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makeyoumine69 · 3 months

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My Lovely Detective VI

— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Detective!OC

— CO-WRITER: @iron-flavored-lipgloss

— CONTAINS: Dub-con smut, accidental voyeurism, fingering, choking, blow jobs, manhandling, degradation, dirty talk, pet names.

— WORDS: 2.4k

— A/N: Hello dear readers, here's a new chapter! We hope you enjoy it and please feel free to share your opinions with us! Big hugs

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [AO3].

Loosing Myself

Nothing had ever stopped Patrick from getting exactly what he wanted; the little boy who had always owned every new shiny toy and whose pets had disappeared under mysterious circumstances had long since become a man who now bathed in the shallow pleasures of endless luxury, drugs, sex...

It was true that most women only slept with him for the power of money, a purely transactional affair, or in the hope of siphoning off his wealth and status. 'Although that's not to say that these sharp features and the size of my cock don't help in attracting these whores,' Bateman mused briefly, his hand running down his flat stomach and stroking his hardening length in self-indulgent fascination.

"No" doesn't exist in his world, because "yes" is usually just a matter of payment, and so he finds a certain satisfaction in taking what wasn't even part of the deal. Those materialistic sluts screaming underneath him, realizing that they made a miscalculation, that he will rip and rape their bodies, because nothing is worth anything to him anymore, and death is the real price of a night with him. No woman has ever come close enough (or lived long enough) to know the real Patrick Bateman. But Andrea, who he kidnapped and brutalized, and who was now begging him to fuck her...

'Is she losing it? Are there now two lunatics living on the 11th floor of the American Gardens building?'

"You're a stupid fucking bitch," Patrick groaned, confused and yet aroused by the desperation in her voice, her body writhing and shaking with what seemed to be a serious need for him. "I guess I already fucked your brain out, Detective," he muttered, emphasizing her profession with a certain mockery as his hand wandered between her legs. She was so wet that his fingers slid effortlessly into her this time and Patrick couldn't help but laugh in disbelief.

"You really are a dirty, filthy whore to me," he realized as Andrea took one finger after another inside her, more than ready for him, but now of all times he was dragging things out. All this in spite of the fact that Patrick was aching for her at this very moment, rubbing his erection against the silk sheets to take the edge off.

He was creating a special kind of torture for both of them with the way his thumb kept teasing her clit, his mouth instead attacking the sensitive area around her inner thighs, leaving bruising kisses on the plump flesh. Andrea's skin was so warm to his touch, a heat that radiated not only from her body but also from the look in her eyes as she met Patrick's gaze.

"Not satisfied with my fingers, huh? Then I need you to be more specific. I need you to tell me exactly how you want me to fuck you."

No, that was not her, it was simply not possible. Andrea, she always knew, wouldn't act like a fucking whore in heat, but... but what if that Andrea was already gone? Lost in the chaos of pain, filth and depravity?

"Ah," the woman gasped as Bateman pulled her hips toward his groin, the leaking head of his cock slipping teasingly between her pussy lips, now so swollen they literally blossomed with arousal. "I want...I want to feel you deep inside me...all of you-aahhh!"

The moment Patrick began to thrust his hips against her rear, all of her insides were already on fire, it was like a fucking torture to be stuck in the middle between being so empty and so full.

Whimpering, Andrea wanted to bite the blanket to stop herself from crying. Although her pathetic condition could be seen in the mirror on the other side of the bedroom. "Please, just, take me," the woman turned to face him, his prominent eyebrows knitted together as the man was so focused on the process before his hazel eyes; the sight of Andrea's moist, tight cunt enveloping his veiny dick with such eagerness. "Patrick, mmm-Patrick!"

Did she just moan his name? Did she? Or was that not her?

Trapped in her own internal conflict, the Detective fell limp on the sheets under the weight of Bateman's muscles, and that one move gave him the perfect opportunity to bury himself as deep as he could until his balls began to slap her curvy butt.

A low, almost animalistic grunt erupted from the man's chest as he thrust into her, then again and again. Each time was harder and more savage, Andrea had to push the fabric of the covers into her mouth, using it as a gag, her pussy struggling to take him all in, even though it was quite difficult.

"Mmhm," she murmured, almost screaming, while her hands raked around the bed, not knowing what to grab on to, but the next second Patrick fixated them in front of her face and lowered himself even closer to her, so that now his hot breath fanned around her neck, scorching her tender skin. "Big...so big, a-awww." Andrea convulsed several times as the man grabbed her hair with no mercy, forcing her to look up at him.

Those dark eyes, they were the eyes of the devil, nothing more, nothing less.

It had been days since Detective Donald Kimball had last heard from his assistant, and considering her last assignment had been the interrogation of Patrick Bateman, it was obvious what must have happened.

Now Kimball had to admit it to himself—letting her go alone had been a miscalculation. He had simply assumed that Bateman would be more rational.

Because even though the serial killer had taken the trouble to cover his tracks this time, Kimball knew where to look first.

He had been skulking around the American Garden building for days, fully expecting not to be greeted with a single sign of life from Miss Moore. He was ready to expose Bateman for what seemed to have cost his colleague his life - until he saw Andrea Moore through the window.

Very compromising, not well, but obviously alive.

For some reason, Bateman must have taken a liking to her, because why else hadn't he killed the woman who was sitting next to him like a ticking time bomb?

Was this man just waiting for his luck to run out? Was he longing for Kimball's punishment?

Which he could have given to Bateman.

He should have called for backup to storm the apartment immediately.

But after 20 years of service, he was motivated by more than honor and a handshake. The government paycheck didn't reflect his excellent work, Kimball had decided.

Just as Kimball was about to leave this place, tired of wasting his time just looking at the motionless female body on Bateman's big bed, an owner of that luxury apartment appeared in the detective's vision. Patrick, naked in all his glory, moved slowly toward Andrea, who was still lying on the bed, probably unconscious. And only then did Kimball understand what all this could mean—Bateman had finally found his perfect little doll, or rather, a helpless slave.

For a moment, the man put down his binoculars, wondering if he really wanted to know what was about to happen. With a sigh, Kimball let curiosity take over, and now he was back to watching the couple, who were completely unaware of a sudden onlooker. But even if Bateman knew, he would probably enjoy it. Why had Kimball thought of this? Maybe because of the big camera that was right in front of the king-size bed, the sheets of which were so white that it was painful to look at them.

As in the pornographic movies that were quite popular these days, Patrick positioned himself over the dark-haired woman and gripped her neck hard enough to bruise, Donald could swear he could hear her shaky gasping next to him. Was he going to kill her afterwards? At some point, the detective couldn't believe that his assistant had been here all this time. The train of thought distracted him for a moment, but when he returned to the lewd performance, the man almost dropped the binoculars from the way Andrea was sucking Bateman's huge cock as if her life depended on it. But maybe it was?

Too many questions and no answers. Too much depravity and literally no shame in their movements, it all looked like they had done it so many times before. Patrick's tight grip on the back of her head, urging her to go faster, to take him deeper, until she felt the scratch in her throat, until his cum dripped from her luscious lips and down her chin.

There was something about the way Bateman bent her neck so their lips could meet, oblivious to the taste of his own release, perhaps even turned on by it. About Andrea pressing her soft body so willingly against Bateman's defined abdomen. And if Bateman had ever harbored violent urges toward Miss Moore, now was clearly not the time to convince her; they both sank back onto the white sheets, his broad shoulders almost completely blocking the view of her smaller frame to the voyeuristic eye of Detective Donald Kimball.

Andrea's legs wrapped around Bateman's surprisingly slender waist, clinging to him as if he might disappear forever if she didn't. Their bodies turned, and if this was a fight, it had to be a very passionate one...

Bateman's hand all over her, on her face, her waist, her backside.

Kimball couldn't help but make an embarrassing noise, fortunately only audible to his own ears, and he gripped the binoculars tighter in response.

He would never have expected this from a woman who dressed so conservatively every day. What surprised him even more was how a man like Bateman could be so enraptured by a single tantalizing, if not a little trashy, tattoo.

Massaging the inked skin and kissing his way lower between her legs...

Kimball couldn't say he fully understood what was going on between them, at least psychologically, because the physical attraction was clear to him even from this distance. It was evident in the way Bateman buried his head deeper between her legs, grinding against the sheets, and Andrea's body convulsed and shook with undisguised pleasure.

And Kimball felt relief of a different kind wash over him - for now there was a way for his depraved mind to justify the next step: A private offer Mr. Bateman couldn't refuse.

How many days have passed? Andrea could never know, since she was imprisoned in a golden cage on the 11th floor of the American Gardens Building. The apathy seemed to reach its limits, and the woman even began to refuse to eat, shower, or even leave Bateman's bedroom, hiding under the covers like a frightened animal. Such an attitude only made Patrick more cruel and brutal, Andrea's skin was like a canvas for his marks, such as bruises, scratches or even bites, which he left each time they fucked, but he always took care of them meticulously, applying some balm and bandage.

Why couldn't he just let her die? Why did he keep dragging her out of bed day after day to give her a bath, as if she were his dear pet that he loved to take care of? Well, maybe she really was? The meals Patrick gave her were extremely nutritious and healthy, they were deliciously cooked, but Andrea could never really enjoy their taste. Colors seemed to leave her current life as well as her former self. She was like an empty, broken phial, and all of Bateman's attempts to fill it up were unsuccessful, to say the least; the fact that he was possessively pumping her with his seed didn't count. Though, it was a fucking miracle that the woman hadn't gotten pregnant yet.

'If I'm really stuck here forever, there's only one way out,' Andrea thought to herself as she watched Bateman cutting an apple for her in the kitchen, the knife so sharp that Patrick didn't even have to use any pressure to cut the fruit. 'I should try to kill him,' she jerked away as the man appeared in front of the kitchen island and offered her a slice of apple with a wicked glint in his hazel eyes.

"I'm not hungry," Andrea muttered, turning away and crossing her arms. The only thing she could think about now, besides the constant plotting of her possible escape, was the upcoming party Bateman was going to take her to. Even though she still couldn't believe that he was actually going to let her go out with him. It was so weird. "Am I really going with you? Or it's just another evil joke?"

There was an undisguised challenge in Andrea's voice that only fueled Bateman's interest in her. This woman was like an unruly element, a force he wanted to tame so badly, and he knew that one day he would eventually do it.

"No jokes, honey," Patrick sneered, leaning against the kitchen counter, the apple slice still in his hand. "But," the man suddenly straightened up and walked around the corner to get even closer to Andrea. "This is not an ordinary party, this is a special one."

"Special?"

Smirking haughtily, the man stopped right next to her, his one hand already finding a place on her shoulder, kneading it in a relaxing way, but it only made her more nervous. "Yes, it's hosted by one of my friends from Wall Street," his soft baritone echoed off the walls, creating a strangely hypnotic vibe. "I'm sure you'll like it."

With a devilish grin, Patrick quickly popped the apple slice into his mouth before drawing close to Andrea's face and in the next second, their lips collided in a sweet but possessive kiss. The fruit was so tasty and soft that its juice spilled out and ran down the woman's chin and neck. Holding her in place with his strong arm, Bateman pulled away only to catch the small drops of sugary fluid running down her soft skin, causing Andrea to shiver, but she managed to stifle a moan.

"Does your friend know what you've done?" She asked quietly, her head tilted to the side, and even though his touch was pleasurable, there was no way she was going to show it to him.

"And what have I done?" He replied, locking his tantalizing gaze with hers. "I just claimed what was mine, don't you think?"

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and my amazing co-writer @iron-flavored-lipgloss and turn on notifications to know when we update!

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1117feverlessdreams · 9 months

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Drivin’ Me Crazy

🚦⚠️ PAIRING: Yunho x GNreader!

🚦⚠️ SUMMARY: As you begin to break away from the bonds of your billionaire father that has always held you back, you found a newfound respect for Jeong Yunho, his personal driver, who had unknowingly changed your life for the better.

🚦⚠️ WORD COUNT: 12.3k

🚦⚠️ TAGS/WARNINGS: Daddy issues x9999746564545664, passing of mother, angst, name calling, spanking, fingering, choking, spitting, & creampie. Uses of darling, slut, and baby. Cutesy parts with fluff, exploration of kinks.

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While, unlike the dramatic tale of Rapunzel, you are permitted to leave the home you were raised in to venture freedom. However, the means by which you can obtain that freedom is limited and overruled by your father.

It’s always been about him, the billionaire made from profitable expenditures that drags you along on his several business trips.

It is you, ‘the child’, who has not been taught to fend for themselves, compelled with the only choice to follow his suit.

Even as his one and only child, people weren’t interested in who you were, a fact alleviated by your father’s intervention to appease everyone you befriended by showering them with gifts…or screwing their mothers.

To your knowledge, your mother passed away when she gave birth to you. In that regard, it is not ironic that your father cannot even look you in the eye, or manage to speak to you in a “domestic” manner.

In the past, you’ve had one too many step-parents to count beyond two pairs of hands. But not even one real parent you felt loved from ever, on a single digit.

From the day you are born, up until your non-thrilling adulthood, a flat rectangular sheet of paper with a printed value and a dead man's face continues to place before you, money.

You hated that it held so much power. That it’s truthfully so ordinary, but people feel that they need it because of its abusive rewards of control and greed.

‘People’ like your father.

It is only with money that a person can ride so braggingly across many cities in a sleek black Rolls Royce Phantom Sedan, concealing its interior with tinted windows that hide the drowsiness of your father by your side.

Meanwhile on your other side, sits his stiff tuxedo-draped bodyguard, focused with their gaze straight forward through designer black shades.

His employees are the ones you’re quite familiar with to be very serious in most aspects of your life. Not a funny bone in their body, specially built by the demands of your father’s purpose; to be the centerpiece of everything.

Thus, as you grow older, so does the despise you have for him. Evil thoughts conjure in your sensitive mind, some of which you have to control against the strengths of your wish to remain sane.

But even so, as you ride to the next big city for yet another business trip, you make it all about you this time, crossing the line of professionalism by provoking the only unguarded person inside the luxurious vehicle.

Presumably, you do not intend to inflict any harm, but rather a pleasurable honor to yourself which is fatefully ignored whenever you're in the presence of said billionaire of profitable expenditures.

Your father’s new hire, Jeong Yunho, controls the wheel of the Rolls Royce with precise concentration and smoothness.

Perhaps along with the great deal of attention provided to his black mullet-styled hair, or the dry cleaning of his uniformed vest, and the ironing of the underlying tight white button-up, black tie, and smooth trousers without a wrinkle in sight. In addition to cleanliness adds his accessory of a one-handed leather black glove steering next to his bare, veiny, decorative hand with ring bands, and best of all, the pretty jewels in the inner corners of his eyes as a feminine accent.

With the exclusion of Jeong Yunho, everything else was too short of being perfect. To you, he was exceptionally perfect.

You came so far as to remove every obstacle that could prevent your father's tyranny from spoiling him. Yunho was knowledgeable, kind, generous, and sweet. However, all your father could see, was a driving tool.

Thus, it was the ideal time to establish a relationship in the quiet atmosphere of the vehicle, which is the only place at which you can meet…and reclaim the freedom your father had claimed for you, and indefinitely… for him.

…

“Mr. Chauffeur, or, Yunho was it?” Your speech sounds above the AC blowing in the vehicle. In effect, there is a slight shift in your father's slumber, your bodyguard still remains seated stiffly, but the man to whom you were speaking to glances at you quickly through the rearview mirror, nodding in acknowledgment as the front pieces of his hair softly sways, and then he ever so professionally resumes eye contact onto the busy road ahead.

“This may sound forward…” you continue, reviewing his beautiful physique once more as your gaze locks at his ring, specially wrapped around his ring finger. “But I was wondering, Yunho, if you were married by any chance?”

Your father snorts loudly and slowly awakens from his nodding off, yet the stagnant bodyguard's expression remains the same. Yunho, the chauffeur, proceeds to be unfazed, smirking even. Despite this, it was a minor tactic to ensure your father was alert to your next set of words.

“As you may know…dear father is recently divorced, and I was just wondering if you could maybe just provide him some stable relationship advice, you know, man-to-man.”

Your lips bunch in prevention from grinning as the bodyguard moves for the first time since you’ve sat in the backseat. In the brief moment of attempted adjustment for comfortability, they then adjust their shades upward with the tip of a pointer finger, sniffing loudly through their nostrils.

At the same time, your father has sat up and is taking a quick scan of all areas of the vehicle. He is observing the shift change in the enclosed space before glaring at you harshly.

“Y/n, what’s gotten into you?” In response, you shrug carelessly and he averts his gaze to the charmingly focused expression of his newly hired chauffeur. “You’re not obligated to answer that sir…”

Your father then hardens his apologetic gaze into a dark one, directly toward you as he turns in his seat. “Also, it’s Mr.Jeong. I thought I taught you when you were small that you always call our associates by their last names. Have some respect, child.”

With his one handed glove, the tan and handsome driver turns the wheel toone-handed make a right, looking both ways to ensure that he or anyone else does not risk your safety, a basic responsibility of his duties.

“That’s quite alright sir, I understand.” Your attention is drawn to the cherry lips that move with the suddenness of Mr.Jeong’s honey-drizzled voice. In the short time, it takes after completing the turn, he glances quickly at you in the mirror, his smirk never leaving, and the reflections of his eye jewelry gleam from the sun like a frame-by-frame animated effect. “The answer is no, I am not married your legacy.”

If it weren’t for his amusing response- or good looks, the name your father had assigned him to give you in the boast of his ego would have triggered you greatly. Yet you smile in glee as you observe your father exhaustingly adjusting his suit blazer.

His heart sings with relief that your preposterous question didn’t blow things out of proportion, and he exhales a deep breath before settling back in for his nap.

Your mischievous outlook on his actions leads you to see the situation as an opportunity to disturb the peace once more. You actively gain closer to the Chauffeur in front by moving your ass to the edge of the seat, gripping the passenger headrest, and arching your back extensively for a lengthier reach. “So a partner then…or maybe a fiancé perhaps?”

“Y/N.” You hear harshly whispered on your left side. Then looking back a quarter over your shoulder to shrug at your father as if you didn't see the problem in asking.

“Neither your legacy. I am not seeing anyone as of current.” It’s inescapable to not stare into the rearview mirror when the authoritative and single man states his response rather bluntly. He flickers his eyes to meet yours in the mirror again for seconds longer, allowing you to catch a small smile that dents into his defined apple-like cheekbones.

It intrigues you to think that maybe he finds this as amusing as you do, because working with your father certainly doesn’t come with this much excitement.

“What about kids?” An upcoming red light makes him slow to a stop, allowing him to directly response to your question. “I have not bred any children yet your legacy.”

You remove your hand from the passenger seat's headrest and fully lean forward, nearly folding your body in half with your arms crossed against your chest, and onto the middle counsel to further enclose the space in between you two.

A tap on your lower back pokes onto your spine from your father but you ignore it while a sly smirk masks onto the lower half of your face. “Really? So a guy like you, is living a life like this…all alone?”

“Well yes…It’s been like that for quite some time now your legacy. In any case, I believe independence should not always be perceived so negatively. I’m free enough to create the life I want to have for myself.”

In the blink of an eye, his head turns so quickly that you do not notice the sudden movement of direct eye contact. Without warning, you are compelled to lose yourself within those brown orbs without knowing what you are searching for.

It was as if he was trying to communicate something with you that weighed heavy on the brain. You were thrown so high for a loop that you had almost slipped up and forgotten the hidden objective you were trying to accomplish here.

In another blink his eye gems encapsulate a green hue in his interest corners, then snapping you out of a trance. “Green light.”

The charming male regains feel of the wheel and rolls his eyes forward with the never leaving smirk as he hits the gas with a heavy foot. If you hadn’t leaned forward already, you would’ve flown to the front with him.

But in either case, it would’ve been a win-win.

…

It is easy to identify the destination from about two blocks away due to the valet parking belt that secures the building in front. It is for this reason that your father must ride in his Rolls Royce.

Like it’s his own red carpet, he arrives fashionably on decent timing so streetwalkers, service workers, and even business partners can rightfully adapt to his presence.

A speedy Jeong Yunho unbuckles his seatbelt, steps out of the car, and runs around the front of the vehicle to move onto the sidewalk to reach in front of your father's door. He opens it entirely with a leather glove hand, allowing your father, you, and his muted bodyguard to get out to showcase your status.

“Thank you, Mr.Jeong, We will see you later tonight at 9 o'clock sharp.”

“Of course, as previously requested sir.” After your father makes his way out, it takes you a bit longer to come out than usual…almost like you're purposely taking your sweet time. The bodyguard behind you tries to give physical assistance but you insist on handling it yourself.

“Child, it’s important that we make a great first impression by having fine time management.”

“Why yes, my dearest apologies father.” You make yourself ‘unstuck’ from the invisible force that held you bound in the backseat, finally making your way out the door and turning alongside the tall dark, and handsome Yunho, who remains holding the door until…oh no, you accidentally trip and collide into his broad arms.

“Careful! I mean-excuse me your legacy…are you alright?” As you look up at him with what you perceive to be pouty eyes, an old trick that has grown out of whack long ago with your father, Yunho nearly apologizes again, but you cut him off as you stare into his bedazzled eyes whispering, “Drive safely, it’d be a waste if I couldn’t talk you again."

As perplexed as his fluttering eyelashes read him to be, the big friendly giant manages to respond effectively. “I always do”, are the words in which you hear under his breath that only waves in sound inside your close distance. “Hopes for a great evening your legacy.”

Standing beside the hypervigilant bodyguard that guards him, your father nods to Yunho behind you before walking forward to enter the building and unforgettably leaves you behind.

Perhaps your attempts at ‘savoring’ Yunho and simultaneously inducing your father’s frustration were a little extreme…

But to you, it seems like everything was going according to plan.

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A FEW DAYS LATER

“Mr.Jeong.” Your father nods in greeting to Yunho who holds open the car door as usual. “A pleasure to assist you again sir.” Your father smiles at the driver's greeting while subtly fixing his tie, then joining the inside of his fully owned luxurious car with another one of his bodyguards.

You’re trailing a few steps behind him while stumbling to catch up. It seemed he had a tendency of leaving you behind more often lately, not that you are bothered by it anyhow. Especially when you can talk to Yunho even more so as you reach to stand in the way of the opened car door.

“So you’re still alive huh?” The statured man switches his extensive legs and looks toward the ground, scooping his neck to look right into your eyes, displaying his pretty white-toothed smile, and those cheekbones that hold the greatest balls of light. "That I am. I hope that doesn’t cause any inconvenience to the legacy.”

“Not at all…” You take the last digestions in seeing all of him in his well-fitted black waistcoat, trousers, and shiny leather boots until you arrive at tonight’s occasion. “It’s actually quite a pleasant surprise.”

For a brief moment, your breaths mix as you stick one leg in the backseat, coming into the car sideways and meeting Yunho face to face. Not even a minute after you get comfortable seated, he closes the door and does his little jog around the car. Never did you take your eyes off of him even through the window shield.

When the towering and ethereal man enters into the drivers seat buckled and secure, he starts the vehicle immediately and steers onto the road.

Unconsciously you draw closer to the middle to see him, or rather, to make sure he could see you. It wasn’t long until you were talking again shortly, ignoring the groans your father made at your side.

“So, how’s your day been…Mr. Jeong?”

“Just fine your legacy, and yours?

“So good, so far.”

“I’m glad to hear it, your legacy.”

“Oh…are you?”

There was a slight increase in your father's groans, as he began to massage his temples tentatively in frustration.

“Of course. As a person of service-you and your father’s service, it pleases me to know you’re doing well your legacy.”

You’re moving more toward the middle, to make yourself aligned in the mirror for Yunho to view. “It makes me glad to know you’re doing just fine too. However, it’s just this one thing that’s been bothering me…Mr.Jeong.”

Much to your wanted expectations he glances carefully through the mirror attentively with brows furrowing in concern. To enhance your bothered attitude you cross your arms with a slight pout. “Could you not say your legacy after every sentence? I mean it can be annoyingly tedious right?”

While merging to another lane, he has time to respond to your question thoughtfully. Especially with your father wavering by your side. “I don’t mind it all, you’ve rightfully earned the title. But if you so claim that it bothers you, what would you prefer me to call you then your-”

“Y/n works just fine.”

“Does it?” Your father seconds.

“Yes…it does.”

“Child?”

“Father?”

He gives you a ridiculed stare that makes you sit back and stay quiet for the rest of the ride much to your father’s satisfaction, but for you to possession of the last word was enough in regards to satisfactory to yourself.

…

Even though you are the first to get out of the vehicle when you arrive at another business convention, you’re the last to go into the facility as you attempt to bid goodbye to Yunho.

“Drive safe Yunho, I’ll see you later tonight!”

Instead of a verbal response, Yunho bows deeply, and almost apologetically rather than the happy-go-lucky smile he generously gives after picking you up and dropping you off.

You notice his eyes are not meeting yours but rather right behind you. In following his sight, you spot your father next to his bodyguard through the building's stained blue glass. His hands are overlapped behind his back, appearing very unamused as if Yunho and you are being judged for pulling each other back from doing the things you should be doing.

You roll your eyes and turn to meet Yunho again, even with evil eyes hawking you two. It was only then you see Yunho opening the drivers door, stiffly putting a hand up in goodbye when your eyes briefly meet. He then moves into the vehicle, buckling up immediately, and starts the engine, pulling off in a matter of seconds.

Needless to say, he left you behind in dust with the only matter to attend to your obligated duties… ‘your father’s legacy’.

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ONE WEEK LATER

The chauffeur sits still buckled in the seat, holding the shifting gear with his bare leather-clad hand steadily, ready to pull off to attend your father's grand event tonight, a celebration at the Five Star Michelin restaurant he purchased downtown.

Whenever your father invests so much in something so special, it would be unbearable for him not to blow more money on a celebration. Just for the hell of it.

As his child, you should be happy for him. But you’re everything but, rather annoyed, pressed, disgusted. There was a feeling inside your gut that he had everything to do with Yunho's change of attitude from last week.

He wasn’t as cheerful as he once was, his responses to your flirtations were dry and brief, and he would barely look at you in the rearview as you attempted to talk to him.

But the difference with you today is that you decided enough is enough. Your father has brought you down in your most joyous moments, and it was long overdue for you to return the favor.

This time you’re sat right behind Yunho, while next to your father, who’s sat with another one of his bodyguards next to him. The particular arrangement was decided upon by your father for some odd reason. But you’re thinking, with your position being behind Yunho, he would not be able to see you in the car at all.

But he can still hear you of course…and that’s where your diabolical plan comes into play.

Through the space between the window and the headrest, you lean forward and hold onto each cushioned side on the back of Yunho's seat with both hands. His hands then grip harshly onto the steering wheel, turning his knuckles into the brightest tint of white.

“Nice to see you again Yunnie…can I call you that?”

Your father who sits in the middle stares directly into the rear view mirror, burning his laser-like vision through the glass, and reflecting its power back into Yunho's eyes, blinding him with fear.

“If it pleases you, you can call me whatever you wish. But-erm, however, it is still my honorable service to be the legacy’s dutiful Chauffeur.”

Yunho looks briefly through the rearview mirror, and your father gives him an appreciative nod. It was then that you had a favorable idea of exactly what was being done.

How cruel for your father to think he could maintain control of everyone else’s conversations with undercover telepathic signals, or more so, control of Yunho.

In fact, what he didn’t know, is that it couldn’t weaken your determination in the slightest, yet it does the complete opposite. One thing you’re good at is games, and so you play into his little diversion.

“Ughhh you are so unbelievably proper today Yunnie, it’s just Y/n remember?” From your perspective, between the small crack of his headrest and window, you can see that his grip on the wheel grows even tighter. It was then shortly afterward that his head began bobbling from the road, and then to the rearview mirror as he struggled to interpret all the mixed signs and signals. “What’s wrong?”

Suddenly, a hand grabs onto your shoulder and pulls you from Yunho's seat to your rightful one. “Don’t criticize him. The question you should be asking my child is; What’s right?” As if those tacky words of wisdom haven’t given you the ick, the second your father throws his arm around your shoulder does.

“Properness is something you should adapt to. The people would beg to converse with you more, and you’d actually have friends. Who then could potentially be fantastic business partners by the way.”

It couldn’t be anymore oblivious that he was trying everything to pin you down to a stump. To keep you from embarrassing him tonight, and acting out ‘unprofessionally and unethically’. Even though it hurts to admit it, your heart pounds vigorously from the slick venom he curated in his artificial advisory. But you’re not a ‘child’ anymore, you can’t be fooled, or kept silent with a jumbo lollipop.

You throw his arm from your shoulder in the nicest yet slickest manner possible, while simultaneously putting your arm around his shoulders. “I’m so thrilled to hear you say that father, which gives me this brilliant idea! Yunho here”, you gesture towards said man with your free hand, “…should come to the event with us. He can be my friend, and teach me how to speak with this ‘properness’ you want me to adapt to.”

The look of shock on your father's face as a result of something you wittily said is something you would die for, but it’s here, on earth, and oh if you had a camera on hand to picture this moment, you’d take it to the grave.

In the absence of an answer, he glances at his bodyguard, nudging the stiff arm with his elbow, and then unexpectedly bursts into a loud laugh, making you jump in your seat. “Absolutely NOT. it’s not a part of his assigned duties to be your ‘friend’. You can make those yourself easy once you learn how to clean up that act.”

Embarrassingly, almost like the child he called you to be, you uplift yourself from your seat backrest to meet his evil eyes with your timid ones. “But father-”

“No buts.” He places the back of his hand in front of your face like a flag of victory that makes you retreat back into the seat.

Even though you tried to refrain from being childish before, but you feel no choice to submit to it now. You grab onto his costly tuxedo blazer, throwing yourself and him side to side against the leather cushions.

“Ohhhh Pleaseeee. Please Please please please please please please please please-”

That's enough, child. I cannot believe you are acting in such a foolish manner." Having been yelled at directly in the face by a provoked outburst, you unhand him with a disoriented look on your face. You began to consider a different course of action while looking out of the tinted window. “Mr.Jeong?”

Yunho looks into the mirror, once, twice, and then thrice as he hears the authoritative voice address him. He has a fair idea of what your father is bound to ask. Unbeknownst to all of you, he’s internally contemplating how he should answer accordingly.

“Would you care to accompany us this evening, as my child-the legacy’s, plus one?”

The gears stop its scornful grinding in your head in the making of the underdeveloped plans to change your father's mind. Rather his question implicates a chance to control, yet you avoid showing the excitement from the thought as you hide your grin in the palm of your hand.

In the time it takes Yunho to respond, the nerve-wrecked chauffeur slows at a stop sign. In terms of location, you are all now across the street from an upcoming town featuring plazas and restaurants with an emphasis on quantity over quality. A reasonable assumption you all are close to where you need to be.

In the meantime, Mr.Jeong drives on the road steadily. Suspiciously though, he increasingly watches in the rearview mirror more than needed.

The gloss coating in his brown eyes becomes more apparent as they shift from person to person each time, unsure of the proper landing spot. “If it’s not a bother sir… I’d be honored.”

“Hmm.” That is all that can be heard when immediately following the drivers statement.

“Well then…you’re welcome to join us. Just make sure you park the vehicle in a safe space, and then you can meet us in the food court inside.”

For Yunho it was a difficult time deciding whether to smile or not, so instead he bows lightly with his head and tucks his lips in for a few seconds seconds. “Everything will be done just as you ask sir, and I will join the both of you shortly.”

“Thank you father.” You add while tucking in a bright smile of your own.

He waves you off, sitting back to relax the very last few minutes of travel with a few peeks of any sneaky interaction.

…

As your father was the personnel behind the main event, there was a stroll of people outside waiting for him. Photographers, business partners in other industries, and lower-class civilians who fantasize about your billionaire lives.

This made it difficult for you to maneuver inside at a reasonable time, but your father didn’t mind the extra attention of course.

As a result, Yunho's best interest lies in waiting for a clearing and using that time to find a safe place to park the luxurious Rolls Royce.

Meanwhile, after a good many minutes of the bodyguard growing extremely anxious about the commotion in you and your father’s space, you’ve finally all made your way into the food court. One would have expected another to just sit and eat, and there was that occurring as you came in of course…and a shitload of a billion questions about your father's next business endeavor, as if the current moment wasn’t celebratory enough.

A guest who is currently speaking to your father cut themselves off in something you believe to be rather uninteresting. “Did your legacy finally get married?!” The guestpointst in the adjacent direction, and thus you see your plus one.

Every time a boot hits the ground he leaves a mark in the room with a beautiful smile, the one that makes his cheeks mold into the roundness of an apple, the inside holding balls of light. In a moment you could’ve sworn a twinkle had shined over his eye jewelry. His mullet tail brushes over the soft tan skin of his neck with every step, oh how’d you love to run your hands over it all.

His strides come to a halt as he arrives by your side. However, that is changed when father moves him in between you two, patting him a bit roughly on the back. “Not quite yet, we have a lot to work to do before we get to that point.” He then looks specifically to Yunho laughing in his face. In return, the taller man shares a polite smile with the group, essentially keeping his cool. “Oh, but this is our wonderful Chauffeur, Mr. Jeong Yunho.”

Like clockwork, a shake of hands is conjoined right after another, and in courtesy, Mr.Jeong Yunho even bows afterward. “What a grand pleasure it is to meet you all.” A, “Likewise.” is said among the group…how humbling.

In just a few seconds you were forgotten because your father moved the focus elsewhere. To be specific, Yunho, a someone who has ‘less work to be done’. “Well then”, you awkwardly intercept, “Me and Mr. Jeong Yunho here are going to be conversing with our other guest. Please excuse us.”

Without thinking, you take him by the hand, wandering off into another group to join some other pesky conversation.

As a waiter passes by with a plate of champagne, you grab a glass for yourself and Yunho, chugging your own in seconds with a lack of grace. “Just nod and smile. This is how people usually conversate with my father since he obviously loves boasting about himself. I bet he’ll be so caught up in it that he probably won’t even bother to spare a glance.”

Contrary to thought, one of the most compliant and respectable soldiers to your father’s commands nods swiftly and begins to follow your instructions. In turn, you are so caught off guard by his loyalty that you nearly forget to follow your own instructions.

Yunho enacts his assigned roleplay with a swig of champagne. The bubbles cascade down his throat as he sticks out a pinky decorated in his embellished ring for class.

The arm in which he uses to raise the glass causes his waist-coated vest to crease, then revealing his bare chest underneath. It is growing to be a little sweaty, presumably from nervousness. His chest sinks and rises, causing patches of wetness to form on the white button-up that a nipple begins to peak-

“Alright, I think that’s enough.” In response, Yunho ceases to sip from his glass and inspects the inside with the tips of his large fingers, gravely observing the absence of any carbonated liquid present.

“I believe I’m feeling a little nervous, but the champagne is a great cause for distraction.”

You take in the view of how adorable he was being, observing the glass like it was a golden antique as if he was hoping for more champagne to magically liquify out of thin air.

Yet the lingering in your admiration doesn’t last as a waiter with a charcuterie board and olives in hand breaks your line of vision, offering the samples to the whimsical tall fellow, which he gladly accepts, and wastes no time shoving it full into his mouth.

As they smile wide and depart with a pleased look, your eyes follow them in disgust as you watch them walk into a different room with its entrance engraved into an archway. Behind it are swaying couples and even more champagne glasses in their hands. It encourages you to offer your hand to Yunho, consecutively wiggling it for emphasis. “I think I know where I can get you some more of that champagne big guy.”

“Really?” He speaks with a mouth full of food, in realization, he covers it quickly to keep in any more flying particles. You nod and tilt your head toward the archway. “And maybe we could dance a little, just to fit in?” Perhaps this idea could have sprung from your jealousy…but at least you’ll appear ‘normal’ and preoccupied.

An instant slap sound is made when his much larger hand intertwines your fingers together. The feeling is so soft, warm, and delicate. It’s not a touch you expected a chauffeur to have. He swallows the last bits of food in his mouth and removes his overly attractive hand. “That sounds delightful your legacy, I think that will work perfectly.”

You look down to see the link that has bonded you together in ways you never have before. Even more so you tighten it as you pull him toward the adjacent area where the classical music overrides your eardrums, you both look to your left to see that it is actually a live orchestra. To you though, it wasn’t all too surprising to see the extremities your father had organized.

As you pass by you move toward the champagne that is now stacked in a pyramid on a dress-skirted table, just outside of the dance floor. For a moment it’s a cleared space away from the other couples to give you privacy and peace. Which is perfect for what you want to confess.

“I would really appreciate it if you could just call me Y/n…please. The moment Yunho hears your plea, he pauses his small sippings, swallowing the remaining sweet bubbly liquid.

“A legacy doesn’t have thoughts of moving out of the country to start a new life. It is particularly difficult to do given that everything has been plated on the table for me since birth, including the future generations to take up the family business. As far as I am concerned though, I never had a seat...and I do not intend to stay for the entree…if that makes any sense at all."

You bow your head in awkwardness, but out of your peripheral vision you see Yunho looking deeply at you and then back in the other room in search of your father who's nowhere to be seen. In truth, he is a bit hesitant to speak, but he knows your father is too far out of reach to hear his words.

“My apologies…y/n it is then.”

…

In short, dancing with Yunho felt lively. His large hands encapsulated your waist perfectly with a champagne glass in hand, and yours were on his shoulders before they slowly crept up to the back of his neck. The tips of your fingers ghostly brush against the ends of the strands. Not to mention the eye contact you were now maintaining was severely intimate. The only subsiding factor was the respectable space between your bodies.

“Yunho?”

“Yes? What can I do for you Y/n?”

His adaption to uphold your governor's name was relatively swift; perhaps he was aware that it was making you uncomfortable all along. Plus, just sounds better.

“Don’t tell my father this but, I really hate how he belittles me sometimes, and so… I’ve been sort of using you as a taunt to get back at him. I just wanted to say, I’m truly sorry for causing any trouble.”

The look in his eyes are unreadable, but his hands being still on your waist shows a good sign.

“Not to worry, y/n. ‘twas fairly obvious anyhow. That is, you taunting him but, also him belittling you. I both hear it and see it without uttering a word. So, If anything, I am the one who is due for an apology .”

In denial, you shake your head. Denying that he shouldn’t be sorry, and/or denying the fact that someone had finally acknowledged what you have as a ‘father’.

“It just feels like he’s not even my father sometimes you know…well hell, most of the time.”

“Hmm. Despite shrugging his shoulders, he appears contemplative of letting go of a running thought. “Don’t tell your father I said this either but…it’s probably because he doesn’t want others to perceive you as his child, Y/n. With the presumption you don’t fit the standards…his words.”

Your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek as you scoff and move your eyes to be entertained by the instrumentals of the classical orchestra. Down deep inside you were cowering in fear, hoping that he wouldn’t detect the hurt you’ve been burying for so long. “Well, of course, I’ve already come to that conclusion. But I don’t wanna suck up to him and become like one of these snobs. Like him…”

“Well, lucky for you that has a very simple solution. Just don’t, y/n.” In that same moment, Yunho uses his overpowering strength to cease the swaying you both used to blend in. You became timid, looking deeply into his eyes for the need for separation, yet his hands never slip away, and neither do yours.

“Even if it means losing all your inherited wealth, or being banished from his riches completely, at least you’ll be happy, free of anyone's approval.”

It was the same non-telling expression that displayed on his soft features nearly two weeks ago after he said ‘independence should not always be perceived so negatively.’ It wasn’t until this moment that you realized he had a feeling of how you truly felt. Then, and now.

“Excuse me? Is everything I need to hear and more coming from my father’s honorable and dutiful Chauffeur?”

At this, he scoffs with a dark chuckle and throws his head forward with a sinister grin that is contrary to his usual smile. “I just take the people that pay me where they need to go y/n. Pretty much everything else outside of that has no limits.”

‘I want to explore those limits. What does his life look like outside of driving us everyday, all day?’

“Why’d you do it?”

“Could you specify that question for me please Y/n?”

“You know…just agreeing to be here with me right now, you could’ve respectfully declined. Everyone else does…”

His eyebrows furrow from the process of newly open emotions, but the meaning of what you intended registers nonetheless. “Don’t you wanna learn how to speak properly y/n? Or was that just another taunt for your father in the usage of myself?”

“Oh no! Your hands begin to wander aimlessly from the back of his neck with no control as you frantically speak. “It’s not like that anymore I promise. I-It’s just easier talking to you, and I think that’s what's making my father upset because this isn’t how we typically speak to our…associates.”

Without your acknowledgment, your fabric hands have vile to a still in front of you. From a bystander's perspective, it looked like you were declining a request to dance. However, the sudden contact of a rock-hard chest pressed against your palm read differently. “Oh shit! Erm, I mean-sorry...”

When you attempt to bring your hands down, they are brought back up again on his hard chest. This time, with his hands over yours, he slowly drags them back onto his neck, regaining their placement from before. “So…what’s next dear y/n? You have me here, dancing with you in the open for your father to see…what’s your end goal here?”

The ability for common sense is overridden by touch in the effects of what happened, and what you think to say next shows the side effects. “You said pretty much everything else outside of paid driving has no limits right?”

“As I have previously stated that is correct, yes.”

“In that case then, I want you to be honest with me. Do you… want to have me?”

His hands lose balance at your waist, blinking rapidly as he takes a few steps backwards.

“M’sorry y/n?”

“What do you think about having me without my father speculating on every little thing we do? To talk, joke, and touch as we are now. Maybe..in other ways of dancing?”

The eyes of the young man avert downward, his expression concerned, and there can be no doubt that he is seriously considering your 'subtle' suggestions. His face softens once more, and a grin appears as his eyes return back into yours. The sense of urgency has dissipated from the beating of your head and chest, as you grin along with him.

“I think…we’re gonna have to find a way to make that happen, but when has your father ever left you unattended?”

Your relief leads you to take a few tiny steps forward in a bid to bridge the gap between the two of you. In the spirit of boldness, you drag your hand down to fiddle with a button on his waistcoat. As for a doubled intention, it soothes you to determine a plausible course of action.

“Don’t worry too much. He won’t have anything to worry about if I have you with me. At least, for you anyway.”

A resuming of eye contact follows, and a shaking emotion of sympathy, lust, and infatuation. As a result, you were concerned that the guest might discover the connection that took place, possibly reporting the events to your father out of interest or judgment.

You part from him, trailing behind his body that turns to follow yours as you face back to the central area where your father can be found. In the moment of staying still with dancing bodies, catering, and live music, you managed to make a way out of no way.

You turn back to make eye contact with a stunned six-foot friendly giant who appears to be wanting more. “Follow me cutie, I have an idea.”

In immediate action, your cute little companion follows behind you as if he were a deeply attached puppy eager to perform any instruction you command.

…

In brief, this is how your idea played out:

By using your own initiative, you were able to guide yourself and Yunho to return to the central food court area so that you would be more openly aligned in your father's sight.

Upon seeing you two, he calls you over to have dinner, which initially kickstarts the exact plan you have in mind.

As disgusting as it was, over an accumulated amount of time, in every bite of food you ate, you left some chewed residue in your mouth, plus a wash of champagne created a perfect combination of barf served right onto your plate.

When you abruptly stand from your seat, the splattered mess grabs the attention of those around you. In effect, it ceased all conversation, then followed up by a unified loud gasp with the adlibs of ‘oh dears’ as the table guest watches you with worried eyes.

You have been seated by Yunho who has quickly risen with you to clean any residue on your body that unfortunately hadn’t made it onto the plate.

With his back toward the table and his gorgeous face planted directly in front of yours, you smirk then wink quickly, causing him to cease both his actions and the internal panic when he realizes this was the commotion you purposefully triggered.

Your father who’s sat across from you both isn’t too worried. Rather he appears more upset about the intimate contact you’re both showcasing to his guests.

“Child! Go to the wash rooms, at once!” Both you and Yunho react to the direction of loud sound and respectfully adjusted your bodies with hands by your sides.

“I apologize father. I think I ate too quickly…and perhaps, maybe I drank more than I could handle. My only desire was to honor you and celebrate you, but I do not feel well at the moment."

In frustration he breathes deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head, then flicking you away with the bending of his wrist.

“Mr.Jeong, would you care to give the legacy some assistance? Afterwards, just drop them off at the most high-quality hotel, and come back to join us shortly please.”

“Of course sir. I will make it a priority to be of assistance, and come back quickly for return.”

In embarrassment, your father continues to conceal his sight of you until you leave. A waiter comes in immediately to clean the mess, and it makes you feel terrible in the slightest.

Although you’re sure the ‘messiness’ your were going to venture, would even things out for you surely.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

Upon walking towards the safe spot Yunho secreted your father’s black Rolls Royce, he opens the back door for you in a procedure to which you however slam shut to show your unappreciation.

“There are things that we do with my father, that should not be done without my father. One of the most notable differences is that I will not be seated in the back seat." As you approach the passenger side, he follows your gaze as you open the door. "I call Shotgun!”

Yunho chuckles, then disguises quickly in search of any persons, as he has hidden the car in a secure location in which no one should see you two. He unbuttons his vest which had gotten a little too tight with all the food, drinks, and nervousness he consumed. After further inspecting for a clearing he walks speedily around the car with the uniformed coat in hand to settle awkwardly in the front seat.

Even as he made his way into the car to be seated, the seatbelt strap repetitively formed into a tangle when he tried to secure himself. It was even more awkward when all you could do was stare as his chest squeezed with every pull.

His face read every aspect of embarrassment, yet he persistently tries to fix the belt with endless results of failure. In the coming realization of the uselessness of his efforts, he decides to relieve what’s on his mind as he exhales a deep sigh. “Your legacy- or, my apologies…Y/n?”

You channel out of watching the show of his squeezing the broad breast to acknowledge that his hands are now placed unto his thick thighs, rubbing up and down rapidly onto the top base with accumulating sweat. Your eyes then wander to his puppy dog face which has unexpectedly melted into a childish pout, and that’s when the realization strikes you.

“Let me guess. You’re chickening out of this, aren’t you? I mean- it took me a while to collect that food in my mouth and then ‘fake’ throw it up you know...”

In hearing this he acted as though he was controlled by a switch, exhibiting a variety of expressions, unsure of which to choose. “No! I mean- you just said ‘we’ and ‘without your father’, as if this is going to happen between us often, and I didn’t know if that was your intention or if you just-”

“Only if you want it to Yunho.” Tentatively, you place a hand over his shaky, large, bejeweled one to soothe his nerves. In response, a cute and sad little pout turns into one big goofy smile.

“Listen…soon enough, I plan on getting the fuck out of town to be free of this stupid lifestyle, and without the need for anyone’s approval thanks to you wise sir.” The said wiseman’s smile shrinks in length, he faces you completely, showcasing his full attention and unwavering seriousness as you speak from the heart. “With that being said, I would love to have you to myself even after the time when it is appropriate for me to leave this life behind.”

As you keep your hands over him, Yunho continues to face you. However, you notice that his eyes struggle to maintain eye contact. Your lips, however, did not seem to be too hard of a catch. “That sounds…really nice y/n.”

You take in your bottom lip as if it got shy in hiding from the most angelic gaze. “Cool.” To relieve the initiated awkward intensity, you swiftly remove your hand from his and turn forward to the enclosed scenery, his eyes never moving from you. “I know a detour from that overpriced ass hotel. It’ll make the trip a whole lot longer.”

As a helpful indication as to what you were implying, you turn your head to look at him once more, hoping the knowing expression you were putting on was easy to convey. It didn’t take long for him to notice, and the thought of it made him bat his eyelashes from the explicit mental images.

Shyly, he averts his gaze downward on his lap where his hands are now resting; his ears become the brightest shade of red. ‘How cute’ you thought. “So… you want to take a detour to give us more time to-

“Exactly.”

Simultaneously, upon your immediate response, you both conquer the fear of looking at one another as you match a wide smile. It ‘twas funny how looks could kill the both of you…but a yearning for each others touch excites you both all the more.

…

The tension that was in the air had dropped into your laps, rubbing still between both of your legs. A driving Yunho somehow maintains steady alignment in the lane, and the only giveaway that he feels the way you do is the continuous stares at every slow of traffic, stop sign, or red light.

“If it means anything…unlike your father…I really like the way you think.” You turn to him, unashamed to glance over his towering muscular stature as he focuses on the busy road. “It can be a bit troublesome at times, but, for some peculiar reasoning, it excites me beyond what I should feel.”

You look at him tenderly, heart thumping at a compliment you’ve never heard in your entire life. Heart thumping at the fact you make him feel excited in ways your father prohibits. “Thanks Yunnie, I appreciate that more than you know.”

As you’ve directed him for most of the trip, you have no choice but to turn your highly focused concentration back on as the vehicle makes its way into an intersection. “When this light turns green, you need to make a right here.” You find yourself, for no apparent reason, outrageously grabbing on his biceps with your closest hand while pointing in the said direction.

The contact remains until the light turns green, and you’re forced to let go to enable him to drive properly. The next street approaches as well as your next direction. “Okay, now left.”

Unexpectedly, the black-haired man takes a sharp turn, causing your body to move forward as your hand instinctively grips his thigh for stability.

“My sincerest apologies, I suppose my foot weighed on the gas too hard.”

It’s never happened before…if it did you worst be in the car with this man right now, your father would’ve fired him long ago for a ‘silly mistake’. However, with your level of intuition, you feel as if mistakes happen for a reason.

“No worries, just keep going straight down here…” You rise your upper body back up slowly pulling your hand upward with it to the meatiest part of his thigh with an abrupt stop before his intimate parts. “Now pull into this lakehouse restaurant's parking lot.”

He does so with an anxious demeanor shivering over his body, contrary to the calm ripples of the lake pond with ropes on its borders, in every angle it designs a perfect view. You watch it with grace, symbolically embodying the calmness of the water and the creatures in it living their simplistic lives.

You became so lost in your thoughts that you forgot that your hand was so close to where this man needed you, and to make matters worse, he was so reluctant to speak up for his own benefit. “I don’t recall ever seeing this place before. It’s peaceful, and right now it’s possibly awkward to say… romantic?”It was then you caught onto his hint of neediness, and removed your hand from his lap clumsily in embarrassment.

“Yeah…you got the right idea. I figured it’d be perfect for our special occasion and all.” You laugh off your nervousness as it is now a little too quiet, which also makes Yunho a little wary about his next move.

“Father rarely ever visits this place if that’s what you’re thinking about…” You knew that wasn’t what he was primarily thinking about, but it was a recurring thought in the back of his mind. “As you should know, he’s deadly allergic to shellfish. Plus the restaurant is a little more hidden on the outskirts of town, so it isn't so popular with the common people. Nevertheless, it’s always worth a visit to the lake view."

He nods quietly, a grin slightly uplifting the prints of his cheekbones as a thought walks across his mind. You observe him attentively to gain a better understanding of what he is going to say next. “I think I’m starting to love the way you think. Truly, I’m impressed. You really thought this all out in that ballroom?”

You match his grin, leaning forward as you gain the boldness to grab onto the collar of his white button-up. “That’s right soldier, don’t ever doubt me. Plus, I guarantee you’re gonna love the ways I please you so much better.”

You slowly let go of his collar and make hold your own with one hand. You use your other one to dig behind the material of your tailored satin blazer jumpsuit on your chest.

He gulps as he watches your strip tease act. His bulge behind the curtains becomes evident as it grows in size. You bite your bottom lip as you pull out your hand, revealing a thick wad of cash. “Here. It’s a tip for your courtesy, Mr. Jeong.”

He stares at the stack of cash, shaking his head no like he was in disbelief from what he really wanted to see from you. When you see he isn’t going to take it, you tenaciously bring down the bills between his thighs, stimulating the tip of his erect member and making his hips jerk as his mouth drops further with every movement.

“Dear Jeong Yunho…you truly don’t know how much you’ve changed the entire course of my lonely, miserable, sad life. Please, take this as a thank you.”

His head shakes as he struggles to look down at the action of your stimulation. Yet an evil smile that you don’t recognize awakens his soft features. “Y-you think I want your fucking money darling?” You sense a trembling in your chest as you watch the monster you have awakened swallow thickly, then roll his eyes forward into the depth of your soul.

In response to your slow movements, he roughly grips your hand and places small kisses on the back of it, never leaving eye contact with you. “You shouldn’t cheat yourself, your hole is priceless to me baby.”

Your focus becomes so disoriented from his sudden change of character, that even you nearly forget to play your role, as you are the one that initiated the whole ordeal. “Oh? You submissively pull your hand from his lightly controlled grip, then reach down again unto his lap to take back the bills. Yet as you go for the stack, which there lies still on his erection, he watches you like a cheetah on the prowl, and as his prey, you never stop looking so he doesn’t rip you to shreds. “Who knew you had such a dirty mouth with all that shined and polished vocabulary you speak?”

He smirks, adding to the deviousness of his glare. “Just imagine all the more physical things I can do with it, you would love it, so much better.” He quotes your taunting from earlier, using your own playing card for your little game. “But, perhaps we can save that for another time right?”

You shake your head as you witness your cute little puppy dog transform into a wolf, and you are confused in whether to be frightened, or proud.

“It’s always the quiet ones. Who would’ve thought? I bet this isn’t the only time you’ve fucked your bosses kid outside of driving, Mr. No limit.”

“Actually my darling, you’re the first. Daddy’s little brat who needs to escape bondage from the rich world.” He tongues his cheek in amusement, letting it a huff from your harsh assumption. “But, now that we’re away from all that, with me, you can forget everything but my name.”

With the rushing thoughts of screaming his name while he’s inside you, many words are con-jumbled on the top of your tongue. He smiles devilishly, seeing as to how you’re quickly consumed by the thought. “To the back darling.”

To your surprise, you find yourself obeying as you kick off your shoes, then climbing carefully onto the middle counselor as a bridge way to settle into the back seat. “You really think you’re going to tame me huh? You obviously haven’t paid attention in the last couple of weeks.”

“Y/n my dear, you obviously haven’t had my dick in you yet sweetheart.” Your eyes become blown as you grip the cushions of the seat, and your heart rate begins to accumulate as it beats rhythmically towards your eardrums. Yunho chuckles at your reaction and finishes with an expression of a satisfied smile. “How about you take off that jumpsuit and your underwear to make things easier, if you’re wearing any that is…and make room for me yeah?“

Without any disregard, you follow his commands. It was an odd feeling to be the subordinate here as his duty was to commend service unto you. After he sees you fully undressed, he wastes no time getting rid of his button-up, knee-high boots, and black slacks.

“Hurry and get back here soldier”, you tease. “We’re on limited timing. I don’t want father to create more suspicions than he already annoyingly has.”

“You worry too much rookie, I’m coming.” In immediate action, he climbs toward the back in his black underwear, his dick poking and jumping through the seam.

He hovers over you and takes in the imagery of your naked body, and you rub your fingers over the abs and chest that have grown hard in reaction to your warm and gentle touches.

The sound of a growl can be heard as he squeezes your jaw and collides your lips with his in a heated make-out session mixed with peach-flavored champagne. A final kiss is shared as he bites your bottom lip, gently letting free from his grasp that disconnects a string of saliva. “Bend over, please.”

With the desperation laced in his voice which has gradually become a lot deeper, you assume the position as he makes room for you to do so. He comes from behind you with your back arch like a cat in heat, and you evilly came up with the idea to push up against him to tease his hard-on. He groans and grips both of your hips leaving indents of nail marks, even through the glove.

You found pleasure in it, biting your lips in ecstasy until you felt a hand being removed, followed up by Yunho grabbing the stack of bills in the council. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind. Perhaps this could come in handy.” The wad of cash is tossed into the air and into his hands behind you, where he is possibly weighing it to determine its value.

“What the hell? What’re you talking-“

A loud smack is heard throughout the vehicle as his nail in your asscheek grips into your skin deeper. A duality of pleasure and pain overwhelmed your senses, causing you to moan loudly in the quiet space.

“Where’d you get this from anyway, huh darling?”Your eyes sting and with the current burning of your asscheeks. You try to find time to come up with words that would make sense to effectively reply with. Yet another smack from the bills is what gets the gears operating again. “I asked you a question, darling.”

“I-i-I um deposited it from my bank this morning. It’s my share from the new restaurant and literally all the money my father’s ever given me”, you rush out.

“Oh darling, you poor thing. He rubs onto your sore red flesh to soothe the surface, but the freshness of the burn only makes it hurt worse. “This is only 10% of what me and your father make combined, and that’s saying a lot.” He throws it back in the front as if it were worthless, which to him it probably might’ve been.

You remain silent. But of course down inside you’re pissed at your father, and yet what’s new?

You just wanted to feel loved. It was as if the universe sent Yunho the supersonic signal as he began kissing up your neck, stopping at your earlobes to give them small nibbles. “Oh, what should I do with you, honey. What do you really need huh?”

“Yunnie, please. You waddle your knees backward into the leather seats, finding a way to press into his hard-on that he dodges from your hole. “I just- I need you inside me now, please.”

“Okay, darling. No more teasing okay?” He leans backward, using the hands he once had on you back in their place into your cheeks to spread them apart. “Can you open your legs a bit more father for me?” In eagerness, you obey. “Gorgeous baby, good job. Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m gonna stretch you out a bit with my fingers, Just by the looks of it you’ll have me coming in seconds, but Yunnie wants you for just a bit longer than that.”

You’re wanted.

So, are you ready darling?”

You’re going to feel loved.

“Just fucking do it already, please.”

He spits onto your opening, followed by the sleek material of his gloved finger entering your hole with smooth sailing thanks to the lubricant he provided. Unbelievably so, his finger grows deeper which feels to have no end. In a few more seconds after that, he reached a certain spot that made your body jerk uncontrollably and he halted his intrusion. “F-fuckkk. Right there baby.” you roll your hips, “that feels so fucking amazing.”

His concern is replaced by pride to hear he could make you feel good doing barely anything at all. “Oh, I see. That explains why you’re squeezing around it so tightly baby, but maybe we should add another to get you where I need you.”

“Yes, please do.”

He wiggles about finger inside you making you feel like you have unlimited proximity in the tight space. Just like the first, he glazes upon that sweet spot, making you whine aloud in pure pleasure. “Just one more baby, you can do one more right?”

You blink rapidly in a daze, slightly rolling your hips to gain more of the addictive feeling. “Yes Yunnie, give it to me. Give me more please.”

“Of course my dear. You asked so kindly after all.” Just as requested, another smooth gloved finger dived into your hole, opening you with a wide stretch. He memorizes the exact area that makes you squeal. Massaging it, pinching it, and puncturing stimulation with fingered thrust.

Needless to say, you were feeling very pleased and wanting more as you move your hips further backward where your ass cheek meets his palm. penetrating his fingers in and out as you please. “Must be the desperation kicking in huh baby? You need something bigger and deeper don’t you?”

You look back at him and the way his fingers disappear into your opening. “How many times do you want me to tell you that I want you to fuck me?”

He bites his lip, using the non gloved hand to grip an asscheek and inject his fingers into it at a fast pace like he’s preparing a Thanksgiving turkey. After a few minutes, the rush slows down and stops, leaving you breathless and sobbing with your back arched extensively.

“That will be the last time. There’s just one thing I have to do so I can give you what you want.” Just like with the stack of cash earlier, you hear a rumbling in the front seat as Yunho reaches to grab yet another item. It gave you a lot of food for thought about how creatively he’d used it in your sex craze.

The new uprising of growing need between your legs in excitement causes you to feel impatient. You look over your shoulder to tell him you cannot wait any longer, but a firm hand turns your head back forward. “Keep your head right there baby, Yunnie will give you what you want real soon okay?” You tongue your cheek, letting go out the most tiresome groan, that was, until you choked up on something enclosed on your neck.

You dig your nails into the backseat for stability while you bring up your other hand to get a feel of what was holding you from breathing. You feel that it’s a cloth material, then a knot with two long pieces attached, oh you know it’s a…

“Oh, you kinky mother-“ you say in a hoarse breath, but your speech is cut off when your yank upward, and simultaneously, all of Yunho's girthy cock split you wide open. “…fucker!”

“I am going to fuck you, but I just want to let you know that this is how I planned on taming you. Yes, it’s kinky, but I’m sure you’ll take pleasure in it because contrary to life, I think you liked being controlled, but only during sex, hm?”

Correct.

It was the only time you’ve felt wanted and cared for, and given that’s Yunho knows your background, it wasn’t that shocking for him to connect the dots. You probably have your moments of dominance at times just to feel powerful right?

You pointed to the tie around your neck, as it was getting a little too hard to breathe, limiting your communication. Yunho being attentive as he is, takes notice and loosens it up.

A few coughs are released from your throat, as your chest heaves with large intakes of breath. You turn your head to look into Yunho’s eyes, reaching back to touch his muscular thighs, and underneath his cheeks. “You bet your sweet ass I do.”

He grins in amusement, moving to just a few pecks into your lips. “Hmmm. Who knew daddy’s only child could be such a slut huh? Getting railed in the back seat of his Rolls Royce? You are really naughty.”

You pull your chin back, grinning mischievously as you shrug your shoulders, rubbing your ass in the base of his cock. “What the fuck are you going to do about it?”

Yunho grabs onto the tie once more, letting out quiet ‘tsks’ as his tongue clicks in his mouth. “Oh, darling.” An expected tightening of his tie tightens around your neck once more, but what you didn’t expect is for him to hammer into you, his hips meeting your ass in head-on collisions with no end. The indents from his nail piercing were still bruised, but the pleasure overtook all feeling.

You’re whining sounds hoarse, as overstimulation started to creep in, but your words are incoherent to all ears. “What was that baby? I couldn’t hear the shit talking over your choking. He leans forward with his cherry lips on the shell of your ear. “Or had my cock reached so far to your brain that you can’t even speak?”

He kisses your cheeks and loosens the tie. You nearly fall forward as he never stops pounding into you, but he upholds you by the strength of his large hand on your upper arms. “Fuck me harder, please. Fuck me stupid Yunnie, I don’t care!”

Just as your yelling is ceased he pulls out of your enlarged hole, pulling you down to be seated on his lap facing forward. Once seated your eyes make a connection with his through the rearview mirror as it usually does on any drive. The both of you watch each others jaw-dropping expressions as his cock enters you once more scrumptiously piercing through you with an addicting burn.

“One of the world’s national treasures, this tight fucking hole.” After that was said, he waste no time digging for gold, hammering every ounce of cum he had in him.

“Yes just like that Yunnie! I'm so fucking close" You speak through the mirror, your body bouncing, making it hard to concentrate, but more importantly, it draws his attention even more for you. “Give me all your cum, make me your slut.”

He groans into your ear, ejaculating his semen deep into the darkest depths of you body, that awakens it to the light.

“That might’ve been the hardest I’ve ever came in my life.”

He pulls out from your opening, giving you the chance to slide into the other seat. “No fucking kidding. Lesson learned: Never judge your father’s chauffeur by his professional cover, because he might have good dick.” You both laugh exhaustedly through heaving breaths, watching each other's naked bodies shake like the effect of another orgasm.

After it dies down, silence creeps in once again as it did before this all started. The sounds of ruffled clothes provide a few timeskips until it’s back to reality. “So-”, Yunho begins, “with this whole plan you’ve been test driving…was this supposed to be a part of it?”

You frown, recognizing the puppy dog face under the disheveled black strands before his sex drive took control. “Oh Yunnie, of course not.” You place a hand on his bare thigh, this time for the solution of comfort. “I’ve always wanted you taking me like this, and as for my plans for today… I wouldn’t have imagined to have come to this point.” You lean close to his side and whisper, “Literally.”

Yunho breathes out a light chuckle, and stares at your hand at your thigh intensely, causing you to want to remove it as a result. “Besides the sex jokes. Got any regrets?”

With an immediate shake of ‘no’ on your head you say, “Hell no.” However, when you see Yunho's bland reaction to your response, you become compelled to ask him the same question. “Are you regretting it? There must be something since you asked.”

“No.” He says matter-of-factly. “I’m just… conflicted is all. I’ve always taken a liking to you, and I grew more fond of the personality that grew behind the legacy thing. You’ve always had goals of your own.” As you prepare to thank him for his praise, you notice that he opens his mouth once more. “But then again, my support for you risk the possibility of me losing my job, and then I’d have to choose.”

As your interest peaks in his last choice words in his confession, you turn to him in your seat. “Choose? What choice would you even have to make?”

“Don’t you know? It’s either you…or your father.”

“Yunho… you should never be given that ultimatum, or use it against yourself. If pleasing my father is your priority, then you should pursue that, but I’ll never be the second choice. I’ve lived through that already.”

He's slow to respond when he mends through contemplation, absorbing all of the information that contradicts what he has been manipulated with by your father. You pick up his habit of rubbing his hands over his clothed thighs when he has something to work through in his mind.

Having grown uncomfortable with the sudden change of mood sitting next to him, you grab the door handle to go back and sit in front.”Let’s just get to that hotel and forget all of it, fathers still expecting you…”

Just as you were leaving, you feel a warm chest make contact with your back, and a large ring-dressed hand makes its way in front of you, touching your hand on the door handle.“I know what I want more, but I’m afraid to make the choice.” His deep voice rings in your ear, echoing sound waves down each vertebra of your spine.

In response, you turn with your head down, afraid to look into his eyes as he rejects you. “Then you don’t really want it Yunho, because if you did, you’d do anything in your power to get it, no matter the cost.”

He removed his hand from the door handle, pulling it back in what you did not expect to occur- Yunho grasping the left side of your chin to confront you face to face. “I want you…can I have you, please? In the long run, just like you said?”

Your heart squeezes harder in your chest, fueling more ounces of blood by the second from his sweet confession. The imagery of his messy black mullet, his sparkling eye jewelry, and his wrinkled white shirt contrast with his despair. “So…your choosing me? Just like that?”

He shrugs, looking over the details of your face, smiling as he memorizes every square inch. “I’d say that I need longer to think about it, but my mind is already made up.” His thumb pressed against your chin, uplifting your head to look deport into his eyes. “So yes, I’m choosing you, darling. Can I have you?”

You take advantage of closed distance to exchange peach-flavored lips, sloppily trading tongues and groaning each other's names in between.

It was the best decision you’ve ever made, a chance for freedom, to forge your own path, and to be someone outside of your father's shadow. Jeong Yunho was your window to the world, giving you the courage to take on a journey of your own and find what you truly wanted in life.

“Fuck.” You mutter pressing into Yunho's chest as he makes the kiss deeper with a “Mhmmm.”

But it’s not what you said in means to spoken pleasure, but there was something you both kept forgetting. “No wait-, you push away from his lips with the palm of your hand on his chest, “How am I supposed to explain this? I don’t want you to get fired so soon.”

He chuckles, reaching up to fix the collar of your jumpsuit, grinning at your uneasy expression. “You’re just now thinking about that huh? Don’t worry baby, I’ll do the fancy talking.”

Smiling in relief, you took hold of his collar and pushed him against the seat, crawling into his lap as before, yet facing him with the front of your body. “I would be more than happy to do the dirty talking for you, Mr. Jeong. Would you like to take another 'spin around the block'?”

“You’re gonna give me a ride now baby? Take control?” He bites his lip in anticipation, playing with his tie that was loosely wrapped around your neck, squeezing the bouncy flesh on your thighs.

“That’s right, you say smoothing your hand up his damp white button-up shirt and over his abs, unbuttoning the clasps to undress him yourself this time. “I am my father’s child, control runs naturally in my blood.”

“Well then...” He grins, I’ll be sure to buckle in tight darling.”

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

END

Much love,

Xoxo

PLEASE DO NOT COPY MY ORIGINAL WORKS, reblogs are appreciated and accepted. Stealing and modifying my work or publishing out on other platforms is not.

©️1117feverlessdreams, 2023

#ateez au #kpop smut #yunho smut #delulu #1117feverlessdreams #100 notes #200 notes #m: yunho #ateez yunho #yunho x reader #spotify

258 notes · View notes

littlemissmiller · 3 months

Text

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝐻𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑠

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Pairing: drug dealer!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

Summary: (au) Graduation is here and Coriolanus is ready to just get the day over with. After the ceremony, The Plinth’s hold a lunch party at their house and you being there has Coriolanus’s mind in knots. All he can think about is what’s underneath your dress…

Warning: 21+ (smoking, drug uses/ mentions of drug use) eventually smut, mentions of masturbation (m receiving), semi-public, bathroom foreplay, slight dom!reader jealously, slight obsession, possession, toxic relationship, slight stalking

Word count: 5k

A/N: hi! sorry this second ch took so long. i promise the next one will be here quicker tho. this new ch tho really turns up the heat like 🥵 god coriolanus is such a horny little boy in this one and wants it sooooo bad….so enjoy ❣︎

Series Masterlist | Playlist

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Coriolanus dresses himself for graduation. He buttons his crisp, white dress shirt. It had been neatly and freshly ironed that morning by his grandmother. The smell of eggs and bacon waft into his room and Tigris pops in with a plate.

“Hey cus, oh Coryo…” She starts then notices him now fully dressed in his white button up and slacks. She's holding a plate of breakfast and a cup of coffee, but sets it on his desk and rushes to him. She has the overwhelming urge to hug him, but doesn’t want to mess up his attire. Tigris dusts off the tops of his shoulders and grips him lightly.

“Oh look at you. Does it fit right?”

“Of course. Thanks again, now the sleeves fit perfectly.” He remarks, stretching out his arms to show off her own seamstress work to her.

Having Tigris away in New York these days at fashion school came with its own set of challenges. Which is why when she left for college in his sophomore year, he started dealing drugs. Coriolanus had always been pegged as mature and “wiser beyond his years'” by adults and teachers so aside from Sejanus, he really only had Tigris and her friends as company. And they were always around, until they weren’t and Coriolanus realized how empty he felt with no one to tag along with. Her room would sit empty until the summers, and when she returned she was like Persephone. It makes their grandma happier, more lively too, a trait Coriolanus wishes he could emulate. He wishes to have that effect on people, but it seems to fall flat. Usually people seem cautious and wary about him, like a powder keg ready to explode.

Coriolanus smiles back at his cousin, then looking over his shoulder and into his closet mirror. He admires himself, smiling for a moment then looking back at Tigris

“Thanks Ty,” he sighs , hugging her

“Oh! I have something for you. Consider it a pre-graduation gift” she pulls back, rushing into her room.

She scurry’s back and is carrying a small black box, tied together with a single black satin bow. He unties it, letting the ribbon fall to the floor. He opens the box and inside is a bottle of cologne. It was a square black bottle, a luxury brand that he had seen countless times in department stores at the mall.

He picks it up and immediately takes in the scent. It was musky, but fresh and slightly intoxicating. It was masculine, but still had a tinge of something sweet. He looks up at her in awe. The Snows hadn’t been able to afford much since both Coriolanus’ and Tigris' parents had been out of the picture.

Money was tight, and they had shared two cars between the three of them. Coriolanus would usually drive his late grandfather’s old white F250, which only he seems to be able to navigate, so his grandma and Tigris drove a navy 2008 Corellia. On top of that, Tigris always had a job from the moment she was sixteen and Coriolanus made sure to find ways to make money for his family. He would usually do house work for people in the neighborhood and landscaping in the summer. So to have an item of such luxury in his hands, from his cousin, means the world to him at this moment.

“Thank you. This is…you must have worked so hard for this…”

“It really didn’t put me out too much, especially with my intern this July. I have some connections now.” She smiles

“You’re truly a wonder.” Coriolanus admires

“As are you. I know you’ll continue to make this family proud.”

She hugs him one last time before leaving him alone with her gift in his hands. He smells it again, taking it out of the bottle and spraying his neck, and the inside of his wrists. Maybe you’ll come up to him and notice. Notice how good he smells, and want to talk to him. Touch him. He wonders how you’ll look today. What perfume you’ll choose since, he was aware you had many scents you liked to wear. He loved when you would spray yourself with your mini travel size bottle. It had a musky, vanilla scent, like a caramel. It would spin in his nostrils and make him hard. It made him want to taste you.

He shook himself from his thoughts, palming himself through his pants to relieve some tension. He takes the plate of breakfast from his desk and chews on a piece of bacon. He sits on his bed. He sits his plate down and bends down to pull out a small thick mesh bag. Inside was his lighter, grinder, a glass chillum pipe, a wooden dugout with a one hitter, a few pre rolls, and about an ounce of indica. He takes out some of the weed and the grinder. He places it in the teeth of the grinder, pushes down and turns. The smell of the flower wafts in the air and Coriolanus takes his lighter and leans over to light his bedside candle, an item he frequently restocks for this reason.

Tigris was aware that Coriolanus smoked, but unaware that he sold and his grandmother didn’t know either. Not that he dared smoke in his room without at least opening a window and blowing it out, but he didn’t want to have the scent waft and linger for his grandmother’s sake. He didn’t smoke in the house often, and usually sat outside on the back patio. When all the weed is ground up, he unscrews the bottom on the grinder and shakes it into his dugout. He clears out the one hitter and fills it up for a hit. Once it’s all packed, he puts it away, closing the top and sliding the dugout into his pocket for later. He knew that having to be at a school function for so long would mentally take it out of him, plus what would they do if he gets caught, he’ll already be graduated. Additionally, Sejanus was having a post-graduation lunch for the grade at his house and Coriolanus knew he wouldn’t be able to survive both consecutively with being high.

The nice thing about being friends with Sejanus was he lived in your neighborhood. You and him came from wealthy families, and those were the nicest houses in town, so whenever he would head over to Sejanus’s house he got to pass by your own. Sometimes he’d notice your bedroom light was on, and wondered if you were in your room. Your white Audi Q5 was usually parked outside, but if not, he knew where it and you were. Devon’s house. Which he suspected you would both be at the Plinth’s house after graduation. Even though you didn’t explicitly mention it last night, Coriolanus had a feeling you’d be there since your boyfriend was always cozying up to Mr. Plinth to get a job with his energy company, which the Plinths supply half of the county with. It was pathetic really, given how Sejanus was going to inherit the company when his father retires or dies, and then what. God Devon was such an annoying prick he couldn’t stand it.

Coriolanus finishes the rest of his breakfast. He checks himself one last time in the mirror, then grabs his phone, keys, a lighter, and wallet. He grabs his cap and gown and heads downstairs. He heads into the kitchen, placing his empty breakfast plate in the dishwasher and bidding his grandma and Tigris a goodbye until the ceremony. He had promised Sejanus last week to give him a ride to the ceremony to avoid “a headache from his parents.” Which Coriolanus gleefully accepted. Any excuse to pass by your house.

On his way there he turns up some music, enjoying the morning and glad to be done with high school. Lana del Ray’s song Diet Mountain Dew starts to play as he rolls into the nice, polished neighborhood of Governor’s Way. He draws closer to your house and sees your car still parked outside. He smiles to himself and keeps driving. He makes a left turn at the end of the street and Sejanus’s house sits at the end of a cul-de-sac, slightly off center to the right. He pulls up and sits in his car waiting for Sejanus. From his rear view mirror he can see your house and watches. Maybe you’ll come out. Maybe he’ll catch a glimpse of you. He watches and he sees something he detests. Your boyfriend pulls up, his country music roaring. He turns away and texts:

Here

Coming sorry!

Ma wanted pictures

Of course she did. Coriolanus sighs to himself and checks the time. The ceremony isn’t until 10 am, but seniors were expected to arrive at 9 am to ensure they were accounted for and not late. Sejanus comes out the front door, already in his cap and gown walking into Coriolanus’s truck and smiling.

“Are you nervous?” He asks, as they back out

“No” Coriolanus smirks

“I feel weird. I can’t believe it’s all over. And now we are off to college…”

“Hey man, let's enjoy our break, yeah?”

“I will. Oh Ma wants to take us out shopping for bedding and decor for our dorm. She thinks we should shop together so we can try to make our room look like it all flows…”

Coriolanus rolls his eyes. Of course his mother wants matching bedsheets and decorations for them. Of course she’s thinking about it before her son has even received his diploma. It’s so infuriating, but at least he’ll get a free set of bed sheets. The Plinths were always generous with the Snow family. As he starts to pull by your house he sees you come out and greet your boyfriend. You’re in a white dress, your hair down and slightly curled. Even from here you’re stunning. Like a sweet dollop of whipped cream that Coriolanus wants to lick up.

You see his car go by and smile at him as you hug Devon. Coriolanus smiles and your boyfriend notices your attention has been drawn away from him. He looks behind and Coriolanus speeds up. He scowls at the white truck as it rides by and starts to shuffle you inside. Coriolanus turns up the music in frustration and Sejanus looks at him sympathetically. An old Billie Eilish song, my boy, plays and Coriolanus smirks at how fitting it is for the situation. Concerned, Sejanus turns it down to talk to him.

“Maybe they’ll break up before the summer is over…”

“Yeah and then what? She’s still going to Cali in August. I’m staying here. It’s whatever dude…”

“I’m just saying. I know how much you like her.”

“Ok well she doesn’t like me so it doesn’t matter.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure.” Sejanus suggests

“Why?” Coriolanus asks

“Just something she asked me in Art History…”

“What did she say?”

“Just we were talking and she kinda subtly asked if you and I were staying close to home because of anybody. I said no and she asked about you. Wanted to know if there was some girl she didn’t know about…”

Coriolanus’s heart races. You’re asking his best friend about him. If he’s staying near home for a girl and wanting to know if he’s single or not. Why? Are you interested in him? Are you about to leave your boyfriend for him? He could hardly believe it and almost missed the turn.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything…” Sejanus remarks

“No. Thanks for telling me it’s just…fuck dude don’t get my fucking hopes up…”

“I’m not, just yeah, I thought you’d at least wanna know that…”

The two boys pull into the school, parking in the back. They walk inside, check in, and are instructed to head into the auditorium, where they would wait. The graduation would be taking place in the gymnasium, the only space big enough to host all the guests and 150 seniors. They walk to the auditorium Meanwhile, Coriolanus puts his gown on, but not fully zipped and he holds his cap to the side. They find a seat and Coriolanus pulls out his phone. He pulls up Snapchat and sees you’ve posted on your story. He taps on it. There you are. A cute mirror selfie, showcasing your makeup with a white cursive caption that said:

graduation look

He loved getting to see little glimpses of you like this. Over the last few years he’d gotten accustomed to these types of photos and to an extend the layout of your room. Sometimes it would fuel his imagination of you. He thought about just how precious you’d look spread out on your plush, pink sheets and comforter. About you laying against your fluffy white pillows, holding them in-between your legs as you playfully roll around your bed, showing off for him.

He closes out your story quickly and taps to show the next one and it’s Devon’s. It’s a picture of you and him. His arm around you in front of your house. His caption reads:

Grad time

Coriolanus swipes away and rolls his eyes. He scoffs and Sejanus looks at him, frowning. He wants to say something, but can’t think of anything to tell Coriolanus to make him feel better. Sejanus then looks around nervously and catches you walking in with Devon. He decides not to say anything and whips around quickly, which only draws Coriolanus’s attention in. He turns around and sees you walk towards the front, cap in hand, gown on. Now that you’re closer to him, he can see your tan heels to go with your dress. He likes how they look and desperately wants to tell you. You give him a small wave as you walk in, and before he can return it, your boyfriend comes into the auditorium. Boisterous and obnoxious, he chats it up with some buddies for a moment, then notices your attention toward Coriolanus. He strides toward you, taking your hand and walking you away from him. Coriolanus is left fuming and feeling embarrassed. Fuck Devon. He fucking hates that prick.

As the last of the students file in, the administrators instruct the seniors to line up in alphabetical order, which took less time than expected given it was a common ask for these types of school events. Coriolanus was in the back of the line, with Sejanus a few people ahead. He turns back, giving Coriolanus a nervous smile, eyes beginning to swell with tears. Coriolanus simply nods and the line moves into the gymnasium. Coriolanus doesn’t think of much as entering the gym, he’s just ready to get this over with. As he walks in, pomp and circumstance plays, and he looks around for his grandma and Tigris, spotting them on the left side of the bleachers in the middle. He waves and they wave back. Tigris holds a bouquet of white roses and their grandma is clearly struggling to take pictures on Tigris’s iPhone. He smiles and shakes his head. He turns back to look in front of him, following the line of students to his seat.

The ceremony goes as he expects. Long, cheesy, too many speeches, and most of all, boring. The only thing that captures his attention is you. Being valedictorian, you were asked to give a speech on the importance of academics and the hope for the future. Coriolanus is sure that the school gave you strict guidance on what to say since he knows that if you had spoken from the heart, it would have upstaged these sad high school admin clowns.

After the ceremony, Coriolanus finds his family. Tigris hands him a bouquet of white roses and the three of them take pictures together. Sejanus’s mom also insists on taking pictures of him and Coriolanus together. Coriolanus smiles and poses for as long as he can take it and thankfully the Plinth’s leave to get ready for the post-graduation lunch at their house. Coriolanus tells his grandma and cousin he’ll meet them at lunch and at the last minute Sejanus decides to ride with him back to his house.

“Sorr, just dad was starting to get annoyed with mom so I figured I’d let them work it out”

“It’s cool man.” Coriolanus nods, taking off his cap and gown. Sejanus follows his actions before getting in the truck.

“I’m glad the weather is nice. Ma spent all of yesterday morning on the phone with the catering company. I guess more people are coming last minute than expected.”

“Like who?” Coriolanus inquires

Sejanus rattles off a few names of classmates including you and Devon. Coriolanus hitches his breath and glances at his friend.

“Oh yeah?”

Sejanus nods

“Devon wants to suck up to your dad you know. Trying to get a nice cozy salary job doing nothing all day.”

“Yeah, dad doesn’t like him much anyways…”

Coriolanus scoffs in amusement and rolls his eyes. As they pull into the driveway, they realize they are the first to arrive, beating his parents home. They exit the car and head into the backyard. The Plinths had a pool, in addition to plenty of yard space. The space was currently occupied with tall cocktail tables, white tents, seats and tables for dining and plenty of waiters and waitresses running around looking busy, sweaty and stressed. Coriolanus nods around the side of the house, indicating he wants to smoke. Sejanus didn’t smoke often. He claims he didn’t like feeling “out of control and fuzzy.”

He still would hang around Coriolanus when he did, usually nervously looking over his shoulder. Coriolanus takes out his dugout as they head around the side of the house out of sight. He opens it, fills up his one-hitter and takes out a lighter. He holds the lighter and one-hitter to his lips, lighting and inhaling. Coriolanus was never one to make a full of himself when he wasn’t sober. Sometimes too much weed would make him tired or head feel foggy, but mainly he enjoyed the slightly disorienting feeling, the subtle euphoria that ran through his body, and the weightlessness.

He blows the smoke out, fanning Sejanus’s face and he turns away. Coriolanus lets out a few harsh coughs. He offers Sejanus a hit but he refuses. A few more hits and Coriolanus can feel the euphoria rush through his body. His head feels like it’s floating, mind clear. He cleans out his one-hitter, putting it back in the dugout, and into his pocket. Now he's got a good high, he can finally enjoy this day. The two boys walk back to the pool area, trying to stay out of the staff's way as they continue to scramble around. Soon enough, Senjanus’s parents pull up and Coriolanus asks to make sure he doesn’t smell like weed.

“You’re good” Sejanus reassures

As the lunch starts, more and more people pour in. Coriolanus’s family arrives, greets him and goes to find the Plinths. Coriolanus sticks close to Sejanus as the pair head over to get something to snack on. The main course wasn’t ready, but off to a side table was an extravagant charcuterie board, with a variety of different cheeses, meats, fruits and dips. Sejanus grabs a small plate and loads it with a bit of everything.

“Oh this tzatziki is good!” He remarks, dipping a pita chip into the serving on his plate. Coriolanus takes a few pieces of fruit and cheese, snacking on them. They find a cocktail table and stand around it. One of the waiters comes up and offers them water and they both take one.

“Is this like a substitute for your graduation party?”

“I wish, but she insists on having one. Oh that reminds me, she wanted to know if you wanted to do it with me. Like a double celebration?”

“We can’t afford that.” Coriolanus remarks dryly

“You wouldn’t have to pay for any of it.”

“I’ll think about it.” He murmurs

Then, Coriolanus spots you and Devon arrive and heart skips a beat. You flow in gracefully, so pure and perfect. Coriolanus tries to ignore the fact that you are clutching Devon’s arm and looks away. He turns back to Sejanus, who can’t get enough of the mozzarella wrapped in prosciutto.

“This is good with the pesto!”

Coriolanus excuses himself, taking his water with him. He wants to smoke again, the sight of you sobering him up, but makes him hate the way you look on Devon’s arm. He goes inside, sneaking past people and out through the front door. He looks out on the lineup of cars surrounding the driveway. He glances around to make sure no one is coming, then retrieves his dugout from his pocket. He packs and lights his one hitter again, taking a drink of water so he doesn’t cough so much. He takes one more hit before packing it tightly once again. As he blows the smoke out, he thinks about just how much not being able to see you at school is going to pain him. Maybe he can visit you over breaks and holidays? But how would he even pull that off? He curses himself. Why can’t he just be this emotionless asshole whose attention was captivated by more than just one woman. But it wasn’t. He loves you. He needs you more than anything in this life.

He takes one last hit, then packs his one-hitter away and returns back to lunch. He gets to the kitchen and pauses and stands in the doorway leading outside. He watches the crowd, looking for you. He spots you and Devon talking to the Plinths, Devon of course cozying up to Mr. Plinth as usual. Coriolanus simply rolls his eyes. He watches you from across the lawn, Devon’s arm firmly around your waist. As he leans up against the doorway, he sips his water and watches you as you turn your head in his direction. You notice his eyes on you and wave. He clumsily waves back, nearly choking on his water. Devon also notices and draws your attention back to the conversation with him and the Plinths.

God, Coriolanus wants you. So incredibly bad. And you look so beautiful in that white summer dress. He wishes he could take you around the front of Sejanus’s house, out of sight. He would push you up against the white wood, pull down the front of your dress and reveal your perfect tits to him. He bet they were soft, and could tell by your apparent lack of a bra that they would mold to his hand like you were made for him.

Then suddenly, you excuse yourself and begin to stride over to him. Coriolanus tries to casually straighten up, trying not to be so obvious about his excitement as you approach him.

“Hey!” You smile sweetly

“Well I guess you officially don’t ever need my help in an AP class ever again.”

“You said you’d still be available? Change your mind?”

“Not at all. Just feels nice to be done.” He smiles

“It does. I had to get away from all the talk. Devon is ambitious about trying to work for Mr. Plinth.”

“Plinth’s company would look great on any resumé” he remarks “But Sejanus will eventually own it no matter what”

“Yeah, Devon is…” you sigh, turning to look at him “a bit silly sometimes…so you want to keep taking science classes next year? “

“A few, but I really want to get more into politics and government when I get to college. Major in political science maybe…”

“Really? You find that all interesting?”

“I do. Don’t you?” He asks

“I find it all confusing really. And I guess those big ideas like that are a lot to understand sometimes, especially when people just yell their opinions at each other thinking they are the right one and are stubborn about their beliefs. “

“That’s the fun.” He smirks

From this distance he can finally see how well your body fills out the dress. Coriolanus tries to keep his eyes on his own. He can’t help that your breasts are so perky and round, that the material of your dress hugs your stomach just enough to barely show him the outline of your belly button.

“Did you check out the charcuterie board? It has some good things to snack on.”

“I got some fruit, yeah.” He remarks

“That’s all?” You chuckle

“And some cheese.” He smiles back

“Well if it's as good as what they are serving then I’m excited. It kinda makes me want to have a board for me and Devon’s graduation party. But if people are only interested in the fruit and cheese then I’m not sure” you tease

“You should. People like that stuff.”

“I guess so.” Then you pause and look at him curiously. “Umm…you smell nice by the way…”

“Thanks. My cousin got me a new fancy cologne for graduation.”

“She knows her stuff.”

“I guess that’s what being a big time New Yorker does to a person. She’s in fashion school.”

Fuck, you noticed his new cologne, just as he hoped for. He wonders if it makes you turn on. Does it make you wet? The new smell of him, so masculine and bold. He wonders.

Before you can remark on how cool and interesting Tigris is, your boyfriend comes marching over, a stern, stone cold expression on his face.

“Hey, they are starting to serve food. Let’s get in line before it’s too long.” He states, grabbing your wrist and pulling you away. You give Coriolanus a somber look before turning away with Devon. He whispers something in your ear and you look as if you’re trying to plea with him to not make a scene. Coriolanus rolls his eyes and walks over to Sejanus.

“Wanna get in line?” Sejanus asks

The lunch turns out to be exceptionally delicious. The buffet was full of summer foods too. A watermelon, feta salad, and an arugula based salad as starters. Then the main course includes a choice between “off-the-stick” chicken or steak kabob, with onions and peppers. For the sides, grilled corn, grilled zucchini with goat cheese and honey, with cut and seasoned cherry tomatoes. Coriolanus tried not to look greedy when filling up his plate, but he was hungry and didn’t get a chance to have such nice food. He put his pride aside and filled his plate up. Him and Sejanus find a seat with Coriolanus’s family and soon the Plinths join them.

The whole rest of the afternoon Coriolanus is enchanted by your compliment. It practically haunts him. It’s the only sound in his head at the moment, the sound of your sweet voice. He imagines other things you could say to him in that same pleasant voice.

“Mhmm you smell so good Coriolanus. So sexy. Why don’t we take this inside” he imagines you whispering to him, taking his hand and leading him away, inside the Plinth’s house. He thinks about you taking him into their guest bathroom, pushing him up against the white marble sink and unbuckling his belt. He was desperate to feel your soft touch, your small hands pushing on his hips, forcing him to take what you give him. Coriolanus would feel overwhelmed, as if the wind and life had been knocked out of him as you slowly touched his chest and pelvis. He would love it if you ripped his pants down, along with his boxers, exposing yourself to him while gently caressing his face.

“You’re such a smart boy Coriolanus Snow…so smart…” you’d whisper, kissing his neck slowly. “So handsome…”

He’d whimper and whine, softly as to not draw attention to any other guests. You’d take him in your small hands, taking his large length and stroking him. You’d stare directly into his pupils the entire time, whisper how big he was, how bad you want to taste it and have it inside you. You’d jerk him off until he came, quickly getting down on your knees to swallow as to leave no mess on the polished, porcelain tiles…

“Man Ma chose a good catering company this time. Much better than the one we used for New Years!” Sejanus speaks up, breaking Coriolanus’s vision of you.

He looks up and nods and he takes another bite of chicken. He tries to hide his discontent, not only at his friend for interrupting his thoughts, but also the way Sejanus talks about his lifestyle. As if it was normal to hire catering and throw a party for every holiday or important life event. It was something the Plints became known for in addition to their electrical empire. Especially Mrs. Plinth, who usually threw an end of the year pool party but felt as if a lunch was more fitting to “watch our children start the journey as adults.” Frankly, Coriolanus missed the pool party. Not only because it would give him an opportunity to look at you in a bikini, but he hated formal events.

He glances up and watches you take a seat next to Devon. He sighs and eats some more chicken, trying to savor the peppers and onions. Thankfully he was able to hide his slow growing erection under the table and as he finished his food, it died down. Still, he couldn’t help but feel slightly shameful. You had no idea though. No idea what the thought of you does to him. He knows there’s only one way to truly conquer his emotions, but knows that as long as Devon was around, it was a hopeless pursuit.

꧁🝮❤︎︎🝮꧂

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robin-hood-for-freedom · 3 months

Text

One thing Karl Marx was kind of right about was the idea of 'conspicuous consumption' but it also, quite ironically disproves a fundamental portion of his theories:

Its true that some goods, mostly luxury goods, are purchased not so much for their utility per se, but as a status symbol. That is to say, you dont buy a lamborghini because its THAT much better than other, cheaper makes of cars. You buy one so you can tell other people 'I drive a lamborghini and have a shit-ton of money'

Marx would have you believe this is the product of modern capitalism, but its really not. In pretty much every society, the elites engage in extravagant wasteful spending as a display of wealth and power: Roman Senators would throw lavish feasts where they'd serve things like sparrow tongue pie and crush up pearls to dissolve in their wine. Egyptian pharaohs built pyramid tombs in part as way to show off 'I have so much wealth and power, I can build this MASSIVE structure I wont even use till I'm dead.'

But perhaps more importantly, it shows that the labor theory of value his economics was built on is all wrong. To go back to the lamborghinis, they arent that expensive because of the raw materials that make them up, or even because of the labor workers put into them. They cost that much because of the perceived status that owning one grants people who buy them. That is to say the value they have is largely subjective.

If lamborghinis were common enough that everybody could own one, or if for some reason people stopped seeing fancy sports cars as a mark of status, their price would drop considerably. We can actually see this happening with certain goods. I'm old enough to remember that in the 90s if you owned a large tv, especially a flat screen, it meant you were 'rich.' People would brag about both the size of their tvs and how much they cost(which could go upwards of $2000 in 90's dollars) Nowadays tvs are dirt cheap, and nobody really brags about having a 60 in anymore, because, well pretty much everyone does, it doesnt make you special.

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hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf · 4 months

Text

Pose

artist!hyunjin x model!minho

Trigger warnings: n/a

Content warnings: dirty talk, hand job, anal, mild exhibitionism, a touch of overstimulation, excessive use of the name 'baby'

Summary: hyunjin can't keep his hands to himself when his model gets worked up

Word count: 5.2k

A/N: hiiii all ❤ i'll keep this short lmao. i'm slowly but surely working my way through my requests! things feel a bit easier these days so i feel like i can actually get things completed for you all. i hope you all like it!

Tags: @bahng-chrizz

Smut below the cut

Minho bit his lip pensively as he approached the studio door. Was he really about to do this? He knocked before he could talk himself out of it. Damned nerves always got to him.

The door swung open to reveal a tall, slender man with sharp features and luxurious dark hair. He was so pretty he sent all the air rushing out of Minho's lungs. “Minho, hi! It’s so good to finally meet you. Come on in. We’re just setting up.” Pouty lips tugged into a bright smile and Minho's knees turned to jelly for a moment as his heart thumped wildly in his chest.

He stepped inside with a small smile of his own and took in the setup as the beautiful man continued. “My assistant - well, you know Felix - already has everything together for hair and makeup. Once you finish up there, come back in here and we can start.” Minho nodded and took a steadying breath as the taller man led him to a room with a vanity, the desk covered in hair and makeup products, some of which he was familiar with, while others were entirely foreign.

Minho had been modeling for local artists for a couple years now but it never got easier. He always felt a rush of nerves every time he prepared to step in front of a camera or sit for a painting. It certainly didn’t help that Hyunjin was the most gorgeous man he’d ever laid eyes on and he was about to get extremely familiar with the older man.

“Oh, your complexion is just perfect - as always.” Felix said. “Come, let’s get you camera-ready.” He flashed an eager smile and Minho felt instantly at ease. Felix was someone he’d met several times and was rather comfortable with. They ran in the same circles and when the younger man had learned of Minho’s side job, he instantly brought up Hyunjin’s desperation for a model for an upcoming project. He’d connected the two men and today was the first time they were meeting in person.

“Are you okay? You seem kinda anxious.” Felix grabbed the rounded flat iron.

“Yeah I'm fine.” Minho hummed, trying to seem nonchalant. “I always get nervous before these things.”

“Why? You’re gorgeous. You were made for this.” Felix smiled warmly as he began to curl a strand of Minho's hair. The older man rolled his eyes even as a flattered smile spread across his face.

“I know I’m hot, Lix. It’s the expectations that get me worked up.” And this photographer’s face… “I’ll be fine once we get started and I know what he’s going for.”

“I told you: he’s looking for someone to let him paint them for a new exhibit piece. It’s simple.” Felix reminded him as he curled another strand.

“Yes,” he rolled his eyes once more, his smile growing wider at the playful exasperation he felt. Felix always got that reaction out of him. “But once I know the vibe of the shoot, it’ll go smoothly.”

“Well…” Felix bit his lip as he ran his fingers through the curls he’d already finished. Halfway there. “I guess I should warn you…he’s the sensual type. He’s walking sex and it shows in his work.”

“I have eyes, Lix. I can tell that much.” Minho snorted. After a beat, during which he looked around the room to ensure they weren’t being watched from the hall, he spoke again. “He’s hot. I wouldn’t mind things getting…heated.”

“He is. And he’s a-” Felix cut himself short, pink dusting his cheeks as he cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t say that.”

“Well now you have to tell me.” Minho grinned, taking note of how flustered the younger man appeared. “Have you two fucked?” The reddening of Felix's cheeks was his answer and his smirk grew even as something twisted in his chest. “Was he good?”

After a few moments of silence, Felix finally answered. “He’s a fucking beast in bed.” He admitted, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You should absolutely find out for yourself.”

“Maybe I will.” Minho hummed, his voice light and airy despite the heat that settled low in his belly.

The rest of Felix’s prep work went quickly, the two of them gossiping about much lighter topics as the younger man worked to enhance Minho’s natural beauty. It didn’t take much.

Within minutes, Minho was seating himself in front of Hyunjin, who already had several small cans of paint open. “And you’re sure you’re not allergic to anything?” He asked cautiously. He’d hate himself forever if he sent anyone to the hospital for the sake of his art, especially someone so perfect.

“Positive.” Minho hummed, shivering as the slight chill in the room caressed his bare chest. His jeans were slung low on his hips and he was shirtless, though he was certain he’d need to remove more clothing before they got started. “So I’m all yours to do with as you please.”

“Don’t tell me that. I might just have too much fun.” Hyunjin winked as he grabbed the first can of paint. “Is there any way I can get you to fully undress? This is going to get messy. Plus,” his grin was seductive and made Minho’s knees weak. “Nude art is always more fun.”

Minho paused and looked at Felix, who gave an eager nod and a thumbs up. “It’ll still be tasteful and not full on porn, right?” He asked, a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice again. His chat with Felix had relaxed him a lot but the prospect of being entirely nude and having the image of his whole body captured for eternity made that calm dissipate. He wasn’t fond of the idea of having his dick on display for the whole world. Personal videos and photos? Sure. But something that would be heavily publicized? That was a step too far.

“Oh god no- I would never ask anyone to pose in entirely provocative ways. This is purely for the art. The most important parts will be covered, I promise.” Hyunjin rushed to assure him with a nervous smile of his own. He kept those photos and videos on a separate camera. This was purely for the aesthetic. Minho was built like a god and his physique deserved to be displayed.

With the reassurance that this was entirely professional, Minho stood from the stool he’d been perched on and reached for the button of his jeans. He ignored the weight of both men’s gazes on him as he shucked both his pants and his briefs. Thank god I took the time to shave last night…

Felix found himself staring and chewing on his lip at the sight of Minho’s impressive body but ignored the racy thoughts he was having. Instead, he took the clothes Minho had just removed and placed them aside, allowing Hyunjin to get started. Hyunjin, on the other hand, didn’t hide his admiration and made a small noise of appreciation as he dipped the brush into the paint.

“This is gonna be a little cold.” He warned before gliding the brush over Minho’s collarbone. The eldest sucked in a gasp at how chilly the paint was but forced himself to hold still. “I’m gonna come back and use my hands once I get the lines down, if that’s okay?”

“That’s fine.” Minho nodded, glancing down as Hyunjin dragged the brush in a straight line down the right side of his chest. “It’ll be warmer then.” He chuckled as he watched the lines of blue, then red, then pink and purple and green appear on his torso, followed by curved lines on his arms and legs. The feather-light touches were driving him up the wall but he did his best to remain composed.

That composure was lost when Hyunjin’s slender hands met his skin, smearing paint down his abs and muddying the pristine lines that had been left only moments prior. His breath hitched at the gentle touch, the slide of the younger man’s hands on his body lighting a fire beneath his skin. His face heated as his blood rushed south, causing Hyunjin’s hands to still. “Sorry…” He mumbled, embarrassed by the way his body reacted to something so small.

“It’s a natural reaction.” Hyunjin murmured, entirely distracted by just how perfect Minho’s body was. Every last inch of him was a gift from the heavens and he felt lucky to be feeling him up. “I’ll be quick.” He assured him, trying and failing to tear his eyes away from Minho’s stiffening cock, which strained with interest each time Hyunjin’s palms glided over a particularly sensitive area.

Felix watched with interest but his excitement at the scene was tamped out almost instantly with guilt. He shouldn’t have been fantasizing about what could happen between two of his best friends. It was his morbid sense of curiosity.

In an uncharacteristic burst of confidence, Minho scoffed and shook his head. “You’re learning all my tells before I get the chance to discover any of yours. How unfair.”

Hyunjin’s hands paused, his eyes locked on Minho’s messy chest as the air between them crackled with electricity. “Felix is watching.” His simple reminder brought Minho back to earth but didn’t ease the tension between them as his fingertips skimmed over the older man’s inner thighs. He took pride in the way Minho’s cock jumped, his own pants growing tight at the sight.

He didn’t bother to hide his excitement as he stood and backed away. “I think that’s about it. Let me add just a little more to your back and we’re good to go.”

“Can I see before we start?” Minho asked curiously. Was it a surprise?

“Of course.” Hyunjin smiled widely at the interest Minho was showing. “There’s a mirror just around the corner.” He gestured to a wall Minho had yet to pass by and the older man nodded, waiting patiently as warm hands danced across his back. One finger slid down his spine and he shuddered. Then Hyunjin was backing away, messy hands held up so as not to spread paint on his clothes. “Let me know what you think.”

Minho padded to the mirror, not bothering to hide his erection since they were all very aware of it by now. When he turned and looked over his shoulder, he let out a soft laugh. “I think you missed a spot.” He pointed out, taking in the lack of paint on his bare ass. There were a few strokes that dipped to the tops of his cheeks but other than that his ass was entirely devoid of color.

Hyunjin stepped around the corner and laughed immediately. “Looks like it.” He snorted and stepped closer, lifting his hands for emphasis. “May I?”

As soon as Minho nodded, Hyunjin’s large hands splayed across his ass, dragging the paint around in a sweeping motion as he fought the urge to knead his flesh. He admired his work as he stepped back, speaking again to break the tension he felt. “Turn for me.” He ordered in a gentle tone, checking to see if he’d missed anywhere else. “See anything else?”

“Maybe…here?” Minho gently grabbed Hyunjin’s wrist and guided his hand to his jaw. “And then drag down my throat?” The aesthetic of fingerprints on his jaw made his brain buzz in the most delightful way and he knew it’d look hot on camera.

“Perfect.” Hyunjin whispered as his grip tightened briefly before his fingers slid to wrap around Minho’s throat. Fuck I want to keep touching him, especially when his cock twitches like that…

“Then…are we ready?” Minho’s voice came out breathless and he suddenly hated how worked up he was. Sure it was a natural reaction like Hyunjin said, but it was bordering on humiliating being the only one naked and this turned on.

“We are. I’ll let Felix get you situated while I wash up.” He held his hands up once more and wiggled his fingers, wrinkling his nose adorably at the mess.

Felix, upon hearing his name, stepped around the corner with a curious expression. At the smiles he received, he led Hyunjin to the white canvas backdrop. “We’ll have you turn slightly to your left and sit down with your knees drawn up.” He instructed and Minho sat as he was told. “Perfect. When he comes back, I’ll get you to stretch your arms out in front of you and rest them on your knees.” Minho nodded and waited, biting back a grin at Felix's knowing expression. “Until then…isn’t his touch just…” His eyes rolled back and he let out a soft groan. “Perfect?”

“It’s actually embarrassing how hard I am.” Minho huffed out a laugh and looked away as his cheeks went a soft pink. “Is he always like that?”

“Pretty much.” The youngest shrugged, laughing at Minho’s pleasantly surprised expression. “Like I said: he’s a very sensual person and the tension is insane.” A mischievous grin took over his face and he wiggled his eyebrows. “Maybe you’ll get a chance to find out just how sensual he can be.”

“Not as long as you’re here.” Minho laughed awkwardly. “There’s only so much I’ll do for an audience.”

“Aww you’re no fun.” Felix’s fake pout earned an eye roll and he burst into laughter, instantly settling down when Hyunjin rejoined them.

“I’m gonna do a few test shots and then we’ll get into it. Can you drape your arms like he showed you? And lay your head down, eyes on me.” Hyunjin hummed, snapping a few shots and taking a deep breath at how perfect even the tests came out.

Luckily for Minho, he started to calm down and no longer felt like he was seconds away from falling apart. Halfway through the shoot, Felix got a call and stepped out. With shutter clicks the only sound filling the air between them, Hyunjin spoke after a few awkward minutes. “How long have you been modeling?”

“About two years now.” Minho hummed, shifting his pose at the younger man’s instruction.

“And how often do you do nude work?” Something in him twisted with a touch of jealousy at the idea of anyone else seeing Minho’s perfect body.

“This would be the first time being fully nude in front of a camera.” He explained with a hint of shyness in his voice. “I’ve posed in underwear before but never fully naked.” Hyunjin gave a pleased hum but kept his expression neutral. “How about you? How long have you been a photographer?”

“Oh it’s been years since I started. I only recently started gallery work though. I was doing events until about a year ago.” His eyes sparkled as he spoke and Minho’s heart thumped in his chest. He loved when people talked about their passions. He loved seeing the way their eyes lit up.

“What was that like?” He watched as Hyunjin pulled the stool over and perched on the edge when he was told to.

“It was fun! It was a lot of fun.” God his smile…

“What made you shift your focus to gallery work then?” Now he was curious. Hyunjin glowed when talking about events so why would he stop doing them?

“I just felt like it was time for a change. It was fun but it came with a lot of stress and I needed a break from that.” He explained softly, smiling again as he stepped behind the camera. “But I’ve met so many wonderful people through this avenue as well. Beautiful people too.” The way his eyes raked over Minho’s bare form as he pressed his tongue into his cheek was entirely deliberate.

The older man flushed even as he tipped his head back under Hyunjin’s instruction. The gaze was so intense it felt like a caress against his skin and he felt himself getting worked up again. He moved so his arm covered his lap and Hyunjin took notice, smirking when he realized his compliment and subsequent ogling had the desired effect.

“I think I’ve got everything I need for now.” He hummed after several minutes of comfortable silence, striding over to where his personal camera was packed away in a bag. Minho felt a bubble of disappointment in his chest at the sudden change in Hyunjin’s demeanor.

“Would you like a more…personal session now?” He turned, lifting his camera from the bag. “For our eyes only.”

Minho’s breath caught in his throat at the way Hyunjin looked at him and he nodded before he even knew what he was agreeing to. Why did he suddenly feel like he’d made a deal with the devil?

“Perfect.” Hyunjin didn’t know if he was referring to Minho’s agreement or the man himself as he made his way back to the tripod. “Then…” he busied himself with changing out his equipment before speaking again. “Turn to your right.” He ordered, his pants tightening once more as Minho’s dick came into view. He bit his lip to hide his smile when the older man tried to cover himself. “Don’t hide. These photos are for you and no one else.”

Minho nodded slowly and forced himself to relax, trusting that Hyunjin wouldn’t lie about this. This was a bit out of his comfort zone but he was willing to try anything once.

“Touch yourself for me, Min.” Hyunjin’s voice came out rough this time as his own cock strained with interest at the mere thought of Minho pleasing himself.

Minho wrapped a shaky hand around his shaft and his lip caught between his teeth at the first tug. His heart hammered in his chest at the pleased noise he heard from behind the camera and he gave another pass, swiping his thumb over the head with a small gasp. He’d been with plenty of people but he’d never been so affected by simply being watched.

He didn’t notice Hyunjin disrobing as he set a steady pace until a warm chest met his back. “Fucking perfect, baby. I can’t help myself, I need to feel you.” Minho took whatever Hyunjin was trying to press into his palm, shivering when his other hand was pushed away from his dick for Hyunjin’s hand to take its place instead. “Press this button,” he guided Minho's thumb to the correct button on the remote. “When you wanna capture something. I’m gonna take care of you.”

Minho didn’t even get a chance to nod before Hyunjin started stroking his cock, his opposite hand roaming his chest and abs. Fire lit under his skin at the contact and his head tipped back to rest on the taller man’s shoulder, his free hand tangling in Hyunjin’s long, dark hair. “Hyunjin-” he gasped his name when his thumb dug into the slit, his hips jerking.

“Jinnie.” He corrected. He liked hearing the nickname in bed. It sounded pretty when people whimpered for him. “Just Jinnie.” His voice was smooth, like liquid butter, and it made Minho’s pulse ratchet up as he nodded.

His jaw dropped when Hyunjin squeezed on the upstroke and he snapped a photo as a tiny whimper slipped from his mouth. “Jinnie-” he whined softly, squirming against the younger man’s chest when his nipple was lightly pinched.

Minho had never been too particular about whether he topped or bottomed so the way his body was being manipulated wasn’t foreign, it was delightful. In fact, it was already shaping up to be the best he’d ever had and they’d only just started. This was solidified when Hyunjin spoke.

“You sound so pretty, Min. Like you were made to moan my name. You sure you didn’t come here just to fuck me?” Hyunjin’s groan made his dick twitch and he whined again, partially from embarrassment at his obvious reaction. “You respond so well, baby. So pretty and perfect. Can’t wait for you to take my cock.”

“Jinnie…” Minho whimpered his name, jaw dropping once more when he felt lips close around his earlobe. “Oh-”

“You sensitive there, baby?” The older man nodded shyly and Hyunjin chuckled against his skin. “How cute.” He cooed as he sped up, his grip tightening just enough for Minho to see stars.

They stayed like that, Hyunjin stroking Minho’s cock and feeling him up with his other hand while Minho snapped photos every time Hyunjin pulled a particularly strong reaction out of him, until the coil in Minho's belly tightened. “Jinnie ‘m close-” he warned, his voice breaking off in a moan as his hips jerked.

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess of the art I made earlier?” Minho nodded furiously, a soft whine tearing from his throat. The goading and cooing always got to him and Hyunjin was a master at it. “Then do it. Cum for me, baby.” He coached, swiping his thumb over the head on every upstroke until he felt the beginnings of Minho’s orgasm.

Minho repeatedly hit the button, snapping a series of photos as he came undone. Molten pleasure filled his veins and he let out a loud cry of Hyunjin’s name as he shuddered with delight. His voice was pathetic and didn’t remotely sound like him as he bit back a series of soft moans and whines, watching helplessly while Hyunjin milked every last drop of cum from him.

Minho forced himself to release his hold on Hyunjin’s hair and instead reached behind him to palm at the bulge pressing against his lower back. He pouted when his hand was pushed away, the need to feel more of the younger man becoming overwhelming. “Why?”

“Lay down.” Hyunjin ordered softly, releasing him and stepping back to give him room to comply. As Minho scrambled to lay on the floor, Hyunjin hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers and shoved them down his thighs. “Gonna fuck this pretty hole and make you scream for me. You want that?”

“So bad.” He nodded, eagerly accepting the two fingers Hyunjin pressed to his lips as he slotted himself between Minho's legs.

The younger man leaned down so his lips were right by Minho’s ear and opened his mouth to speak when a hand wrapped around his cock, pulling a low groan from him. “Shit, baby…” He pressed a tiny kiss to Minho's cheek in return before continuing, rocking his hips in time with the older man’s strokes. “You’re so eager. And fucking gorgeous. My fingerprints all over your body…I wish I could tattoo them on you so you’d never forget my touch.”

Oh, I won’t…

Minho let out a tiny moan in response, suppressing a gag when Hyunjin’s fingers pressed to the back of his throat. His grip tightened and his strokes sped up as he tried to finish Hyunjin before he got a chance to touch him. He wanted things to be entirely even. It was only fair.

All too soon, Hyunjin was pulling back and gently pushing Minho’s hand away.

“As much as I’m enjoying this, I need more.” The taller man hummed, pulling his fingers from Minho's mouth.

“Please-” He whined when he felt Hyunjin press a finger to his entrance. “I need you.” He fought the urge to pout when he wasn’t immediately stuffed full.

“Yeah? How bad?” The smirk on Hyunjin’s face made Minho’s stomach fill with butterflies.

Is he going to make me beg? Oh, who cares. He’s fucking beautiful. Minho needed him. Needed more. He’d do anything to have him inside. “So bad, Jinnie. Feel like I'll die if I don’t have you inside me soon.” He was barely done speaking when a long finger pressed inside.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight. Gonna take me so well…” Hyunjin’s groan reignited the flames beneath Minho’s skin but he barely had a chance to comprehend his words before soft, pouty lips met his own. He reached between them once more, set on pleasing Hyunjin while he was being stretched, but his wrist was caught and pinned above his head.

His dick twitched at the sensation of being restrained and he let out a small sound, grinding down against Hyunjin’s fingers as another was added. The taller man’s tongue plundered his mouth the second he parted his lips and Minho made another sound as he sucked on Hyunjin’s tongue, earning a low growl in return.

Minho was quick to press the button again, capturing the moment in high definition. Hyunjin heard the click of the shutter and pulled back with a groan. “You’re killing me…” His lips tugged into a smirk. “Think you’re ready? I need to feel you.”

“So fucking ready, Jinnie.” Minho nodded eagerly, disappointment bubbling in his chest when Hyunjin pulled his hand away after scissoring his fingers one last time. He tamped it down when he felt the blunt head of the younger man’s cock pressing against his entrance.

“Last chance. You sure?”

“Just fuck me already, Hyunjin.” He demanded, the last syllable pitching upward in an embarrassing moan as he was filled in one swift move. It almost hurt how quickly Hyunjin pushed into him but that made him love it even more.

“Fucking hell- you’re so tight.” The taller man bit his pillowy bottom lip, his face dropping to Minho’s neck. He inhaled deeply, head spinning at his spicy vanilla scent. This must be what Heaven smells like… He held still, waiting for Minho to relax against him. The second he did, he’d rail him.

The sheer size of him almost made it difficult for Minho to adjust but after a few minutes, he tentatively rocked his hips, earning a hiss from the other man. As he turned his head in the hopes of kissing Hyunjin’s ear, a sharp thrust knocked a loud moan from him. “Jinnie-”

Hyunjin set an unforgiving pace, his hips snapping furiously. Each thrust drew out another sound from the gorgeous man beneath him and he was certain he’d become addicted to Minho’s noises if they continued like this. He pulled back to look down at him and bit his lip hard at the visual of his fingerprints on Minho’s jaw. His hands itched to wrap around the older man’s throat but he refrained.

“You look so fucking pretty, baby…” He praised, watching as Minho’s jaw went slack and his head tipped back. He couldn’t help but pinch a paint-covered nipple, his dick throbbing at the whimper his actions elicited. “Sound pretty too.”

Minho’s cheeks flamed at the compliments and he had to fight the urge to hide his face in Hyunjin’s neck. Instead, he snapped another photo. The sound of the camera was the last straw for Hyunjin and he let out a soft growl as he tangled a fist in Minho's hair. “You’re driving me fucking crazy, Min.”

Instantly, Minho was scrambling to tug Hyunjin’s free hand towards his throat. “Please.” He whispered before sucking in a gasp as Hyunjin hit his most sensitive point. “Please-” He begged louder this time, frantically trying to wrap Hyunjin’s fingers around his throat.

“Filthy boy…” A dark smile took over Hyunjin’s face as he closed his hand around Minho’s throat, hips working faster, if that was possible. As soon as the younger man’s grip tightened, Minho shuddered in delight and snapped another photo.

“Kiss me.” He whispered, whimpering loudly a moment later at the rough thrust that hit his prostate deliciously. Hyunjin obliged with no hesitation, squeezing Minho’s throat harder and making his head spin at the lack of blood circulation. It was perfect.

Hyunjin’s teeth grazed Minho’s lip before he bit down and tugged back, groaning when the older man clenched around him. He was getting close and that almost did him in. He pulled back briefly to warn Minho. “Careful, baby. You don’t want to finish me just yet.”

Oh but he did. Minho was teetering right on the edge already and he wanted to be filled to the brim with cum. He needed it. “Jinnie ‘m close-” he warned breathlessly.

“Already? How cute.” Minho whined at his mocking tone, groaning when they locked lips again. He wouldn’t ask permission to cum but he’d still wanted some sort of acknowledgement beyond taunting.

Minho felt the knot in the pit of his belly begin to unravel and laid on the remote, snapping as many photos as he could. His moans pitched upward and his eyes rolled back as he came undone, his back arching off the floor as the full force of his orgasm hit him.

Even as he came down from his high, Hyunjin didn’t give him a break. He pulled out and took their cocks in one hand, stroking them together. The overstimulation was almost painful for the older man as a third orgasm was ripped from his body.

When Minho was a boneless puddle on the floor, Hyunjin finally relented. “One more, baby. Can you do that for me? Can you gimme one more?”

“J- ah- just one-” Minho bit his lip hard as tears built behind his eyes. He could feel another orgasm coming and he wasn’t sure if he could handle it. He needed a break from the onslaught of pleasure. But he also wanted to please Hyunjin and that desire had won out, all other needs washed away by the sweat that dropped onto his skin from the younger man’s chin.

“Good boy.” Hyunjin’s voice came out strained as his orgasm approached. He’d been holding back for a while now, wanting to play with Minho a while longer. But when he saw his face going red as tears welled in his eyes, he knew it was time to give him a break. “Where do you want it, baby?”

Minho debated in his head. Did he want to wear it? Or would he prefer to have it all inside? He hesitated a moment too long because the choice was ripped from him a few seconds later. Ropes of hot cum decorated his already-messy stomach and his body trembled with his own orgasm at the sensation.

“Jinnie-” He cried the taller man’s name as he came for the fourth and final time, his whole body burning. Tears finally spilled from his eyes, though it was short-lived as they quickly dried. His thighs trembled and his chest heaved. He let out a disapproving whine when Hyunjin pulled away but quickly silenced himself when he realized he was going for the camera.

“Just a few more shots, hmm?” Hyunjin grinned lazily as he carefully took the camera from its place on the tripod before padding back over to where Minho still lay in a heap on the floor. “I want you to see how pretty you look from my point of view.” He explained as he settled back between Minho’s legs, urging them around his hips.

Minho couldn’t hide his tiny smile as Hyunjin snapped a series of photos, making sure to capture the paint and cum decorating his stomach. He couldn’t bring himself to be embarrassed about being fully nude on camera as he basked in the afterglow of his orgasms. It felt…right.

After a few minutes of photos, Hyunjin carefully placed the camera on the stool and collapsed beside Minho. “That was fucking amazing.” The older man nodded in agreement, turning on his side to face Hyunjin, who now had a mischievous grin on his face. “What are the chances you’ll come model for me again soon?”

#kpop smut #stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunho #hyunho smut #stray kids lee know #stray kids lee minho #lee know #lee know smut #lee minho smut #lee minho #alura's works #requested

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shepherds-of-haven · 1 year

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how many pillows does each RO use, and what is their hardness/softness?

Blade: one pillow, and it's really hard and flat lol, he might as well not be sleeping with a pillow at all 😂 an MC who sleeps with him could jokingly call it his stone tablet 😂 ironically his bedroll when he's camping might be more comfortable!

Trouble: there are two on his bed, but he only really uses the one; he doesn't even really know where the second one came from. It must have come with the bed... that doesn't sound right, but he didn't buy an extra one, it seems like it's always been there, so...? 🤷‍♂️ Anyway, the one he actually uses started off reasonably comfy and with medium softness, but is now all squashed and punched out of shape and lopsided because of how hard he sleeps on it, lol

Tallys: at home, she uses two pillows, one for her head, the other to place between her legs or to hug against her chest; both are medium-firm, but are quite long and slim rather than fat and plump

Shery: she has a veritable nest of pillows, at least 4 on her bed, and all are fat and soft and huge and fluffy, more air and feathers than substance!

Riel: he has two pillows on his bed for symmetry, but he only uses one. It's of medium firmness, tending more on the firm side, and is very clean and white and crisp-looking!

Chase: he has two pillows on his bed, but the other one is usually for the sake of any partners or bedmates; he only sleeps with the one. They're of the most luxurious softness and are made of the finest down feathers, so they're like laying on clouds, but he does a weird thing where he sometimes sleeps with his head slightly under the pillow rather than on top of it, lol?

Red: he has two pillows on his bed, but he only ever uses one. It's quite flat and square and stolid in appearance, but is of medium firmness! He lugged it all the way from the Circle. The other one came with his bed from the Order and is noticeably softer and plumper!

Ayla: she has one pillow that's quite flat and and dense and firm, though I do think she'd benefit from sleeping with a long body pillow or something like that! Unfortunately, she's too stubborn and sleeps very rigidly and with barebones minimalism after years of sleeping on the ground and having to jump up at a moment's notice!

Briony: she has three pillows: two are for sleeping (one for her head and one to hug) and both are plump and soft and squishy (more substantive than Shery's, but not by much), and the third is to prop her up when reading in bed only, because the other two don't retain their shape well enough to be good for her back in that position. That one is plump and very firm, but isn't used for sleeping at all!

Lavinet: She has... *trying to count* 7 pillows? Two are in the back and are large and firm and mostly decorative, two are for sleeping and are of medium softness, two are smaller, square decorative cushions, and the last is an even smaller decorative cushion, lol. When she's sleeping, she typically only has the first four on her actual bed!

Like this:

Halek: he has one pillow and it's as limp and tired as he is lol it looks like someone's taken half the stuffing/feathers out of it 😂

Caine: he has one pillow, and it's a bit grubby and well-loved and soft!

#Shepherds of Haven #pillow #pillows #bedroom #bed #sleeping #all characters

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fallingtowers · 2 months

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so i'm watching dollhouse currently, and watching a non-buffyverse whedon joint has got me thinking about the phenomenon of whedonspeak. it's fascinating to me, because there have been plenty of moments in dollhouse where a character has said something patently whedonesque and i've been like :/ ahh yeah i see why people can't stand this style of writing. but on btvs, where the dialogue is generally a lot more heightened than on dollhouse, it really doesn't bother me at all (outside of a handful of really egregious examples).

the big reason for this, i think, and the one i always bring up when i'm defending the dialogue on btvs, is that on btvs it always felt like a tool of characterization. at first blush it may seem like e.g. buffy and willow have very similar voices, but the truth is it's all stylized, but in different ways. and btvs is so good at characterization (a lot better, i would argue, than dollhouse) that by the end of the show you know the characters' voices so well that you can clock it instantly when a line isn't 100% in character. it helps, i think, that btvs is patient zero for this kind of dialogue -- it became an established style of the show, but it wasn't yet an established style of writing in general (note that before it was known as whedonspeak, it used to be called "buffyspeak"). it works well because it's tailored to the tonal sensibilities of btvs, whereas if you just slap it onto any old story it's bound to feel incongruous and grating.

(also, as a sidenote, by and large, btvs knew exactly when to drop the banter. that's another thing -- these days whedonspeak as a concept is so bound up in people's minds [and with good reason!] with that particular brand of annoying mcu-ass ironic storytelling that has to mock itself at every turn for fear of coming across as self-serious. but btvs is a very heartfelt work of art! it [not always, but often] takes the emotions of its characters seriously! when buffy comes home and finds her mom dead on the couch, she doesn't go "well that just happened." you hit a certain threshold of dramatic weight and the whedonspeak falls away.)

there's another reason it's become so pervasive, though, i think, and it's one i kind of sympathize with. it's got to do with the demands of television as a medium. i think modern tv and film is the form of storytelling that has the biggest gulf between Showing and Telling. like, in a novel or a comic or whatever, you can just use narration to shed light on a character's thoughts or plans or whatever, but on screen you don't have that luxury, and these days voiceovers and flashbacks and stuff are generally regarded as being kind of graceless. so you've got Showing, which always runs the risk of being too vague and confusing, and you've got Telling -- and dialogue is really your only method of Telling -- which comes with a whole host of potential pitfalls. it might feel too on-the-nose, or too stiff and contrived. or it might commit the cardinal sin of 21st century entertainment: being Boring.

that's the thing, right. screenwriters are always trying to figure out how to do good exposition. one instance of dialogue i found grating on dollhouse is a scene where echo is dreaming, and the audience needs to be told she understands she's dreaming. so what do you do? in writing, you'd just describe her moment of realization, but on tv you can't do that. so instead, they have echo go, "oookay... i think we can all agree this isn't real." which like, if we view it as an attempt to content with the limitations of the medium, it makes sense! she's alone, so she has no reason to say "this is a dream," so we solve that problem by having her make a little joke to herself. but in practice, it just kind of falls flat.

in conclusion, the art of writing dialogue is one thing and the art of writing exposition is another, and neither is at all easy, and in screenwriting specifically they often dovetail in a particularly torturous way. we're still gonna be trying to figure this out when the sun burns out probably. i certainly don't have an answer. i do have a piece of advice though: watch buffy the vampire slayer. it's really good, and the dialogue is only a little annoying

#buffyposting #there's a separate but related sin that btvs and dollhouse both commit #namely the way they write Nerd Characters #a lot of dollhouse's worst dialogue comes from topher and it's strictly not because it's whedonspeak #it's because he'll say some shit that will make me instinctively go SHUT UP ABOUT STAR WARS #and i like season 6 of btvs mostly but god some of the trio's scenes are fucking unwatchable #and don't even get me started on season 7.#why did they bring andrew back.

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inkformyblood · 9 months

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i would know you anywhere (CWFKB #10)

Kissing Through Smiles @codywanfirstkissbingo Modern AU, University Graduation

“Cody!”

Rising on his toes at the call of his name, bracing his elbow against Rex’s shoulder in order to steady himself and ignoring the grunt from the other man, Cody peers over the crowd. The majority are dressed in the dark robes of graduation, flashes of colour and pattern from the clothes of their visitors, but Cody could pick Obi-Wan out in a concert crowd of thousands. The other man has braced himself against one of the lampposts in the corner of the square, waving his arm frantically in the air.

The dark robes look good on him, hanging open except for the thin golden chain at his neck that holds it closed at the top. Beneath it, Obi-Wan wears a crisp white shirt and Cody bites back a laugh in recognition. He knows that shirt well, Obi-Wan had been frantically ironing it earlier that morning, the small board balanced across the back of the sofa as it had been one of the only clear spaces in the flat, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth as he worked. Cody hadn’t been in much of a better state, having lived in the same hoodie and trousers for the previous week while his final exam had drawn ever nearer, but he had still kept out of the way of both Obi-Wan and the trailing cord while he cooked them both breakfast. It had been nice, domestic almost, bringing back memories of when Cody had still lived in his childhood home without such mundane concerns like rent and groceries.

“Obi-Wan!” Cody waves his free hand, leaning more fully onto Rex to do so. Rex, a begrudging support, snaps something up at him that Cody doesn’t bother to listen to, and widens his stance to better support Cody’s weight. He drops down after another moment, luxuriating in the way Obi-Wan’s grin had impossibly brightened even more after seeing him, uncaring that his own smile is beginning to cause his cheeks to ache. He’s happy, deliriously, utterly happy.

Jango chuckles, his back pressed to the broader one of Seventeen, using his bulk to hide the trailing smoke from his cigarette as he breathes in and then out. “You don’t need to hang around us all the time. I’ve got more than enough sons to be paternal to today if you want to go see your boyfriend.”

“Not my boyfriend,” Cody informs him, casting a glance at his smoke that Jango ignores with the same ease Cody has inherited.

“Life partner then. Now, off you go.”

Cody isn’t about to let an opportunity like this slip through his fingers so he brushes a kiss against Jango’s cheek and darts out of the close circle of his brothers and away across the crowded square. He twists around the other groups, careful to keep his shoulders in check and try to make his way across to Obi-Wan as unobtrusively as he could, but he doesn’t know how successful he was. A scattered handful of glares pierce his back, a few exclamations of annoyance, but none of that matters as Cody reaches Obi-Wan, his hands already extended to help Cody up onto the pedestal of the lamppost next to him. His skin is warm, his hands rougher than Cody would have expected still given the purely the academic lean of his course, and Cody wraps an arm around his shoulder as Obi-Wan’s grip falls to his waist, holding him securely.

“Hello there,” Obi-Wan murmurs, his nose bumping against Cody’s as they centre themselves on the limited space.

“Hey.” Cody pulls in a breath through his teeth, tasting the sharp artificial scent of Obi-Wan’s shampoo — borrowed from Cody’s apartment and he’d never considered the impact of smelling something so familiar on someone else — and the rich scent of his cologne. There’s a faint sheen over his collarbone from it and Cody presses his cheek against Obi-Wan’s, hugging him tightly. “I thought you would be with your family.”

Obi-Wan chuckles, his breath warm against Cody’s cheek as he leans into his hold. “Grandfather is busy conducting a tour. I believe the student guide originally assigned the role is receiving quite the education on the history of the place, and Qui-Gon is joining him to reminisce about all the hijinks he has gotten up to. If we can make it to the ceremony without another feud erupting, then I will count the day as a success.”

“Such a low barrier for success,” Cody teases, drawing back slightly. He doesn’t move far, can’t with their limited space beneath their feet and, even if he could, he wouldn’t want to. The future that had been looming is barreling them towards them, both fragile and wide-eyed in the headlights. “Though I can’t say my classification is going to be any better.”

“Yes. It did make you easier to spot.” Obi-Wan leans back, waving once more to the huddle of Cody’s family. Cody looks as well, he can’t pick out individual features from this distance but he can make out the uniform shade of their skin, the majority dressed in pale coloured shirts and dark trousers, and the dark colour of their hair. They stand out and Cody grumbles something into Obi-Wan’s collar. “Rex is shouting something to you.”

Cody, reluctantly, looks.

“I’m going to kill him. Obi-Wan, let me down.”

Obi-Wan bites the tip of his tongue as he fights back his laughter, his shoulders shaking. His grip tightens on Cody’s waist, keeping him close. “We could always… follow his suggestion? If you’d like.”

Cody straightens. He feels like he isn’t breathing, like he hasn’t taken a full breath since Obi-Wan first called his name and he surged across a courtyard to reach his side. “If I’m kissing you, it’s because I want to. Not because of my brother’s suggestion.”

“Whatever you say, love.”

Obi-Wan grins and lowers his mouth to Cody’s who is also unable to stop smiling. The angle isn’t right, the tilt of their heads restricted by their close quarters, but they laugh together, kissing in the sunshine. The future can wait for a little while longer; they’re together here and now.

#codywan #star wars #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #cody x obi wan #my writing #cwfkb2023 #codywan first kiss bingo #fanfic

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randomtable · 1 year

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1d6 Odd Foreign Coins

For when treasure in convenient mints is just too easy. 1. Iron rings - this smallest denomination coin belongs to a nation far across the sea. Even trading with them, though, these rings are small change. 2. Butterflies - this odd currency belongs not to a nation but to a thieves guild (or other underground faction). It is made by permanently attaching four coins of the realm together in a sort of square or clover shape. It is not legal currency, but has value in certain illegal transactions. Carrying it can also, of course, get you into trouble. 3. Bricks - so called because rather than being flat disks, these coins are rectangular and almost as thick as they are wide. Bricks come in different denominations, in varying sizes but all made of silver. The small alliance of nations who use Bricks are nearby, but not on the friendliest terms with your home region. However, the raw silver is of decent value. 4. Beads and Medallions - smaller and thicker than the average metal coins, these coins are made of dyed glass. They are the coin of a small, wealthy principality, where literally displaying one’s wealth has become quite fashionable. Merchants who accept these coins are most likely to trade in small, luxury items. 5. Golden Daggers - these slender gold coins are not uncommon to see in the northern part of your realm. They are the most used coin in the neighboring kingdom, whose odd manner of minting begins with slender metal rods. They aren’t commonly accepted except near the northern border, but it isn’t too difficult to find someone who will exchange them at a fair rate. 6. Silver Gems - so called because of their geometric design that resembles a cut gemstone, these coins are highly valuable. The empire from which they come has dissolved. The upper class of your realm romanticize the fallen empire’s glory days, and prize anything from it, including its odd currency. They can’t be spent like regular money, but to a collector they can be sold like valuable art.

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mynameisjessejk · 9 days

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A Gang AU

This is entirely the fault of the Discord, because there was a video of a river otter causing Shenanigans, and it was mentioned river otters are horrible gremlins who have terrible, bloody gang wars. So, of course, here we are.

When the High King had been killed, the criminal underbelly of the city went into paroxysms, as the various small warring factions, which Ereinion had kept in comprehensive check, grappled to place themselves in a new hierarchy.

Paenvellon had drawn a hard boundary around the lower eastside docks, and held with with an iron fist. He had no interest in the drug trade that was most of the inner city, and had only a passing care about the black market. He only cared about the illegal weapons trade as far is it existed inside his very specific sphere of influence.

No, Paenvellon focused on smuggling. The tariffs on Numenorean goods made them luxury goods for the wealthy only in Lindon, unless you knew the right people. Paenvellon had made his living in being the right people.

And if there were a few strategic fishing nets draped over barrels in the corner of his headquarters, well. The warehouse was a theatre production, not his actual place of work, but it had worked very well for him so far. It wouldn't do to let anyone forget where he came from, and he found the smell of fish lent a credence to his work.

It also covered the smell of blood.

Elladan bared his bloody teeth, where he stood behind Paenvellon's shoulder. Paenvellon knew this without looking, because the small man who'd come on behalf of the ship's captain made a tiny squeaking noise of fear. Paenvellon kept his face impassive.

Elladan's leashed danger was threat enough—Paenvellon didn't need to say anything. Elladan had made himself the most terrifying person in east Lindon. A small amount of it was that he was Elladan Peredhel, son of the High King's favorite enforcer, the one the Red Eyes had nicknamed the Angel of Death. But mostly, it was just that Elladan could—and had—bring a knife to a gun fight and win.

"I'll pass the message along," the man stuttered. He was very afraid he would not pass the message along, that his body would be the message.

Paenvellon wasn't that angry yet. "See that you do," he said coolly. "Orophin, see that he gets back to his ship safely."

Orophin dropped from the rafters, landed in a roll, and popped to his feet close enough to draw back the man's chair. "Sir," he drawled softly.

The man squeaked again. Doubtlessly, he'd had no idea Orophin was in the rafters.

"Wash your face," Paenvellon ordered Elladan, once they were gone.

Elladan wiped the blood from his chin with the back of his hand. "It's fine," he said airily.

Paenvellon shot a flat look over his shoulder. "Wash your face," he said again.

Elladan rolled his eyes, but he went to the big basin-sink in the corner. It was a fish-cleaning station, but it lent a slightly menacing air to the room, as if they were always prepared to torture someone. Not that they ever had, but rumors were easy to spread. Elladan washed his face obligingly.

"And stop letting people hit you in the face," Paenvellon added once Elladan had shut the tap off again. "It makes you look unhinged."

Elladan shrugged. "Kinda the point, Boss," he said wryly.

"And he looks so good unhinged," Legolas said, climbing down from the second-story window where he'd been keeping watch.

Elladan beamed at him. "See!" he said to Paenvellon.

Paenvellon stared flatly back at him till Elladan deflated.

"Fine," Elladan sighed. "I will stop letting people hit me in the face before meetings."

"You're lucky I like you," Paenvellon said.

Elladan scoffed. "As if you liked me," he said cheerfully.

"Speaking of," Paenvellon said wryly, "If you ripped your stitches, I'm going to let him murder you." As he spoke, he gathered up the extra recording device he'd stashed under the table and the papers spread across the top of it, and stashed them in his briefcase.

Elladan and Legolas were cheerfully retrieving a slightly absurd number of weapons they'd stashed around the warehouse in case of ambush.

Legolas drove, Elladan sat shotgun—fully prepared to make that name appropriate if necessary, and Paenvellon settled behind Elladan. "Rohir's?" Las asked him, though it was a non-question.

Paenvellon hummed, watching out the window as the dockside slums went by.

The twins lived in a shitty second-floor walkup in walking distance from the fire station that was the base for Elrohir's ambulance. They could've had better, either of them could've afforded it, but they liked the building and they liked the neighborhood.

Elrohir kissed Paen on the cheek as they piled in the door. "Hey, good day?" he asked.

Paenvellon reeled his lover in for a proper kiss. "Very good," he agreed quietly once they broke. "You?"

Elrohir grinned at him. "Didn't have to knock anyone out, didn't have to narcan anyone, and no one died," he said brightly.

"And Elladan's stitches did not rip," Legolas called cheerfully from the kitchen.

"Oh good," Elrohir said dryly, rolling his eyes at Paenvellon.

Paen nodded in agreement.

There was a crash from the kitchen. Elrohir sighed, and they went to supervise Elladan's kitchen adventures.

Elladan was cooking stir fry, water heating for noodles and the wok already on the stove as he diced vegetables. Legolas was sitting on the opposite counter, eating peanuts out of the bowl they left there primarily for him. Paen sat on a barstool by Legolas and Elrohir went to help his brother. As the twins bickered over vegetables, msg, and sesame oil, Paenvellon smiled, pleased with the day's work.

#jessewrites #tolkien #fanfic #Gang AU #Elladan #Elrohir #Legolas #Paenvellon #Elrohir/Paenvellon #Elladan/Legolas

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braveclementine · 4 months

Text

Chapter 5

Warnings: Smut (Severus), non-con from both parties (Lucius), trigger warnings of rape (Greyback), 18+ readers only

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

There were four of them and I was dragged harshly between two of them. My feet stumbled on the gravel, hopping when a particularly sharp stone hit the bottom of my feet. Their grip on my upper arms was unpleasantly tight.

As we approached the black wrought-iron gate that guarded the large mansion forebodingly, they all lifted their left arms and passed through the gate. I was dragged through, feeling as though I was being scraped by Iron blades.

My heart was beating, not in fright, but in anticipation. I would get to see Severus. And while I had no hopes that he would be helping me escape, or even that he would talk to me, seeing his face would be enough.

It was stupid, irrational. My visions never deviated from their course. There was no reason to worry that Voldemort would kill my fiancé until the planned time.

But still, separated from war and being on opposite sides. . . it made me nervous and I would be glad to see his face.

As I was dragged up the long pathway, I started mentally calculating all of the possible outcomes.

Voldemort might keep me. Try and use my visions or even a little shiny trinket to wave in front of Harry's face and tell him to come and get me. Those were good-ish scenarios. I would still be able to plan how to save Severus, Tonks, Fred, and Dad's lives. It would be more difficult, of course, but still doable.

Or he could kill me flat out. At least my family wouldn't have to out live me by long, that was the singular comfort. The uncomfortable part was wondering where Remus would end up. He would be with Dad and Tonks surely for a little bit. But after dad and Tonks died too? Maybe Andromeda would keep him? Or would Mrs. Weasley take him in? Or would Harry do it? Trang was to tell him I was his sister and explain the whole story if I did die.

Trang.

I prayed that she was okay as I was dragged through the doorway into the manner.

I knew where I was of course- Malfoy Manor. Though I had never stepped foot into the place, it was both grand, cold, and luxurious all at the same time.

Like all of the portraits in the Wizarding World, the ones on the walls watched as I was dragged down the hallway. They didn't talk to each other, only judging me and my worth with cold, calculating stares.

Two figures appeared at the end of the hallway. One was a feminine figure that I saw first as the second followed behind slower. Her wild black hair was curly and it made all of her facial features stand out dramatically. Her lips were puffy and red, her eyelids heavily lidded and dark.

Bellatrix clapped her hands excitedly, but her good humor was quickly diminished as the Death Eater on my left addressed her, "Is he in?"

"No." Bellatrix said, her eyes becoming narrowed and shrewd. "I will take her from here."

"The Dark Lord's orders were very clear. We are to put Kane or Potter in the dungeons." The Death Eater clearly didn't know who he was talking to. Or he was stupid. Or he was brave. I wasn't sure.

"I will take her from here." Bellatrix repeated, her smile also fading now, turning more into an ugly frown.

The Death Eater made motions like he was going to ignore her and simply take me to the dungeons anyways, but the second one let me go and started to back away slowly.

I looked at Bellatrix and then my eyes flickered behind to see the man behind her.

I used Legilimens shields to make sure no emotions flickered over my face.

Severus stood there, straight back and shoulders tense. His black eyes had no emotion in them, even as mine met his. His long black hair was oily as it came down around his face.

I flicked my eyes back to Bellatrixs', and only met them for a second before I suddenly felt cool tile under my cheek, while the rest of my body felt like it was on fire.

I knew that Severus had this way of separating his mind from his body while under the Cruciatus Curse. It was part of his superb Legilimens skills. But, I had not mastered that level and my throat burned as the screams erupted from it. Ungodly noises that didn't sound like they should come from any human.

I couldn't tell if I had gone blind from pain or if I had squeezed my eyes shut, but when my body was released from the curse and I was just laying there in agony, learning to breathe, my eyes fluttered open to see the chandelier above me.

"Bellatrix." Severus' voice was like music to my ears after such pain. It was the same voice he used in the classroom, like he hated everybody- including me. Harsh and baritone, deep, conveying nothing seemingly, but ultimately all of his hate and contempt for the person he was talking to.

"What Snape?" Bellatrix snapped.

"I would be. . . appeased if I could have her for thirty or forty minutes." I could picture the curl of his lip and my eyes fluttered, because I wanted to see it. See him. His face.

I saw Bellatrixs' face first, amused in her misunderstanding of Severus' words. "I wish I could witness it. But I suspect you'll want a more private audience."

"Very private." This time I saw Severus' face. He was coming the closet he ever would to smiling, in the presence of someone he detested. And it was a mocking, cruel smile, that I almost never saw from him.

Bellatrix cackled at that, flaunting off to the side. Severus dragged me to my feet harshly. I didn't even have the strength to fight him off. He threw me over his shoulder, rather unflattering, but I didn't care at the particular moment.

I only knew things had changed when the sound of a door clicked behind us and suddenly, he was placing me gently on my back on the bed. His large, rough hands were cupping my face delicately. The tunnels of black were suddenly full of warmth, love, and worry.

"Elizabeth?" His voice was soft, musical in reality now.

"Sev." I whispered back, throat so dry my voice cracked. "Oh Sev."

His lips gently pulled mine into a hug. Enveloping them warmly, protectively almost. Mine responded in kind, submitting, letting his dominate. His tongue dipped lightly against my lips and they parted, allowing the intrusion desperately.

My strength was coming back and my hands slid up his arms, before they wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss became more desperate. Our tongues entwined with each others, noses smashed against each others cheeks. Our breathing was ragged, neither of us wanting to let go to breathe fresh air.

His hands were sliding behind my back, undoing the zipper for the sleeveless dress. "What a beautiful colour on you." He breathed out, finally sitting back.

I stood up, letting the dress slide from my body and his arms pulled me to him again. He made his own clothes disappear with a simple snap of his fingers and before me was a rugged man.

He would never be beautiful enough to be called a God or to be carved into a pedestal of marble. Because Severus Snape was not a beautiful man. He was not perfect or glorious. He was scarred and strong. Rugged. He was. . . distinguished. Regal. Dignified.

Mine.

It was as though, while the two of us were staring at each other, memorizing each other again, we were thinking the same thing.

"Mine." both of us whispered it together before Severus was pushing me back into the pillows of the bed. He grabbed his wand, lazily waving it towards my arm. Thin, black rope twined around them, wrapping intricately around my wrists. It didn't cut into my wrists, even as my arms held firm.

"Just in case." Severus whispered softly, dipping his lips down, catching my nipple between his teeth, before sucking. I whimpered, a soft sound and one I hadn't made in months.

His other hand palmed the other breast. Squeezing the soft flesh and he ran his thumb over my peaked nipple over and over again. It was such a strange sensation for both of us. The softness to him and the stimulation for me.

I ground my hips against his, his cock rubbing against my clit. Now that it was just the two of us, seemingly alone, I was aroused for him. Never mind that Bellatrix and Lucius and Greyback and all of the other Death Eaters were in the house somewhere. Never mind that Voldemort would be approaching when he heard of my capture.

It was just Severus and me. Living in our own world.

"Please fuck me sir." I whispered quietly against the shell of his ear. "Professor."

Severus grabbed my jaw harshly, a lust in his eyes. "What a naughty girl, begging for her Professors cock."

"Yes Professor. Please give me your cock." I begged. Our voices low enough so that they could only reach our ears. But they held the same weight and lust and desire as if we were screaming it at the rooftops.

"Naughty girls don't usually get what they want." Severus smirked, running his lips down my stomach, nipping at the skin. "Why should you be any different?"

I refused to say anything depressing or anything that would break the spell. "Because I'm only naughty for you."

Severus' eyes glinted in understanding. This was our fantasy for now, to be broken by reality only after we were done.

"That is true. Which makes you a good girl by definition. And good girls always get what they want." Severus hummed, licking my neck, before sucking a hicky under my ear.

He lifted my hips up slightly and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He thrusted into me and I couldn't help it, couldn't stop it. I moaned loudly, tossing my head back into the pillows. I knew the others would hear- I knew they had to be curious about it. Severus wasn't exactly known for this. But I didn't care.

I even smiled a little at the rumors that would follow Severus after this. 'Damn, Snape is so good in bed, he can even got that victim of his, the Kane girl, to be pleasured'. I almost laughed. Severus would glare at everyone.

Severus had seen it in my head and rolled his eyes. "You're imagination is adorable."

This time, I did smile full out, before pressing my lips to his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around me and I let out a whimper as he hit a good spot inside of me. He had them memorized, hitting them in the perfect timing and succession so that I was whimpering and thrashing underneath him.

"I'm going to cum." I whimpered, both of us ignoring the creak in the doorway. Neither of us turning to see who it was.

Severus said nothing verbally, but he nipped at the soft skin of my breasts and I knew that it was permission. I screamed, squeezing my eyes shut, feeling the pleasure radiate through my body.

As we both calmed down, we saw that the door had been shut again. Whoever had been here had left.

Severus' time was up. We stared at each other for a long time, simply holding hands. Finally, I whispered. "Don't do anything stupid. Don't. . . don't compromise a thing. You. . ." I looked around and lowered my voice even more, "You do not compromise the entire world over me."

We stared each other in the eyes. I knew he was waiting for me to back down, but I refused. He would not. I saw how this ended and he could not risk it.

"Just keep your promise." Severus whispered, and finally moved so that he was off the bed, getting dressed again.

I didn't say anything. I had crossed my fingers when he'd made me promise. It didn't count, there was no promise.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I sat in the corner of the jail cell.

Jail cell? Or was it more of a dungeon cell? Cell in the dungeon?

I digress.

Either way, it was a cell. It was in the farthest back corner in the dungeon from the door as possible. There were three walls of thick, damp stone around me, the one wall that was not, consisted of thick metal- probably Iron- bars along with the door, which was locked.

It was a small cell, with nothing in it. Not even a bench to sleep or sit on. There were manacles connected to the walls, though surprisingly they had not chained me. Perhaps they figured, wandless and having nothing on me but the dress, I would not be able to escape.

Well, they were right about that.

I sat in the corner of the dungeon, curled up in a ball with my head resting against the wall. Not out of fear, but it was freezing, and it was hard to stay warm in the dress.

My long hair came in handy. It was thick and luscious, especially having been washed earlier that morning. So it was warm, almost like a blanket and was nice feeling on my shoulders. But it wouldn't last for long.

From what I understood by Bellatrixs' scathing words, Voldemort was not in the country at the moment. And since I was not Harry Potter, he didn't feel the need to come back as quickly. Which meant I was going to be in here for a few days before he even bothered to see to me.

It made me feel a little better. Perhaps it would give me time to figure out a plan to escape. . . but it wasn't looking promising.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps coming down the pathway. They were quick, but they were heavier than Severus' and Bellatrixs'.

My heart started to beat heavily. Perhaps Voldemort had changed his mind. Perhaps he was here for me now.

But it was Lucius, who stood in front of my cell.

He looked different, than the last time I had seen him, standing in front of me at the Ministry. His hair was still long, but it didn't look as well cared after. His face was gaunter, more shadowy. He looked. . . almost ill. Paler for sure. And his hands seemed to be shaking just a little bit.

I wondered for a second, if he was letting me go. But as he opened the cell and stepped inside, closing the door behind him, I figured that was a foolish take. He would not let me go.

I noticed his eyes were off. The pale blue-grey orbs weren't focused. But I couldn't imagine what the cause of that would be. He didn't smell drunk, so he had to be coherent.

But I had no more tries to think of anything before his hands and lips were on me.

My brain didn't react right away. At first, it was just stuck in motionless shock. His hands felt like Severus' hands and his lips tasted like tea and honey. His hair was soft against my cheek, tickling it, just like Severus. My brain was trying to comprehend what was happening and for a second, my eyes fluttered closed, lips molding under Lucius'.

It took only three and a half seconds for my brain to reboot. By that point, Lucius had removed my dress for the most part and he was freeing his length from the confines of his wizarding robes.

I finally reacted. Stupidly. I knew that I had no chance of truly fighting this. I grabbed his shoulders, pushing him backwards and then winced as he truly fell back, hitting his head harshly against the bars.

Oh shite.

Lucius lunged for me, pinning me against the stone floor. I twisted in his arms, but his grip was strong and his legs caged me in, preventing me from retaliating. His thrust was sudden and not as painful as I thought it would be.

Then I remembered that Severus hadn't cleaned me up. So the slick that was leftover from him was lubricating Lucius, giving him an easier time and for me- it was less painful. It hadn't been that long for me being in here anyways. Ten or fifteen minutes.

"Wait." I gasped out, still trying to fight him. He was moving as though on autopilot, his thrusts even and fast. I hated that I was actually feeling some semblance of pleasure from it. I focused on his face, which was stoic and glazed.

I grunted, trying to wrench out of his grasp again, and then gasped, a wave of pleasure shooting through my entire body. I clenched my teeth together, back arching. Fuck.

"LET ME GO!" I shouted, trying to turn now.

"Stay still." He finally spoke and it sent chills up my spine. His words weren't harsh or spiteful or even gloating. He seemed calm and collected and I was staring to think that something was wrong.

That was confirmed as he suddenly froze, mid thrust. I panted, staring up at him. My entire body was shaking and breath hitched in my throat. I watched his eyes become more aware.

And then suddenly, he launched his body away from me, ripping himself out of me which made me whimper in pain, curling up, putting pressure on the sensitive parts. I heard him curse as he smacked his own head against the bars this time.

"How long was I down here?" He spat at me. There was the tone I was expecting.

I struggled backwards to sit up, gauging him with my eyes. "W- What?"

"How long was I down here?" He looked like he was about to panic. His eyes were darting around the entire cell and he looked down at himself. He shoved his length back in his wizarding robes, glancing at me again. His eyes were horrified and suddenly full of self-hatred.

"You weren't. . . aware?" I asked, trying to figure out what was going on. Imperius Curse? But who here would force him to force himself on me? It didn't make sense.

I scanned him again, trying to get my brain working again.

"I'm ill." Lucius whispered. "Fuck." He put his face in his hands, looking like he wanted to die right then and there.

"Somno Maledictum." I whispered to myself.

"Smart girl." He muttered, rather bitterly.

"I don't understand." I whispered again. Somno Maledictum was an illness that had to do with sleep. It was a form of sleep walking, but instead of actually looking like you were asleep and walking, you did everything. But it also depended on what you were thinking about.

The disease could kick in whenever, with no warning. For example, a housekeeper that had Somno Maledictum, might be thinking about a house she had to clean. She could black out upon entering the house. She might come around a few hours later and find the house completely done.

It was disorienting and it was a rare disease. Cures weren't even ready made for it because it was so rare and one of the flowers in the ingredients was rare. But for Lucius Malfoy, that shouldn't matter. He had all the money in the world.

"But you're rich." I protested, trying to wrap my head around it. "You can afford the cure so-"

"What is wrong with you?" Lucius spat at me.

I blinked, a little hurt. "I- what?"

"I just. . . raped you." He struggled with the words and my sympathy increased tenfold. "I just violated you and you're just. . ."

"Well it wasn't you, was it?" I demanded. "You were blacked out, how were you supposed to stop yourself?"

"Severus is going to kill me." Lucius muttered, not answering my question. He put his face in his hands again. "If the Dark Lord doesn't kill me first."

I rolled my eyes. "Pretty sure the Dark Lord is going to congragulate you on raping me."

Lucius flinched and glared at me, "That wasn't what I was referring to. I'm useless and I'm a liability. I thought. . ." He drifted off and said, "He asked for my wand. I was blacked out then. I came to with his hand in front of me. I made a fool of myself, he thought I was asking for his wand. I thought he was going to kill me then. I keep this up. . ."

"Why haven't you asked Professor Snape for a cure?" I asked. "He's sure to make you one and I know he would keep it a secret for you."

"Oh yeah." Lucius responded bitterly. "I just raped his wife, really don't think he's going to feel like helping me."

My heart started to pound in my chest. I tried to laugh. "Professor Snape isn't married."

Lucius sighed. "He's my best friend, Miss Kane. No one else can pick up on it. It's. . . the Dark Lord did allude that you could be used in such a manor. But I wasn't going to touch you because Severus is my best friend. . . if I can use such a childish term. He's really more like a brother. But now. . ."

I found myself getting to my feet. I forgot I was naked and knelt back down in front of Lucius. My hand cupped his cheek and he flinched, staring at me with such confusion. "What- why-" I ran a finger down his neck and he shuddered, falling silent.

"Mr. Malfoy. . . Lucius. . ." I whispered, horror coming over me. I looked straight into his eyes. "You have. . . months-"

"I know." Lucius whispered, putting his head down, falling away from my hand. "I know. Look, I'm not-"

"Lucius." A new voice joined us and we both froze for a second before we saw that it was just Severus, standing in the doorway of the cell. I was relieved that he didn't look angry, just a little sad. But Lucius wouldn't meet his eyes.

Severus handed me my dress which I took, but didn't put on. Somehow, it was easier to just hold it to my body than try to dress right now. Severus paid attention to Lucius now.

"Why wouldn't you tell me?" Severus asked, taking his face into his hands, gauging how sick Lucius was.

"What does it matter? He's going to win. I'll wish to be dead anyways." Lucius muttered. "And I wanted to protect you."

"Yes, you're always doing that. You should cut it out." Severus replied, the smallest of smiles coming over his face.

"Severus, he's. . ." I didn't say anything else. We could all hear footsteps coming down the hall. They weren't hurried or anything. More like prowling.

Lucius groaned. "This is my fault. They're going to form a line."

Severus jerked Lucius to his feet and hissed under his breath, "Act Luc. You're victorious."

I wasn't sure if Lucius was going to manage it, but I let myself sprawl back on the ground. It was easier to simply curl up on my side and close my eyes to pretend while Severus and Lucius left. I heard the door sliding shut, but they didn't move from the cell.

"Go a second round Snape?" I shivered, recognizing Greybacks' voice. I think I would've rather of taken anyone else over him. Even multiple others over him. Even the Dark Lord himself. Anyone but Greyback.

"Nonsense. She's to weak for another round." Severus said in a scathing voice. "I was looking for Lucius. He seems to have worked her out quite well."

"I think she's got some more in her." Greyback said. I tried playing dead at this point. Did werewolves like dead meat?

"I'm warning you-" Severus started and I winced. Severus showing any sort of sympathy was dangerous.

"Protective?" Greyback sneered.

"Of my own neck." Severus retorted with his own sneer. "It's your head if something happens to her before the Dark Lord gets to her. And you're not exactly known for keeping your victims alive, Greyback."

"She'll live." Greyback said and I resigned myself to my fate, hearing the cell door slam open.

I needed to get used to this. It was going to be my life now. And trying to be a girl in a book and think she could fight her way out of it wasn't going to do me any good.

I whimpered, letting out a cry of real pain, feeling Greybacks' nails, which dug into my skin as he grabbed my arms.

Severus was still standing there, frozen. His black eyes bore into the back of Greybacks' head and his hand twitched towards his wand.

I knew he had to leave, even as Greyback was ripping the dress away and I was grateful that I hadn't put it back on. At least it'd still be in one piece later when I had to face Voldemort.

"What are you two still doing here?" I snapped, lacing anger and also embarrassment into the words. "Want a fucking show?"

Severus met my eyes and straightened his shoulders. He was still to tense in my opinion. Lucius fared better, sneering, "Like any show would be passable by you."

I cried out again as Greyback bit into my neck. Not the way that Severus did, when he wanted to be possessive. Greyback was doing it to taste me. To hurt me.

Lucius grabbed Severus arm, dragging him down the hallway, quickly. I could hear the sounds of their shoes pounding against the stones. Severus was furious.

Greyback's nails were sharper than any others. Everywhere they touched, even with him trying to be gentle (ish), they were still leaving scratches, most of them cutting open enough for little droplets of blood to pool on my skin.

I waited for him to thrust himself into me. But he never did.

I felt water on my face, tears. Greyback cupped my face, making me wince. He sneered and then flipped my body over so that I was on my stomach. I cried out as he pulled my hips back.

I had a singular, incoherent thought before I felt some of the worst pain in my life: He's a dog and he likes doggy style. Go figure.

Severus and I had never done anal and quite frankly, even if we had, I was sure it would not have stopped the immense pain that I felt radiate through me as he forced himself into me.

The scream that came from me sounded inhuman. I didn't even have the strength to hold it back. I desperately hoped that Severus could not hear me.

The pain was great and black spots danced in front of my eyes, which I squeezed shut. There was an aching pain in my lower back as well.

It felt like hours, but couldn't have been more than ten minutes. By the time he was done, I was weak and half unconscious. I could smell sweat and blood, which was probably a bad thing. I let out a final whimper as he pulled out of me.

"What a sweet little thing." Greyback purred. His breath was terrible and his teeth so close to me made my neck throb in remembrance. "I can't wait until the Dark Lord lets you be mine."

I shuddered, but said nothing and moved not an inch as he exited the door. The cell door closed with a clang.

I laid there on the stones, feeling the coolness of them under my body. The pain had faded now. Mostly.

Now that I had gone through it, I wasn't actually all to sure I could get used to this. And what if Greyback was right? What if the Dark Lord handed me over to him?

I had to get out of here. I just had to figure out how.

⬅️➡️

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