you again if you cum without permission, but you’re so far gone that you couldn’t hold back if you wanted to.

You want so badly to grind yourself against Kuroo’s mouth as his fingers reach a spot that makes your toes curl. “Tetsu,” you whine, weakly pulling his hair as his laughter vibrates against your clit. “Fuck, please, let me cum. Please. I can’t—”

The rest of your begging chokes off as Kuroo pinches your clit between his teeth. Something inside you snaps when he does that. The coil inside of you is wound tight, pleasure and pain blurring together as he practically drags you to the edge and lets you fall. You come apart underneath him, warmth bursting in your lower belly as you writhe against the couch. Your thighs clench around his head. Your fingers yank his hair. Pleasure overwhelms you and leaves you a whimpering mess, your entire body taut as your orgasm finally rips through you, making you cum hard on his fingers and tongue.

Kuroo’s fingers continue to thrust and curl inside of you, not giving you a moment to breathe as he draws out your orgasm, overstimulating you until it hurts.

“Tetsu,” you whine, trying to squirm away instead of towards him this time. He only pins you down harder, his fingers biting into your thigh hard enough to bruise. He swirls the tip of his tongue around your clit. “Fuck, Tetsu—” You try to tell him that you can’t, that it’s too much, but he doesn’t care.

“What’s wrong, kitten? I thought you wanted to cum?” he says, voice dripping with contempt. “You wanted it so fucking bad you came without permission. Naughty slut. So, why don’t you cum again?”

The rough, mocking tone of his voice followed by his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking is what throws you over a second time. He fucks you through it, pace slowing as your pussy flutters weakly around his fingers.

He pulls away from you slowly, peppering butterfly kisses across your thigh before allowing your legs to slide from their position over his shoulders. You wince, muscles cramped, and fall limp against the couch when he slides his fingers from your sensitive cunt. Through half-lidded eyes, you watch as Kuroo pops his fingers into his mouth to clean them.

You’re still breathless and shaking when Kuroo fists a hand in your hair and yanks you up against him. A squeal sticks in your throat. Your breathing hitches as he presses his lips against your ear.

“Did you really think we were done?” he coos, cupping the back of your neck. Your thighs squeeze together, your skin slick with sweat and spit. “Get up.”

You do as you’re told. Your legs tremble beneath you as you slide off the couch, and Kuroo grabs your thighs to steady you as you stand in front of him. His thumbs brush against your skin soothingly as he squeezes your thighs, his gaze flitting between your dripping cunt and your cum sliding down your thigh, inching closer and closer to the cuffs of your cute socks.

“Now be a good girl and strip for me,” Kuroo demands, hands sliding around to grope your ass.

The command hits you in the chest. Heat churns in your stomach as he drags his hands over your skin, and you wet your lips. You reach around your back to unclasp your bra, allowing the fabric to slide down your arms before you let it drop to the floor. Your panties follow, the soaked fabric shimmying down your hips and falling to your ankles. When you reach for the hem of one of your socks, Kuroo grabs your wrists and yanks them away.

“No, no, no,” he chastises you, standing up and backing you away from the couch, “those stay on, kitten.” You let him pull you to the side of the couch, the arm pressed against the back of your thighs. “Did you think you could come in here with these,” he squeezes your upper thighs, “on display with those fucking socks and I wouldn’t fuck you in them?” The implication makes your breath catch. Kuroo’s big hands grab your naked hips, his covered cock grinding against your thigh. “Isn’t that exactly what you wanted? Don’t be shy now, kitten.”

You almost want to lie. Deny it. But all you do is nod, unable to speak.

His hands slide up your sides until he’s clutching your waist. “Good,” he breathes. “Now bend over right fucking now.”

When you don’t comply fast enough, surprised at the demand, Kuroo yanks you around himself, bending you over the arm of the couch. He slaps your ass hard, causing you to cry out. Kuroo spanks you a second time, lower on your thigh, and you squeeze your thighs together to keep from dripping on the couch. Prepared for a third, you’re surprised when he spreads you apart from behind instead.

Kuroo’s thick cock slides between your thighs, hard and dripping with pre-cum as he grinds against your wet cunt. Your legs shake as the head of his cock rubs against your clit, still so sensitive from his earlier abuse.

He rocks against you slowly, groaning low in his throat as your thighs swallow him up. “I could just fuck you like this,” Kuroo muses, thrusting against you. “Cum all over your thighs for being so naughty, but where’s the fun in that?” One of his hands slides up the center of your back until he’s grabbing your throat and forcing your head down harder against the couch. Your back is arched for him beautifully, and he nearly groans again at the sight. “I’m going to stuff you full of my cum, kitten.”

That’s the only warning you get before he shifts his hips and ruts against you. You moan as his cock shoves deep inside you, your walls clenching around him weakly as he stretches you out. Between his fingers and the orgasms, he’s softened you up for him, but the position he has you in, bent over like this, makes him feel so, so big inside you.

He grunts. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

Kuroo fucks you hard. There’s no slow climb or adjustment as his hips pound against your ass, driving down against the couch with each rough thrust against your wet cunt. Still sensitive from before, you can only whimper his name as he fucks you. The fingers wrapped around your throat squeeze tightly enough to steal your breath, and your pussy clenches around him.

The wet sound of his cock splitting you open with each brutal thrust makes you shiver. Kuroo pulls on your socks to let the fabric slap against you skin, each soft snap sending a jolt of pleasure right to your swollen clit.

“So fucking wet.” Kuroo grabs your ass, panting as he watches your pussy swallow him with every thrust. He’s not going to last long. Not after teasing you, tasting you. Not with those fucking socks making your thighs look so fucking good. He squeezes your throat, choking you, and relishes the way you whimper around his name. “Such a good girl,” he praises you.

Bent over like this, the couch brushes against your puffy clit with every roll of his hips against yours, the stimulation making you squirm. It’s too much. He’s going to make you cum again if he keeps fucking you like this.

“Look at you, taking it like such a good girl, kitten,” Kuroo continues, loosening his grip on your hip. “My good little pet,” he spits, thrusting his cock deep inside you, slapping your ass hard. Your pussy clenches around him, a choked sound coming from your mouth as your body trembles beneath him. His laughter reverberates though you. “Fuck, you really are a little slut, aren’t you? Taking your master’s cock just like that.”

Kuroo slides his arm around your hips to rub your puffy clit with two fingers.

You sob as another wave of pleasure shudders through you. Hips jerking against his, you twitch and moan as he plays with your clit, determined to wring one more orgasm out of your spent body before he’s done. “Tetsu,” you whimper, eyes squeezed shut as he continues to fuck you into the couch.

The call of his name makes his hand tighten around your throat. He rubs your clit harder, faster, pinching down on your puffy nerve until you’re shaking even harder.

Kuroo swears as your pussy clenches around him, squeezing him tighter with every rough thrust against your dripping cunt. Sweat drips down the side of his face as he pants. Kuroo squeezes his eyes shut, focusing on the slick, filthy sound of his cock pounding inside you and the breathy sounds you’re making, too exhausted to do more than whimper and gasp under him.

Hiking your hips up higher, Kuroo adjusts you for a better angle, forcing your face down harder against the couch as you stretch onto your toes. By now, your tears are soaking into the couch, your sounds muffled by the fabric.

“You like that, kitten?” he asks you, rough fingers rolling over your clit in fast circles. “You like taking your master’s cock?” You must nod, because Kuroo breathes a laugh as he shoves his cock inside you. “Be a good little pet and cum for me again.”

He pinches your clit and the tight coil in your stomach snaps. Your third orgasm tears through you, white-hot and so, so good. It steals the breath from your lungs, and your hips jerk back against Kuroo’s cock so hard that he chokes on a moan. You only whimper as you spasm around him.

Kuroo fucks you through it, his steady rhythm giving away to frantic rolls of his hips as he chases his own release, thrusting against you even after you become boneless beneath him. His fingers slow against your clit, but don’t stop, and the aftershocks that jolt through you are more painful than pleasurable this time, drawing out your orgasm until you can barely stand it.

With a loud, “fuck” Kuroo shoves his cock as deep inside of you as he can reach, moaning as he cums inside of your throbbing cunt. Hot, thick fluid fills you up, your pussy still fluttering around him sporadically as he rocks against you. You’re both panting as he pulls out, and you wince as you feel his cum start to drip from you.

You sag against the couch. Kuroo’s tight grip loosens around your throat, and you sigh as he leans over you, lips pressing sweet kisses across the back of your shoulder as he rubs your hips.

Bonus:

“I can’t believe cat socks turned you on that much,” you murmur sleepily, curling against his side as Kuroo kisses your temple. “I thought you’d laugh.”

Kuroo cracks open an eye to look at you on his chest, fingers still kneading your tense inner thighs until you soften beneath his skilled hands. It took a while for him to coax you off the couch and into bed with him, your legs wobbly and your body sore from how rough he was. He’s been nothing but gentle with you since, kissing you sweetly as he cleaned you up and murmuring soothing praise against your ear.

“Thigh-highs are sexy,” he tells you, hand drifting down to tug on one of the cat ears on your socks, which he still hasn’t let you take off.

You snort, breath fanning over his neck. “They have cartoon cats on them.”

He pinches your thigh just hard enough to make you squeak. “Don’t act all innocent,” he says, rolling his eyes. “If you didn’t want me to fuck you in them, you shouldn’t have worn them.”

Weakly, you smack his chest. “Horny bastard,” you grumble, pouting because he’s right. He gave you exactly what you wanted and then some, so you really can’t complain.

“That’s rude kitten,” he chastises. “And you were being such a good pet for your master earlier. Do I need to punish you again?” His lips curl into a naughty grin, his fingers already creeping across your thigh.

“Tetsurou!”

#kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq smut #haikyuu!!#hq #hqdrabbles

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ghostieliving · 2 years ago

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Don't let a cat stay the whole night on a full moon

I moved into a new house, small town, everyone seems to know each other and everyone talks. When my neighbours saw the moving van outside the old bungalow, they came over in droves, bringing food for the new person, offering to help me unpack. It was nice, this is only my second move and, with the help of basically the entire neighborhood, I ended up getting unpacked way faster than expected. I'd been worrying about getting groceries because the deposit on the place left me pretty broke, but given that I'm still getting a steady stream of home baked pies and invitations to eat in my neighbors houses, I've not even had to think about going shopping. There is something... Odd, though.

Apparently tomorrow night, there's a full moon. I'm not generally one to keep up with that kind of thing, I don't really associate with many shifters and the ones where I've lived before haven't had much of a reputation for causing trouble. Here though? There's some signs up, warning that there's a full moon, and usually with some kind of warning about not letting cats stay the whole night. It's weird, I've not seen anything like that before and no one really wants to talk about why this has become a thing here. Places I've lived before had too many packs and prides of larger shifters for there to be that many smaller ones, apart from maybe the occasional fox that got brought home from uni by younger members of some of the wolf pack. Maybe this is normal in places where there's a higher population of small sized shifters? I probably shouldn't worry about it, can't be too hard to keep myself from letting a strange cat stay over on one night of the month...

Bill came over with firewood this morning, which is nice. I only moved in about a week ago and hadn't thought to try out the fire, just been bundling up in warm clothes and blankets like I always did when I was too worried about the gas bill to put on the heating. This place doesn't have central heating, just a wood burning stove that's set up in some special way to heat the whole house, and a fireplace in the living room. Bill set up the stove for me and showed me how to keep it safely stoked, which was very nice of him. He's promised to keep me stocked up with firewood like he did for the previous tenant, who was apparently a very sweet old lady who everyone seemed to think of as their grandmother, said she'd make the best hot chocolate. I gave him a hat I'd made awhile ago that matched the shirt he was wearing as thanks and he grinned in a way that warmed the room more than the freshly burning stove. He has cute bucked teeth, kind of like a beaver, maybe he's a shifter? Are beaver shifters even a thing? Might explain why he has so much firewood to spare.

My not associating with any shifters isn't out of any kind of prejudice, my parents had sent me to human only schools growing up because they were the easiest to get to, and I didn't go to uni or anything and then I managed to land a job that doesn't need me to be physically in the office. My spare time is taken up with reading and crochet, I don't get out that often. Moving here and being enveloped by such a close knit neighborhood is probably the most socialising I've done since secondary school. Maybe they sensed how lonely I've been...

It's full moon night now, I was right, Bill and his family are beaver shifters. I got a note apologizing in advance for if they strayed a bit further from their dam than usual and chewed my fence or something, and a promise to fix any damage they might cause. I'll be sure to go out and check in the morning, assuming it's not too wet out. It's raining pretty heavily...

There's a scratching at my front door, and a rather pathetic meowing, I guess this is the cat I was warned about. Jeez it sounds so sad... And there's thunder coming in now, poor thing must be terrified. I peak out the window and an absolutely drenched black cat with massive green eyes looks up at me and meows louder, I can't just make it stay out in the rain, that'd be cruel. I go to the door and hesitate with my hand on the doorknob, the signs just said not to let cats stay the whole night. Surely it wouldn't hurt to let the poor thing in just until the rain stops... I open the door and the cat blinks slowly up at me before coming in, shivering.

"Okay, cat, I've seen the signs, you're not staying all night." I say, keeping my voice gentle as I close the door behind it and go grab a towel. I don't know if it can understand me, it probably can't. Even if it is a shifter and not just a normal stray cat, I'm pretty sure shifters don't have full control of their minds on a full moon. The cat rolls around in the towel when I put it down near the warm stove. When the cat seems mostly dry I toss a ball of yarn that I'd gotten awhile ago but not used because of it being the wrong texture down for it to play with, and open a book. I'll just let it stay until the storm dies down...

I don't remember when I fell asleep, I definitely didn't mean to, the book is open on my chest and not safely back on the shelf with a book mark in it. Here I am though, blinking awake with the sun coming in through the slightly open curtains and smelling... Fish? Smells like someone's frying the salmon that Misha had brought around a couple of days ago. Weird, the neighbors don't have much of a sense of privacy but they usually at least knock before coming in... I rub my eyes and go into the kitchen.

There's a short man with black hair, some well groomed stubble, and striking green eyes stood with a spatula poking at the two salmon fillets in the frying pan, wearing nothing but the towel I'd put down for... The cat.

Right. The cat. The cat I was going to make go back outside when the storm had died down. The cat who's purring had put me to sleep last night. The cat that I should not have allowed to stay the whole night because there were signs everywhere saying not to on a full moon. The cat who is now a pretty little man frying up some salmon for breakfast in my kitchen.

"Uh... Hi, do you have a name, cat?" I say, still tired, and liking the smell of the salmon.

He jumps a little but then looks at up grins up at me, "Hey, I'm Nip, I'm your new housemate."

#short story #shape shifters #cat #cats #to be continued if people show interest #long post

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the-modernmary · 4 years ago

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my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 2)

Chapter summary: After the interrogation, you and Aaron go back to your place. Smut, this is all smut.

Warnings: smut, degradation, spitting, oral sex (m recieving), handcuffs, gags. If you are a minor, do not interact!!

masterlist || read on ao3

I'll be your temporary fix

You can call me

I'm always what you like

Let me be your good night

-One Direction, “Temporary Fix”

~~~~~~~

They couldn’t get you out of the police station fast enough. You mindlessly rubbed your wrist where the handcuffs had previously been attached, only half listening as another agent- Prentiss, you think was her name- came into the room to explain that you would need to report to the BAU tomorrow so they could brief you, or something like that. Your mind was too busy wandering, fantasizing about all the things Aaron would do to you.

“One of the uniformed officers will drive you home,” Prentiss finally said, and you jumped out of the seat embarrassingly fast.

What should have only been a five minute drive felt like hours, and your eyes were glued to your phone, hoping for a text or something, anything , from Aaron. With the exception of a few texts from your friends asking where you were, there was nothing. Part of you wondered if Aaron was just going to bail. Maybe he got to his car and decided that he wanted nothing to do with you now that he was healed after his divorce. Maybe he just had a moment of weakness in the interrogation room and once you were out of his sight, he came to his senses.

You got back to your apartment right as you were about to go into a full blown rejection panic. The cop asked you something, but you just ignored him as you slid out of the car, already planning on popping open that 4 dollar Trader Joe’s wine you had in your fridge. That is, until you saw Aaron sitting on the bench outside of your apartment, rubbing his thumb over his fingertips. You told yourself that the joy that flooded you when you saw him was just you excited at the prospect of getting fucked.

Aaron looked up at you as soon as he heard the click of your heels on the pavement. You just smirked at him as you took your keys out of your purse. “Wow, you really couldn’t wait, could you?” you told him, forcing yourself to not spare him more than a passing glance.

As soon as you got to the door, Aaron was immediately behind you, his hands exploring your body and his lips attaching themselves to your neck. You fought to keep your focus on unlocking your front door, but your hands were shaking as you attempted to get your key in the lock.

Aaron brought his hand under your shirt and let his fingertips drag over your bra, smirking as you let out a gasp. “What?” he whispered into your ear, and his lips brushing the skin of your ear sent shivers down your body. “No more smart ass comments? Does being around me make you stupid? Stupid and desperate is what you are.”

It took way too long, but you finally got the door unlocked and swung open. Before you could even make a move, Aaron had you inside and pressed up against the wall, caging you in with his hands. He took a moment to take you in, his hungry eyes running up and down your body, thinking of all the ways he was going to punish and pleasure you. “You must be really proud of that little stunt you pulled in the interrogation room,” he hissed into your ear. “You were so mouthy to my team and to me. Did you think you’d be able to get away with it without being punished?”

He watched your chest rise and fall as you took in uneven breaths. “No… no sir,” you panted, and Aaron just let out a condescending laugh. It was almost pathetic how quickly you submitted to Aaron- he hadn’t even kissed you yet for fuck’s sake- but he always knew the exact buttons he needed to push to make you putty in his hands.

Without warning, Aaron crashed his lips onto yours roughly, not even giving you a chance to catch your breath. Your hands immediately pushed off his blazer and tossed it off to the side. One of his hands stayed on the wall next to your head, but the other arm found its way around you and pulled your hips towards his. Your back arched as he deepened this kiss, his teeth tugging on the skin of your lips. The hand that was around your waist slowly moved across your body until it reached the button of your jeans, popping it open and letting his fingertips ghost across the waistband of your panties.

“Please…” you choked out, unable to form a full sentence.

A cheshire cat smile erupted across Aaron’s face as his other hand moved to the back of your head. “You lost all your nerve now, didn’t you? Use your words. Ask me for it. Beg me for it.” He punctuated his last order with a sharp tug of your hair, causing you to cry out. Aaron’s lips eagerly attached themselves to your neck.

“God, fuck, please touch me, please…” you whined, squeezing your thighs together to try and offer some release. Aaron shoved your legs apart with his feet and slipped his fingers into your panties, going straight to your clit. You moaned out his name, thankful he didn’t spend more time teasing you the way he usually did. You could feel his arousal pressed against you. Despite his collected exterior, it was comforting to know that Aaron craved this as much as you did.

“You’re so wet, all for me,” Aaron mumbled against your neck. “Which means you must still be my filthy slut. Or maybe it’s because nobody else can get you off. They were probably all too nice to you, telling you that you were a good girl.”

You gasped, nodding desperately. Aaron’s fingers worked faster on your clit and you could feel your legs start to give out. You were about to cum embarrassingly fast, and you couldn’t even be bothered to care. All the while, Aaron was still whispering to you. “But you don't get off on people being nice to you, do you? You want me to be mean to you, like the whore you are.”

The only words that could come out of your mouth was some combination of “Aaron” and “please”. You were writhing and desperate for him, a fact that only seemed to encourage him. You clutched onto his shoulders as he slipped two fingers into you, lazily pumping them in and out.

“Please, Aaron,” you moaned out, your nails digging into his shirt. “I’m so close, I’m gonna-”

He pulled his hand away from you, stopping your impending orgasm in its tracks.

“No!” you cried out, your breathing shallow. “What the fuck was that?”

Aaron pulled off his tie, ignoring your pleas for him to keep touching you. “Strip for me,” he ordered, and you did as he asked quickly, tossing your clothes to the side. As soon as you were fully naked, he flipped you around so that your back was to him, your arms pinned to your back and your chest pressed against the wall. You could hear the sound of metal behind you and you just smirked.

The cool metal of his handcuffs clicked around your wrists. “Do you think the police officer who had me in this position just a few hours ago was just as turned on as you are right now?” you mused, keeping your voice as light as possible. If he was going to deny you your orgasm, you were going to take the time to piss him off.

Once the cuffs were on, Aaron flipped you back around, pressing you against the wall with his hand around your throat, squeezing lightly. “Oh, so you want to be a mouthy brat, huh?” he hissed. You grinned, which only made him angrier and he tightened his grip on your throat. Aaron held you there for a few seconds, watching you as you gasped for breath. Once he was satisfied, he let go of you. “Get on your knees. I’ll show you what your mouth is good for.”

“Yes sir,” you whispered. Without ever breaking eye contact, you slowly lowered yourself to the ground. He made quick work of his own clothes, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the sight of him naked. You hadn’t realized how much you missed that view. His hand gripped your hair roughly, pulling it so that you were looking up at him.

“Do you remember our safe words?” he asked. His movements were harsh, but his words betrayed a sense of softness.

You nodded quickly but corrected yourself before he could punish you. “Yes sir,” you breathed, but he just looked at your expectantly. “Yellow to slow, red to stop.”

Aaron hummed approvingly, but his eyes glinted wickedly. “And if you can’t speak?”

You took a shaky breath, the unspoken promise of what he was suggesting sending shivers down your spine. “Two taps.”

Aaron smirked and grabbed onto your jaw, forcing your mouth open. “Good girl. Now I’m going to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours.”

It wasn’t easy with your hands behind your back, but you slowly licked his length from base to tip before wrapping your lips around him, never once breaking eye contact. You swirled your tongue around his tip, savoring the taste of him.

Aaron let out a low, guttural moan as he gripped your hair tightly. “Fuck, I almost forgot how good you are at that.” He pushed your head down a little further, forcing you to take more of him in, and you were happy to oblige.

Aaron immediately started at a brutal pace, thrusting into your mouth with no warning. Tears pricked at your eyes as you began to gag slightly, but that only seemed to encourage him more. Your wrists burned as you tugged at the handcuffs, desperate to be able to touch him. You could feel your spit running down your chin, and you wondered briefly what Aaron thought when he saw you like this- bound, crying, and gagging on his cock. The thought made your pussy throb.

“You’re so pretty,” Aaron groaned out, his thrusts becoming erratic. “My pretty little cock slut, so desperate to please.”

His words ripped a moan from your mouth. He pumped into you a few more times before pulling you off of him, making you whimper. There was a trail of spit going from your mouth to the tip of his dick. You tried to move towards him, wanting to take him into your mouth again, but his hand in your hair kept you in place.

“Oh, did you want me to cum in your mouth?” he mocked.

You wanted to sob because of how badly you wanted him. You wanted to do nothing more than to please him and have him reward you for it. “Yes, fuck. I wanted to swallow your load please, sir.”

You had hoped your begging would be enough, and for a second, you thought it worked. Your mouth was open and ready for him, giving him the most innocent look you could muster. But instead of finishing himself off, he leaned down and spit in your mouth. You kept your eyes on him as you swallowed, the way you knew he liked.

“Filthy bitch,” he murmured, but there was a hint of adoration in his voice.

He pulled you up so that you were standing. “Needy brats don’t get what they want, they get what they deserve. Now I want you to go to the bedroom and wait like a good girl for me. And don’t you dare think about finding a way to get yourself off or I swear to god, you won’t cum for a week. Got it?”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Yes, sir. Whatever you want.” He gave your ass a quick slap as you made your way towards your bedroom on shaking legs. Once you got there, you sat nicely on the edge of your bed, not daring to make a move. You wanted nothing more than for him to fuck you, but you knew him better than that. Your punishment wasn’t over yet.

It couldn’t have been more than three minutes since you had been left alone, but already the need was taking over you. You rubbed your thigh together, hoping that the friction would relieve some of the tension you were feeling. You looked at the clock on your nightstand- five minutes had passed. You were starting to get restless as you stared at the door, waiting for Aaron to come in.

You realized quickly that this was his plan all along- handcuff you and leave you exposed and alone in an empty room. It was the interrogation all over again, except this time he could treat you exactly the way he wanted to. The thought made you wetter than you would have liked to admit.

You wanted to be good for him, you really did, but the anticipation was getting to be too much. Against your better judgment, you ground down on the bedsheets, hoping to relieve some of the pressure that was building up. But as fate would have it, Aaron came walking in at that exact moment, his tie clenched in his hands.

There was anger in his eyes, but there was also a flash of pride, like his plan had worked exactly the way he wanted it to. Knowing Aaron Hotchner, it probably did. “Looks like you’re such a needy slut that you couldn’t even wait for me,” he said, his voice dangerously calm.

You tugged slightly on your handcuffs. “I’m sorry sir,” you begged, eyeing the tie in his hand. “I just needed to be touched so badly, please.”

His eyes raked up and down your body, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body. He stepped closer to you and softly brushed the back of his hand across your cheek, giving you a false sense of security. Maybe he missed fucking you so much that he didn’t want to waste time punishing you. Although, you were never that lucky.

Aaron grabbed you by the back of the neck and threw you so that you were bent over the edge of your bed. “I’m getting tired of hearing your voice,” he practically taunted. “You wanted to be a brat and invoke the 5th, all just to get my attention? Well now you have my attention, and now I don’t want to hear another fucking word from you.”

The realization hit you half a second before Aaron forced your mouth open. He placed the tie in your mouth and tied it around your head so that you were effectively gagged. You let out little whimpers, but that was all you were able to get out.

Aaron used his foot to spread your legs apart before thrusting into you, not giving you a chance to get used to the feeling. A muffled moan escaped your throat, which seemed to amuse Aaron. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunted, his hands pressing your shoulders into the bed. “So tight and so willing for me. Taking my cock so good.”

One of his hands wrapped around the front of your throat, pulling you up and off the sheets. His other hand went straight to your clit. You let out a tiny gasp through your gag. Your whole body felt on fire, as Aaron thrusted into you so roughly that you thought you were going to be split in half. And you loved every second of it.

He continued to pound into you as you gasped for breath. All you could think and feel was Aaron, Aaron, Aaron. The mixture of pain and pleasure was almost euphoric, and you could feel your orgasm creeping up on you.

Aaron could feel it, too, based on the way your pussy clenched around him. This only encouraged him to quicken his pace, his cock hitting you in all the right spots. “I’m going to fill you with my cum and remind you who this pussy belongs to,” he groaned, his hips starting to sputter erratically.

His fingers on your clit moved faster, staying right where you needed him, and you cried out through your makeshift gag. Aaron finally decided to take mercy on you as he bent forward to whisper in your ear. “Be my good little cock whore and cum.”

That was all you needed. Your whole body shook as your orgasm hit you, and you cried out his name the best you could. Tears fell down your face freely as he fucked you through your orgasm, your walls clenching around him.

Not much longer later, Aaron came, too, his grip on you loosening. You fell face first onto the bed, relishing in the feeling of him spilling into you, his cock twitching. When he pulled out, he pulled out slowly, savoring every moment he was in you. You stayed there, desperately trying to catch your breath while Aaron untied your gag. He threw the tie to the side, placing a soft kiss in between your shoulder blades.

“You did so good. My good girl,” he whispered softly into your ear as he turned you around so that you could sit on the edge of the bed. “I’m going to go grab the keys to the cuffs, alright?” He placed another kiss on your forehead before quickly shuffling out of the room.

Still coming down from your orgasm, Aaron was back in the room before you even fully realized he was gone. He quickly released your wrists, rubbing each of them softly to get the blood flow fully back. You had almost forgotten the best part of sex with Aaron- he was fucking great at aftercare.

You wanted to say something, but your brain was still trying to catch up with what was happening at the moment. Luckily for you, Aaron must have still known where everything in your room was, because, after a few seconds of shuffling around, he came back to the bed with lotion and pajamas. “Do you need a shower?” he asked, wiping away your smudged mascara the best he could.

You looked at him properly for the first time since your orgasm. “No, I’m okay,” you told him, thoroughly blissed out. A chuckle escaped your lips. “I just haven’t gotten fucked that good in… a while.”

Aaron smiled- a real smile that made your heart melt. “A while as in two years?” he teased, and you just shoved him lightly. He started to put the lotion on your sore wrists, but he never took his eyes off you.

You just laughed at his comment. Now that you were more grounded and you could actually think about what happened, there were a million things you wanted to ask him, but knew that now was not the time. Instead, you settled on keeping the conversation light. “I think I have an extra pair of guy’s sweatpants in one of my drawers if you were planning on staying the night.”

Okay, so not as light as you expected, but Aaron seemed to be intrigued at the offer. It wasn’t a new thing for the two of you at all. When you first started sleeping with each other, the two of you spent the night at each other’s places all the time. When he wanted to spoil you a bit more, Aaron used to book a nice hotel room for the two of you to stay holed up in for a weekend. You each kept extra clothes at each other’s places because it was more convenient than having to wake up an hour earlier. It wasn’t unusual.

But that was when the two of you had been an unspoken thing. This felt like new territory for the both of you. Luckily Aaron just nodded as he finished with your wrists. “Thank you,” he said. “First, let me help you put on your clothes.” You lifted your arms as he helped you get into an oversized shirt. Once that was on, you walked to your dresser and slipped on a pair of boyshorts before tossing Aaron the pair of sweatpants.

You slid into the bed and watched as he put on the sweatpants. They were just slightly too big, so they hung teasingly low on his hips. You loved seeing Aaron like this, calmer and more relaxed. It was like he could shed the “SSA Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief” personality he had built up and finally breathe. He looked lighter and happier, like he could actually enjoy life. His eyes caught yours, and he just raised his eyebrows, a lazy smile gracing his face.

“You know, staring is considered rude to most people,” he joked, climbing into bed.

You just shrugged, stifling a yawn. “You won’t let me take a picture, so my memory is the next best thing I have.” You curled up into the sheets, the heat slowly leaving your body.

Aaron must have noticed this because he wrapped one arm around you, watching as your eyes slowly closed. “Go to bed, Y/N,” he whispered, his thumb slowly stroking your skin. “We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

You were about to make a dirty comment back until you realized what he meant. There was a murderer on the loose, and you apparently knew them. Not the best pillow talk. You shoved it out of your mind, already feeling yourself falling asleep. “Goodnight, Aaron,” you mumbled, your head resting on his chest.

He probably said goodnight, but you couldn’t hear. You just let the sounds of his soft breathing and the feeling of his chest rising up and down lure you to sleep.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotcner smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #my best habit #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #my writing

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fellulahh · 4 years ago

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The Point of No Return - Part 6/???, Diavolo x MC x Lucifer

Read Parts 1-5 here!

—

“You needn’t worry about her, Lucifer.” Diavolo insisted, “MC will always be safe while she is in my company.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Lucifer nodded.

Although that wasn’t actually what he was concerned about.

—

Satisfied with Lucifer’s response, Diavolo nodded before smiling once again.

“Well if that concludes our conversation, I’ll go and seek out MC if she’s free.” He stated, walking toward the door.

Lucifer opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself. Instead, he frowned as he watched Diavolo leave the room. Pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, he muttered to himself as he turned back around toward his desk.

Worry filled his mind as he stared at his workload. The only thing that seemed capable of making Lucifer relax was MC and he could feel her slipping into the grasps of Diavolo.

As he took a seat behind his desk, Lucifer’s eyes fell on the blanket on the armchair that MC had been tucked under only mere hours ago. He wondered whether he should have stayed with her rather than go to his own room.

But just as quickly as the thought entered his mind, it soon vanished again. Shaking his head, Lucifer’s focus returned to his work as he rid himself of such pathetic thoughts.

How could it be that he’d grown so protective over MC?

Meanwhile, striding down the hallways, Diavolo had a cheery grin on his face as he made his way through the house. As he approached the stair case, his large hand gripped the bannister before ascending them.

Making his way toward MC’s bedroom, he could hear her voice as he neared it. And as he appeared in the doorway, happiness filled him when his eyes fell on the human.

Sat on her bed with Asmodeus, he and MC were gossiping to each other when they noticed the colossal prince nearby. MC was busy telling the demon all about her day at the palace when Asmodeus quickly shushed her; perhaps not very subtly.

Turning around from her seat on the bed, MC raised her eyebrows after seeing Diavolo stood behind her.

“My Lord.” She breathed, “is everything okay?”

Asmodeus watched the pair of them eagerly. As soon as Diavolo had arrived that morning, he sprinted to MC’s room to tell her. Ever since finding out the human had been invited to the Prince’s palace alone, Asmodeus has been very keen to find out what was going on.

“Yes, there’s no need to look so sheepish.” Diavolo chuckled, entering the room. “I came to see how Lucifer was getting on.”

“Ah!” MC nodded with an awkward smile.

Diavolo had never come to her room alone before and with Asmo close by grinning like the Cheshire Cat, MC was lost for words.

“I expect you’re wondering why I’ve come to see you.” Diavolo chuckled, as though he could read MC’s mind, “I know we agreed for you to arrive at the palace this afternoon but I thought perhaps now that I’m here, you’d like to come with me now? Providing you’re not already occupied of course.”

He had a smile on his face as he made his offer to MC. She reciprocated the expression, surprised by him.

“Of course, my Lord.” She nodded.

“Excellent.” He grinned, “I’ll be waiting in the entranceway.”

The room was silent as Diavolo left. It wasn’t until his footsteps could no longer be heard that Asmo grabbed MC by the shoulders and turned her around.

“Right you can’t beat around the bush any longer, MC!” He insisted, “Why does Diavolo keep inviting you to the palace alone?!”

MC laughed at how enthusiastic he was and desperate to find out the truth.

“He likes to watch me play.” She admitted quietly.

“Play with what? His dick?” Asmo furrowed his eyebrows.

“No!” MC playfully shoved him on the shoulder, “it’s nothing like that, As. He found out from Lucifer that I play the piano and asked me if I’d perform at his jubilee. He invites me over to the palace so that I can practice.”

“Since when do you play an instrument?” He scrunched his face.

“Since when did you start asking me so many questions?” MC laughed as she got up.

Walking across the room, she grabbed her bag from a nearby chair while Asmo remained strewn across her bed.

“I’ll see you later.” She spoke as she hovered in the doorway.

“Let me know if he plays with your keys, won’t you?” Asmo asked with a sly grin on his face.

Rolling her eyes, MC walked away from the door. “It’s not like that!” She repeated from within the hallway.

Once she reached the staircase, her eyes fell on Diavolo who was stood at the bottom. He had his arms folded as he stared at one of the portraits on the wall; observing the demon within it.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, my Lord.” MC apologised as she quickly descended the steps.

Hearing her voice caused him to swiftly turn on his heel.

“Nonsense!” He beamed.

—

As the pair entered the palace, MC prepared herself to walk in the direction of the room with the piano in. Beginning to take off her jacket, Diavolo quickly stopped her.

“Here.” He spoke, assisting her with the sleeve.

MC blushed at his gesture, unable to believe the fact that Prince was the one helping her. “Is Barbatos not here?” She asked sheepishly as he walked toward the cloakroom to discard her outerwear.

“I’m sure he’s here somewhere.” Diavolo chuckled.

Returning to MC’s side, he smiled warmly at her; causing the human to feel even more nervous than before.

“Now MC, I have a confession for you.” He started, immediately worrying her.

“Is everything okay, my Lord?” She questioned quickly.

“Yes, there’s no need to panic.” He assured before pausing.

Diavolo had a content look on his face as he momentarily just focused on MC.

“Then what might be wrong?” She asked quietly.

“As much as I adore your talents I was wondering if today you’d like to take a break from playing for me.” He pondered, “tell me, MC, do you like flowers?”

“Flowers?” She questioned completely baffled, with a small smile appearing on her lips.

“Yes!” Diavolo grinned, amused by her confusion, “I’ve just had Barbatos touch up the palace gardens and wondered if you’d like to see them?”

MC’s heart completely eased having just thought Diavolo was going to drop a bombshell on her. She couldn’t help but smile at the goofy grin on the Prince’s face as he anticipated her answer.

Her skin grew warm as she met eyes with Diavolo.

“You worried me, my Lord.” She chuckled, “but yes, I’d love to see the gardens.”

“Excellent!” He beamed, “follow me.”

Walking through the palace, MC remained a few steps behind as she followed Diavolo. Her eyes never left him as she pondered over what was happening.

Surely the Prince should have other matters that need attending to rather than showing one of the exchange students around the gardens? Do Simeon, Solomon and Luke also get the same treatment?

Nevertheless, MC couldn’t help herself as she realised she enjoyed being in Diavolo’s company. And the thought that he didn’t only want her in the palace to play the piano for him made her heart flutter. She was beginning to see a much more genuine side to him and she looked forward to discovering more about the Prince.

“Here we are.” He spoke as they approached a colossal, golden framed door covered in windows. Turning the handle, Diavolo opened it and gestured for MC to pass.

“Thank you.” She breathed as she stepped outside.

She’d never seen the palace gardens before and it was everything she’d imagined and more. Diavolo could see the amazement in her eyes and felt a sense of satisfaction from it.

“Well, MC, you are my guest so please tell me: what would you like to see first?” He asked.

MC bit her lip as she thought to herself. She could already see masses of impressive topiary across the vast space in front of them. But, thinking back to the human realm, she turned her head to Diavolo.

“Do you have roses?” She asked.

“Roses?” He repeated, surprised. Usually when anybody was shown the gardens, they immediately expected to see the bush maze or vineyard, “yes, I have plenty of them.” He smiled.

Walking down the marble steps, the stones at the bottom crunched as Diavolo stepped foot on the path. Glancing over his shoulder, he held a hand out to MC as she carefully walked down behind him; trying to avoid slipping on the wet patches on each step.

As she looked up and saw Diavolo’s extended arm, her eyebrows raised.

“Not to sound rude but you look like a deer on ice.” He joked, “Allow me to help you.”

MC’s face immediately went red at Diavolo’s comment before she sheepishly lifted her hand and placed it in his large one. He gripped her gently as he steadied her body. With his support, MC made it to the stone path. The slippery steps were the least of her worries after the way she felt her heart thud at Diavolo’s contact.

“Right this way.” He guided as he let go of the human’s hand to direct her to the rose bushes.

The pair of them travelled around the side of the palace, with MC gawping at everything they passed. She’d seen gardens back in the human realm but none of them compared to Diavolo’s.

Remaining quiet as she absorbed her surroundings, MC let out a breath as they reached their destination.

“Roses: as requested.” Diavolo nodded with a grin.

MC smiled as her eyes fell on the rows and rows of various coloured flowers. They reminded her of home and how her Mother would always buy MC a bouquet every time she visited.

“They’re beautiful.” She gushed, stepping forward to appreciate them more.

Diavolo didn’t say anything as he watched MC admire her surroundings.

With his hands in his pockets, the Prince had rosey cheeks as his gaze never left the human’s wandering body.

“I’ve never seen anything like it!” MC spoke, causing him to laugh. “I wish my garden looked like this.”

Shaking his head, Diavolo chuckled to himself before his focus turned to one of the bushes that was beside him. Turning his body, he carefully pinched the stem of one of the white roses before plucking it from the rest. He made sure to pick the biggest, most beautiful one.

He slowly stepped forward to where MC was currently stood before holding out the flower to her. “Here.” He spoke, “one for you to take home seeing as you love them so much.”

MC turned her head and bit her lip. She admired the sight before her: Diavolo looking as handsome as ever with a rose between his fingers.

“Thank you, my Lord.” She smiled, accepting his gift. “You’ve been very kind to me.”

“It’s my job.” He returned the smile.

MC nodded sheepishly as her eyes fell on the rose he’d offered her. Meanwhile, Diavolo found himself staring at the human again.

Yes, he did enjoy her company. He enjoyed it very much so.

—

A/N: well Diavolo certainly showed his Princey charms in this chapter! I wonder if MC will tell anybody about the rose he gave her. After all, it’s purely a professional relationship they have, right??

#obey me #obey me shall we date

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illneverrecover · 5 years ago

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call you mine (M) | changkyun

➛pairing: Im Changkyun (I.M.) x reader ➛genre: friends with benefits!AU, non Idol!AU, angst, smut, fluff. ➛word count: 2,741 ➛rating: M ➛warnings: idk this is truly some sweet soft shit, mentions of alcohol, friends with benefits, standing sex, slight rough sex, biting/marking because clearly I have a kink, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of Mingi!!, lots of kissing, soft clown Chaingang truly. ➛summary: Changkyun knew he ruined your friends with benefits arrangement when he let his feelings be known, and now you’ve left him on read for weeks. So he does the only thing he can to stay sane - he religiously watches your Instagram stories. ➛notes: Another first for me - my first Monsta X fic! I’ve played around with writing Changkyun for a while now, mostly because I live to torture @taetaesbaebaepsae (which she deserves from all the PAINFUL and RUDE Baekhyun shit she’s written for me). However, she decided to actively commission her own demise, because she stays not listening to Namjoon and refuses to love herself. I’m glad I finally got a chance to take a stab at writing her ult, and I hope I did him justice! Enjoy your tomfoolery, Kristin! 💖 ➛song: Call You Mine - The Chainsmokers & Bebe Rexha | Horizon - I.M. & Elhae

It’s pathetic, he knows.

The way he can’t stop watching, the way he seeks your face out in an app full of millions of others. The way he can’t get you out of his bed, his head, his thoughts.

He fucked up, scared you off, and now he’s left with the aftermath of his own stupidity. Watching you through a screen to fight the withdrawals off, to keep his heart beating.

Changkyun knows you would laugh at him if you saw what he was doing.

Watching your Instagram stories is the only reason he’s heard you laugh in over two weeks, the only way he’s been able to see your eyes light up, your lips curve into a salacious grin. Things he fucking missed, thought he would have plenty of time to indulge in - until he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and ruined it.

He had taken you back to his place after a few shots of whisky at the dingy local bar, hands and mouth unable to leave your skin - just like the hundreds of times before. It had been four months since you had started this friends with benefits relationship, and despite having freedom to see whomever he wanted, Changkyun found himself only starving for you. So hungry that he couldn’t stand another moment in that place, watching you share your smile with anyone other than him. So he had tugged you close, nipped at your ear, told you that you were so damn beautiful that he couldn’t stand there another minute without you coming undone around him.

You had smirked, slid your hand down the front of his pants, grabbing his cock like you owned it, purring out the words “prove it” before following him outside, just like the hundreds of times before.

Pressed up against his wall, his pelvis flush with yours, Changkyun whispered filth in your ears as he ground up against you, swallowing your moans in greedy kisses. Desperate fingers had pulled at your top, freeing your breasts for him to worship as he worked your skirt up around your waist, thrusting his clothed length against your core until you were whining.

Changkyun always promised to take his time with you, to work you over until you were drunk on his touch and pleading for more - but you never let him, always knowing the right thing to say to get his gaze to go dark and lust to turn frantic, to unzip his jeans and press inside your dripping cunt right there in the hallway.

Just like the hundreds of times before.

You had come around him, digging your nails in his back so hard it left marks, made him growl your name against your collarbone as his thrusts picked up speed to fuck you through the high. You urge him on in the way only you can manage, begging for his release, whispering how much you want his come deep in your cunt. Biting down against the skin, he had spilled inside you with a final groan, hips twitching as he pumped you full of him, forehead resting against your shoulder.

Instead of pulling away immediately, Changkyun remained collapsed against you, breathing heavy. You had smacked at his shoulder, but he just chuckled, arms adjusting to continue a firm hold of your legs as he stayed inside of you, trapping you against his body and the wall.

“What are you doing, Kyun?” scoffing, you had grasped his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “I let you fuck me dirty against the wall without even demanding you buy me food after. Least you can do is let me get cleaned up.”

He had gazed up at you then, eyes piercing as they looked through you, and your heart clenched tightly in your chest.

He knew he shouldn’t say it. Knew it would scare you off. And yet….

“I would, you know.” Swallowing thickly, his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Take you to go get food. If you - I mean, if you wanted. If you’d let me.”

It was like he could see the carefully crafted defenses go up, the pain etching your brow and making your eyes go cold. Anxiety flooded his veins as you wiggled out of his grasp, sliding your clothes back into place as you moved towards his bathroom.

“You don’t mean that,” you murmured, faking a smile. “You know what this is, Kyun.”

“I do mean that!” He knew he sounded too eager, too pitiful, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I’d take you out to dinner. Or,” following you, he paused in the doorway, watching you appraise yourself in the mirror. “We could just get take-out and go somewhere private, drive to a park, bring a blanket and some booze, eat somewhere no one would know or bother us.”

Your answering laugh had sounded wrong, like it had cost you something - like it was the last thing you had wanted to do.

“Like a picnic? Changkyun, you’re saying you want to take me on a picnic? Like a proper date?”

Stuttering, he tried to explain himself, but you had cut him off with a single wave.

“Listen, we both know I’m not that kind of girl, and you don’t want me to be.” Leaning forward, you had pressed a kiss against his mouth, your eyes somber when you had pulled away, moved towards the door.

“What if I do?” His voice broke, wanting to reach out but his arms remaining stiff at his sides. “What if I want you to be that kind of girl, with me?”

Tears stung your eyes, your stomach sinking like you had been punched. You couldn’t do this, couldn’t handle the inevitable disappointment that would come when you got your hopes up.

“I’ll see you around,” you threw over your shoulder before shutting the door, and shutting him out.

Just like the hundreds of times before.

It had been two weeks now since he last saw you in person. It wasn’t for lack of trying; texting you at all hours had proven fruitless, even when he tried to send the usual ‘you up’ message like he didn’t just lay his heart out on the line. You responded airily, non committal, and he knew what you were doing.

You were trying to let him down easy.

So here he was, phone glued to his hand as he scrolled through to find your picture, clicking on it to see if there was any update. You didn’t post a bunch in your feed, but you had a tendency to update your stories often - filling them with silly memes and cute selfies, little videos of you going about your day. Cuddling with your cat, attempting to cook something for lunch. His favorite was when you would do tarot readings for your followers; the way your face would turn serious as you read the cards, passionate fire in your eyes as you helped deliver the message to its owner.

Seeing you that excited and genuine did something to him, made his chest feel like it was going to explode.

He knows you can tell that he’s watching, can see the icon of his profile showing up at the bottom of the video under “seen by.” He can only imagine what you’re thinking when you see it - that he’s a loser, this friend with benefits who turned lovesick puppy, but he can’t make himself care. It’s the only way he feels close, can pretend you’re still in his life.

He never thought that he would need you, now all he wants is to see you - for you to answer him, to come back to him.

Changkyun still sends texts, unable to stop his fingers from reaching out, despite knowing you’ll shut him down. He calls sometimes too, late at night when his blood is more whisky than plasma, though you never answer those. Instead he listens to your voicemail, eyes closed to stop the world from spinning, letting your voice lull him to sleep.

He convinces himself he’s fine with this arrangement, that things would be alright. He can just miss you from afar, observe you live your life through the pixels of a screen. That watching your stories is enough for him, will keep him afloat.

Until he sees you with someone else.

It was another Friday night he was spending alone, half drunk and on his phone, looking for your picture. Taking a deep breath, he had felt his heart stop when he saw the rainbow ring adorning your profile photo, meaning you had updated your story. Sighing, he tapped it, hoping that it would be a few videos so he could pretend for just a moment that he was beside you instead of wasting space on his bed.

The first clip was a selfie, your heavily lidded eyes staring seductively at the camera through your lashes, making his pulse jump and pants tighten. The caption “gonna get drunk tonight!” scrolled across the image, right below the pout of your lips. The next was a small video of you making a drink, giggling about the mixture of tequila and soju you were tossing in your cup, whispering to the camera how it was going to get you ‘all the way fucked up’. But it was the third clip that had his chest heaving, his lungs forgetting how to work.

You were walking out your door, a few people cluttering your front porch as you asked if anyone had a light. Some tall red headed kid - Changkyun refused to acknowledge him as anything more than that - had shouted out, and you squealed as you ran up to him, sliding directly onto his knee before switching the camera into selfie mode to capture the two of you. The next clip was you in his lap, one of your delicate hands sliding through his hair as he gave you a big dopey grin, a cigarette perched on your lips as you cooed at him and told him just how cute he was.

Fuck. He knew that look of yours, knew those moves. Knew exactly what you were doing, what you were hoping to do with that fucking Mingi kid, and he couldn’t stand it, not anymore.

Taking a few deep pulls directly from the liquor bottle, his fingers flew over the keys of his phone, sending you text after text - all of which were ignored. He knew calling would be pointless, that you would rather light yourself on fire than answer your phone - especially at a party - and he felt desperation creep up his throat, choking him.

Changkyun couldn’t let this happen. Couldn’t let you just forget about him.

Clicking back onto Instagram, he started sending you responses to the story video as he got dressed, throwing on the nearest pair of jeans and sliding on his boots.

<Baby?>

<I’m on my way. Don’t take that kid to your bed.>

It took painfully long for the Lyft to show up, and he gritted his teeth the whole route there, knee bouncing to stop himself from demanding the driver to go faster, to just hurry the fuck up and get to you.

When the car had pulled into your neighborhood, he tried to send another message, instead clicking a video. Too frustrated to change it back, he lets it record, his voice low and pained.

“I’m on my way, please let me in.”

You were alone on the deck when your phone started vibrating, the ding of an Instagram direct message making you click the app, eyes widening in surprise when you saw the number of notifications.

Changkyun, all from him.

Awestruck, you scrolled through every line, your heart throbbing with each word he had written.

You didn’t think he cared, not like that. Sure, he missed the sex, but that’s what you expected. That’s what all of them wanted when they sent you late night texts, when they called your phone at three in the morning. Empty promises and broken vows were what kept you company in the dark, when they’d predictably leave you alone with an ache between your legs and in your chest. None of them really wanted you, cared about you. After a few weeks of ghosting, they’d all disappear into thin air like expected, and your heart would harden just a bit more.

But now…

Another chime pulls you from your thoughts, eyes flicking back to the light of your phone. Instead of another direct message, it’s a notification that Changkyun had updated his story for the first time in months.

Shaking fingers slide against the screen, your vision blurring as you take in the shadowed back seat of another person’s car, the only light neon pink from the sign of the Lyft drivers decal. For a moment, all you can hear is the quiet chattering of a distant radio, of someone breathing heavily.

And then his voice croaking over the speaker, raspy with need.

“I’m on my way, please let me in.”

The video fades just as a car pulls up to your curb, a flurry of movement as Changkyun climbs out, stumbles towards you. He all but collapses into your arms, his breath dripping with liquor, eyes reddened but burning fiercely.

“Y/N,” he mumbles, hands coming to cup your face, thumb dragging against the smooth skin of your cheek. “I want to take you on a picnic.”

You laugh, though it comes out more like a sob. “What? What are you talking about? Did you call a Lyft and come all the way across town to tell me that, you clown?”

His finger taps against your lips once, twice. “Shh. Just let me-” he sighs, stomping a foot. “Let me talk.”

He waits until you nod before continuing, words surging from his mouth as if he couldn’t hold back a second longer.

“I came all the way here because I want to take you on a picnic. I want to buy you food and take you on cute little dates and do cheesy things that make you smile at me like you are right now,” he grins, pulling you until your chest rests against his own. “I’m here because I couldn’t stand you ignoring me anymore. I meant everything I said - that I miss you, that I want to be with you, if you’ll give me the chance. I want to call you mine.”

Pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes fall shut, his voice fervent and barely more than a whisper.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Tears brim your eyes, and you fight every old wound that tells you to shove him away, to call him a liar. Instead you allow yourself to follow your gut, your heart for what feels like the first time, leaning back to give him a watery smile in return.

“I love you too, Changkyun.”

His mouth immediately lands on yours, tongue eagerly tracing the seam of your lips until it’s slipping inside, tasting every inch of you, ravenous and unsatisfied until your knees are shaking. He’s walking you backwards towards the door, tugging at your clothes, and you giggle at his impatience.

Pulling away, you gasp for air, palm pressing against his shoulder to hold him back for a moment. “But listen, if I give you a chance, that means you have to stop stalking my Instagram, you creep. And don’t try to deny it, I see you all over my stories, lurking around.”

He chuckles then, nipping at your bottom lip as his eyes darken. “Please, don’t act like you don’t love the attention,”

Pushing the door open, he guides you inside, mouth working over your neck, arms wrapped around your waist until your back is flattened against the wall.

“Plus, there’s no need, now that I got you,” he confesses, his nose swiping against yours gently before he captures your lips between his own, hitching your legs to drape around his waist as he grinds against you, humming words of praise.

Just like the hundreds of times before, but now as his.

#changkyun x reader #IM x reader #changkyun smut #IM smut #monsta x smut #monsta x scenario #changkyun scenario #I.M. scenario #I.M. smut #I.M. x reader #ksmutclub #plotsofpastel #im changkyun #monsta x #monsta x fanfic #taetaesbaebaepsae #my writing #fic: call you mine #fic: cym

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abluescarfonwaston · 4 years ago

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“Damnit Lambert!” He coughed violently. Rolling over to curl in on himself. “Why didn’t you warn me you had a bad batch of tawny owl?”

He wrapped the cut on his leg. Scrapping guts off his armor. “What are you on about. It was fine.” He wanted to roll up into a ball too but the cramping was only going to get worse and they still had to get a trophy off the damn thing.

“This,” Aiden groaned pathetically. “Is not fine.

“This is what fucking tawny owl does Aiden!” The pain making him snappish. “It helps and then it wears off and you want to claw out your guts. That’s how it fucking works cause this life is a goddamn nightmare!” He stabbed between the vertebrae hard and severed its head quickly.

“Fuck what?” Aiden rolled over. Sounding extra pathetic about it which just pissed him off more honestly. “Who taught you how to make potions Lambert? Cause I need to stab them.”

He spun on him. Knife to his throat. “Don’t ever fucking threaten them Cat.”

Aiden watched him. His slow heart beating faster than Aiden’s. The stench of the corpse filling their noses. The potion curdling their guts. “Sorry.”

He hated that. How earnestly he apologized. He sat back against a rock. Stared at the things leathery skin. “Vesemir taught us.” Aiden waited. Or maybe he just couldn’t think of a response over the pain. “He was a fencing instructor. He taught us what he remembered but. It’d been a long time since he learned.”

“Lambert?” He groaned. “If this is what all your potions are like then destroying that bag would be an act of love for you and self-defense on my part.”

“They’re not. All this bad.” He defended but honestly some of them were far worse. “Swallow’s decent.”

“Lambert?” He grunted. “You’re a great fighter. But we are never using your potions again.”

He took a sip of the freshly made Petri’s Philter. To test it out. He’d made it like Aiden had shown him but it was the first time he’d done it himself.

“You cheater! Taking a potion before we spar!” Eskel cuffed him.

“I was checking if it came out right.” An idea popped into his head. “You can use one too. Petri’s Philter. See whose works better.”

“Not a fair comparison.” Geralt pointed out. “Eskels better at signs than the rest of us.”

“What are you scared?”

Eskel eyed him unimpressed but went to grab his. Took a swig. “How do we want to do this?”

“Who can toss Geralt the furthest?” He suggested ruefully.

Geralt’s protests when unheard as Eskel launched him into the base of a snowbank with Aard.

He glared at them. Covered in snow.

“Come on Geralt! It doesn’t count if we use a different person the second time.”

“I’m going to throw both you in the river.”

“Just the loser.” Eskel argued.

“Then I don’t get to throw you in.” He grumbled crossing the courtyard to them.

“Nah I’m willing to take that bet.” They both looked at him like he was being daft.

He adjusted his glove. Don’t fail me now Aiden. Launched Geralt into the air.

He landed with an oft and a puff of white snow. Halfway up the snowbank.

He grinned as they sputtered.

“Guess it works.”

“How’d you learn this Lambert?” Vesemir asked as he copied down the last recipe Aiden had had the chance to teach him.

“Found a cache with the information.” The cache was another witcher but he wasn’t going to tell them that.

“Right.” He felt Vesemir watching him. Not believing him.

He dug his heels in. He didn’t owe the old man answers. Didn’t breathe a word as a cold wind whipped through the giant hole in the wall. He wondered if the Cats had caused that one. He didn’t ask but he wondered.

“Aiden what did you use in this necrophage oil?” He sniffed the vial walking over to him.

He perked up from his disappointment over how many less necrophages he’d killed to tell him.

He laughed full bodied and loud. Aiden wasn’t smiling when he finally managed to stop, wiping a tear from his eye.

“I thought you were just shit at fighting but that’s garbage. What’s it supposed to do? Make them itchy? Impotent? Hurt their feelings?”

“Well how do you make them then?”

Next spring he wondered how many Cats were using Vesemir’s recipes.

“Damnit.” He cursed. Shoving the broken arm piece back together. Trying to sow the gash closed.

Aiden watched him from across the fire. Lazily rotating the fish they’d bombed from the water. “You really need to just replace that mutt.”

“Fuck off pussy I don’t have the diagrams on me and were nowhere near anyone who knows how to make it.”

“Well no one’s going to be able to figure out what it was supposed to look like from that.”

He stared at the mangled and ruined armor in his hands. His fingers dug in and the thread he’d used on it snapped. It fell back apart.

He tossed it away with a frustrated scream and ran. Ran until his lungs burned and his feet ached and the exhaustion finally over powered the anger.

Aiden was asleep in his bedroll. His fish still waiting for him- although they had long gone cold. He chewed the small bones not bothering to pick them out.

A small set of papers sat rolled next to it.

He unrolled it.

Kicked Aiden.

“I can’t fucking wear this!” He shoved the diagram back to him.

“It’d be just until you could get new armor. You can’t work in a shirt and pants.”

“Cause Cat armor is a huge step up from that!”

Aiden scowled at him. “Oh cause people thinking for half a second you might be a Cat is worth dying over. Just show off your medallion and bark at them. I’m sure they’ll figure it out.”

“You’re fucking right it is!” He grabbed his medallion and bared his teeth. “I’m not a Cat.”

They had murdered his school. Killed so many. Destroyed the closest thing he had to a home. It was a shitty home and he hated it. Some days he wished they’d finished the job. Some days he was glad he had a home at all.

Aiden face shuttered closed. “Well we can’t all be Wolves Lambert.”

In the morning he was long gone. The diagrams laying in the morning dew.

He picked them up.

However upset they’d be at him for wearing them wouldn’t match how upset they’d be if he didn’t come home. Probably.

He found a leatherworker and had a set made.

“What are you wearing?” Eskel blocked his entry. “I almost shot you Lambert.”

“Glad you didn’t.” He shoved him out of the way. “I’m tired. Piss off.”

He grabbed him. “If Vesemir sees you wearing that-“

“It was this or go without armor so Fuck Off Eskel.”

Eskel studied him. Let go. “Let me warn the others at least. You know that,” He motioned to the armor. “Is going to bring back bad memories.”

“Would you preferred I died out there?”

He raised his hands placating. “Didn’t say that. Happy you’re home.”

“Yeah well that makes one of us.”

No one asked about the armor. They left a set of wolf armor diagrams for him outside his door and he spent the winter in clothing and furs.

No one why he had cat armor. He didn’t offer to explain. He wouldn’t have answered if they did. Would have made it very clear it wasn’t a topic for discussion.

But no one asked.

He sat in his room and stared at it. It looked so similar to Aiden’s. Which of course it did.

We can’t all be wolves Lambert.

No. But why you have to be a cat? Anything else would have been fine.

He gasped short and quick and barely breathing at all. His eyes losing focus. Pinned to the tree by the dead monster’s antlers.

What a shitty way to go.

“Wooh. Glad I came. Thought I smelled wet dog.”

He raised his head. Vision spinning as he did.

A cat. His cat. Aiden.

The world went dark.

“Look who returns!” The fire popped as he opened his eyes. “Holding up alright?”

“Love questions like that.” He whispered as Aiden lifted his head and raised a potion to his lips. “Holding up? Holding up what? My dick?”

“Well you certainly are one so I wouldn’t put it past you.” The vial moved away. His head was lowered onto Aiden’s thigh.

“This is shit and you know it.”

“Yeah. It is.” Aiden craned his neck upward at the stars. “I was really looking forward to yelling at you.”

“Do it you pussy.”

“It’s no fun if your injured bitch.”

“What think I can’t take it?”

“Take what? My dick?” He chewed something loudly. “Come on. Even a lone hunter can use a helping hand some time.”

“Don’t quote Vesemir at me you prick.”

“Oh I’m a prick now? What an upgrade.” A different flask came back and he drank greedily. “And I wasn’t. Guxart said that.”

“Sounds like a dick.”

“No. I like dicks Lambert. He was pussy.”

He chuckled. Which hurt. It pulled at his wounds.

“Did you know it was me?”

“Knew it was a wolf.” He dropped some of the jerky on his chest. He nibbled on it. “Hoped it was you.”

“Would you have helped? If it wasn’t.”

He was quiet while he considered. If he weren’t so tired it would piss him off. “Yeah. I would have.” He believed him. Because it was Aiden. “Glad it was you though.”

“Why?”

“Cause I missed my mangy mutt. Who else is going to teach me how to fish with bombs?”

“I started building a boat. So I could do it on the lake.” He was starting to feel hazy. Aiden’s potions sometimes had painkillers going for them. Which was nice. “At Kaer Morhen.”

“Bet it’s going to leak like a drunkard.”

“Yeah. Bet it will.” He thought of the lake and keep. “I hate that place.”

“Can’t say I understand why you go back.”

“Why do you go back?”

“Go back where? At best the cats have a traveling caravan of misery these days. I don’t visit.”

“What? But winter sucks.”

“Not going to argue with that.”

He had a brilliant idea. “Come home with me. We can sink my boat together.”

Aiden looked down at him. So sadly. He reached up for him in confusion.

“They’re assholes but the keeps pretty big so we can just avoid them. We can sleep in my room. I’ve got a lot of nice furs. It’s pretty. Please?”

“Sure Lambert. Sure.” He cupped the hand that had found his cheek. Kissed it. “Don’t worry. I won’t hold that against you in the morning.”

“If you were there maybe I could breathe. Cause.” It was really hard to keep his eyes open. His hand was heavy in Aiden’s. “The one good thing this life gave me. Was there.”

“Love you Lambert. Love you too.”

“I asked you to come with me.” He said weeks later.

“I surprised you remember. You were pretty loopy at that point. Do you remember explaining why pigeons were the best bird too? Cause that was pretty funny.”

“You’re lying.”

“You wish I was.”

He scowled at him. “I don’t remember your answer.”

“I said I wouldn’t hold you to it in the morning obviously. I’m not stupid.”

“Oh.” The horses crunched gravel as they continued on. “I did mean it. I want you to come.”

Aiden kept his eyes ahead. “We both know that doesn’t matter.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His horse picked up speed at his unintentional request. He tugged him in front of Aiden’s, halting him. “What I want doesn’t matter?”

“When has what we wanted ever mattered Lambert?” He flinched. Eyes stuck on Aiden’s reins. “It was very sweet of you. But the other wolves would kill me for being in twenty miles of Kaer Morhen and we both know it.”

He couldn’t look away from his dark scarred hands. “Why’d you have to be a cat?”

“Why’d you have to be a wolf?” He moved his horse so they were side by side. Took his hand. “We get three out of four seasons together. That’s pretty damn good.”

“I want more. I want more than this life.”

“Hey. Maybe if you build good enough boats we can.” His hand squeezed. “We could be the first. Retire on some big lake and fish with bombs.”

“With a little house infested with mice because we can’t convince any cats to come within ten feet of us?” He into his golden eyes and for the first time could understand why people called them beautiful.

“With a tiny little house with a leaking roof that you always curse at.”

“We’re never going to get that are we?” He didn’t comment on the tears in Aidens eyes or the blur in his own.

“No.” Aiden squeezed his hand. “But it’s a nice dream isn’t it?”

“It’s awful. Why did you make the roof leak?”

“Why did you fill it with mice?”

“Cause I want it to be real.”

“So do I.”

They clicked their horses forward. Not letting go.

“So this house. Smells like rat shit huh?”

“Yeah. And our clothing gets all mildewy cause we just throw it in the lake to wash it and forget to hang it up.”

“Ugh. I hate that.”

“Yeah it’s awful.”

“But it’s ours?”

“It’s ours.”

“I had a friend. Aiden was his name.”

“Gonna retire to your vineyard wolf?”

“I might.”

“Good for you. Make sure Dandelion writes a song about your beer gut.”

“Lambert-“

“Pardon my interruption gentlemen.” Majordomo stepped into the room. “A gentleman just arrived looking for Master Lambert. It seems urgent.”

“Lambert?” Geralt shot him a confused look.

“Hey don’t look at me! I don’t know!”

“Let’s go met your guest.”

They pushed the door open and he looked to the left. Geralt to the right.

“Who are you?” Geralt asked. He turned to the newcomer.

He exhaled. “Aiden.” When he inhaled it was like coming up for air for the first time in months.

Scarred. Hair long. Covering one eye.

Alive.

“Hey Lambert. Been a while.”

“You fucking heartless asshole!” He yelled as he lifted him off the ground in a crushing embrace. “How fucking dare you.”

“Missed you too bitch.” As he attempted to break his ribs with the force of his hug. “Nice place you got here.”

“It’s Geralt’s and it sucks.”

“Yeah.” He mumbled into his ear. Not letting go. “Our place is gonna be way nicer.”

“With rat shit and everything.”

“Yeah.”

#lambert x aiden #lambert #aiden #aiden x lambert #laiden #this entire fic is thanks to the line in the first witcher game #that was like 'vesemir taught us how to make potions but he's a fencing instructor so...'#Cross school education!!!!!#I very much want aiden to come to kaer morhen but man i can't see the wolves taking that well #so instead they get a shack on a lake and fish with bombs #cause i love canon and cant let go #what do you mean? Aiden obviously survived #he's FINE #writing #also Guxret or whatever is the cats fencing instructor who was friends with Vesemir #or so says the wiki

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translightyagami · 4 years ago

Note

Hello!

I love your fanfic “in your shoes”

(It was the first thing I read about your work and since then I have fallen in love with your writing)

For the fic prompt... Could you write a little more of that AU, please.

(Oh it was so fun to return to this AU! L is a professor at the university Light's attending and they've been together for a little while. You should read "in your shoes" first, but its not imperative. anyway! hope you enjoy!)

cross-posted on ao3!

It was spring break, and L sulked in Light’s apartment. He planned to host his boyfriend during the long academic holiday, but Light surprised his family with a last-minute visit back to Japan. L fiddled with his pockets, taking in the Light’s plastic apology while he laid out instructions on cat-sitting Ryuk.

“Look, I’m sorry, but my father’s been getting ill more often, you know, and you’re going to want to mix Ryuk’s wet food with some dry because he likes the texture, and my mom pretty much said he’s going to kill himself into retirement so I need to be there to convince him to slow down, I’m the only one he listens to about work matters, and this is Ryuk’s favorite toy, so use it with him for about, oh, an hour a day? My sister misses me. I have to go back. Here’s the litter you need to use, and the scoop for when you clean it.”

“I made plans,” L said and took the red scoop from Light. He held it in both hands, staring at the handle in the shape of three apples. Even to his own ears, his voice was pathetic. “I made a reservation at our favorite restaurant. I got really weird sex toys for us to try, because there’s all that recovery time.”

Light’s expression softened until his regret tasted genuine, if pitying. He stroked a hand through L’s hair.

“It’s only for the break,” Light said and kissed L on the forehead. “And then I’ll be back. Just switch the reservation, huh?”

While his soreness over the whole business still thumped under the skin, L liked snooping around Light’s place. He brought his grading work over and, after finishing up, wandered the square-ish space. Despite paying a deep-pocketed rent price, Light lived in a small, cramped studio – made all the tinier with the fat black Ryuk tottering around. His bed, a neat twin mattress with blue sheets that screamed department store boys youth section, had beneath it several plastic storage boxes. L flipped through them, pausing every so often to pet Ryuk or shake the cat’s feather toy.

Inside were stacks of birthday cards, letters from family, and, beneath all this communicative detritus, a pair of diaries. Or journals, as Light called them on the first page of each faux leather book. L flicked the pages of the journal dated the year before Light started at his university. Nothing interesting leapt out, save how Light’s kanji was cramped just like his handwriting in English. Some entries were readable only by squinting – although L didn’t care to read more than three or four since they all smelled of a closet Light didn’t occupy much anymore.

He did enjoy the entry about Light’s adoption of Ryuk. Apparently shelter cats with bad attitudes were Light’s favorite pets, and Ryuk marked the most recent addition. As L read the line, “He only likes when I feed him treats. We’re special to each other, because he chose me and I chose him,” Ryuk nipped him on the finger. L blew a raspberry at the awful little man but shook the feather toy to avoid another nip.

The next journal was more interesting, for it covered Light’s more recent goings-on: fitting in at a foreign university; cooking for himself for the first time; and L rubbed stubborn tears away reading about Light breaking down and calling his mom to ask her, please, how to make his favorite dessert. “I miss everything about home,” Light wrote in an entry marked a month before his first class with L. “There’s nothing for me here except school and Ryuk, and I’m tired of it. I can’t have made a mistake coming here, have I?”

And then The Entry: “I met the most interesting person today.” L knew the date – how could he forget the most important beginning he’d had lately? After that entry came others, more and more concerned with ethical boundaries, and whether this person (God, of course Light refused to acknowledge his crush on a professor, as though his journal judged him) felt the same as Light. One memorable paragraph fell on the day before Light first asked L on a date. Using the back of his hand, L tried to ward off more tears but nothing helped. Ryuk, no longer in a nipping mood, stamped himself a bed in L’s lap. His snore scored L’s reading.

“I wonder if it’s possible to know someone the way I know myself. Or is that too romantic? That’s another thing I sort of hate and love about him, how he’s romantic like me. We’re not moony or anything, but sometimes when he lectures I can feel how he feels – how his passion is a broad stroke. He loves concepts, ideas, the way that no one else I’ve ever met does … except for me. And then when I go to office hours and sit on the other side of his desk, all I can think about is how his mouth moves around words, makes them sound like they’re carved in stone. Even when they’re just so stupid! Because god, he says stupid shit sometimes. And I want to kiss him when he does, so he’ll shut up and hold me and tell me in that serious voice what a joy I am to have in class … maybe outside of class too, if I play my cards right.”

On Friday, a day before Light’s flight back, L woke up to his phone ringing. He was in Light’s apartment, snoozing on the twin bed with a Ryuk-shaped stone on his stomach and the last pages of the journal propped on his chest. His tone was mealy as he answered but perked as the sharp music of Light asking how Ryuk was played through the phone.

“Your little man is fine,” L said, stroking the little criminal in question. “Are you well? Is your trip giving you what you wanted?”

“Not really,” Light said. “I didn’t come on the trip to get something I wanted. My family is happy. Are you doing okay? I hope your bruised ego and our new reservation survived the week.”

L nodded before remembering Light couldn’t see him.

“Yes,” he said, laughing. “I’m okay. Actually, I wanted to ask you something, since you’re back home and everything.”

“Oh sure. Go ahead.”

“Are you happy you stayed?” L asked, licking his lower lip. “I mean, are you happy that you stayed at the university? You didn’t make a mistake?”

The pause was long, filled only by pen clicking on Light’s end as he kept quiet. As L geared up to wave away the question, Light sighed until his lung wheezed.

“I don’t make mistakes,” Light said. “Of course, I’m glad I stayed. Although if you read my diary again, I will make you wish I didn’t.”

#death note #lawlight #my fic #i LOVE to make Ryuk various pet animals for Light #and also Light being one of those 'i love animals more than ppl'#Light singing Cats Are Better Than People ala that Frozen guy #edition-noteblue

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sweetestlamb · 4 years ago

Text

I’m Not Okay(But That’s Okay)

Summary: Mun-Yeong accepts Gang-Tae’s harsh rejection and learns about love and life from unexpected friends, meanwhile Gang-Tae starts to realize what he had and tossed away and fights to win back Mun-Yeong’s heart.

Genre: Healing Romance and then smutty smut smut.

Author’s Note: This story started out as a revenge fic because much like my Queen MY I like to get even but then I started thinking, it should be more than just getting back at GT. So this is a story of realizing your worth and learning who you really are, without other’s opinions. Both of our babies realize their worth and find their way back to each other. 11k, my longest one-shot ever. Hope you all enjoy!

Salty tears fell uncontrollably as she held herself, shaking like a leaf in the bitter winter cold. She felt as if someone had scooped her heart out with a jagged spoon, scrapping everything until there was nothing left. She cried, each drop falling and joining the oceans crushing waves. Wondering if this was how the ocean was first formed, the tears of those who had endured unimaginable pain. Weeping for lovers who would never return.

You were like a firecracker to me. A one time event.

Sobbing, she fell to the ground remembering her own harsh words, visceral and acidic on her tongue. She didn’t want to be a bomb, not anymore. She had gotten a taste of what love could be like and it was ambrosia, cloying saccharine on her tongue. With one small press of his lips to hers he had awakened emotions in her that had not only laid dormant, but had been beaten and hardened into something grotesque. He hadn’t healed her, she knew now that she wasn’t broken just a little fractured, a cast had been wrapped around her heart until it was ready to fully beat and pump love, but he had definitely woken up her emotions.

Now, standing on that beach, the wind whistling through the soft strands of her hair, she clutched at her chest, trying to keep her heart from crumbling into pieces, holding so tightly that her fingers burned and ached from the pain.

When no more tears came, and all she had left was gut-wrenching sobs, she finally let go.

Then she started walking, her legs were heavy as if they were filled with lead but she pushed on, each step taking her away from the disaster site. She wondered if she would ever be able to look at the ocean again without feeling like she was drowning in its vastness. What was it about drowning that made you feel so alive?

The cursed castle looms over her and the idea of being here, alone elicits goosebumps all over her skin. The coldness that had smothered her after his remorseless rejection made her bones ache and she saw her body fall to the ground, as if she were an entity outside of herself. Her body too weighty to lift a second time, she viciously pushes back memories of his strong hands picking her up and keeping her balanced. The ocean pours from her eyes.

This is how Sang-In finds her, an empty shell of the woman he knows. Openly weeping on the ground, dirt sticking to her hands and her face ash-fallen, heartache visible in her countenance. Gone was her fire and brimstone and in its stead was ash and soot. She hears the footsteps approaching and hates herself for the seed of hope that starts to bud in her mind.

“Mun-Yeong.... are you okay?” He whispers to her in voice akin to one you would use with a startled animal. Worried, that even the the press of your lips forming around harsh constants will send them bolting. Arms outstretched as if he too, was waiting for the explosion. The wail she let out sounds inhuman even to her own ears, she can’t fathom that she could make such a sound. Cautiously he approaches her, over his shoulders the wide doe-like eyes of Seung-Jae are shining bright, unshed tears glistening like fresh dew. Her rosebud lips curl up in despair as their eyes meet and she falls into Sang-In’s waiting arms.

He exhales a short breath, surprise evident in the tightening of the muscles in his body.

She sees the castle moving closer through blurry eyes, her tears so hot and pathetic on her face. She never meant to give anyone this much power over her and he took it easily, until he was done and once again she was tossed away. She wants so desperately to hate him.

She can only muster up the will to hate herself.

“I’ll get you some water.” The chair he places her in, scraps across the wooden floors, the sound obscenely loud in the eerie silence of the castle.

In. Out. In. Out.

Aching arms ascend up, crisscrossing on her shoulders, tap, tap, tap. The cotton balls begin to clear from her head, the fuzziness declines until she opens her eyes once more and meets those of the little art director.

“Why are you here? Aren’t you scared of me?”

She looks long and hard, eyes darting all over Mun-Yeong’s face. Until her heads moves softly side to side.

“It’s hard to be scared of someone, who looks so afraid them self.” Her lips snap shut and Mun-Yeong feels the usual desire flow through her, scare her, break her, hurt her. The feeling of warmth on her hands yanks her back from the darkness, that swarms inside her. She looks down at the hand that encompasses her own hand on the table. Wanting to pull away and show her that all these hands know are destruction, they are only capable of pain and death.

But.

She’s so warm.

Sang-In’s eyes broaden in sheer astonishment when he returns to the warm scene but he knows better than to comment. Knows that her hands will become razor-sharp, ready to attack if provoked.

“Here’s your water.” He places the glass to her lips and gently tilts the glass, pouring back all the fluids she expelled from her body. Her eyes begin to droop in exhaustion, he looks at Seung-Jae and her small nod is the only answer he needs.

Together, they carry Mun-Yeong’s complacent body up the stairs and tenderly place her in the large bed, its sheer size dwarfing her small frame. Sang-In gazes into her empty eyes and lifts his hand, suspended in time before he thinks better of it and simply pats the bed and silently walks out without a second glance.

Her thick blanket is drawn up to her chin and the warmth almost brings the ocean back to her eyes.

“Just sleep. “ Seung-Jae murmurs, no words of encouragement or of better tomorrows, just a simple command and again that warm hand encircles her own and she drifts off into a deep slumber. She dreams of nothing.

The sounds of morning wake her from her sleep, she lays in bed, still, comatose until she hears movement in the kitchen and she rushes from her bed. Running, Sprinting. Not bothering to get her slippers, rushing down the stairs, gripping the railing to prevent herself from falling, she can’t miss them swiftly turning the corner and-

Her heart fissures.

No Sang-Tae. No Gang-Tae.

Yellow and green bags, cover the table instead of hot soup, rolled omelets, fluffy rice, quail eggs, and steamed tofu. Disappointment cripples her heart and she wonders if it will always hurt this much? Will she have to cauterize every memory she has with them? Burn them close so the scars can remind of what everything she lost and stop her from ever doing it again.

“Oh you’re awake, here we bought breakfast.” Sang-In presses a sandwich into her hands, sitting down to drink his own coffee and on auto-pilot she crosses the cold kitchen, all of its warmth sucked from the room with the removal of the brothers.

She turns to look at him with a curious eye. Recalling all those years ago, as she thrashed on her hotel bed, apparitions of her mother haunting her dreams, the rigor mortis in her dead hands not enough to stop her from squeezing the air from her lungs. His fist hand banged on the door, before kicking the door open and shaking her from her night terrors. His face had been ghastly as he looked upon her own wet face, words caught in his throat and she had lashed out when he tried to embrace her.

Vicious scratches like a wild cat, until he finally gave up and sat down on the ground beside her bed. Minutes passed before he started to hum a nameless tune, she had fallen asleep with his baritone hums soothing her back to sleep. After that, there was a minute shift in their relationship, her cruel words didn’t seem to land the same way as they had done before. He looked at her like he was seeing her for the very first time.

He was looking at her like that once more.

Then his eyes shifted and he picked up his own sandwich.

They ate in silence and she vaguely wondered where the doe had gone with her big Bambi eyes and warm hands. But she didn’t inquiry out loud, people were prone to leaving. She would stop letting that shock her.

Next day, Bambi as she had taken to calling her showed up. Containers of warm food tied in a bag. She forced herself not to think about where they had come from and instead, chewed the delicious food slowly savoring each burst of flavor on her tongue.

This went on for days. Some days it was just her and Sang-In and other days Bambi- Seung-Jae was there, and sometimes all three of them ate together. She got used to their constant bickering about everything. On days, when one was there without the other, she noticed that they would turn with complaints on their tongues and ready to engage in a verbal skirmish before remembering that the other wasn’t there. She realized that friendship wasn’t always nice. You were allowed to bicker and rage and then deflate and carry on.

She watched them do it and heard Sang-In’s words echo in her mind when she asked him about it, his face was as shocked as when she had asked him who he liked more, her or the two-faced bitch. He replied with a finger on his newly naked chin, “ Friendship is complicated because people are too. Anything good is always worth a fight.”

Gang-Tae had looked like all the fight had fled his body that day at the beach. No. All his fight for her. He was willing to fight for his brother but he had made it clear that she wasn’t worthy of fighting, of complications, she could be picked up for a good time and then abandoned when the show was over. She was temporary.

She stayed in bed for days after that heart-breaking revelation.

Only leaving to eat with Sang-In and Seung-Jae.

Sunlight trickled through her curtains, as she got dressed. All black armor wrapped around her body. The sleeves of her floor length black dress, puffed up daring anything to get close to this dangerous creature. The bodice of the dress was almost too tight across her chest, molding the shattered pieces of her heart into some semblance of normalcy. She completed her ensemble with a large black netted hat that draped into her face, partially covering her eye and her towering black heels.

Death, itself would shudder at the sight of her.

Sang-in and Seung-Jae both perked up in admonishment at seeing her in something other than a dressing down.

“Mun-Yeong, you dazzling beauty!” He sang standing, hands clapping together in joy, he walked around to meet her and saw that the frost that had lined her eyes these past few days had melted a little.

“Where is my sandwich?” She demanded, humming in acquiescence when Seung-Jae bounded over to hand it to her, eyes lighting up as she informed her that she looked better.

She felt better.

It was time to stop mourning she thought ironically enough, whilst looking like the human manifestation of a funeral itself.

“I have to go to a conference today, so I won’t be here for lunch.” Sang-In stated, pointed looking at his assistant and before she could read between his lines- you need to be here to have lunch with Mun-Yeong. She looked up and said, “I won’t be here today. I called the hospital. I’m going to teach my class today.”

She didn’t miss the silent conversation that transpired between the two but her mind was made up. She needed to keep moving, staying still wasn’t an option anymore.

“Okay, I’ll drive you.” Sang-In said leaving no room for argument, she wasn’t used to seeing this side of him. Did he care about her?

The smile that he was brandishing made her think the answer, might be yes.

The drive was pleasant, she watched the trees and foliage as the car zoomed past them. Cherry blossom petals falling as if begging someone to catch them.

Her heart raced as they pulled up in the parking lot, all the times she had done that before flashed in her head, arguing with Sang-Tae about the radio and who should sit next to Gang-Tae all washed over her. She let it. Taking a moment to feel it. Before opening the car door and closing the door on it.

“I’ll pick you up later.” Sang-In called, pulling out as Seung-Jae waved goodbye, soft smile spread across her innocent face. She ached to wave back but only nodded her head in affirmation, before gripping her bag in her hand. This was it.

I can’t believe she’s here. Did anyone tell Gang-Tae? What if they run into each other? Do you think they’re still dating?

She heard all the whispers from the nurses who seemed to have endless time for gossip but none for much less, she had the bruises to proof it, all except Ju-Ri who avoided her like she had the plague and that at least made sense to her, it was just like when they were kids. At least she was consistent.

Her class had ended a few minutes ago and to her surprise she had missed the idiot patient with the too-bright eyes and endless optimism. Everyone else had nodded in agreement as she told them that “The Little Mermaid” was a tale of making yourself smaller to receive love, that love wasn’t gentle or unconditional but rather controlling and retraining. Trade in your values, beliefs and even voice so you could feel love’s tight grip and even then it wasn’t enough.

A-reum- she recalled her name- would have stood up and revolted against her and her bleak outlook on love, would have argued that love was a compromise and sometimes you had to make sacrifices for it but they were worth it. It was easy for her to say that when she had someone who thought she was worth fighting for, Mun-Yeong thought.

She walked the hallway aimlessly, until her feet brought her to the cafeteria. The same one she had watched him eat in, so many people around him, unlike her people gravitated towards him. Like he had his own orbital pull, but was completely unaware of it or its power.

Finding an empty table in the back, she walked there not knowing why she felt the need to be here. She slid on the smooth solid plastic of the chair, placing the lunch Sang-In had forced into her hand this morning as she had left the car.

Soon, she could be a representative for Subways, the way they were consuming it daily.

The sandwich was cool to the touch, but she didn’t mind. She had high internal heat. She ate alone, taking bite after bite of the sandwich, eyes down at the table before she heard the chair across from her being pulled out. She didn’t look up at first, swallowing her bite and taking a deep breath before she willed her eyes to rise.

She saw something she had never seen before.

A warm motherly smiled greeted her.

“I didn’t know you were back already, you look cheerful.” Soon-Duk teased, taking in her outfit with an amused grin on her face.

“This is my happiest black.” She responded, almost jumping at the burst of laughter that her joke garnered and she shyly smiled back, taking another bite of her sandwich.

“What kind of lunch is that? I will get you some real food.” She moved faster, than Mun-Yeong thought a woman her age should but within seconds, she was back with her delicious home-made food and despite her sandwich she felt her mouth watering.

Lunch was a compilations of here try this, eat up, no put this with this, you like that? She ate until she thought her stomach would explode.

“How are you?” Chopsticks stopped midair on their journey to her mouth. How was she. Everyone was asking her that. She had never had so many people worry about her well-being before, it was unsettling. She wasn’t worth any of it. The sooner everyone followed his lead the better. Didn’t they know that everything she touched turned to ruins? She was a harbinger of death, a bomb that would kill everything in its wake.

She never got a chance to answer that innocuous question.

Ju-Ri and Gang-Tae were frozen, across the room. Eyes wide in trepidation as she ate with their mother-figure. She wondered if they were scared for her? Terrified, that even being this close to her would result in anguish?

“Thank you for the food.” She surprised even herself with the words, before standing and walking away, a warm hand on her wrist stopped her escape, “You’re welcome. You can come to me anytime.” She fought back the tears that threatened to spill at the compassionate offer. She nodded. Then continued her escape, never one to stray away from confrontation. She met their eyes, one filled with contempt and the other....too many emotions to read. It wasn’t shocking to see them together, if Mun-Yeong was a firecracker, then Ju-Ri was a wet rag. Dependable. Damp. Lackluster. Jealousy burned like acid in her stomach as she quickly left the room.

She never saw those dark soulful eyes, watch her very move, drinking her up like he was dehydrated and she was the only source of relief.

So lost in her, that he didn’t notice two pair of eyes watching his rapture.

Life continued, like it always did she thought bitterly. The Earth didn’t stop spinning for any of us. It had been days since her not encounter in the cafeteria, Sang-In had picked her up as he promised and there had been another not encounter, Sang-In’s eyes had hardened while opening the door for her and she turned around to meet those dark haunting eyes.

He stood silent, as his brother rambled on about... someone named Terry? The circuit when their eyes met had been electric, fizzing through the air. He broke the contact first, eyes gazing over with...something as he looked down at the guiding hand her manager had placed on her back as he ushered her into the car. His other arm looming over her head as he opened the car door for her. The proximity between their bodies minuscule. That sharp jaw had tightened before he seemed to snap out of it and grab Sang-Tae’s arm, changing their course.

Giving them a wide berth of space.

Are you jealous?

Her own words echoed in her mind, as she remembered his aloofness as the fan had sat besides her. Showering her with praise and glowering at her every move, enraptured in her as she was simultaneously enraptured in the pen. The table had jilted from the force with which he slammed the coffee down with, his body turned away from them in overly zealous nonchalance. Until she had started writing her number down, he couldn't stop his contemptuous glances then. She had seen the anger in his eyes has she had pressed this stranger’s hand onto her waist. She has reveled in his jealousy, mindlessly taking that as proof of his feelings for her.

His reprimands afterwards had not doused the flames at all, his jealousy was palpable then. The addition of words to his actions, painting an even clearer picture. You’re mine.

What a load of bullshit.

Was she is his Mang-Tae? Something you hide away in a drawer only to possessively clutch at it when someone else tried to touch it?

Anger blistered under her skin, recalling with disdain how happy that moment had once made her. She was a fool to confuse possession with love.

Not so long ago she had seen them as two sides of the same coin. But she was learning that she was wrong. Everything she had been taught about love was wrong, soured by her mother’s volatile love and her father’s discernible hatred.

His jealousy brought her no satisfaction now. It might nothing if he wouldn’t fight. She was ready to go to war for them and he could barely pass a punch. It wasn’t equal, and love should be.

Pale pinks and reds enveloped her body, her pink chiffon dress was soft against her skin, a sheer red covering outset the ensemble resembling Aphrodite herself, her hair was curled in soft waves that framed her face perfectly. The gold-heart necklace that Sang-In had gifted her this morning sat on the prominent clavicle of her chest. On her feet she donned bloody red heels, matching the red of her lipstick that she swiped across her lips.

Perfect.

“You look beautiful Ms. Ko Mun-Yeong!” The wide Bambi eyes glimmered in happiness, as Seung-Jae hopped up and clapped her hands, curling wand still in her hands.

They had been up since morning, the usually frightful art director had dragged her from her a bed with a quick birthday song- do you have a death wish?- before begging her to allow her to help her get ready today.

It was the first time, she had ever had someone besides her mother touch her hair. She had counted until the panic had subsided. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5......

Before looking up and seeing that her hair was all glossy, bouncy curls that she had never been able to achieve on her own. She had reached up to touch the wondrous curls before a soft hand smacked her own away.

She looked up in shock and met the terrified eyes of Bambi before she cracked a smile and watched the girl do the same, breathless laughter followed close behind.

“Don’t touch. Your hair is so silky it was really hard to make it curl, don’t ruin all my hard work.”

Sang-In pressed in soon after and her skin tingled from all the praises, she looked in the mirror and agreed with all of them. She looked pretty.

“She’s in a good mood.” She hears one of the patients whisper as she passes by, she can’t deny it. She is. Today she had allowed them to create their own fairy tales, instead of her usual lectures. Their first creative writing session and they were all engaged, stories about princesses and ogres and witches and she smiled as she listened in as a patient defended her decision to make the witch the protagonist and hero. There are good witches!

Their time soon comes to a close and she hears them all whine in displeasure, “Can we finish them next week and read them out loud?” The old man begs, with pleading eyes, flustered by their evident interest in her class, all she can muster up is a nod.

Without much thought, she finds herself going to the cafeteria knowing that she will get a few moments with Soon-Duk before they are interrupted.

She had always relapsed this morning, fingers aching to send him a message. To let him know that today was important. Before remembering that today wasn’t important to him, he had his fun and she needed to leave him alone.

His rejection still stung and she wouldn’t let it burn her today.

“Well don’t you look gorgeous.” She perked at the sound of her voice and couldn’t help but smile in response. Warm hands encompass her own and Soon-Duk, walks her to their table, still hand in hand. Mun-Yeong wonders how they look, if they look like mother and daught--

They lapse into a comfortable conversation, she regales her with stories of her class today and how ridiculous some of the stories had been. Soon-Duk’s gentile smile makes her realize that she sounds like a proud teacher speaking of her students and their mishaps. A weird feeling flutters in her stomach.

“There she is, the birthday girl!” A new voice interrupts their conversation, looking up she sees the kooky director himself, a stupid grin on his weathered face.

Shock blazes across her face, looking at Soon-Duk who winks in response before leaving without a word.

“....... my son is a businessman, you would like him! He has always been a big fan of your work. I think it would be wonderful if you two were to met!” She tunes back in, catching the final part of whatever the madman was talking about.

For whatever reason, she had learned that Soon-Duk liked the director, they teased each other mercilessly, bickering like an old married couple and every once in a while he would join them and bore her with his stories of courtship. How had had fought off a band of thugs to save Soon-Duk’s live with only his watch, as the woman in question rolled her eyes stuffing more food into his ridiculous mouth to shut him up.

This was the primary reason she found herself agreeing to meet his son later today, This will be his first time visiting me at work, he’s a very busy businessman!

She liked Soon-Duk a lot, she wondered what had made Ju-Ri such a two-faced bitch when she had that for a mom?

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Mun-Yeong, happy birthday to you!” That woman must have been a magician in her past life because she suddenly reappeared with a small cake, perfectly round with heaps of sweet frosting and glazed fruits, strawberries and mangoes, her favorite.

Her cheeks were red from all the attention, the old man is singing terribly and loud, bringing everyone’s eyes to the tables, looks of curiosity and others called out “Happy birthday!” as well and she wasn’t prepared for any of this so she sits quietly, letting emotions she had never had the opportunity to feel wash over her- gratitude, joy, acceptance.

She felt her throat constrict from the emotions, her body overstimulated.

A perfectly cut slice was placed in front of her with a fork, “Eat up.” And she did. Treasuring every bite, like it was her last.

She felt their eyes before she even looked up and it was her time to leave. Happiness washed over her and without thinking, she pushed out of her chair and wrapped her arms around Soon-Duk. The warm body stiffened and she felt the rejection turn her blood ice cold, before those warm arms melted the frost away. Pulling her tighter into the spontaneous embrace. She hugged and let herself be hugged.

Remembering where she was and who was watching, she pulled way but not before those those hands were on her cheek, brushing away rogue tears she never knew had dropped.

Clearing her throat, she picked up what was left of her cake and started walking to the exit. She supposed she could give some to her idiot manager and his hapless assistant.

A hand shot out and grabbed her elbow, and when she looked up and saw who the hand was attached to- her reaction was immediate, she ripped herself out of his hold and felt fury bubbling under her skin. “Don’t touch me.”

She watched her words, stab him like daggers and his hand squeezed again as if still feeling the phantom touch of her arm.

He wasn’t doing good job at hiding his hurt at her words and actions and she momentarily imagined the satisfaction she would feel if she just smashed the cake into his face. Smeared it all over him and fled without a word. The cake was delicious though and she could feel Soon-Duk’s watchful eyes still on her.

That wasn’t who she wanted to be anymore.

She mustered up her courage and walked away, she had imagined what she would do if he ever approached her again, plead for him to stay, ask him to hold her, fall into his arms. Now that he was here, she still felt the desire to just forgive him but.. nothing had really changed. He was still the same coward and she was tired of being strong on her own.

“Happy birthday.” His soft statement, made her pause for a moment,. Her heart telling her turn around and run into his arms, feel his love for however long he allowed.

But she knew that she deserved more than he was willing to give. She wanted to be a faithful wife, not a dirty mistress.

So, she kept walking, until she was outside and sat on the bench, the one where they first met, when she had grabbed hold of him as her destiny, it was now time to let him go and let herself in.

The day was supposed to be enough, he wasn’t lying when he told her that he had been waiting for that day all this life. Experiencing it with her had made the day even more bittersweet, they had so much fun. Her smiling face had been the prettiest sight and then he had kissed her.

A quick press of hunger lips, arms folded behind his back to stop them from dragging her into his arms and never letting go. it had been pure torture, resisting her the night before, she had looked at him with those ravenous eyes and sweet mouth and he wanted to let himself be eaten alive.

But this was going to be his only day and he didn’t want their first kiss to be a drunken mess of tongues and spit, he wanted the kiss that had been taken from him all those years ago, when he had handed her his heart and she had trampled all over it, leaving him bleeding at her magnificent gate.

That kiss had awakened emotions in his soul that he didn’t know he was capable of feeling, and that should have been the wake up call he needed. But he ignorantly thought that he could have his cake and eat it too, and then Sang-Tae had taken his heart out and slashed it into small pieces. The water that had hit him was nothing compared to the guilt that crushed him, a tsunami wave that shoved him to the ground.

It was all his fault, he knew that now. He had wanted too much and dreamed a dream that was never his, he had let his brother down and betrayed his mother. You must always protect your brother, that is why I gave birth to you.

He failed.

But Sang-Tae had forgiven him, hugged him for the first time in years of his own volition. And then everything was fine.

Her crying face had haunted him in his dreams and he woke up in cold sweats, her screams still ringing in his ear, I’m a bomb! I don’t disappear after, I explode and kill everyone! Then dream Mun-Yeong had exploded, her limps sprawled all over and he woke up with silent screams.

He ignored the dreams and the pain in his chest. This was all for the best, Jae-Su had agreed and reminded him daily. He didn’t need anymore excitement in his life, his brother was enough.

He didn’t need to celebrate her birthday with her, they weren’t a couple. He wasn’t hurt watching her leave a room every time he entered. He wasn’t jealous of Ju-Ri’s mother for getting to hold her, a beautiful sight in her airy pink dress, her new hair in curls that he had never seen before. He hadn’t yearned to pluck her from the mother’s arm and hold her in his own, he was fine and everything was fine.

He didn’t mean to touch her but she had been so close and looked so exquisite, he heard Ju-Ri’s exhale of surprise when his hand reached out to graze her skin and he savored its softness before she had ripped herself away, her words cutting deep, dagger sharp.

His words had stalled her, but she kept walking not looking back and he wondered what was that breaking noise he heard so loudly in his head?

“Let’s go sit with my mom.” Ju-Ri stated exasperation profound in her tone, he wanted to tell her to go away and chase after Mun-Yeong.

He followed her to the table, sitting down before her mother started to share out their respective meals, seeming to have endless supplies of food at all times. He was always given the most, he noted with shameful pride.

“Well I got her to agree, to meet my son. I think they’ll really hit it off!” The director exclaimed, pure glee in his eyes as he almost danced in his seat.

“Leave the girl alone, she has enough on her plate. If your son is anything like you, she’s better off running for the hills!”

“I told you, he takes after his mother. He is a gentleman if I say so myself, when I mentioned it was her birthday he was adamant about picking up a gift for her!” He said with a voice laced with pride that only a parent could have.

Gang-Tae felt every muscle in his body harden at his words and the realization at what and who they were talking about.

He devoured all the food before him to stop himself from, lashing out at the director like he had with Sang-In. She’s mine. She’s mine.

It wasn’t his place to think that, much less act on it. He had said cruel things to her, thrown back all the affection she had given him because she was right he was a coward. He didn’t deserve her. He knew that. But knowing that didn’t stop him from wanting to punch the director in his face as he spouted out more information about his perfect son.

Who was perfect for Mun-Yeong.

He couldn’t sit here and listen to this any longer, even his patience wasn’t infinite. He launched himself out of his seat, ignoring Ju-Ri’s cries and her mother’s grasping hand. Tossing the rest of his food out, he pounded out of the cafeteria. Never seeing the twinkle of victory in the director’s eyes. Or Soon-Duk’s slap to his arm, chastising him for his obvious ploy.

He distracted himself by actually doing his job, something the other nurses seemed to be immune to. Nearly punching Cha-Young in his smug face, when he had boldly asked if he and Mun-Yeong were over and if he wouldn’t mind if he asked her out. His only response was a growl and the slam of his locker door, the lazy nurse had taken his hint and quickly ran off to gossip some more. “Sheesh it was just a question, she’s crazy but she is hot.”

He eagerly awaited the end of the day, counting the minutes until he could go home and recharge.

There was no preparation for the scene that greeted him at the hospital’s entrance. Mun-Yeong stood with an overwhelming bouquet of flowers, held tenderly in her small hands. Vibrant pinks, reds and whites that matched her outfit perfectly. She was smiling that soft smile, that usually came before her wrinkle eye smile. He had only ever seen that smile directed at him and felt his heart constrict in jealousy, that someone else was on the receiving end.

It felt like a sucker punch to the gut, when his eyes leveled with the someone else. That fucking guy from the coffee shop. He felt satisfaction at being correct about this guy, he was a stalker, how did he even know where she worked? Had they spoken after that first meeting? No. She had told him that she had not been interested in him at all, as she waxed poetry about the beauty of the stolen pen.

Mun-Yeong was many things but she wasn’t a liar.

All the female nurses cooed at the flowers and congratulated her as she struggled to wrap her arms about the expanse of the flowers. Coffee shop guy reached out to help her and the desire to beat him to a pulp was almost staggering.

Then the director swaggered out and placed a hand on the stalker’s shoulders and with another sucker punch to his gut uttered, “My son, you never do anything in moderation huh? This is quite the bouquet for a first time meeting.” Despite the reprimand in his words, he looked jubilant at the sight of his son, his son. How was this possible?

“Sorry dad, but actually we met before. She was kind enough to take a picture with me. When you told me she was here, I knew it was the perfect opportunity to surprise her on her birthday.” His answering smile made Gang-Tae sick to this stomach.

He didn’t have enough resolve to watch this. His hand on her shoulder with undeserved familiarity. Her sweet smile in return, as she let herself be guided away by the father-son duo.

He stomped out of the hospital, ignoring everyone’s calls of goodbye.

His foul mood lasted all evening resulting in his brother hiding away in his tent, after he had snapped at him for spilling some milk on the floor. He couldn’t stop thinking about her with him. What were they doing? Where they still together? Was she smiling at him? It was driving him crazy, imagining her looking at someone else the way she used to look at him.

The cool rooftop air did nothing to cool off his anger.

“You really have some nerve, don’t you?”

He turned at the voice, meeting the cool eyes of Soon-Duk, calmly walking over to the table and pushing him over to make room for her to sit.

He didn’t respond to her biting words.

“She told me what you said to her. If you don’t want her, then let her be happy. You owe her at least that much.” She continued on and his eyes filled up with tears, knowing she was right he had to let her go, she did deserve happiness and he couldn’t give it to her.

His job was taking care of his brother and nothing else. It didn’t matter if the thought of her with someone else made him want to throw himself off this roof. it didn’t matter if she was his first thought in the morning and his last thought at nights. It didn’t matter if he dreamed of hugging her and kissing her and loving her. None of it mattered.

Then why was he crying?

He cried long and hard, finally letting himself feel. Tears scorching as they cascaded down his face and he felt warm arms circle around him. Holding him as he shook, patting his head soothingly, before harshly smacking him. “Stop torturing yourself already, what do you really want?”

He was scared to answer. The answer was clear but to state it out loud was to acknowledge it and make it real. Was he ready for that? Once he said it he would need to do something, that thought made him hesitate.

But the thought of her loving someone else, spurred him on.

“Mun-Yeong.”

The hospital was abuzz with gossip when he entered the next morning, he tried his best to tune them out, but could’t escape the talk of their date. They had left together, and both entered his car, the female nurses gushing at his chivalry, he had rushed forward opening every door for her. Carefully placing the flowers in the backseat before, driving off to enjoy a quiet dinner.

He wouldn’t lose her again. Destiny had brought them back together and he had stupidly fought tooth and nail to work against it, he was done with that.

He was ready to fight for her.

But first he had to speak to his brother, after work he sprinted home, nervous and anxious but determined, he didn’t have to choose. They could all be happy again, living in the castle together. At least he hoped they could.

Convincing Sang-Tae that he wasn’t losing him had not been easy. He cried and screamed and retreated to his tent, he waited him out, repeating “I’ll always be your little brother.” Until his brother’s frantic cries finally stopped and the sound of the zipper opening flooded the room.

“Why can’t it just be us two? We’re brothers all we need is each other, we’re brothers.” He repeated with sad eyes, looking like the world was crashing down on him and Gang-Tae almost lost his resolve. Mun-Yeong’s face flashed in his mind and it came back with a vengeance.

“Because she makes me happy too. You both make me happy and I don’t want to choose. I want to be happy with both of you.” He answered honestly, smile lighting up his face thinking about the times they had all had dinner together. Smiling and laughing as they talked about their day, Sang-Tae sharing his stories about the pizza shop as they both looked on with fondness.

“Happy. Gang-Tae is happy.” He felt his brother’s finger trace his smile with juvenile innocence, and he smiled even harder because he was happy and when he got her back, he would be even happier.

They fell asleep shortly after, he cuddled his brother until his breathing was steady, drifting off to thoughts of her dark tempting eyes and candied smiles.

He peeked out the closet door, waiting for that familiar head of lustrous short hair and impeccable fashion. She was looking radiant today in midnight blue, he reached out with trembling hands and yanked her into the small room with him. Her indignant, “What the hell are you doing?” was cut short by the slam of the door. She pulled her hand from his grasp, looking up at him in the dark before her vision settled. Her lips formed a perfect o.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He accused boldly, recalling all the moments he had attempted to speak to her this week only to see her spin around and walk run in the other direction. Once, he had actually chased her only to collide with the director who needed help picking out a tie for his meeting with a donor, he had looked back in annoyance as he was pulled further and further away from her. Then another time, he had arrived to lunch early, bullying Cha-Young into switching breaks with him.

As soon as she saw him approaching, she had bolted with all her food in her hand looking like a squirrel hibernating.

He ignored the amused eyes of Soon-Duk, who appeared to be enjoying his suffering immensely for someone who had told him to stop torturing himself.

So, now here they were. In this closet. She reached for the doorknob and he extended an arm over her shoulder, forcing the door shut.

“What are you doing? Do you have a death wish? Let me out!” She pushed at his chest in petulance, he didn’t budge even an inch.

He placed his other arm over her shoulder and bracketed her in, leaning in close and watching her face. She looked beautiful, face flushed with anger, he really hoped she didn’t have any sharp objects on her.

“We need to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“Fine, then I’ll talk and you can listen.”

She tried to bolt again, trying to pry his hands off the door, even at one moment seeming to think about kicking him but he caught her leg with his own and pressed her into the door.

“Stop. I just want to talk.” He pleaded with her.

“I don’t care what you have to say. Leave me alone.”

“Mun-yeong please....”

Her eyes softened momentarily before the frost grazed back over them.

“What do we need to talk about? if you’re looking for fun I can’t help you, firecrackers only go off once. “ She spat back at him, going for the jugular. The desire to check his throat for blood was immediate.

He knew those words would be thrown back at him. He deserved them, when he had said them he knew they would hurt her to her core. But he said it anyway, because he was a fucking coward. He had lied to so many people around himself, including himself, he had felt trapped in the vortex of his own deceptions. So he lashed out and pushed her away, angry at himself. As soon as he had uttered the words out loud, he knew that he had damaged whatever trust they had build with tentative hands. He had taken a sledge hammer to the foundation of their relationship.

“I’m sorry I said that, I’m so sorry. I never should have said those things to you. You were right, I am a fucking coward- her eyes widened at his curse- and I pushed you away because you scared me. What I was feeling for you scared me. I want you so badly, that it terrifies me. But I’m ready to fight now, Mun-Yeong I’m ready to be strong for us. “ He poured himself out at her feet, giving her all the ammunition to hurt him and trusting that she wouldn’t.

But like he said he had been the one to break their trust.

Her cold laughter made him take a step back, “Oh you’re ready to fight now? Should I be thankful? Should I drop everything and follow you like a lost puppy? Oh wait, I already did that. You told me to get lost. So about you take your own advice Gang-Tae, stop stirring up my miserable life and get lost.”

She pushed him out back, harder than before, finally managing to escape, the door slamming behind her.

Damn.

That could have gone better. But he wasn’t giving up. Not now, he had hurt her and winning her back wasn’t going to be easy.

Their game of cat and mouse continued, with her running every time he was in her vicinity and he watched with anguish as he started to pick her up after her classes.

The first time, she had been on her phone talking to Sang-In berating him for his tardiness, “Get here now or I’ll kill you.” When he had showed up, and he despised the way she smiled at him, hanging up without a goodbye and walking into his open arms. His hands had soothed down the material of her baby blue sundress and Gang-Tae wanted to break each of his fingers.

“Sang-In told me he was running late and asked me to pick you up.” He offered as a way of explanation, handing her an iced coffee, which she happily took placing the straw between her plush mouth, sucking hard.

He tightened his fist, watching that punk, watch her with hunger in his eyes.

“Okay, I won’t kill him tonight then. I’m starving, what are you going to feed me?” She asked him as they left, arms linked, that was supposed to be him. He had taken those moments for granted, her arm linked through his, her adorable face as she consumed pounds of grilled meat and still demanded more. Now he had to watch another man, take his place and make her happy.

He didn’t know how much longer he could do this.

Every time he saw them together it was like salt in his wound.

He knew this was all his fault, he had brought this on himself. But did it have to hurt this much? Did his heart have to throb this way?

After the closet incident, it became impossible to find her around the hospital. It was like she knew exactly where to hide so he couldn’t find her.

It was time to fight harder then.

The gated loomed ominously before him as he pushed them open with determined hands. He knew that she was home today, he had Sang-Tae text her to make sure, as they were talking again, best friends once more as he was now the outcast. Unlike when he tried texting her, she had immediately responded to Sang-Tae, I am home, you can come over if you want. We can have fun.

It had been difficult, stopping Sang-Tae from getting dressed and taking up her offer, “That is what best friends do. They hang out and have fun. I have to go!”

He had distracted him with Teary, explaining that Teary needed his attention right now, it was still early days since the dinosaur had joined their family.

With a deep breath, he climbed the marble decaying stairs and put the key in the lock, twisting it open. He had never gotten a chance to return it to her and he was thankful for that now. The door creaked open and he glared at it with betrayal, this would only work if he caught her by surprise.

He heard her sultry voice, coming from the kitchen, “I don’t need a babysitter you can go out with the two-faced bitch. if I get bored I’ll call Sang-Tae or Daniel.” He ignored the pain that shot through his heart at not being one of her options. “ He is working late, but he promised to call me after and drop off food. Okay, have a good time. if she gets drunk and hits you, make sure to hit her back!”

She meandered out, still unaware of his presence, aimlessly scrolling through her phone, long silk nightgown sheathing her lithe body, the silk draped into each and every crevice of her body and left his mouth dry. Parched.

“We need to talk.” She jumped at the sound of his voice, grabbing a.....lamp defensively and readying it for her attack. Until she realized it was him, she only lowered the lamp marginally. He was going to take that as a small victory.

“How did you get in here? Are you stalking me now? What is wrong with you? Get out!” She fired off her questions and command, all in one breath, her voice higher and frantic.

“No, we need to talk. I need you to listen to me.”

“I heard you the last time, you’re ready now. I HEARD YOU. I just don’t care.”

He sidestepped the lamp as it flew from her hands, and hugged her close to him, feeling the tremors run through her body. She was wild in his embrace, scratching and fighting to break free, he pinned her tighter. Holding on for the ride.

“I want you, and I think you still want me too.”

“No, I don’t. You were just something to pass the time. I’ve moved on now.”

He marched on, “Does he make you feel like I do? Look me in the eyes.”

He grabbed her chin in his hands, gentle but firm, forcing her eyes to meet his and he watched them surge with anger, so much anger but he also saw lust and he was going to cling to that.

“It doesn’t matter. “ She twisted out of his hold, sprinting to the stairs, he followed right behind her, grabbing her wrist and jerking her around to face him.

“It does matter. Answer me, does he make you feel like I do?!” He roared now, his anger so close to the surface, he refused to spend another minute without her, refused to watch her run into someone else’s arms. They went hand in hand, bomb and safety pin.

She refused to meet his eye, vengeful tears filling her eyes, “No, he doesn’t.” And victory sped through him, his smile was instant, before it fell, “And I don’t want him to. I don’t ever want to give someone that kind of control over me. I like what he makes me feel, it’s easy and fun. it doesn’t hurt like this does. “

He should leave her alone. Walk out the door and through the gate. Walk all the way back home. Eat dinner with Jae-Su, Ju-Ri, her mother and Sang-Tae. Should go to sleep and accept his loss. Accept that he ruined the best thing that ever happened to him. Should be happy that she has something fun and easy.

Well, he doesn’t do any of that. Doesn’t listen to his head, that’s telling him to accept his defeat gracefully.

He eats her mouth, there is no other way to describe the ravenous way that he devours her, prying her mouth open with his tongue, swirling around, their tongues meet in a heated duel. Presses her hard, into the wall, hands lost in her hair as she tugs at his shirt, exposing his hot stomach to the cool air. At first, she fights him, biting him hard enough to draw blood, she is vicious. Then her kisses soften and her nails rake over the crevice of his abs, leaving welts in their wake, he moans at the painpleasure. He trails down her elegant neck, sucking the hot skin into his mouth, doing his damnest to leave a mark.

She pushes him back and he smirks, unashamed. She looks absolutely wrecked, panting on the wall, her nipples hard through the silk of her nightgown. He can’t wait to roll them through his teeth and watch her body writhe in ecstasy.

Time stands still, as they stand panting, eyes glazed over in pleasure, waiting to see who will make the next move.

She does.

She throws herself into his waiting arms and he hooks his hands under her ass, drawing her close as she sticks her wet, slithering tongue into his mouth. She kisses like how she does everything else, explosively. Biting at his lip, forcing him to open his mouth wider to accommodate her demanding tongue.

He walks backwards, praying that he won’t drop her, she might actually kill him then. Until his knees hit the couch and he collapses onto it, taking her with him. He moans as she straddles his lap, the heat from between her thighs is searing hot and he grinds up into her, dragging her down to meet his thrust.

Finally, their kisses breaks, both taking a gulp of much needed air, a string of spit connects their mouth, before she licks her lips, splitting it.

“Only I can make you feel this way.” He proclaims with confidence, everything they have been through has brought them to this moment. They aren’t perfect and there’s still so much they need to learn, but they can do it together.

She sits in his lap, eyes shining, taking in his declaration before she suddenly grips the bottom of her nightgown and slips it over her head and then he has a lap full of half-naked Mun-Yeong. Her rose-petal pink panties glow on her pale skin, the moonlight trickling in, makes her look ethereal and he almost pinches himself to make sure this is real.

He comes alive.

Running his hands from her neck, between the valley of her breast, down to her wet center, bringing his finger to this mouth for a taste, he moans as he licks her essence away hungry for more.

She watches in fascination, before grabbing his shirt and dragging it over his head. Her eyes rake across his broad chest, tampering down into a tight narrow waist, he already knows that she likes his body. She had looked like she wanted to lick him all over last time. Unlike that time, he doesn’t push her away as she presses her body against his. Pleasure shooting through him as her nipples catch on his.

They spend minutes just grinding on each other, his hard dick presses up into her moist opening, and she bounces on his lap, breathless moans leaving her swollen mouth every time they meet.

“Please, please I need more.” She begs prettily, the p popping off her lips and he wants to make her beg even more, wants to make her a filthy mess on the couch.

He hoists her to the side, chuckling at her huff of indignation, his baby has never been patient but right now he can’t blame her. He wishes he was inside her, like yesterday. As quickly as he can he rips his pants off and pauses at his boxers, his swollen length standing at attention, the head visible through the slit.

He is unprepared for her mouth to slide down his entire length, her hand gripping the base that is still in the boxers. She swallows around him and he fights to keep his hips still, her wet mouth is obliterating all of his thoughts until all he can think is fuck, fuck, fuck ,fuck.

That sinful mouth, suctions around his heavy dick, licking at his sensitive head causing him to buck up, deeper into the cavern of her mouth. She toys with him, bringing him to the edge only to, slide off completely and start all over.

Her eyes stay on his the entire time, and it is pure unadulterated gratification, watching his length move in her mouth, in and out, in and out, it is hypnotic and he is lost in the pleasure. With a smirk she releases his cock, with a loud slurp, tongue coming out to lick him from her lips, lest she miss anything.

With strong hands, he seizes her and tosses her over the arm of the chair. Putting her dripping, wet pussy on full display, he pries her thighs open and laps up all the goodness. He has never done this before, but is eager to please and porn was a great teacher. The girls in those videos had never been able to get him this hard, their moans fake and repetitive. But now with Mun-Yeong naked and squirming in front of him, he understands why men have gone to war for this.

He would happily wage war for the chance to taste her.

With broad strokes of his tongue, he licks at her folds, biting at her enlarged clit, chest puffing out in pride at her answering squeaks of pleasure, he presses his tongue inside the hot tunnel and she thrusts back in reckless abandon.

Riding his face, now. Bouncing on his tongue and demanding more more more so he slips in a finger and the noise she lets us could rise the devil, himself. It is music to his ears. He thrusts his finger in while exploring her with his tongue, both scraping out every drop of pleasure from her body.

With weak hands, she reaches back and forces his head away from his meal. He sneaks in one more lick, before allowing her to push him away.

Their pants reverberate off the walls, he looks over and she is still hanging over the arm of the couch, looking every inch the temptress she is. He grips himself in his hands, pumping up and down, squeezing at the base to draw this out, he still has to make her beg after all.

She watches him over her shoulder with rapt eyes, reaching back to touch her own wet pussy, pressing in two fingers and curling them roughly inside herself.

She draws those sinfully wet fingers out with a soft squelch and beckons him closer, with the seductive curl of her fingers. He flies across the couch, easily covering the small space that separates them.

He drags her back into his lap, with her back facing him, grinding into her hot core, groaning when his cock head dips in but moving away before she can fully sheathe him. He takes her soft breast into his arms, rubbing the nipples between his fingers and kissing her neck, as she wraps her arms over her head and around his neck. Giving him full control and access to her body.

He sucks hickey after hickey into her skin, in places others will see and hidden places just for his eyes. She is a whining mess in his lap, lifting up to catch his cock, but he snaps his hip away every time, only allowing it to slide through the wet folds. He rubs his dick against her clit and she starts to wail, nails scratching at his shoulders and that’s going to hurt tomorrow.

He looks forward to it.

She twists her head around, finding his lips again, distracting them from the hickey they were sucking into her neck. They wrestle for control, pushing and pulling, tongues meeting into a wet battle and he blames that diversion for his surprise as she lifts up and sinks slowly onto him, engulfing his fattened cock in an indescribable heat.

The connection is like a life wire.

Their hips smack together, colliding over and over, he can’t help but look down and watch his cock disappearing into her, captivated by humanity’s oldest dance. She rides him hard, feet planted on the side of his thick thighs, begging him to go harder, faster, more as he squeezes her jiggling breasts and pushes even deeper into her depth.

Fucking fuck fuck.

Gradually, she starts to slow down, the movement of her hips faltering, he feels the fatigue in his own body but desire pumps like adrenaline through his veins and he wraps his hands around her slim waist, pushing her into the couch, her chest flat with the couch and her ass high in the air. His cock never slips from her body.

He fucks into her hard, delighted at how deep he can move in this position, she thrusts back meeting him, and he does it again, watching her ass shake with the impact. His broad hands gripping the globes of her ass, spreading them, to get a clearer view of his dick inside her.

His movements quicken as he feels the end drawing closer, he doesn’t want it to end, wants to be with her like this forever. But his balls hang heavily, waiting to expel all their fluids into her willing hole, that clutches and pulls him back with every thrust. Reaching around and pressing his fingers to her mouth, he pants, “Suck.” She sloppily takes his fingers, when they feel wet enough he pulls them out from her mouth, praising her, “You’re so good baby, so good to me.”

She grows wetter at his praise and presses back even harder, and he winds his fingers down to her engorged clit and rubs against it until she breaks apart underneath him, he wraps her up in his arms and rides her through her orgasm, feels her juices gushing out and the clenching of her walls, shoves him over the precarious edge he’s been on. His thick cum coats her walls, shooting out as he falls in a heap over her back, just catching the arm of the couch before he could bash his head into it.

Euphoria washes over him in waves, until his vision rights itself and he sees Mun-Yeong still beneath him, fearing that he’s crushing her, he uses the last of his strength to lift his body off hers, flopping onto the other side of the couch.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Her heads snaps over to his in shock, he looks back at her, his eyes wide and hopeful. Some might say that they do things backwards, but he just likes to think they move to the beat of their own drum.

She rolls her eyes before nodding yes. “if you ever make me cry again, I’ll kill you. “

He pumps a victorious fist into the air, take that coffee shop guy.

They spend the rest of the night, cuddling in her bed as he caresses her head and promises to make her happy for as long as she will allow him to. He whispers apologies onto her skin, until they fall into peaceful slumber.

He isn’t trying to stake his claim or anything domineering like that, but when he sees Mun-Yeong sequestered in a dark corner with Daniel the next day, he wanders over and catches the tail end of their conversation.

“I’ve had a lot of fun with you, but there’s someone else I was trying to forget. I hope you understand.”

“I do, spending time with you has been amazing. if you ever change your mind, I’ll be here.”

Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Fuck you very much.

Mun-Yeong starts to walk away, making her way the exit, leaving Daniel despondent in the hallway when he calls out to her, speeding up to catch her by her waist, she stops and rises an eyebrow, challenging him to act and he accepts it happily.

He drags her into a kiss, pressing his tongue into her mouth while stroking the hairs at the nape of her neck. Her immediate moan, making arousal sear through his blood. Imagining how else he could get her moaning.

“Oh my god, they’re kissing!” Sun Byeol’s high-pitched voice reaches his ear and he kisses her harder for good measure.

Pulling away, he sees Mun-Yeong roll her eyes again but he also sees satisfaction in those eyes, she’s just as possessive as he is. She secretly loves that she brings out his primal side, so different from the blushing shy Gang-Tae.

He looks over at coffee shop guy with a smirk, before walking out the hospital with his girl on his arm.

He was never letting her go. Destiny had brought them together, but they had made the decision to stay that way.

#its okay to not be okay fic #its okay to not be okay #psycho but it's okay #moon gang tae #ko mun yeong #healing romance #graveling #smutty smut smut #filthy gutter trash #but like also romance #stole Ju-Ri's mom #I said I would #sorry not sorry

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carewyncromwell · 4 years ago

Photo

*exhales heavily* Cinderella AU time again...and yes, I am in just as much pain as you are.

Carewyn’s dress, which she first wore at the Winter Festival several sections back, is once again based on this design. The scene Orion is pictured in above was inspired by a scene from one of my absolute favorite Disney shorts, The Prince and the Pauper. (Yes, turns out a Mickey Mouse cartoon can end up bringing out some real emotions!) The line “have courage and be kind” is also a reference to Disney’s 2015 live action remake of Cinderella.

Trigger warning for grief, depression, thoughts of suicide, and minor character death.

Previous part is here -- whole tag is here -- so let’s begin.

x~x~x~x

Carewyn rode without stopping all the way back to the Cromwell estate. Her mind was so dark and her spirit panged with such emptiness and pain that she could hardly have explained why. Perhaps she’d thought to confront Charles. Perhaps she’d thought to demand that he explain why Talbott was wrong -- where he’d really sent Jacob, if not off to War. Perhaps she’d thought to demand the truth. But for her to do that, she’d have to accept that what Talbott said was really true. And if she did that...

Overhead the clouds gathered and grew darker still in the night, rumbling with thunder. By the time Carewyn had reached the capital again, it had started to pelt sleet and rain.

When Carewyn had arrived at the Cromwell estate, she leapt off her horse in such haste that her foot got caught in the saddle. Loosing her balance and grip, Carewyn fell right off and right into the mud several feet away from the manor’s front stoop. Her horse, startled by the sound of his rider’s cry, gave a whinny, backing up with its hooves padding the muddy earth.

Carewyn shakily eased herself up out of the mud. One of her slightly-too-big shoes had come off when she fell. She tried to gather enough awareness of her surroundings to retrieve it...but in that moment, she found herself unable to move. The cold of the freezing rain was enough to make anyone feel numb, but combined with the paralyzing despair that clung to her blood like ice, she was just too weak to stand.

Jacob...Jacob...

Carewyn tried to get up, but her legs quaked under her and she slumped forward.

I have to get up, she tried to tell herself. I have to be strong. I can’t fall apart...when...

“Jacob needs me. I have to be strong for Jacob.” That was always the thing that kept her from breaking. That was always the thing that helped her stand back up, every time she fell. That was always the thing that convinced her that she could still endure somehow.

I need to make up for my mistake. I need to bring Jacob home. It’s okay if I can never be free -- it’s okay if I can never be happy again. If I’m a slave to Grandfather the rest of my life, that’s fine, as long as Jacob is...

Carewyn’s hands vaguely clutched at the sleeves of her dress, almost trying to simulate the way Jacob had hugged her nine years ago.

The memory of her older brother’s arms squeezing her tight always used to bring Carewyn some warmth in the past, even through the pain of how much she missed him. But now...now even that memory could not shake the shuddering cold off of her shoulders.

A loud crash of lightning overhead spooked Carewyn’s horse. With a scared whinny, it galloped away toward the stable, leaving her alone. Carewyn, however, barely noticed. She was too lost in her own head.

“My Wyn -- my sweet Wyn -- ”

Jacob’s choked, relieved voice echoed in her ear...only to be replaced with Chester’s recollection of Jacob’s final words.

“‘Wyn. I’ve failed you, Wyn.’”

Carewyn’s heart felt like it was being ripped open. A part of her was gone -- torn out with force.

No, Jacob. I failed you. It was me. It’s all because of me.

She was the foolish one, to have ever trusted Charles in anything. She was the ignorant one, to never have questioned his explanation or why she’d never seen a single shred of a letter from Jacob, all those years. She was the stupid one, to not have immediately run after Jacob, rather than stay under Charles’s thumb all that time. She was the pathetic one who’d sold her and Jacob’s souls away...all for nothing.

Jacob did everything he could to try to get away. He must have known he was going to die, but he did everything he could to try to get back to her...while she...she immediately got to work being her family’s servant. She cowardly slunk into the kitchen and obeyed Charles’s will, in the exact moments when Jacob was trying everything he could to reach her. And then, when the spell was broken...he died alone. He died alone, and in chains, bruised and crying...knowing that he’d never see his sister again.

Carewyn had stayed in line hoping to keep Jacob from suffering...but her inaction -- her stupidity -- had made him suffer all the way up until his last breath.

Tears streamed down Carewyn’s face. She felt like claws were tearing at her heart, ripping her apart from the inside. She couldn’t catch her breath. She gritted her teeth, trying to keep herself from sobbing openly, and huddled in on herself. Her soaking hair was coming out of its bun and falling all around her face, but she didn’t even feel it. All she felt was cold and pain and grief and heavy, unnatural gravity.

You deserve this.

The thought was a whisper in her mind, but it was a knife in her brain and her heart at the same time.

Jacob died alone. Jacob suffered and died...all because you didn’t...

She shut her eyes, her shoulders quaking.

You deserve to be alone. You deserve to die alone.

The voice that had always belonged to that “beast” inside of herself had never been stronger than it was in that moment. Its voice rumbled like the thunder that echoed overhead, and yet it was silent poison in her ear, trickling through to her brain and into her icy blood.

She screamed. It was all she could do. She screamed in anguish, clutching her own shoulders as her tears muddled with the raindrops sliding down her cheeks.

Die alone. Die alone.

Time blurred for Carewyn as she sat in the rain alone. Looking back, she could hardly have said whether it was ten minutes or an entire hour later before anyone approached her.

“Carewyn!”

Carewyn barely heard the cry of her name. It was as if it’d come from a mile away, in a voice that was vaguely familiar in how misty it was, but echoing with anxiety.

Someone collapsed to their knees in front of her, grabbing hold of her arms and hoisting her upper half back up. Carewyn stiffened like a cat -- when her eyes shot open, they could just barely make out a man with wet hair messily falling into his black eyes.

“Carewyn,” breathed Orion.

Carewyn tried to speak, but she couldn’t inhale without choking back a sob. She clenched her teeth harder.

Orion had been waiting outside the gates of the Royaumanian camp for her, she recalled. He must’ve seen her ride off and immediately followed after her.

Orion’s face was so pale -- so anxious. It made Carewyn almost ill to see it. Tearing her eyes away, she brought a hand up to his chest and pushed him back away from her.

“Go away,” she whispered.

The words were an arrow in Orion’s heart.

“Carewyn...”

He reestablished his grip on her shoulders. but Carewyn once again pushed at his chest.

“Leave me!” she rasped.

Orion, however, only squeezed her more tightly, his eyes flooding with pain and caring.

“Don’t look at me like that!” she lashed out despite herself, as more tears slid off her lashes. “I told you to leave me! Leave me be...”

Orion amazingly didn’t respond to Carewyn’s temper. Instead he merely steadied his hold on her shoulders, even though his hands were trembling.

“Carewyn,” he whispered, “your brother...”

“DON’T TALK ABOUT JACOB!”

Carewyn brought both of her hands up and finally shoved Orion off of her. She tried to get up, to put more distance between them, but her legs collapsed out from under her and she fell back into the mud.

“Carewyn...” said Orion, reaching out to try to help her again, but Carewyn wrenched herself out of his reach.

“I told you to leave! I don’t want your help -- I don’t want your kindness, or your caring, or your sadness -- ”

"You don’t want them,” said Orion, his voice a bit faster than normal due to the anxiety throbbing through his head and heart, “but I feel them, all the same. Please...won’t you accept them? Accept how sorry I am, that I couldn’t reunite you with him -- that I couldn’t -- ”

“No.”

Carewyn shut her eyes tight, clutching her own shoulders in a vain attempt to make them stop shaking.

The denial made Orion flinch. “...Why?”

“Because I don’t deserve them!” she shot back, her voice choked with pain. “I don’t deserve your concern -- I don’t deserve your worry -- I didn’t deserve it before, and I don’t deserve it now, so stop trying to give jewels to swine! I will not appreciate them!”

Orion’s black eyes welled up with anguish.

“My lady -- ” he whispered.

“NO.”

The title made Carewyn’s eyes flood with fresh tears, her eyebrows knitting tightly over her eyes.

“I’m not your lady -- nor am I anyone’s! I’m not a lady -- I never was! I’m barely even a Cromwell! My mother ran away from home and eloped with a merchant against our family’s wishes -- Grandfather disowned her long before I was born! I’m just as much an outsider to my family as she was -- as Jacob was! I have no dowry, no money, no status -- the only reason I was even at the palace was because Grandfather sent me to work there! I’m a maidservant, a peasant, an orphan...I’m nothing!”

Orion’s eyes were very wide upon Carewyn’s face. He seemed a bit intimidated by her ferocity, but he didn’t recoil. Instead he tried again to reach out.

“You’re not nothing, Carewyn Cromwell -- you’ve never been nothing...”

He didn’t touch her this time, instead clutching his own hands in his lap, but inched as close to her as she’d let him.

“Carewyn, I was a peasant myself, until my half-brother, the first Prince, was killed,” he whispered. Once again, the anxiety that made his heart race and his head pound was making him talk in a faster, tenser, rambling voice. “It doesn’t matter to me what you are -- I know who you are, and you’re the furthest thing from nothing to -- ”

“Who I am!”

Carewyn couldn’t contain her volatile emotions. She clutched at her own face, the nails digging into her skin.

“Who I am is a SLAVE, Orion! A slave to the Devil I stupidly trusted, thinking he would help my brother...the Devil I stupidly followed the bidding of, trying to get him a crown through my cousins, in the misguided thought that it would spare Jacob from further suffering! And instead...instead all I did was stay in line, march lock-step, for no reason at all! My brother died alone, because of me! I gave up our freedom for nothing!”

Her nails left red marks on her face with the effort of trying to force back her tears.

“Everything, all of it -- all of this pain is my own fault! All because I couldn’t save Mum or Jacob -- because I was actually stupid enough to believe Grandfather would help me, pathetic enough to become as much of a liar and a fraud as he is -- ”

Orion impulsively unclasped his hands and grabbed hold of hers gripping her face.

“Carewyn, please,” he choked. His eyes were rippling like turbulent black waves and his voice was strained with anxiety. “This is your inner beast talking, not you. You don’t deserve this pain and grief. You deserve more, so much more -- you deserve to be happy -- you deserve to be free. If I could break your chains, I would -- if I could bring your brother back, I would -- if I could give you the Southern Sea itself for you to sail on, I would -- ”

Orion’s hands were shaking as he tried and failed to peel her hands from her face. He couldn’t bear to see this woman who had always been so strong, who had become an anchor when he’d needed it, so off-balance. He knew he needed to find his center, and try to focus...but how could he, when his center of balance was the cause of his lack of balance? It made it so that all Orion could do was mirror Carewyn, becoming more upset and losing more hope as she did.

His heartrate was spiking. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to do or say, to fend off the beast assaulting the woman he loved.

“Please...” Orion whispered, “please don’t hurt yourself like this -- please -- let me help you...”

All of a sudden, a lantern was lit inside the manor. A window opened, and the sound of voices came out of it.

“Who’s there?!” bellowed the voice of Blaise Cromwell.

Carewyn and Orion both stiffened. Orion’s hands tightened on Carewyn’s on her face, but she tore out of his grip again.

“Go,” she said very coldly.

Orion faltered, his face desperate. “Carewyn -- ”

“Now. Before you’re caught trespassing.”

Despite the coldness of her voice, it was not cruel. It was very quiet and strained, despite its lack of light -- an opaque shadow of her usual voice.

Orion’s hands were trembling as he impulsively grabbed her hand, bringing it up to his lips.

“Come with -- ”

But she withdrew her hand.

“I said go now!”

Orion closed his eyes, trying to hold in the wounded, miserable flinch that passed over his face.

It was the first time she’d refused to accept his help at all. When they’d first met, he’d said that if she did refuse his help when it was offered willingly, it would only serve to make her all the more wonderful of a contradiction...but now that she had...it only served to make his heart break.

She’s in so much pain, he thought. She’s in so much pain, and yet still, even now, she cannot place her well-being over someone else’s. Even now, she sacrifices, and endures, and suffers...even now, she’s so...

Orion was breathing heavily, shakily. His thoughts were racing as fast as his heart, making his brain throb just as badly.

He was in no state to help her fight her beast in that moment, while fighting his own...especially when she had already surrendered to it.

And so, Orion did as Carewyn asked. He turned away and ran back to his horse. He climbed back onto its back, flicked the reins, and charged back off into the rain, just as the door of the Cromwell estate opened.

Orion returned to the Florentine capital. He was so off-balance that he didn’t have the heart to try to go look for Andre, KC, Erika, and the Weasleys, to tell them where Carewyn had gone. He didn’t have the heart to face them, knowing that Carewyn’s brother had been killed in a conflict with his own father’s men. (For, as one might recall, Orion never learned the circumstances behind the spell cast to stall Jacob’s death.)

Orion arrived at the palace soaking wet nearly three hours later, just before midnight. It was fortunate he did, for as soon as he rode in through the gates, a pretty woman with braided blond hair rushed out to him. It was Penny Haywood -- the chief medic from the war front.

“Orion! Thank God you’re back!”

Orion was too emotionally overwhelmed to give her a proper greeting. Instead he tried to detach himself, climbing off his horse and immediately moving toward the stable to tie her up. Penny, however, seized the horse’s reins out of his hand and stepped in front of him.

“You must go to your father at once,” she said urgently. “He’s up in his chambers -- ”

“I shall speak with him in the morning,” said Orion lowly. He let Penny take his horse -- he couldn’t focus on fighting with her about it. He just had to get somewhere quiet, away from the thunder and pounding thoughts in his head...

“No,” said Penny, her voice very strained. “You must see him now, Orion -- ”

She held onto his horse’s reins as she pursued him and grabbed his shoulder.

“Orion...the King is dying.”

It seemed that General Parkin hadn’t just been blustering back at the battlefield, when he was trying to coax Orion to return with him to camp. The battle King Cosimo V had prematurely waged against the Royaumanian army had stolen many lives and injured many...the most prominent of which was the King himself. He had been shot several times in the heart, an injury too traumatic to the human body for any of Penny’s potions to heal -- and so all that could be done was stall his death through a spell that temporarily gave him the heart of a pig the army had co-opted from a local farm. Severus Snape, the court magician, had stood by the King in his chambers maintaining the spell, in the hopes that Orion would return in time to say his proper goodbyes.

Orion found Skye and McNully waiting outside the King’s bedchambers. Skye offered Orion a towel to dry off, but Orion silently shook his head and, with a trembling hand, pushed open the door.

Snape was sitting at the King’s bedside, his concentration fixed on his spell, but was talented enough of a magician that his focus wasn’t broken when Orion entered the room.

“Your Highness,” said Snape lowly. “At last.”

Orion clasped his hands in front of him. “Master Snape.”

The court magician’s expression was very stony, but he nonetheless rose to his feet and moved to Orion, his eyes boring into his face solemnly.

“I shall leave you alone, to speak with him,” he murmured. “Be quick. His time is short.”

Orion closed his eyes, his head falling in something of a half-hearted nod. Snape swept past him, his outer robes billowing behind him like a bat’s wings, and he closed the large door behind him with a soft, but resounding boom.

Orion’s hands were very clammy. He squeezed them tightly, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth in a vain attempt to calm his racing heart.

“Cosimo...?”

His father’s voice came out very hushed. Orion’s eyes shot open, startled and dismayed.

“Be quick,” the memory of Snape’s voice urged him again.

Taking a deep breath, Orion swept over to his father’s bedside, sitting down in the chair that Snape had been sitting in before.

The King of Florence lay limply in bed, his green eyes half-mast upon Orion’s face. When his son approached, something in them softened.

“Cosimo,” he murmured. “You’re safe...”

Orion nodded. “Yes.”

The King closed his eyes, his expression breaking into a relieved smile. Orion swallowed back the lump in his throat.

“Father,” he said quietly, “I didn’t know you were injured -- if I had, I would’ve come to the camp straightaway...”

“I’m grateful for that,” said the King. “Under the circumstances...I’m afraid I did wonder.”

Orion’s black eyes grew a little smaller. “You believed I wouldn’t care, if you died?”

The King’s face grew very somber as he slowly opened his eyes again. “Not believed. Simply wondered. And...perhaps understood the logic of it.”

Orion’s eyebrows knit together over his eyes with confusion and upset. “Well, I’m afraid I fail to.”

The King sighed.

"...You have never had an easy life, Cosimo,” he said lowly. “I knew it long before you became Prince, and yet I did nothing to mitigate it. I was never a father to you, when you were young. I never gave you anything but a paltry allowance, to make sure you were clothed and fed. All because I chose my duty to our people and country over my love for your mother.”

Orion squeezed his own hands tightly.

“I do not resent you for that,” he murmured. “You couldn’t abandon your responsibility...nor your first son. If you’d done what Mother had intended, and cast aside your wife and my half-brother so that I would be sole prince and heir, I’m certain you would’ve had just as many regrets. My half-brother would’ve been the one in my place...and after having actually known you as a father, that would’ve been far more crippling to his sense of balance -- to his identity and his life.”

His black eyes softened sadly.

“I’m not foolish enough to think that Mother was right, to expect you to choose her ambitions over your duty. She should never have put you in the position to make such a choice...least of all by giving me your name, so that everyone would know I was meant to be a replacement for your first son...who I know you loved more than anyone else. I’ll always love and miss my mother...but she never learned that one can’t love another person by forcing them to choose between two sides of their heart.”

The memory of Carewyn crumpled over in grief in response to her brother’s death rippled over his mind again.

I couldn’t tell her not to grieve for him. I couldn’t disrespect her, by refusing to leave, when she told me to...by forcing her onto my horse and stealing her away...

His heart clenched.

Even so...I wish I did. I wish I wasn’t such a coward that I didn’t just refuse to leave her side, no matter what she or her family said...no matter what happened...

But Royaume and Florence were still at war, despite everything. If he’d stayed and been arrested or gotten into a physical altercation with Carewyn’s family, what would that have helped? Who would it have helped?

The King’s green eyes trailed over Orion’s face, slightly awed. Then they melted, rippling like emeralds under candlelight, and he reached out a hand through the bed curtains toward Orion.

“...You truly have become so wise, Cosimo,” he whispered, his eyes sliding closed. “So wise...”

After a brief hesitation, Orion shakily detached his hands and took his father’s in both of them.

“You...will be a great king, my son.”

Orion’s eyes fell down to his father’s hand.

“I’m not ready,” he confessed.

“No prince is.”

King Cosimo squeezed his son’s hands, the tension flooding out of his shoulders.

“Tell me about her,” he murmured.

“About Mother?” asked Orion.

The King shook his head. “No. The lady you wrote of, in your letter. The Royaumanian.”

Orion’s heart felt like it had been dunked in water. It sparked some adrenaline and made his heart race, yes...but it was still so cold...

“She’s...”

Orion closed his eyes. He inhaled and exhaled several times to try to steady his heartrate.

“...a robin in a cage, Father.”

The King didn’t respond. Orion pressed on.

“She has a frame so small and fragile that anyone could underestimate her...but her soul has wings strong enough to take flight, if she so chose. Her feathers sheen with light and color, yet they pale in the face of the brilliance of her eyes. She flits about with courage and agility. She has a heart too large for her red breast to contain...and so she sings. Oh, how she sings! Her song could soothe the most savage beasts...and they have, in the hearts of men. It can bring people together -- inspire hope for a future that had seemed impossible. And...”

He swallowed.

“...she’s selfless. The bravest, kindest, most selfless person I’ve ever met in my life. Nothing frightens her. Nothing intimidates her. No pain is one she won’t endure...so long as the people she loves thrive. As long as she can bring others happiness...she’ll take every bit of pain onto her own shoulders, take the brunt of the whole world’s ire...just so that no one else has to. She’ll help a complete stranger simply because they need help...and yet never demand a single thing for herself. All because, even with how wonderful and good of a person she is...she still somehow sees herself as unworthy.”

His voice had become very hushed.

“Her standards...are higher than I could ever fathom.”

“I can imagine.”

The King’s hand squeezed Orion’s hands lightly.

“She truly has inspired you, Cosimo. I realize now that you never wished to be a King of War, as I have been...but she was the one who encouraged you to fight for that wish, regardless of the risk. When I first read your letter...I was so blinded by my own fears...of losing you, as I had your brother...that I could only read your words as evidence that an infatuation had caused you to recklessly put yourself in danger...just as I might have, as a young man. But now...now I only regret that I won’t get to meet Lady Cromwell myself.”

He opened his eyes, and to Orion’s surprise, they’d started to flood with tears.

“I understand the pain of loving someone who you’re not free to be with,” said the King. “I lament that you must know it too...but from the sound of things...your lady knows love better than either I or your mother did.”

He actually gave a choked laugh.

“Please consider courting her -- I’d love knowing my son had a queen like that, by his side.”

Orion wanted to smile in return, but he just couldn’t.

Somewhere far away, a clock began to toll the hour. The sound made Orion’s heart clench with anxiety.

“No...”

He looked at his father. As the second toll gonged, the King clutched his chest. The third and fourth tolls prompted the wounds in his chest to start reopening.

“My time is up, Cosimo,” the King said solemnly.

“No,” said Orion again, “no...not yet...”

“It’s all right.”

The sixth gong made the blood blossom up out of the wounds in his chest. Despite the pain he was clearly in, King Cosimo faced Orion with a very brave, firm expression.

“You must promise,” he told him, and his voice came out as a rasp, “promise me you’ll rule Florence from your heart...justly...and wisely.”

Orion felt like his racing heart was stuck in his throat.

“...I promise,” he said at last.

“Follow...your lady’s example. Have courage...and be kind.”

“I will. I promise.”

The tenth toll of the clock made blood spill out the side of the King’s mouth, but he forced a smile all the same, even as tears streamed from his eyes.

“...I’ve...never been more proud...to be your father.”

He kept his eyes on Orion’s face all the way up until the last stroke of midnight. His eyes remained there even after all of the light had left them and he had taken his final breath.

Orion’s hands were shaking as he held his father’s limp hand. He bowed his head, closing his eyes, and sat there in silence. He breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth, for a very long moment.

Florence...its people, its land, was solely his responsibility now.

His shoulders suddenly felt so heavy -- as if he were suddenly Atlas, with the weight of the world resting upon him. It was suffocating, but it was also devastating...for no man could hope to run free, carrying such a heavy burden. He wouldn’t be able to leave Florence as he pleased any longer. He wouldn’t be able to escape from his duties for a day, or make believe he was anything other than what he was.

Carewyn couldn’t fly because she was in a cage. And now...Orion couldn’t fly because he bore a weight too heavy for him to carry.

It was only when the door of the chambers opened several minutes later and Skye, McNully, Penny, and Snape all reentered that Orion raised his head. He looked over his shoulder at them, his face very restrained and calm, even though his black eyes were shining with unshed tears.

Skye immediately ran over to Orion and threw her arms around his shoulders, burying her face in his shoulder and squeezing tight. McNully wheeled right up beside Orion too, his own eyes full of tears. For once, he didn’t seem to know what to say.

The door inched a bit more open, and Orion caught sight of Lord Malfoy coming to stand in the door frame. Although he was dressed in black and tried to appear solemn, however, his cold gray eyes were glinting with an odd kind of satisfaction.

Lord Malfoy had certainly not planned for things to unfold as they did...but the wealthy businessman wasn’t unhappy at the thought of the King who’d been too noble for his own good being replaced with an ignorant bastard peasant.

Orion released King Cosimo’s hand at last to hug Skye in return. Then, detaching himself from her, he rose from the chair and moved over to the bed so he could bring up a hand and gently close his father’s eyes.

“The King is dead,” Snape said solemnly, his eyes locked solidly on Orion as the Crown Prince faced him. “Long live the King.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #cinderella au #orion amari #carewyn cromwell #my art #my writing #penny haywood #skye parkin #murphy mcnully #severus snape #*exhales heavily*#out of the frying pan and into the fire #but hey...can't expect to get a happy ending without a little trouble along the way

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