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swordsandholly · 2 months

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Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part Nine: The Expo

Your eyes widen to saucers as you climb out of John’s work van. The event hall in front of you is huge - the largest in the city. A big, glass dome with a high-end hotel attached. It glows in the morning sun. Lines of people have already formed out front. You passed them on your way around to the vendor entrance. It’s the twentieth anniversary for the Tattoo Expo, apparently, which means they expect massive crowds.

“I hate that Kyle couldn’t come.” You frown as a security worker hands over your badge. It’s fancy - heavy weight with brightly colored, neo-traditional graphics. Something about having the word VENDOR hanging around your neck makes your heart skip.

John sighs, heaving one of the boxes of his books onto your dolly. “Yeah. He tried but he couldn’t get his head out of the toilet long enough to do much of anythin’.”

You wrinkle your nose. Apparently he had caught some nasty stomach bug, poor guy. You thought about calling and checking in on him, but you worried that was too clingy. After… everything, you don’t want to come off as anything other than normal about it. Which you are. Totally normal.

At least Johnny was home for the day to help him out.

“Has Simon ever come?” You ask, titling the dolly pack to push into the convention hall.

John’s arms flex as he fights with his rolling tool box to get the handle back out so he can pull it. He just had to wear a sleeveless muscle tee, didn’t he? It’s rude, frankly. You look over his more rarely exposed shoulder and upper arm pieces - some more faded than others. Some more colorful, some better crafted. Part of you wants to reach out - to trace them the same way you want to with Simon. You want to ask him in detail about each one. Maybe he’ll let you, someday.

“Can you actually picture Simon in a convention hall?” He chuckles eventually, finally getting the toolbox rolling properly.

You laugh. “Guess not.”

The 141 booth sits in the center of the floor, surrounded by a few other big-name shops and figures in the community. You glance around at them, only recognizing a few. You don’t get much time to look around. There are only a couple hours designated for set up and you have to help hang all the flash options, get the cash box sorted, and be ready for the flood when it comes. You’ve mentally prepared for chaos, reading through pretty much every reddit and twitter thread you could find about convention disasters. You know that won’t happen here, and even if something did, John wouldn’t abandon you to it. Still, you feel better being mentally prepared for anything - no matter how unrealistic.

“Why do you still do these?” You ask, pinning one of the large flash sheets to the display board. “I mean - you don’t exactly have to get your name out there.”

“I enjoy them- the community. I was here when this was still bein’ held underground in an old warehouse.” John looks around, eyes scanning the rows of artists. He doesn’t share his thoughts, just stands there quietly for a moment with his hands on his hips. After a few beats he grumbles quietly, “Gettin’ old…”

You focus on setting up the front table where you’ll be stationed. John brought a few prints of work as well as several copies of his book. He brought a few signed ones as well, only selling them for about twenty more bucks than the usual price. You asked why he doesn’t mark them up more, but he just shrugged you off with a mutter of ‘I’m not all that’ before moving on to another task. You decided it was best not to argue that he is, indeed, all that. His books are literally filled until the late fall.

Maybe you shouldn’t be so proud of setting up a decently aesthetically pleasing display all on your own when you’re surrounded by real artists, but you still grin wide with your hands on your hips. It’s simple, with cards for each of the boys lining one sit and a roll of tattoo tickets for the day beside the cash box. The table cloth with the shop’s name looks nearly identical to the sign. One might call it lazy marketing, you find it charming.

“Somethin’ happen with you and Kyle?” John asks suddenly, back turned as he messes with something in his rolling tool box full of supplies.

You freeze, eyes wide and mouth dry. Did Kyle say something? You thought you’d been normal about it. Kyle hadn’t acted any differently - which shouldn’t have hurt your feelings - and you were sure you’d met him with the same level of normalcy. The past weeks race through your mind. Every moment, every interaction, picking each apart into threads in milliseconds.

“Uh, no? Why?” It comes out squeaky. Unsure. Lord, you really are a terrible liar.

John hums. He’s quiet for barely a beat, a moment that seems to stretch for lifetimes. You can almost feel your cells aging while you wait. “You’ve been quieter than usual around him. Just wanted t’make sure.”

“Oh.” Had you? You thought you’d been the same as always. Both of you totally moved on from… the incident. Well, except for those few times you caught yourself staring - zoning out while thinking about the way his lips pressed to yours. Imagining Kyle pulling you into the back room again. Another kiss with less nervousness and more heat. Actually bending you over the desk properly-

“Y’with me, love?” John snaps you back to reality.

“Yeah!” You jump and stutter. “Yeah. No. We’re fine. I’m… fine.”

You wonder if the giant guy in the weird homemade mask at the booth across from yours would smash your head in if you paid him. Let him free you from the torment of embarrassment. It had been eating away at you, if you’re honest with yourself, and now lying right to John’s face just feels… awful. He’ll find out. You know he will. Maybe he already knows as that was a test. Fuck if it was, you totally just failed.

The clock turns to nine, and you have no choice but to let that be a problem for your future self.

Something you realize rather quickly as the attendees begin to flood the hall is that John is a god here. People don’t meet his eye. They speak meekly, even to you, with voices low and faces flushed. The line for your booth stretches down the walkway as soon as the doors open - appointment tickets practically flying out of your hands. You overhear a pair of friends muttering about sleeping outside overnight to get in early enough for John’s booth. It makes your head spin.

You wonder if they’d still act that way if they saw him snoring open-mouthed at the desk in the back room mid-afternoon.

“Thought I heard 141 got a new front desk girl.” A syrupy southern accident lilts above you just as you finish selling tickets. He’s handsome. Blonde and blue eyed with a little scar gracing his cheekbone. Not much younger than John, you don’t think. Probably around Simon’s age.

You slip on your usual customer service smile. “Hello! How can I-”

“Graves.” John grunts behind you, not even looking up from the work in front of him. “What d’you want?”

“Just wanted to come see how you were.” The man - Graves - grins wide. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “And to meet your new front of house. Philip.”

You take the hand he holds out, giving a perfunctory shake and your name. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that John doesn’t like this guy, whoever he is, and you’re inclined to trust his judgement. You opt for basic small talk. “Are you an artist?”

Graves nods. “I own Shadow & Co. It’s a few blocks over from your place.”

Oh. You’d heard of them. They came highly recommended when you were looking for artists in the area initially. In the end you opted for John based entirely on vibes. The Shadow building is far too modern - to minimalist - for your liking. Too corporate.

“Y’know, we’re looking for a new desk girl as well.” Graves smiles. You do your best not to sneer at his use of desk girl. “We’re growing pretty quick - even if you wanted to split your time-”

“She’s full time with us.” John snaps - blatant irritation lining the edges of his voice. He still doesn’t turn around.

The blonde man pauses, glancing between you. Something passes over his eyes - some implicit knowing that you don’t quite get - but it’s gone just as fast as it came. He digs into his pocket, flipping open a too-new wallet and pulling out a business card. “Well, if you ever want to work somewhere more exciting-” you nearly laugh at that. “-give us a call, hm?”

You glance up to his face, then back down at the card. John’s tattoo gun continues to buzz behind you, but you can tell he’s slowed down. He’s listening. Before even really thinking you extend your hand, pushing the card he holds away from you.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m very happy here.”

Philip scoffs, dropping the card on the table. “Keep us in mind, yeah?”

He disappears into the crowd easily - blending in just like his shop’s namesake. Your nose wrinkles. You snatch up the card and tear it in two. “Dickhead.”

You think you hear John chuckling behind you, but can’t be sure over the roar of the convention.

The day flies by - people bustle by your booth. You run out of signed books just over halfway through - prints not long after. Your voice feels hoarse from talking to so many people. The hall has grown quite hot and you’re sure that your hair looks insane at this point. Either way, you’re having a great time. You get to talk to a with full body trash polka that you like for some reason. You get to meet one of the people involved in the stage competition - her massive thigh piece holding some of the best color work you’ve ever seen. All in all, despite the discomfort, you think this ranks in your top ten favorite days. Maybe top five.

“Excuse me?” Murmurs a voice so soft you almost miss it entirely over the roar of the convention. When you look up, you’re met with a painfully young face. Definitely not old enough for the 17+ entrance requirement.

“Hi!” You put on your warmest smile. “How can I help you?”

“I, uh, I was just…” They stutter, shifting in place. “I- Are there any signed copies left?”

You look them over, a too-familiar pang in your chest. You know those eyes, that anxiety. The jumpy way they look around at the people passing by and tug at their sleeves. Your teeth sink into your lip and you look over at the three blanks that make up your entire left over stock. Glancing over your shoulder, you see John finishing with his current client - giving the man a firm handshake before turning to clean up his station. There’s a fifteen minute break until the next one - his last for the night - and as much as you don’t want to take up his precious little time to set up…

“Let me check!” You squeak, shaky as you grab one of the blanks with all the subtlety of a brick over the head and cross the few feet over to where John sits. You lean over to speak in his ear, low enough that the kid won’t hear you. “John?”

“Hm?” He hums, turning slightly on his stool.

“Can you sign this one?” You chew your lip. “I know you had a set amount but this kid looks so…”

He glances behind you at the teenager in question, bashfully staring at their feet.

“I’m sorry, I know you need to set up for the next-”

John cuts you off by taking the book from your hands and standing.

“Thanks, dove.” He gives you that lovely, warm smile and rolls his shoulders before making his way over to the front table.

The teenager’s eyes go so wide you think they might pop out of their head. You decide to hang back and not interrupt their moment. John sets the book on the table and grabs a sharpie from your back up stash of pens. The kid mumbles something you can’t understand. John’s voice lowers as well. You can’t hear them, but you watch John scrawl something in the book and hand it over. He pushes away the crumpled, messy wad of cash the teenager tries to give him, shaking his head and saying something else that you don’t catch. The kid looks like they’re about to cry, a wide, wet grin splitting their face as they say goodbye and practically prance away.

You melt, shoulders slouching and what you’re sure is a very stupid smile breaking out across your lips. You don’t know why you doubted him for even a moment.

“What’s that face?” John scoffs, cocking a brow at you.

“Nothing.” You shake your head and re-take your spot at the table.

The ending of the convention is rather uneventful. Some of the other booths begin clearing up early. You take the time to count the cash box - which is absolutely stuffed to the brim. John rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck about five times in the span of a few minutes. Maybe you could convince them to do a company yoga class. It’s easy to see how tense and tired they get. You file that idea away for later.

Luckily most of the booth set up belonged to the venue and, since you sold out of books and prints, you don’t have haul those back to the van. All you have to take is John’s rolling toolbox and tattooing table. All things that easily fit in your bag and dolly. Thank god. Neither of you speak much on the drive back to the shop - opting for comfortable silence. Your ears ring ever so slightly from the noise of the convention hall. When you were in it, you hadn’t realized just how loud it was. John’s eyes are locked on the road, the slight glow from the setting sun warming his skin.

The sun just disappears over the horizon as you put the last of the equipment in the backroom - stacked rather messily but that’s another problem for future you. You’ve been working for a grand total of fourteen hours and, somehow, it still has yet to hit you. Adrenaline and excited energy still pulse under your skin.

John sighs loudly, crossing each arm over his chest to stretch them out. “Could really go for a scotch right now. You want a nightcap?”

Your cheeks warm, still riding high from the excitement of the day you agree easily. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

He gives you a gentle smile, softened further by the low street lights. “Let me show you a spot.”

The place John leads you to is small. Local. You sit at the bar and take a moment to look around. Three pool tables take up half the floor space. It looks like a small tournament is going on - a white board showing the matches and who will go against who next. Two ski-ball machines are tucked in a corner beside the bathroom, currently taken up by two younger men who you aren’t completely sure are drinking age. The lights and music are both low. One of the bartenders is posted up on the opposite end of the bar with two other people watching Shin Godzilla on the mounted television. It’s cozy and oh-so very John Price.

You get an easy sipper, something fruity and sweet as a treat for the long day you’ve had. It’s nice against the warmth of the summer evening. A heat that’s only aggravated by the one that settles in your spine whenever the guys are around. John especially.

“Think that kid was a little young for the event…” You blurt in a poor attempt to make conversation.

John nods along. “Definitely.”

“That was really nice of you. I didn’t want to… I don’t know.” You murmur, unsure why exactly the words won’t stop. You blame the drinks and exhaustion. Seems realistic enough. “They just seemed so sad.”

“Wasn’t nice. Just the right thing t’do.” John shrugs. His words come slow, almost as if he’s unsure if he should say them. Though, you find it hard to believe he has ever been unsure about anything in his life. “I know what its like… to need t’escape. Lied about my age just to enlist.”

Your eyes widen. “R-really?”

He hums. “They didn’t care much back then.”

For some reason you never thought about John’s childhood - his homelife. You know he has a mom somewhere. Kyle let it slip a couple of times - said she’s a really good cook. John doesn’t volunteer information about himself often, you gathered that much. He’s worse than Simon, somehow, which says a fucking lot.

“Did-” you mull over your words. “You didn’t grow up around here, yeah?”

It’s a clumsy attempt at getting him to talk, but it works well enough. He nods. “Hereford. My mum’s still out there.”

Score. “Do you visit her much?��

John shrugs, chuckling. “When I can. I could move back home and it wouldn’t be enough for her.”

You snicker.

“She’s the best woman I’ve ever known…” He murmurs, eyes far away. It’s only for a moment, but they look past you. Defocused in a way that seems to out of character for the hyper-aware man.

Your faces are close. Hunched in like school kids exchanging secrets and gossip during recess. Your eyes dart from his to his lips and back. It’s confusing. All of this. The intimacy you have with each of them in these moments is overwhelming. You like Kyle - you liked kissing Kyle - you really shouldn’t be wanting that from your boss, though. A co-worker is bad enough but John… John is off limits. You know that. Even so, you find yourself subconsciously leaning just a bit closer, eyes roving over the freckles you don’t see standing further away and the grey flecks in his eyes. You think, for barely a millisecond, that he leans in too.

Until he sits up straight, tossing back what little is left of his drink. “Let’s head out. Could go for a smoke.”

You nod, swallowing down your thoughts and following him out of the bar like a lost puppy. You’d follow him to the end of the earth, you think. Even if it hurts that you can’t get as close as you want, you’d go anywhere for him. Yeah, that’s definitely the drink and tiredness talking. Part of you also knows that it is undoubtedly true.

John rounds a corner to the side of the bar. It’s moderately lit, a single street lamp just down the way giving you just enough light to see. You lean against the wall beside John, the exhaustion beginning to cling to your eyes.

“Are you?” John asks suddenly.

“Hm?” You hum, unsure of what he’s asking about.

“Happy here?” He cuts the end off a cigar he pulled from the silver box that lives in his back pocket.

In the low light of the alley, his pupils overtake most of his irises. Dark and intense as he looks you over from head to toe. You see it, suddenly. The god that the others do. He’s not as physically large as Simon, or as loud as Johnny, but he fills every inch of any space he enters regardless. You suppose you became so used to being in that radius that you forgot just how much presence he carries. You’ve wrapped yourself in it like a blanket. A shield.

Your cheeks warm and you shuffle your feet. “I… yeah.”

“Good.” John sighs out a cloud of smoke. “It’d be a pain in the arse to replace you. The boys care about you too much.”

You stare up at him. You can feel something on the edge of his tone - some weight that you don’t understand. There always seems to be another layer to the things he says. Implications that you can’t understand, context that you’re missing. Part of you wants to ask, needs to ask, but the words get stuck in your throat. What would you say? You’re not even entirely sure what you need to ask. You know they care about you, and you care for them in turn, so why does it feel like there’s something missing?

“Does the boys include you?” You blurt, one again wishing that big guy from the convention was here to smash your head in like wile e. cayote and the anvil.

He looks you up and down, slightly taken aback while you debate on bolting. “Thought that was obvious.”

You scoff, still flustered. “You’re hard to read.”

“Am I, now?”

You nod. A comfortable silence falls over you, despite the awkwardness surely emanating from you. Your lip catches between your teeth, eyes on your feet. “John?”

“Dove?” He tilts his head, once again leaning ever so slightly closer to you.

“Thank you. For everything.” You murmur, voice low and unsure. “It’s… it’s really good here.”

“Think nothin’ of it, love.”

You look up at those pretty blue eyes. They always make your chest ache with some deep hole you haven’t been able to pin down. At first you could blame it on wanting to do well - to be a good employee. It’s more than that, though. It starts in your chest and seeps it’s way through the rest of you. A want. A craving. That’s the word. You crave those eyes on you. The weight of his hands, the fortitude of him.

You’re not sure who closes the gap - whether it’s you or him - but either way it closes. It’s too natural for the context of your relationship. You slot together too well. It’s not like with Kyle. John carries an intensity with him that Kyle never could. His beard scratches not unpleasantly. His lips are warm - you can taste hints of scotch and his cigar. He smells of spice and earth. Your hands rest on his broad shoulders - unsure of where to put them.

This is wrong. It’s messy. You already lied about Kyle, which he’ll surely find out. If he hasn’t already. What about Johnny? Or Simon? Will they think less of you? Are you less for this? For impulsively kissing your boss in some back alley? Will Kyle be angry if he finds out? Your thoughts surge, all chaotic waves crashing against each other in an attempt to make sense of this situation you find yourself in.

John’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer into him. Your arms drape around his neck as you push onto your tips toes to meet him.

That’s a problem for future you.

A/N: Sorry this part took so long, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to escalate it or not but I want to get a move on with these boys

#poly 141 #poly 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #141 x reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price #captain price x reader #captain price #john price x you #john price x reader #john price #kyle gaz garrick x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #fem reader #plus size reader #fat reader

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bambikisss · 6 months

Text

Freaky : C.San x S.Mingi

💕: Rockstar Guitarist! Mingi x Model Reader x Rockstar drummer! San

📙: You were invited to Milan for fashion week and end up sitting in between two members of the world's biggest rock group ATEEZ, who also seem to have a thing for you: both of them.

⚠: Unprotected sex (keep it wrapped), threesome (mmf), Spit, oral (m + f receiving), dumbification (reader), multiple rounds, all over the hotel room lol, pink haired mingi, cocky san + mingi, mention of trying anal, mentions of voyeurism, smut with a hint of plot in the beginning

Bambi's notes: So, this was a journey to write, so you know that means smut without much plot lol this is for my sangi fans, because who wouldn't want to be sandwiched between San and Mingi?

Song: Freak - a - Leek by Petey Pablo, Slow down by Chase Atlantic

Taglist: @xhexy @mingisprincess @yeosangiess @itsvxlentine @biancaness @sanhwalvr @haebaragisworld @s-h-y-a @imgenieforyou-boy @therealcuppicake @certifiedmoa @scarfac3

@kitty4hwa @conwunder @wisejudgedragonhairdo @frobin4ever

REBLOGS + COMMENTS ARE WELCOMED AND ENCOURAGED

Milan, Italy.

You had been invited to participate in fashion week among the various other stars that attended the event. You were one of the people who reporters and other paparazzi were excited to see. You were one of the world's most popular models, after all: you were on the covers of multiple magazines and were the face of many brands.

So you were used to the flashing lights of the paparazzi and the reporters trying to pull you for an interview. You didn't mind, though, actually enjoying it.

"Y/N! Look over here please!"

You smiled, turning the other way so that the many cameras could capture your back and your face from a new angle. You were dressed to the nines and you were happy that everyone liked your outfit, especially since the designer was a good friend of yours.

You were soon escorted to your seat, having a front-row seat on the bright white runway you had grown used to walking on. You crossed your legs as you looked down at the various freebies the fashion show gave you, looking through the bright blue bag with interest in hopes of making the time flow by faster. You always found that just watching the show wasn't as interesting as walking was.

However, while you were so focused on your bag, you didn't notice the reporters and many paparazzi outside screaming and rushing at a long black limousine. The windows were darkly tinted, not allowing anyone to peek inside at the two stars who arrived. There had been rumors about two surprising stars attending the show tonight, but no one knew who. And now with the door opening, everyone got to get pictures of the stars.

"Mingi, San, can I pull you into an interview?"

San raised an eyebrow at the reporter before tapping Mingi's back, pointing to the interview area before whispering into his ear "Let's just do one interview like HongJoong said to."

Mingi rolled his eyes behind his dark sunglasses, not happy about having to do an interview. Mingi just wanted to hurry up and take pictures then get to his seat; he was all for attention and good press, but the flashing lights tonight were too much.

Mingi and San were part of the world-renowned boy band "ATEEZ," the rock band that took the world by storm almost 3 years ago. Now, they were at the top of their game, but that also meant that they had to attend events like these. Usually, HongJoong, Seonghwa, and Yeosang would go to events like these, but they all were too busy to fly out, so that left Mingi and San to go as the others were also busy.

You had just placed your bag back down underneath your chair filled with goodies when you noticed the men approaching you, their custom-tailored suits giving your mind a perfect image of what could be underneath.

While you were checking them out, San and Mingi were doing the same thing, their eyes shamelessly checking you out as they moved to their seats that were on either side of you. Even though Mingi was wearing shades and you were facing forward, you could feel their eyes on you, undressing you as the last stars took their seats. You wanted to ask them questions, but you didn't know how to take their sudden attraction to you.

"Can you three move closer for a picture?" Your mental turmoil was interrupted by the photographer who looked at you hopefully. You nodded, feeling Mingi's hand slide behind your back as he moved closer to you. You silently gasped as San did the same, both of the men's hands on your bare back, their fingers feeling anywhere they could as they smiled for the picture.

"What's your name?" Mingi was now whispering into your ear as the photographer scurried away, the lights dimming as the show was about to begin. Your first attempt at responding was cut off by your silent gasp as both men's hands slowly moved down your back, their hands now resting dangerously low on your back, a smirk moving onto their lips at the feeling of you subtly arching your back for them.

"Y/N." Your name made San whistle lowly, his voice full of charms as his hand moved up your back, allowing Mingi to touch your lower back while he got to feel your upper back, his hand playing with the clasp on your necklace as he spoke so only you, him, and Mingi could hear. "You're a supermodel, right? I've heard all about you. I think I even own some of your magazines covers. I've always found you so hot, you know."

You felt your body stiffen at his words: He already knew about you? You turned to face San, only for Mingi's hand to grasp your jaw, making you face forward again as he whispered into your ear "You can't be giving San all your attention, Beautiful. You have to share between us, do you think you can handle that?"

When Mingi first asked that question, you were quick to answer yes. You thought you could handle teasing and talking between them both. You had sat around meeting rooms and kept conversations going with multiple people, so what was so hard about keeping conversation with two men?

But, that wasn't what he meant.

"Look up at us, baby girl."

You thought nothing of hanging out with the two rock stars after the fashion show, their lingering touches on your body almost drawing you into them as they walked with you to their limousine with the tinted-out windows. The minute the doors closed, though, their hands returned to your body, not even caring about the driver as they whispered all the things they wanted to do to you, especially together. You spent one part of the car ride on Mingi's lap, meeting his lips in a heated kiss while San bit your neck, leaving marks behind while his hands felt around your body before you switched to his lap, Mingi's lips now busy kissing your open back while San's tongue locked with yours in a heated kiss. They were skilled at riling you up, as if they'd done it before. You wouldn't put it past them, though.

But, now that they had you in their private suite in their hotel on your knees before them on the bed, you felt even more excited. Mingi licked his lips, turning to face San before he nodded his head, moving to get on the bed in front of you. He tilted his head as you turned around to watch San as he sat down in the chair facing the bed, making you feel confused. However, your view of him was pulled away as Mingi made you face him, his thumb moving along your bottom lip as he shook his head. "Don't look at San, babygirl. You have to worry about me first."

You nodded as your lips met Mingi's, the kiss picking up speed as San cursed from his chair, his hand moving to his pants. You couldn't help but kiss Mingi harder at the sound of that plus San unbuckling his pants. Mingi smirked, pulling back as his hands grabbed your wrists, placing your hands onto his own belt as he faced San with a proud smirk. "Seems like our little model likes hearing you, Sannie. I think she's getting excited."

"Oh, I think so Mingi" San rested his head back on the chair with a lazy smile, his hands now palming himself over his boxers as he watched you unbuckle Mingi's pants, your hands tugging away at it. You weren't even listening anymore as you leaned down to kiss and bite on Mingi's thighs as he pushed down his pants, making him hiss before his hand moved into your hair, making you look at him. Mingi didn't say anything, his eyes however showed how he felt though, darkening as he pushed down his boxers to reveal his hard cock. Mingi's hand moved from your hair to your lips, playing around with your lips till he spread them open, spitting into your mouth before humming.

"You're so pretty, babygirl. I can see why you're a model" Your eyes fell to Mingi's lip as he spoke, whimpering softly as he kissed you, both of your tongues meeting as you moaned, making Mingi moan as well. You whined as he pulled back, wanting more of his kisses. Mingi shook his head though, sitting back up as his fist wrapped around his cock, holding it to your lips. You knew what to do, about to dip your head down to taste his hard cock when Mingi's grip on your hair returned, stopping you. Instead, Mingi stood up from the bed, pulling you to the edge before he said "Make sure you get nice and loud for us, baby girl. Show me and San how good you can suck cock, and if you do good, we'll reward you."

You nodded, opening your mouth as Mingi fed his thick cock into your mouth slowly, both of you moaning at the feeling. Mingi felt so heavy, making you feel excited: you were no virgin, but none of the guys you had been with compared to how good Mingi's cock felt, even if it was just in your mouth.

"That's it baby, suck it." Mingi's voice had dropped even deeper, closing his eyes as you moved your tongue around his cock, bobbing your head at the same time, making him moan louder. "You're doing so, so good for me. That's right, take it deeper"

"Look at you, baby" You had been so focused on sucking Mingi and hearing his moans that you had almost forgotten about San, your eyes landing on him as he spoke to you, his cock leaking now as he had stripped himself. You moaned at the sight, the vibrations making Mingi moan loudly before he reached over to smack your ass, cursing that you were doing so fucking good. San chuckled at the sight of you staring up at him while Mingi was now fucking your throat, stretching you out with his cock.

"You must be so good at sucking dick, baby. I mean, you got Mingi short-circuiting and fucking your throat like you're a fleshlight," San laughed, Mingi's cheeks heating up a bit at his friend's teasing, but his pace didn't slow down. Instead, he picked up speed, making you choke. At the sound of you gargling around his cock, both boys moaned before Mingi pulled out to let you catch your breath. However, your break wasn't long before San rolled you over onto your back, straddling your chest as Mingi moved in between your legs.

"Don't look so nervous, baby" San cooed, his hands massaging your breasts as Mingi spread your legs, making you shiver. Suddenly, you closed your eyes and tossed your head back as you felt Mingi's tongue run slowly up your pussy before he moaned around your clit, pulling back to moan "Fuck, San, she's so wet for us. She's so excited."

"You're excited, huh?" San asked, gripping your hair to pull you back up to meet his eyes while Mingi got to work on eating you out, slurping away as his tongue tasted you. You nodded, moaning at Mingi's movements while San cooed again "I bet you are, our little filthy slut. You're a freak, just like us, huh? You acted all innocent when we proposed taking us both like this in the car, but now look at you." San licked his lips as he tightened his grip on your hair, pushing his cock into your mouth as Mingi continued to eat you out, pushing his finger into you.

"Mingi's finger and tongue is going to match the pace you set, baby" San hissed, leaning back with his free hand to place it onto Mingi's shoulder. Mingi looked up from your pussy, his eyes staring into yours as you began to bob your head on San's cock, moaning when his tongue began to match your pace: anytime you sped up, he sped up, and whenever you slowed down, he did the same.

San moaned above you, enjoying the show as he kept a firm grip on your hair and a grip on Mingi's shoulder. "Look at her, Mingi, look at how fucking dirty she is for us. Fuck, I can't wait to fuck that pussy" San had now tossed his head back at this point, knowing that if he watched anymore, he'd cum on the spot. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing his cock down into your throat as deep as he could as you moaned loudly around it, Mingi's tongue mirroring San's cock by shoving his tongue as deep as he could into your pussy. Mingi rolled his eyes back, moaning as your pussy squelched around his tongue, curling his tip to nudge your sweet spot, making your legs shake a bit around him.

San couldn't think about anything else, his hand moving back to grip his pink-haired friend's hair, shoving him deeper into your pussy as you gurgled around his cock, your eyes rolling back as San sped up his pace, watching the drool leak from the side of your lips, now mixing with his cum as he came in your mouth, your legs wrapping around Mingi's head as you came as well.

Mingi cleaned you up happily while San slowly pulled out from your mouth, cooing as you swallowed his cum. Mingi slowly kissed up your body, his hands moving to massage your cheeks as San sat next to you. You felt like you were in a daze, laying your head next to San's knee while Mingi slowly got off the bed. San leaned down to kiss you, praising you for being able to take his cock so well against your lips. You smiled at his praise, moaning his name in the kiss before sitting up.

You sighed as you got off the bed, looking for your clothes while San got off the bed as well. You didn't bother to look at the two men, assuming that they were getting dressed as well. "What do you think you're doing?"

You paused picking up your dress off the ground at Mingi's voice, turning to see him standing by the large windows, his arms behind his back, his cock twitching between his legs as he raised an eyebrow. You bit your lip, noticing how San has returned to his chair, his hand now palming his soft cock. "I thought..."

"You thought wrong, baby." Mingi smirked, tapping the window before he said "I don't know what made you think that, but I still need to cum, especially in that fucking perfect pussy of yours." Mingi walked over to you as he spoke, his hand landing on the small of your back before he pulled you close, his lips pressing against yours as he pulled your clothes from your hand. You were once again at his mercy as he led you to the windows, his hands moving around your curves before he had you face the window. You met his eyes in the reflection, his chest now pressed against your back as his cock moved in between your soft thighs, a proud mumble coming out of his lips as he smacked your ass.

"Don't tease her so much, Mingi. She can barely even stand up" San piped up making Mingi chuckle. He nodded though, pressing a kiss to your cheek before he pushed into your pussy, chuckling when your hands rushed to the window. "There's nothing for you to grab on there, baby" Mingi laughed, his pace speeding up to become one of power as he watched your body jolt forward at every thrust, your sinful moans becoming music to both men's ears.

"Is our baby having trouble thinking and telling us what she wants?" San asked, standing up from his chair to approach where Mingi had you, his hands moving to play with your nipples, tugging on it. He chuckled as you moaned loudly, looking at Mingi as your back arched. "She's so fucked out already, maybe she can't handle more, Mingi"

"No, I can" You protested loudly, Mingi's hand landing a hard spank on your ass while moaning out "Yeah, she can handle more, fuck." You had closed your eyes at this point, your legs almost giving out due to the pleasure.

Mingi chuckled at the sight, pulling out from your pussy as you whined, grabbing your arms to pull you to the coffee table that sat in front of the couch that was in the corner of the suite, pressing your chest down against the cool table as he shoved his cock back into your pussy, both men moaning loudly as your pussy loudly squelched around him. "Your pussy welcomes me back in so loudly, baby. It wants my cock, baby, sucking it in so fucking well."

You nodded, San moving to crouch in front of you, smirking at your already fucked out face.

"I think she needs more, Mingi."

----------------------------------------------------------------

"God you're so fucking greedy."

You could no longer tell who was who as you laid against his hard chest, the other one still fucking deep into your pussy. You and the two men had been all around the room, your body and cum on many different surfaces, making you feel bad for whoever had to clean this room when they checked out.

San was laying against the floor, your body on top of his as Mingi fucked you from behind. You bit your lip as Mingi landed another spank on your ass, spreading apart your cheeks so he could go even deeper into you, his rings leaving imprints on you as you moaned loudly. You were out of your mind at this point, San chuckling at the sight before he said "You're so fucked out, you can't even tell who is who, can't you? You don't know whose cock you're backing up against and whose chest you're drooling onto. You just wanna keep coming until you pass out, don't you?"

"She tightened around me when you said that, San" Mingi moaned, your cheeks heating up as San cooed at you, landing his own smack to your ass as he moaned out "She's a freak, just like us. We should keep her on speed dial and fly her out to us whenever we want. We could buy you some pretty lingerie and make you model it for us. We could even invite the rest of our band members to come watch"

Mingi had lost his own mind a while ago, but at San's words, he felt his cock twitch at the idea, leaning forward to bite down on your shoulder, drilling into your pussy as you moaned even louder, San gripping your face to make you look at him while he continued speaking. "You'd love that, wouldn't you? You don't care how wrong this is, don't you, you like this. Maybe I'll even buy you a pretty custom butt plug and send it to you, make you stretch yourself out so that we both can fuck you at the same time."

"I'm gonnna...I" You gasped out, cuming hard around Mingi's cock as he filled you up, both of your releases coating his cock and leaking from your cunt as he kissed your back, rubbing your sides. You were completely spent, landing on San's hard chest as he ran his hands through your hair, cooing at you.

"You did so well, babygirl. Here, I'll clean you up." San waited till Mingi moved off your back before picking you up, carrying you to the bathroom (where they had fucked you an hour before), placing you onto the toilet before turning the shower on. "Go ahead and use the bathroom, then I'll shower with you."

After the shower, San carried you back into the bedroom, placing you down on the bed as Mingi had put down new sheets. As you lay down in the warm sheets, Mingi and San went to clean up themselves, letting you fall asleep in the bed. You only woke up when you felt Mingi hug you from behind, San slipping in front of you to offer you a smile before placing a kiss onto your lips, Mingi waiting till San stopped before moving your head back to kiss him as well.

The next morning when you woke up, you were no longer sandwiched between the two men, but you were alone. You sat up, running your hand through your hair as you tried to figure out if it was a dream or not. You sighed as you fell back against the bed, grabbing your phone to see a text from your manager letting you know that checkout was in two hours and to start getting ready to fly back to the States soon.

You hummed, giving yourself a few minutes before you stood up from the bed, walking over to your suitcase. However, before you could go shower, you heard a knock at the door, followed by room service being wheeled into your room. The table was full of various fruits and breakfast, a beautiful bouquet of flowers in the center. When you picked up the flowers, you noticed a small card, the words on it making you smile.

'See you soon, baby. We'll be waiting for you ;) P.S: Hope your legs don't hurt too badly. M + S'

EXTRA

"Raise your hips, princess. Show me where you want my cock to go" You bit your lip as you raised your hips, your wetness leaking from your pussy, making Mingi moan. He considered himself addicted to your pussy, constantly wanting nothing more than to shove his hard cock into it and just ruin you. Heck, Mingi had even flown you out over the past couple months to whereever they were performing at to just do that as 'the pictures weren't enough for him.' Not that you were complaining.

You cursed softly as Mingi pushed his cock into you, his lips meeting yours as he picked you up to have your sit on his lap as he fucked up into you, his lips locked with yours.

"I knew I'd find her in here with you" San sighed, walking into the room as you turned from Mingi's lips, offering him a smile as Mingi continued to fuck up into you as he groaned out "you're just mad that you didn't get to her first, man. You had some of her on the plane, anyways. This is my first round with her"

San hummed as he kissed you, his hand moving to play with your breasts as you began to ride Mingi's cock, making him moan louder. "I wasn't complaining, just make sure you don't ruin her too much: I wanna take her outside and fuck her in the pool."

San and Mingi had flown you out to the Bahamas for your birthday, renting a private villa so that no one could see nor hear the three of you as you all went about your ''activities" together.

You bit your lip as you placed your hands onto Mingi's chest to ride him better, San's hands moving to grip your hips to help you as you tossed your head back onto his shoulder, kissing below his jaw as Mingi moaned at the sight. "Fuck, you're going to make me cum already. You learned so quickly how to ride my cock, princess."

"Well," San smirked, meeting your lips in a deep kiss, making out with you as your ground your hips down against Mingi's, San pulling back to make you look at Mingi, gripping your face as he said "She had some really good teachers. Isn't that right, Y/N? All you care about is riding our cocks and making us feel good, don't you?"

Mingi moaned loudly as you nodded, San's smirk growing before he whispered into your ear "then go ahead and make Mingi cum, baby. Then, you're going to sit on his face and we're going to teach you how to take care of both of our cocks at the same time. We've got all week, baby to go all around this villa, and we're not stopping."

Bambikisss | 2024

893 notes · View notes

usedpidemo · 6 months

Text

Stargazing (Twice Mina)

With the way things are going, Mina’s begging for trouble. And not the usual slap of the wrist kind that celebrities get away with—the kind that’s scandalous, career damning.

She’s so close to falling apart.

And as you watch her come undone—the very image that defines her gradually disappears—you can’t help but think: she deserves this.

—————

If there’s any clear-cut takeaway, it’s this: Mina is designed to be gorgeous, and she plays the part to near perfection.

That’s the whole point. Here’s a sea of media outlets and paparazzi, accompanied by flashing cameras and screaming fans on one side. On the other, stars and figures from different fields, all dressed to the nines and emanate a distinguishable aura. The ‘I’m better than you’ kind. No amount of modest smiles and perfectly curated PR-fluff can disguise the noxious air of celebrity on the red carpet.

Then you look at Mina, wearing the hell out of that backless dress, designed by none other than yours truly (you). You couldn’t have asked for a better muse. She carries herself and your brand around with a confident smile—with pride—seemingly indifferent to the raucous screams telling her to look this way, that way. Wherever her profile turns, cameras illuminate the crowd in near-perfect unison.

It’s a slow motion fashion moment.

As if she couldn't look any prettier, she brushes her hair with a quick, delicate swipe of her hand with queenly grace. The cameras live for moments like these. It’s what goes viral online; it’s what gets social media buzzing. She’s a K-pop idol, the media will say and it’s true, but she doesn’t look out of place with the so-called elite. If anything, she blends in seamlessly, rich, quiet, and enigmatic personality and all.

Cameras continue to follow her as she walks through the carpet. She greets a few other celebrities in the vicinity; mostly Hollywood actresses and artists before she disappears behind the steps of the building. Throughout the entire ordeal, you were never on her mind, not even during interviews, nor when she was in clear view, even though you made her what she is now. All she can think about is herself and her character. That’s how fame works.

You don’t even get a text. Your only reference is a note that reads 23:00.

—————

The next time you see Mina is hours later, at the promised time. One slender leg enters the backseat of the vehicle. She remains mostly untouched, leaving the gala looking the same as when she entered. She’s considerate enough to wave and give a flying kiss to the crowd, who unsurprisingly, go crazy for her. It’s a convincing act. You would, too, if you weren’t always by her side for ninety percent of the day.

She breathes out this deeply relieved sigh once the door slams shut. She’s tired—of being someone else, and just exhausted in general; she’s been in front of a mirror since five in the morning and it’s almost midnight by the time the event ends. You can tell she’d rather be in her hotel suite than anywhere else.

So you drive. No words. Just hit the road and get out of there.

Even late into the night, Paris is still bustling and lively. You don’t make it past three streets before being met by traffic ahead. It’s an agonizing crawl. The satnav says you’ll arrive at your hotel by 2:00 in the morning. Mina probably won’t make it by midnight, at this point because she’s on the verge of falling unconscious, resting her head on the door. Her heels are set on the opposite end, with her lower half resting along the edges of the backseat into a couch position.

Even when she’s asleep, she’s still gorgeous.

“Miss?” you gently call to her, snapping her from her tired daze. She gives you a mild stare through the rear-view mirror, unable to speak.

“We’re gonna be held up by traffic. You want something to eat?” you ask, knowing she likely won’t take anything more than a handful of fries or half a burger.

“Sure. Whatever.” Mina sounds cold, a little annoyed somewhat. The past day has been unkind to her health; she arrived at the airport yesterday after a different schedule and barely had less than five hours of rest before dedicating the entire day for a gala she had contractual obligations to attend. She couldn’t say no even if she wanted; she’s got her whole schedule curated and planned out for months.

You have more time to get her dresses planned out and prepared out than she has to breathe.

And time is unkind to both of you right now. Traffic trogs along at a snail’s pace. The arrival time on the satnav moves further and further away. Sunrise will meet you above a red light at this rate. How anyone gets around in this city considering the number of events that are happening all at once is beyond you. You only drive through Paris a handful of times a year, all for the same reason, and you abhor the idea—let alone the experience—every single time.

It’s difficult enough to wait, especially in this late of hours, when money and careers are on the line. Even more challenging is keeping a cool head and withholding yourself from using your instincts against the trusted systems of the algorithm. Mina will call you many things. She’ll call you insane. You don’t mind; it’ll be on the lower end of insults and comments you’ve heard from the so-called ‘elite.’

At the end of the day, you’re just simply following orders.

You swerve off the main road, into narrow alleys and streets that aren’t registered on any official map. Anywhere that can give you a sense of progress and hold momentum. You drive. You make liberal use of your klaxon against anything and anyone. You go around in circles, sometimes looking at the satnav if it’s kind enough to give you a shorter, quicker path. In your haste, you completely overlook the star, the celebrity you’re meant to protect and coddle like fine art, and cracks begin to form.

“Shit!” Mina fastens the seatbelt, in distress and wide awake from your uncharacteristically aggressive driving. She lifts her head. Pierces your gaze through the rearview mirror with a mixture of panic, concern, and frustration. All that hours spent in the makeup room to look perfect, down to the smallest of details, coming undone within a few minutes.

She seemed rather proud of her appearance, too.

Of course, her demands bounce off your ears—or ring through like white noise. You only know your task. Get her safe.

Even though it’s your very idea, you forget about the thought of eating, too. You’ve passed by a couple of McDonalds along the way, but are blinded by tunnel vision to recognize a single one. It’s not a big loss; she’s as tired of eating fast food as much as you are. It isn’t good for her image right now, either.

Eventually, you do make it back to her hotel. A little over midnight, but still not as early as you wanted to be. You look at the status of your passenger princess. She’s about as coddled as a five year old playing with her doll. A mess.

When you open up the door for her to step out, it’s a dramatic moment that gathers everyone’s attention and fixes every eye. It’s loud.

It also so happens to be empty in the area.

The way she slaps you in the cheek echoes throughout the valet like the sharp crack of a whip, or the pop of a firework. Fucking hell, she hits hard. For a dainty woman like Mina, she’s surprisingly strong. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she snaps, cold and bitter.

You find no mistake in what you did. In fact, you believe you’re doing her a service. Tomorrow, she’ll be at the airport and out of the country faster than when she came in. She doesn’t have to think about you for the foreseeable future. You only see a moody, ill-tempered celebrity frustrated that circumstances haven’t gone her way. Chalk it up to fatigue, but you can’t be arsed to explain yourself or react accordingly at this point.

She’s also pretty when she’s angry, you can’t help but think. Not the pouty, cute, wholesome kind—the ‘I’m gonna rip your throat’ out kind of ire. Sometimes you forget your job and admire just how gorgeous Mina is. You’re no different than the paparazzi or the average fan.

It makes her heated. You’re mentally smirking.

It would be a waste to fight over something as petty as reckless driving this late. No one got hurt; not a single traffic light or speed limit was violated. But her heart jumped a little bit when she expected the least. In her eyes, it’s a reasonable enough incident to show some attitude and assert her status over you.

But not tonight.

Instead, you take her by the wrist and lead her to the alley beside the hotel, away from potential cameras and prying eyes. She yelps, but you slip a hand around her mouth so she remains quiet. Mina is too tired to show some resistance.

“Listen here, Miss Myoui,” you tell her, pointing your finger directly at her. “I did everything right to make sure you have a fine, comfortable experience in Paris. Did your dress, drove you around, everything. What I did was save you a few hours of sleeping in the car. I never asked for anything from you, so don’t come acting like an ungrateful brat.”

“Fuck you.” Mina raises her palm, readying another thunderous, face cracking slap as a threat. “I could have done all that instead if I wanted to.”

“Need I remind you who made the dress that you’re wearing?”

She freezes, unable to find some form of retaliation or rebuttal.

“Thought so.”

“Well what am I supposed to do, then? Get on my knees and worship you as my lord and savior?” she asks.

Suddenly, something clicks inside your head. An idea.

“That—” you pause, mentally noting the entire sequence in a flash, “Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”

“I’m not doing it.” Mina rolls her eyes, turning her gaze away and crossing her arms. Somehow, she’s managed to recognize your intent so quickly. What isn’t surprising is her natural cleverness and intelligence. “Not tonight. Not after what you did.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

��That’s what you believe, asshole.” She shakes her head. “Just—let me go.”

“Would be such a shame if a rumor spread around then that you were spotted in the bathrooms with one of the billionaires,” you say, blunt in your threat. “Wouldn’t you hate that? I hear there was a tabloid photo of you spotted with one of the presidential candidates too—”

“You lie.” Mina’s eyes glare at you. You don’t flinch.

She’s not wrong. You’re only telling a half-truth. It’s true that there were billionaires who attended. It would be a strange event if there weren’t any present, in Paris of all places. The report of a presidential candidate showing up is legitimate as well, but that’s as much as you know as the general public. What goes on inside, you have no knowledge of.

“And what happened there was nothing at all,” she adds. “So quit trying to blackmail me and just let me fucking rest.”

“Then explain this to me.” You point at the dress she’s wearing—your dress—and find different sized patches where they shouldn’t belong. They’re not by design; they’re clearly the result of some kind of external tampering or meddling. Around where her legs should be. Near her tummy. The gala is an indoor event, yet it looks as if she had been soaked in some capacity.

Something’s quite off.

“So?” Mina defends herself, unwilling to concede. “Got spilled by drinks, and you don’t really care if it gets ruined.”

While it’s true you usually don’t mind your dresses getting ruined, it comes at a price. “I’m not mad. And yes, I don’t care if you do fuck all with that dress. Hell, that candidate is very lucky he got to clap that—”

“Shut up!”

By instinct, Mina slaps you again.

You chuckle. The sore redness of your cheek isn’t going to silence you.

As she tries to walk away, you grab her by the wrist again. Pull her close to your chest. She trembles, but can’t do anything to stop or shake you loose.

“So you admit? You got fucked by that candidate?”

“No!” Mina remains adamant in her tone. She twists your grip to free herself. “Just—fucking stop already!”

“Only if you blow me. Just a quickie.”

“What? Why?”

“As remittance for the ruined dress, of course. Remember? Ruined dress, ruined cunt.” You can’t help but grin as you remind her of the terms of your agreement. It’s not written in the contract, but a mutual trust shared between you and your muses.

Mina sighs. A deal is a deal, even if it’s not signed on the dotted line. And she has the experience to show for it. Ultimately, she reluctantly agrees, sounding defeated in her response. “Fine. But after this, we’re fucking done.”

“I’m in a bit of a good mood today, so I don’t want your pussy,” you tell the disgruntled Mina, unbuckling your belt then unzipping your pants. “Not gonna lie, the thought of some future president fucking that cunt of yours makes me sick. Get on your knees.”

God, it feels wrong, but you’re enjoying every little moment of this, down to the finer details. The look of dissatisfaction on Mina’s face. The fact you can get her flustered with your teasing. The fact she’s obediently on her knees as you whip out your hard cock directly in front of her. She can tell you as many lies as she wants, but they have no firm ground to stand on. She’s not some stuck-up star unlike many others in that gala, but even she needs to be humbled once in a while.

“His dick is better than yours, anyway. I won’t miss this pathetic piece of shit,” she tells you, gripping to the hem of your dress, dodging every attempt to slip your shaft between her lips.

All the more reason to plunge it deep in her throat.

“Is it? This piece of shit you love to ride on?” You grab your cock and pursue her evasive mouth. You have a hand planted on her scalp, holding her still, as she begrudgingly accepts your length between her lips slowly, in a losing effort to fight back. She gulps her throat, watching as her cheeks hollow, as drool begins to coat your sensitive shaft, until eventually, her seal is vacuum-tight and tension builds up in your groin. “This cock you want to use—fuck—”

Words fail you as you become reacquainted with the warmth of Mina’s mouth. She bobs her head back and forth, slipping a hand around the base of your shaft to stroke. Your cock is poking the back of her throat, your senses relaxing at the pleasure coursing through your body. You feel yourself slipping away—at the cold, at the heat of her sweltering lips, at the layer of saliva that fills every inch of your length. It’s all too much.

This is Mina’s least favorite position. She’d rather have you beneath her most of the time, relentlessly bouncing on your cock till you’re completely drained; it’s how most encounters with her go to the point you simply give up and expect yourself on the mattress as soon as you enter her room. None of that matters now, not when she needs your very shaft to fill her thirsty, dry mouth, as a palette cleanse from the boring gala and because she needs you as much as she utterly hates you.

She doesn’t like the thought of you above her. Her eyes can’t be bothered to look up. It’s a strange dynamic; she’s the celebrity, she’s supposed to have control, not you. Your hand tugs on her black hair, begging her for more, and it reinforces the idea. You love this. Mina, the quiet, cold personality that everyone wants to be like, is zealously sucking you off and you’re helpless to how incredible she is. The suction of her throat. The drag of her tongue on your head, then on the sides. The passionate hum of satisfaction. You recognize the smug grin etched on the corner her lips while she doesn’t bother to look back, knowing full well she can take you any way she wants and you’ll fucking love it. She’s so aggressive, yet perfectly paced.

And she moves like she can read your mind—cum and saliva dripping from the corners, her tongue running laps around your balls, her mouth devouring you entirely with each entrance. Small, whiny sounds that resemble a choke—they’re nothing compared to the echoey moans you can’t help but make. You’re gasping for air as if she’s punctured a hole in your lungs—and to an extent, she has. Your body instinctively has to remind itself they’re leaning on air, because she’s making your spine contort in ways they shouldn't be twisting.

Mina is quite used to this. The notion of having to suck a cock. Not just yours, but fans, higher-ups in suits, all kinds. She’ll tell you yours is the best one, and you’ll believe her. You can tell by personal experience. You shouldn’t let control slip, especially now, when such power is rarely vested on you, but you can’t help yourself. There’s some urgency in handling her, but it might be a little too late. Especially when—

“Mina,” you pant, and you sound so desperate. “So close, Mina. I’m so close. I’m gonna—”

She continues to create friction, and eventually fire. Her hands wring around your balls and your base, tightening the coil of pressure in your stomach and in your veins. Spiraling further and further out of control, you can feel your legs crumble in a last ditch attempt to hold on. With your remaining resolve, you cling to whatever semblance of clarity you can find.

And she plunges her lips further into your length. Her tongue descends lower, to the underside of your balls. None of that disdain and hate from moments ago can be found, only zeal and passion. It’s not graceful in the slightest; it goes against everything her image represents, yet she’s so damn good at it, you can’t stomach the thought of her doing something this filthy, this obscene. The very idea breaks reality. Yet here she is, on her knees, a mouth filled by cock, encouraging you to cum without uttering a single word.

So you oblige her.

You don’t give her the decency of asking. You just pour it all over her with reckless abandon. Yanking her by the scalp, swiftly pulling yourself away in the heat of climax, blasting thick warm seed all over her pristine features, using her visage as a canvas for all your repressed thoughts. Mina welcomes every drop, sticks her tongue out with an inviting stare, unfazed by all that hot load you’re shooting directly at her. Her professionalism is practically hardwired, second nature to allow herself to be used this freely. It’s more than personal satisfaction; it also pays the bills.

It’s a win-win.

“Happy?” she asks, propping herself back on her feet, using the top of the dress to clean herself. Not a waste when it’s sole purpose is to be one and done.

The mess around your groin—residue sticking on your pants—answers her question. You can only nod in agreement as you clumsily and slowly gather your bearings. She shakes her head, amused at your predicament, but proud of her work.

Mina acts nonchalant, walks back to the hotel while you still work through your trousers, as if nothing ever happened. As if you weren’t moaning in public about how airtight her lips are around your cock. You hurriedly follow her, only to be met with a surprise waiting just past the entrance doors.

“I hope Paris has been kind to you so far, Miss Minari, because we certainly won’t be.”

Three comically mischievous men of similar stature and appearance, in nearly identical outfits (a simple shirt, coat, jeans and beret combination, how inspired) with the most cartoonishly evil looks on their faces. They could be anyone on the street. You can immediately tell they’ve been waiting for some time.

“Who are you?” you ask, stepping in front of your client. Mina looks nervous, quietly analyzing the three suspicious characters.

“Doesn’t matter who we are, even if we tell you,” replies the middle man, matter-of-factly. “We have no intention of hurting you.”

“If that’s the case, then please step aside. Miss Mina won’t be taking any requests and she’s very tired, sorry.”

“I don’t think so, buddy.”

“What?”

“We heard everything. You lucky bastard,” says the man on the left. “I don’t think Mina seems to be tired at all. In fact, I believe she wants more of it!”

All eyes turn to the person of interest, who seems to be in denial. Mina, this cold, calculated star, appears to have a harsh, sudden reaction. Offended by the comment, she angrily retorts, “No? What the hell are you saying?”

“Yeah, you heard the guy.” The third man steps forward, the other two close behind slowly approaching her. “It’s all over you. Don’t try to deny it. You enjoyed getting blasted all over that pretty face of yours!”

The three men nod in unison. You don’t have a firearm or any weapon on hand, but you’re willing to fight all three guys, even if you meet a terrible end. That’s the likeliest outcome. Lady luck seems to have disappeared on your side, but it’s part of the job, after all.

“Relax, girl. Again, we don’t wish to hurt you or your bodyguard.” The first man, the guy assuming leadership reiterates. It’s as civil and diplomatic as it sounds, but the looming threat remains prevalent. And it doesn’t do them any favors when they creep up towards both of you like wolves. “We just want what he has.”

“And what is it?” Mina frowns, hiding herself behind you, peeking over the shoulder, trembling.

“Oh, you know what we want, Miss Minari. Give it to us and then we’ll leave you alone.”

Where’s the security in this hotel, you wonder? The ground floor is dead empty of guests, which is to be expected, there’s hardly anyone at the front desk, and there are zero guards at the valet that normally wait for the next car to pull up. It’s midnight, what did you expect?

“Can’t I give you guys some money instead?” she pleads, desperate. She’s no longer hiding herself, but standing side by side with you. Shaking. Nervous. “Name your price and I’ll pay it.”

“I don’t think that will work, miss.” The three men remain adamant. They have you trapped against the corner of the entrance door. Neither of you can hardly move, let alone run. “We’re in Paris. We can easily rob anyone for our keep.”

Judging by the rather expensive watches and sneakers they all sport, they seem to have a point.

“But please, we just want one. One round with the finest Japanese idol in the business. That’s it,” the first man adds, his cohorts nodding in agreement.

Mina turns to you, calling your attention. “Hey.” You’re on high alert, waiting for the moment for hell to break loose. She merely stares. Nothing comes out of her mouth, just an expressive, seemingly strange gaze that doesn’t register anything in your head, nor does it open up any sort of interpretation. And for a while, you don’t understand what’s happening or what’s her intent. The three guys seemingly wait, shrugging whenever you eye any one of them. There’s no rush; time seems to stop at that particular moment. You know their demand; you have ears. You just don’t know if Mina is actually serious about caving to the pressure.

—————

(And fucking hell, you’re so—so—screwed.)

You don’t know if Mina will recover after this. Specifically, her career.

Clothes scatter everywhere in the room, with no regard for cleanliness or the host’s decency. Mina is set in the middle of the mattress as its centerpiece. The star of the show. Her dress is bundled around her waist, baring her chest and legs, while every man is completely in the nude. She’s spread on her fours, with the two subordinates lined up parallel in front of her, the third right behind her. You plan to join after, when everyone’s seemingly tired, when you can have her all to yourself.

At least, that’s what you think will happen. You know she’s going to get used all night long. Mina’s bracing for impact, hoping she can walk out in one piece after this.

You’re holding your phone, ready to record every little thing that happens. It’s not by their request, but your own personal desire. You love seeing it—the notion of Mina getting her comeuppance. The two men in front of her waste no time, stroking themselves hard and slapping their cocks right into Mina’s face, spilling flecks of precum on her. You notice the giddiness in their expressions as they incline the idol’s chin up, nothing but unbridled lust on their faces. The only thing missing is hurling her around and ragdolling her.

“Such a pretty face deserves all this cum,” says the second guy. He’s on the pudgier side, evidently not meant to be in the same atmosphere, let alone the same bed as Mina. “I’ll have you know you were my bias, and you have the most numbers on my counter.”

Utterly shameless.

Meanwhile, the first guy, his colorful body filled with numerous tattoos, slaps Mina’s cheek hard. It ripples throughout her lithe figure, rattles the bed a little. She keens. He takes a moment to look at the hand that committed the sinful act. He’s shaking, in disbelief. He did that. It’s a moment in time, a monumental occasion. Anyone else in his position would be shouting in the streets, celebrating too.

You would.

The third guy, this aged man who’s evidently in his mid-to-late forties and probably shouldn’t be consuming K-pop, continues to stroke himself to Mina’s face. Too bad her mouth can only fit one cock at a time. Her hand grabs his shaft and he grips her hair instead as she pumps him at a delicate pace. Their collective moans fill the room as each person assumes a position around Mina’s sensitive holes, filling them hastily. No technique, no patience whatsoever.

It’s pornographic for all the wrong reasons. How it all came to be. The setup. The characters. The very scene itself. Down to the shitty camera recording. Not befitting of an idol such as Mina. It’s got its own charm, but for the most part, it's as disgusting as you imagined. You can’t believe she’d agree to this. At the same time, you can’t look away. It’s a car crash that you know is gonna happen, yet all you can do is watch helplessly—and stroke yourself hard to.

All three men have different rhythms in which they fuck Mina. Tattoos slowly pounding at her dripping cunt, accompanying each deep thrust with a loud smack of her ass. His one hand grabbing at the hem of whatever’s left of her dress, itching to rip it off. Mina’s moan is suppressed by Pudge’s cock protruding through her throat. A fistful of hair in his grip, the other on her flushed, reddened cheek. Expecting her to take his relentless rhythm, only for her gag with each pump into her airtight lips. As if he doesn’t know how giving head works. The oldest man loosens up, lets his body hang as Mina strokes his cock with her ironclad fingers, letting flecks of cum spread over her neck and her shoulders, content with letting her handle him how she wants.

In a way, it’s admirable seeing Mina like this. Three cocks and all, her commitment to fanservice and satisfaction is any fan’s dream for their idol. You’ve seen it firsthand before, how she attends to each fan one by one, but to handle multiple without a single complaint is quite the accomplishment. She’s gonna take it, and she’s going to love it.

And in fact, she does. You’ve never seen her this dedicated and into pleasuring anyone. How she uses her other hand to seize Pudge’s cock, spitting and licking the head, setting him ablaze. Even as the man with the tattoos begins to wreck into her sopping cunt, foregoing leisure for speed—as her whines echo throughout the room—she maintains her composure the best she can. Even begging him to go harder, which he obliges. The bed’s quaking, seemingly closer to collapse, as the man screams to the ceiling, “Fucking tight—so close—cumming—aah—”

All three men are clinging to Mina in some capacity. On her waist, using her hair, or her shoulders—as they all appear close to their climaxes. Their collective groans of pleasure make this evident noise that warrants numerous calls of disturbance or concern. Imagine the commotion when the staff called in to investigate eventually finds out. The notion spurs Mina as she leans further into it—looks right into the camera as she licks up Pudge’s underside. As if demanding you to take the best shot of her while doing it.

It’s scandalous—the way Mina uses her expressions to make herself look good even under duress. How she winks, sticks her tongue, twists her face into lewder and lewder reactions while the three men who seemingly have power over her, now fold under her control. If only you could step in and be a part of the show, but you can’t.

And she looks even better with cum all over her.

The three guys moan in unison for dramatic effect. As if it was part of the intended shot. One after the other, each man reaches their own orgasm and blasts their hot load onto some part of Mina’s body. None of them seem to find their way into what they initially wanted, which is her holes. Mostly—tattoos man is partly into a deep thrust when he meets his abrupt end, only filling part of her cunt with his seed before deciding to pull out and throbs onto her back, her legs instead. Pudge gets most of her face, which she happily accepts. But even with her mouth wide open, he can hardly land his cum onto her sweet lips. As for the old man, he was never a factor to begin with. He had spilled his cum on the side, on the shoulder, on some hair, on her fingers. He was done before the others even finished.

What an unexpected sight.

You stand from the couch you’ve been sitting on, close in on the aftermath of their orgasms, watching as they stand lifeless around the centerpiece that is Mina, running her fingers over all the cum spilled on her body. This is child’s play to her, yet the most surprising thing is: she wasn’t expecting any of the three guys to finish this soon, let alone all three of them. She has this unsatisfied look in her eyes observing her conduits, the supposed ‘threats,’ as if they didn’t live up to her expectation.

“Did I look good?” she asks you, tilting up, resting her head on her palm.

You show her the phone, speed past the raw footage. She watches like she’s the director—which she kind of is.

“Mm—not good enough,” she adds, grabbing the phone and grabbing a tripod from the bedside drawer. “Set it up over there and do it again. They’re not leaving this until they get it right. And you’re gonna show them the way.”

Looking at their tired, exasperated faces, they’d rather be anywhere but here.

As for Mina, she’s the most energetic you’ve seen her in a while, eager for more—and you’re gonna have to make some phone calls explaining why she isn’t at the airport by morning.

—————

(A/N: woo missed another deadline/date but happy birthday Mina! By request/commission, so thank you for waiting and I hope it was to your liking. I do agree we need more subby Mina but in the end she owns all of us let's be real XD Thank you for reading!)

#smut #kpop smut #twice #mina

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hauntedhokage · 2 months

Text

pushing limits

Itoshi Sae/F!Reader/Shidou Ryusei

word count: 2.9k

warnings: inappropriate use of a massage gun, threesome, explicit sexual content (mdni), possessive Shidou, mutual obsession between all three parties, conversational sex,

Sae had learned quickly that if Shidou was looking for something with a sense of urgency that it was probably stupid and something that he shouldn’t involve himself with. His little demon was always good about tidying up the space after he’d found whatever little treasure had been lost. There were rare moments where you were also frantically looking for something with Shidou that he hadn’t yet figured out if it was worth his time to intervene or better for him to completely remove himself from the premises until you’d both located the lost treasure and recovered the order of the shared space - be it your shared apartment or a hotel room.

This time, he decides it’s probably better to leave you both to it, getting comfortable in the chair tucked into the corner of the hotel room with a book and headphones that would drown out the relentless back and forth questioning being tossed between his two lovers. Especially now that the suitcases have come out, the question of what may or may not have made it into one of the many suitcases in the hotel room could be answered once it had been found or a quick run to the store was made to replace it. Neither of you were crying so it couldn’t have been that important. He’d hear all about it later, he was sure.

“He’s not even helping!” You comment to Shidou, pointing over to where Sae had quickly immersed himself in a book and over ear headphones designed to help drown out whatever the fuck you and Shidou often got up to when you were bored. “He’s the one who said he packed it!”

“What a bastard,” Shidou teases, not looking up from his own task that was digging through Sae’s suitcase in his search. “We’ll use his card to buy a new one.”

“Thought you said we’d never replace Wandy?”

“As much as I love Wandy, all things can be replaced,” the blonde comments, looking up to see that you’d given up on your search through your own suitcase. “And I’m trying to have us both overstimulated to hell tonight and to do that I need help.”

He tosses a case onto the bed, something that you both watch bounce on the mattress before looking at each other once more. That was Sae’s personal massage gun, complete with eight or nine different interchangeable attachments and adjustable levels of vibration. Sae loved using it on you both after particularly long sex sessions to help ease any tensed muscles, sometimes teasing where you were most sensitive to try and pull another orgasm out of his spent lovers.

You know that you and Shidou are often on the same page, to the point where you sometimes felt like you were reading each other’s minds. This is one of those times, your eyes dancing between his gaze and the little gray case with an idea in mind that you’re sure he’s following. He always followed.

“You dirty slut.”

“Sae would kill us.”

“Shouldn’t have lost Wandy, then.”

“Fair enough,” you murmur, bringing your finger between your teeth as you look over to where Sae still wasn’t paying you two any attention. He truly had bought those headphones with the sole purpose of properly tuning out whatever you and Shidou could get into, and they worked extremely well. “Should we at least ask?”

“Waste of time.” He’s already opening the case, and you’re climbing onto the bed to sit on your knees as you watch him. “He’s gonna say we’re stupid, and tell us to go buy a new one even though he lost it. We don’t have that kind of time, angel.”

He was right; you didn’t have a lot of time considering your early flight home in the morning. You had the evening, then needed to shower before getting enough rest to not be miserable in the airport. Shidou has his goal of getting you both overstimulated, which wasn’t something he necessarily enjoyed rushing into because he didn’t want to hurt either of you and would only get slowed even further once Sae’s meticulous hands got involved. Besides, Sae had used it on you before with less than honorable intentions, he shouldn’t have too big of a fit over this.

“If he doesn’t want to use it again, he can buy a new one when he replaces Wandy.”

He was right once again, but you don’t bother to vocalize what he already knew. Instead you just lean up to kiss him, fingers in the waistband of his joggers trying to lead him onto the bed with you while his hands work to get the attachment into its slot on the gun. Once he’s got a hand free it’s moving between your legs to your slit that was only covered by a thin pair of panties, a pleased hum leaving him at how damp the fabric already was. If his mouth wasn’t so busy on yours, you know he’d be teasing you for how needy you were and how he liked you needy and wet for him.

“When he’s done this before, low settings yeah?”

“Depends on how mean he’s feeling,” you answer, laying back against the pillows when he gently pushes you back, being mindful of Sae’s suitcase that was still open at the foot of the bed. “Start low and then turn it up, please?”

“Yeah, angel, I’ll take good care of you.”

It’s a rare moment of softness from Shidou where sex was involved. Usually he was quick to pounce, eager to take what it was he wanted from your body and make sure you got what you needed in return with little regard for pleasantries and promises of care. The soft stuff would come after you were reduced to a puddle in his arms, he didn’t like to lose his edge before he came so the mushy verbal foreplay to ease you into the next event was usually left to Sae if you needed it. To have him resting his head on your thigh to keep it down while he prepared you for what was to come was a rarity, but you definitely weren’t complaining.

You hear the hum of the vibration before you feel the gentle thumping on your mound, his free hand keeping your thighs spread open as he settles on his stomach between them. You’re grateful for the barrier your underwear provides, even though the fabric was thin it dulled the sensation of the vibration to prevent the feeling of receiving too much too soon which you knew would’ve happened quickly with the massage gun working around your clit and Shidou’s thumb teasing your slit.

Pink eyes watch you intently, a gaze that makes you feel so small and yet so loved as he plays with you. He’s mumbling promises into your panties; that he wants to see you messy and crying for him, covered and filled with his cum and his sweat and his spit that you smell like him for days after he was done with you and you can only nod along to his every word with the utmost agreement to his plans. Your demon was in his full possessive mode and you knew he’d achieve every single one of his goals tonight. If not; there was always the car on the way to the airport, the time spent in the airport waiting for your flight, the flight itself, the ride from the airport to your home, and then the time you had to yourselves after getting home.

“You’re so pretty up there, angel.” The praise is accompanied by additional pressure to your mound with the gun, bringing a broken gasp from your lips that has him grinning. “My pretty girl. That feel good?”

“S’good Ryu.”

His grin stretches wider, and you watch as he pushes the button to increase the intensity that has your eyes and legs struggling to stay open. There’s an increased pressure on your thigh to keep your legs open, you hope he’s gripping hard enough to leave his mark for another day or two so you can see that proud smirk he gets when he sees his handiwork on display.

“Gotta get these off.” You watch as he props himself up enough to work his joggers off with one hand and use the window to work your panties off to give him the access he was going to need and save the thin fabric from his impatient hands. Sae had bought the panties you were, and they weren’t cheap so you wanted them to last longer than the two days you’d had them in your possession. “Always thinkin’ ahead, angel.”

The gun is back beside your clit before you can respond to the praise, your hand burying itself in his hair as his mouth disappears into your wet folds. He’s groaning into your pussy as you moan, the power of the gun increasing as he brings it directly over your clit. There’s a slight rock into the mattress, Shidou groaning into your cunt adding additional vibration that has your hips grinding into his greedy mouth as you come apart for him.

“You’re so fucking yummy,” he whispers, leaving your pussy with one last sloppy kiss before he drags his body along yours until he reaches your mouth. His hips slot all too perfectly between your legs, his hard length grinding against your slit in slow strokes as his tongue tangles with yours in your mouth. He’s practically pulling your tongue from your mouth with his own, the difference in strength between you obvious in even the smallest instances and turning you on even more.

“Gonna cum, princess,” he warns, grin on his face as you look glance down to where his length is still grinding through your folds against your slit. “Gonna cum all over your pretty pussy, then I’m gonna fuck it and cum inside your pretty pussy. Y’want that?”

“Please, Ryu.” Your pleas have him grinding harder, the occasional stroke brushing your sensitive clit and sending shivers up your spine. “Ryusei, please cum for me.”

You feel the warmth of his cum painting your pussy as he groans, pushing his length into your cunt as he sits up to appreciate the sight of you painted with his cum as his fingers spread it across your skin with additional attention paid to your clit and bringing tears to your eyes at how sensitive you were after your orgasms.

“So pretty when you’re cryin’ f’me,” he whispers, fingers pressing into your clit which forces a hiss from between your teeth that has him grinning. “I’m so fuckin’ in love with ya, makes me insane.”

“L-love you too,” you moan, reaching up to wipe at the drool that’s left him and basking in how feral he got for you as he fucked you. “Feel so perfect, Ryu.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grunts, sending a kiss through the air your way as his hands lift your hips so he can help you meet his thrusts. “S’perfect together.”

“Yes, you are,” Sae murmurs, sitting beside you on the bed and smoothing your hair down. “My perfect little lovers who kicked my suitcase off the bed and made a mess.”

“Sorry.” Your whisper is met with a shake of the head as he moves so you’re laying between his legs with your head resting on his thigh. You’re always quickly forgiven by Sae, he knew how Shidou could be when he was on a mission and Sae particularly enjoyed when Shidou’s mission was sex.

One of Sae’s hands busies itself with your breasts, freeing them from the tank top you still wore and gently kneading your left breast as he reaches for the massage gun. This only spelled trouble for you, and Shidou’s devious grin confirms it as Sae turns the gun on and presses it directly on your clit. It’s too much, too quickly, the wail that erupts from deep in your throat likely enough to wake up the entire floor of the hotel as Sae smirks in his own satisfaction while gently chiding you for your volume while Shidou laughs.

“Be as loud as you like, angel,” the blonde requests, pushing your legs back as Sae moves the gun lower to try and stimulate Shidou’s cock while still torturing you with the vibration. “Let them all know who’s got you filled every night.”

“We’ll get banned from this hotel,” Sae warns, something that has Shidou smirking smugly at him as he sighs. “I guess we can add it to the list.”

The massage gun is turned up to a level Sae rarely tortured you with, this time Shidou crying out at a volume that matched your own at the intense vibration inflicted upon you both. Sae is asking for you both to cum, prompting you both to show him how beautiful you were when you brought each other such wonderful pleasure. You’re surprised to feel that you have another one in you; but you know it’s your last, probably for a couple days, the sheer power forcing more tears for Shidou to lean in and kiss away as his length throbs in your cunt and the warmth of his cum fills your core.

“Satisfied?”

The question has your blonde lover grinning, his hips continuing to grind into yours to make sure every last drop of his cum found its home in your pussy. The only thing that leaves the blonde is a breathy moan, the satisfaction evident in his face as he looks up at Sae.

“Spent,” he finally breathes, leaning in to give you a sloppy kiss while carefully pulling out of your sensitive pussy. “Sweet girl always takes everything I’ve got.”

“You always make such a mess of each other,” Sae scolds with an amused smile, trading places with Shidou so he can settle between your legs. “But you look delicious when you’re messy.”

Your body is exhausted, eyes barely staying open to look up at Shidou as he smirks down at you, but your hips still jolt in response to the feeling of Sae’s tongue dragging up your messy slit to collect what had started to drip out of you. A hum of approval sends electricity up your spine, your sensitive body trying to wiggle away from his eager tongue only to be held in place by his strong hands.

“Stay put, angel,” Shidou murmurs, settling to lay on his side beside you to watch as Sae eats you out. One of his hands goes to Sae’s head, pushing the red hair back to get a clear look at Sae’s eyes gazing back at you. “Baby feels left out and wants to taste us both before bed.”

Sae doesn’t pull back to say anything, only lavishes attention around your clit to collect any of the cum left behind from Shidou’s first orgasm. The tears you thought were gone come bubbling back up to the surface at Sae’s attention, his tongue moving meticulously around your most sensitive spots while your overstimulated babbles fall on uncaring ears that hear only Shidou’s encouragement that you could take just one more. One more and you could rest, and you know you can do that for them - you’d done more in the past.

“C’mon, angel, give him our cum,” the blonde whispers, his eyes meeting yours as you nod. “He wants it so bad, and you want to give it to him, yeah?

“Stay put,” Sae instructs, rolling off the bed and headed towards the bathroom. You nod despite his back already being to you, smiling as Shidou peppers your face in little kisses while praising you for how well you took him and how pretty you were.

When Sae returns, he first uses the cool washcloth to clean up your face, paying special mind to the tear stains on your cheeks before he moves to Shidou to do the same but focusing his attention on the blonde’s mouth. The washcloth then goes to Shidou’s cock carefully dragging the cloth along the sensitive organ and around the base, then folding it in half to expose the clean side as he moves to you.

“Relax, my angel,” he whispers, carefully massaging your twitching thigh as he moves the washcloth between your legs. The rough fibers of the fabric provide an additional stimulation that is way too much, pulling a frustrated whine from deep in your chest that has Shidou humming beside you. A tanned arm draped over your waist curls to wrap around, pulling you into his side in an effort to comfort you while Sae continues to clean you up.

“What’d ya do w’Wandy?”

“I told you two this morning that we needed to replace it because the head broke off.”

“Y’decapitated her.”

“Sure,” Sae mumbles, smiling at you as you let out a soft laugh. “Got so jealous you liked it more.”

Instead of a smart response, all you hear is a soft snort that has you smiling at the way Sae looked at him. He could act annoyed all he wanted, but you knew better than anyone how much he loved you and Shidou and would never need to question his feelings. Sae’s fond smile was rare, he often tried to hide it even from you and Shidou despite the vulnerability you three were constantly sharing.

“Get some sleep, angel,” he whispers to you, leaning in to kiss your forehead as he stands from the bed. “Long travel day tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I know,” you murmur back, snuggling into Shidou to make sure there was space for him on the bed when he came back. “But I forgive you for decapitating Wandy.”

“You’re very kind, he should take notes.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Shidou grunts, turning so he could press his chest to your back, then pushing you to lean into Sae once the redhead was in the bed with you.

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disgustingtwitches · 2 months

Text

**MDNI**

"The closest to heaven we'll ever get"

Saw a lot of stuff about Simon helping out a s*x worker. Anyways, it reminded me of a personal experience I had so... Here I am 😃

5.5k words

*This is kind of Simon needing company and being a weirdo who needs constant validation.

Not gonna lie, it gets blasphemous at the end!

I always played around with the idea of being an escort. I was offered to do things while working in the strip club, but I always turned it down. I was spending every dollar I made because I could always make more, right? But when I broke up with my ex and realized I didn't have the credit or rental history to get my own place, I started panicking. The only option was to put down at least three months rent cash upfront, to even be considered. Suddenly, money was drying up at the club for me, my regulars were being whisked away by girls who would do more for less. I couldn't really get mad, it's just a part of the game really. So I knew what needed to be done.

I hit up one of my girlfriends and told her that I needed the extra cash and what I was willing to do for it. She helped me set up a website, took professional photos of me, made me business cards. The whole nine yards. Now all I had to do was wait. About a week in, I finally get my first client. It was awkward and surprisingly, both of our first times in this situation. I was sent back home in a black car and a few hundred bucks richer for just 30 minutes of my time. I felt a rush I never felt before.

As the months rolled by, the money came. Luxury was the new standard for me. Designer everything, nice dinners, even nicer dates. To my surprise a majority of my clientele were, at most, 10 years older than me, and even more surprisingly, good looking. Finance bros, guys with daddy's money, or just men who had the money to spare. They always talked about how it was more fun and less work to hire me than get a girlfriend. To get a pretty girl in their arm to parade around that wouldn't bicker and give them a hard time at the end of the night. No feelings attached, just company and good sex.

So here I am Saturday night. Instead of going out to the club like a normal woman my age in Manhattan should be doing. I am in my hotel. Waiting for a call or text from someone. Anybody. My hair in rollers, makeup half done. Just waiting. My phone lights up, a text coming in:

Hi, Gia. Was interested in spending an hour with you tonight, 11pm.

I smiled to myself. Finally, someone who reads my ad properly. Follows the instructions on what to text to me. Straight to the point.

Wonderful, just need a picture of your ID or passport.

I reply. Always a rule my girlfriend drilled into my head. Safety first. If they don't do it, then what could they be planning? Anything goes bad and all you have is a name that couldn't even be real. Any client worth your time understands your safety is a priority. So this was my way of feeling safer. A moment passes before my phone dings again.

A picture of a passport, full name and age. Along with a picture. He's cute. A little older than what I usually get but I'm not complaining. I quickly look him up, nothing out of the ordinary. Good.

Great. Thank you, Simon. I'll send an address for you to send a car at 10:20. Reach out to you then❤️

Before I start to get ready he texts,

Wear something casual.

Not an odd request. Actually most clients prefer it. Want more of a girlfriend vibe rather than an escort. I finished getting ready, helping myself to a glass of wine. Playing my usual bad bitch songs, it helped me turn into the woman I needed to be- from me to Gia.

10:25 rolls around. I get a screenshot of the Uber from him. 5 minutes out. I grab my purse and strut out of my hotel, to a nearby park. Never give your real address. Always make sure you're not being followed.

A black SUV pulls up, I slide in. Exchange pleasantries with the driver and I'm off. Headed to midtown. I share my location with a friend and how long I should be gone. My phone goes off.

Walk into the building and head to the elevators on the left. 36th floor. Apt. 4A.

I nod to myself before shooting a text of confirmation.

Got it. See you soon ;)

I pull up to the building, it's huge. Nicer than most places I've been. He must have some serious cash. I walk into the building and follow the directions he gave me. A little adrenaline rushes through me as I walk up to the door, always did when meeting someone new. I knock. He almost immediately opens the door, as if he was standing in front of it. Waiting.

Simon!

I say with a wide smile. He steps aside as I walk in, looking around. Nice place. Really nice place. Ceiling to floor windows, minimalist decor, the lovely smell of something masculine and expensive. He looks me up and down as I turn to him.

You look just like your pictures.

His voice is deep, alluring, unreadable. Sends a chill up my thighs that shoots straight to my core.

You do too.

I reply playfully. A small twitch plays at the corner of his mouth before disappearing. His face inscrutable. I shimmy off my coat before he takes it, hanging it up in a closet near the entrance. I wait for him to move. He stands, hands in his pockets, studying me. An awkward minute passes before he walks to the living room. I follow.

Really nice place you got here.

I try to make the moment more comfortable.

Hm.

He responds. He wasn't like the other men I've seen before. They are sociable, or at least try to be. I take a seat on the couch next to him, our knees barely touching.

Money's there.

He gestures to an envelope on the table. I nod, grabbing it.

Do you mind if I...?

I ask, opening it up. He nods and stands to pour himself a drink. My eyes widen. This is more than my usual rate. Much more. I'm quiet, trying not to show my shock.

Was hoping to do an overnight, if that's alright.

It was less of a question and more of a statement from him. It was more than enough for a night. I nodded.

Of course, I do wish you would've told me; I would've packed a bag.

I smiled, putting the envelope down on the table. I grab my phone and update my friend on how long I'd be gone for. I put away the phone quickly and look up at him. God, was he hot. And the way he carried himself made him even hotter, so nonchalant. He shrugged, sipping his drink before sitting next to me again, some space between us.

How long you been doing this?

He stares at me, gaze so intense I squirm a little.

Just a few months.

We're quiet again. Usually I try to carry a conversation if the other party can't hold one, but he makes me nervous. I talk again, asking mundane questions. It's like pulling teeth trying to have small talk with him. Maybe he's just not much of a talker.

I scoot closer to him, our knees barely touching. He puts his drink down, and rests his arms on the back of the couch. I lean in closer to him, resting my hand on his thigh before kissing his lips. He kisses back softly. We exchange light, almost timid kisses for awhile. He finally moves. A hand reaching up to grab at my hair, gently pulling. I moan faintly and that seems to set him off. He grabs me by the throat, not hard, just enough to stand me up and guide me to his bedroom; our kisses getting more intense. We strip each other of our clothes. I unbuckle his pants and pull them down, it feels like I'm opening a gift on Christmas. He's big. I smile up at him. He just looks down vacantly. I pull down his boxers and his erection springs up, tip drooling. He opens a drawer next to the bed, pulling out a condom and rolling it on himself.

Lay back.

He commands. I obey, opening my legs. I've done this so many times before, but this time it's different. As unceremoniously as he's treating this, I can't be more excited. His body is amazing, tattoos and scars just adding to the mysterious aura. His natural scent drives me wild. I look up to him as he crawls over me, lining himself up with me. He gives a couple lazy slaps on my slick. I take a sharp breath. He watches as he slides himself in, I tense up. Most guys are well... average. And he's well... much more than that.

Relax.

He huffs. Sliding himself in more, not giving me any time to adjust. I grip the bedsheets, clenching my jaw. I stare up at him, he doesn't even look at me. His face emotionless as he watches himself slide in and out. I try to unclench, opening myself up more to him.

Mhm...

He grunts. My nipples harden at his voice. I moan as he slams into my cervix repeatedly. It makes him shoot his eyes up at me, glaring into mine. His eyes dark pools, intense. He roughly hooks his arms under my knees, pushing them up to my chest. He digs even deeper into me as I whimper. He takes quick, shallow breaths.

You're so deep.

I say panting, the breath getting knocked out of me. I reach out to touch his muscular arms. He grunts and pounds harder into me. I throw my head back, whining. Trying to not wince in pain. He slows for a moment, pulling back, keeping my legs on his shoulders as he slides in and out. My breasts bounce up and down with each thrust.

You're hot.

A hint of emotion in his voice, he reaches down to knead my chest. My face gets hot. I tighten around him.

Fuck...

He makes a sound that almost resembles a moan. I smile up at him, almost proud of making him show any emotion. He looks down at me, a flicker in his eyes, a small smirk on his face that leaves as quickly as it came. He parts my legs and rubs at my clit in rough circles. I squirm under him.

Say my name.

He orders. His strokes picking up as I get used to him.

Simon~

As soon as his name leaves my lips, a deep rumble from his chest fills my ears. He leans over me, arms on either side of my head. I reach up to run my hands up and down the back of his neck.

Say you love me.

His request takes me aback. I pull him closer, my lips just under his ear.

I love you~

He immediately tenses up and takes a heavy breath. I could feel him twitch inside me as he finishes. He pulls away quickly, going to the bathroom to throw out the condom and clean up. He brings back a wet towel, wiping me down.

What's your name?

His tone as flat as ever.

Gia.

I responded. I know what he's actually asking me. Never, ever tell a trick your real name. Hell, he shouldn't even know your real age.

You know what I mean.

He glares at me. I shift awkwardly. Don't do it. He doesn't say a word, just stares in a way that makes me uncomfortable. Why should he know your real name anyways? I tell him my name. Stupid. Fucking dumbass. I kick myself. He nods and slides into some sweats, throwing me his shirt.

Let's watch something.

I throw on his shirt. Now this is what I'm used to. Being a temporary girlfriend. Pretending to be affectionate. Giving much needed companionship. He splays out on the couch as I lay on top of him. He turns on the TV, resting a hand on my ass and squeezing it. Maybe this is why he hires girls. Because of how distant he is. The man can't even hold a conversation. He flicks on some show he was in the middle of, a business dramedy that I couldn't care less about. I rest my head on his chest and he runs his fingers through my hair. We're like this for a while, quiet.

Tell me you love me.

He says dryly, looking down at me. I look up and kiss him.

I love you, Simon.

He gets hard immediately, rubbing himself on me. He gets up, lifting me up effortlessly, and throws me on the bed. He lays on top of me, pinning me down onto the bed. Kissing me much more passionately this time, like he was trying to taste every inch of my mouth.

Keep saying it.

His voice gruff. He moves his kisses down to my neck, pawing at my bust.

I love you, Simon.

I moan. I wanted him so badly. I don't care how I got him, I just wanted to take him. Something about him made me go crazy, deep inside. He yanks up the shirt I was wearing, moving his kisses more and more south.

You fuck other people raw?

I shake my head. I might've been a whore, but I wasn't reckless.

Never.

He nods.

Can I eat you out?

I look down at him. Something about seeing him between my legs makes me wanna say yes. The way his eyes looks almost as if he's pleading, desperate. No way. Never do that.

Yes.

I allow him to keep going. What the fuck am I doing? Why am I allowing this? Before I can think more, he plunges his tongue between my lips. Lapping up desperately, burying his face into me. I roll my eyes back, running my fingers through his hair.

I love you, Simon.

I gasp. It's the only thing he wanted me to say. I saw something in him, the way he reacted when I said that, it made me want to stay in his place forever. To never leave. Make him happy. It's just the good head talking, you'll snap back to your senses afterwards. He moans so quietly I can barely hear it. Barely. My legs on his shoulders, his arms wrapped around my thighs. Digging fingers into the soft flesh. He sucks on my nub repeatedly. It's a tortuously delicious feeling. I grip his hair a little.

I love you, Simon.

I look down at him, watching him devour me. He looks up at me, his eyes showing an emotion I can't decipher. He moves one hand down to slide two fingers into me.

I love you, Simon.

I moan, throwing my head back and smiling.

Hmm...

He mumbled into my heat. Pumping in and out before bending his fingers in a way that presses against my sweet spot. I hiss, pleasure flashing through me like a strobe light. I'm dripping wet. He pulls his fingers out and plunges his tongue into my entrance, trying to suck out every drop of my juices.

You taste good.

Voice as flat as ever, as if he isn't lost in between my folds. He drags his tongue up between my lips, from my entrance to my nub again. He slips his fingers in again, pressing up against my sweet spot repeatedly. I get lost in the feeling. God I could stay like this forever. He looks up at me, like he's looking for validation.

I love you, Simon~

I slip out between heavy breaths. He picks up the pace of his fingers and tongue. My face gets hot as I get closer, grip his hair a little harder. He goes even faster, harder, almost feverant. I roll my eyes back, panting. I whimper before crying out, tightening around his fingers in a vice grip.

I love you, Simon~

I force the words from my throat as I spasm under him. He continues, seemingly determined to draw another climax out of me. I mewled, trying to push his head away. He was unmoving for an unbearable moment. The only sounds were my pants and his slurping.

I love you, Simon.

I wailed, almost hoping it'll make him stop. He does thankfully. He pulls away, tearing off his sweats, beating off himself. Staring at me, his gaze is intense as ever. He grabs me by the thighs and drags me into his lap. He continues to stroke himself, staring into my wet core as if he was hypnotized by it.

Can I...

He starts, almost knowing he shouldn't ask the question.

Can I fuck you raw?

His voice is uncharacteristically soft and unsure. I blink at him, mind racing. ABORT! ABORT! THIS IS LIKE RULE #1 IN HOE-ING!!! He looked so delicious from this angle, his eyes still glued on my wetness. ARE YOU INSANE?? NO!! His throbbing, beautiful dick is twitching.

...yes.

I nod. You're the dumbest person on the planet. I insult myself a million different ways in my head. A brief moment of regret is replaced with pleasure as he slides his tip teasingly in and out of me. His jaw clenches, chest rising and falling faster. His voice cracks as a moan escapes him, his eyebrows furrow.

I love you, Simon.

I stare at him, eyes half lidded. The smallest smile spreads across his face, still looking at himself entering me. He inches his way in. Pulling in and out, going deeper each time. I squeeze him, make him bite his lip.

That's good.

He stated, voice quavering. He clears his throat before grabbing one leg and lifting it to my chest, digging deep into me. I take a sharp breath in. He hovers over me, arms on either side of my head again. He slides in and out, slowly at first then picking up to a punishing pace. I whimper and wiggle under him. He grabs my face, forcing me to look into his eyes that bore into mine.

I love you, Simon.

I stare right back at him, passion shooting right out of my eyes. His eyes flutter for a moment before blinking back into his cold, unnerving self. He continues to dig himself into me, slamming and grinding himself into the deepest parts of me. It's a painfully addicting feeling. I take his hand and press it up against my lower stomach so he can feel how much he fills me. He clenches his jaw so hard, it looks like his head could pop.

I love you, Simon.

I whisper. He drops down on top of me, snaking his arms around and behind my back to grab my ass. His mouth right next to my ear, I can hear his fast and shallow breaths. Little groans that slip out every now and then. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him tighter.

I love you, Simon.

I hear him groan under me as I said it again. He goes faster than before, pretty much jackhammering me into the mattress. My mouth is agape and head thrown back. Only grunts escape my throat as I get fucked senseless.

Mhm...like that?

His words bounce around in my empty head. I replay it in my head over and over until I clench around him, he doesn't stop though. It only seems to spur him on even more. His warm breath tickling my ear as it gets more ragged.

Keep saying it.

He demands through gritted teeth.

Fuck... I love you, Simon.

I squeak out the words. He huffs and continues to rampage my body.

Can I come inside you?

He asks- No, begs. No use in turning back now. Just the thought made me close again.

Yes.

I nod and he breathes harder and harder until he pleads in a strained voice,

Say it.

I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside me.

I love you, Simon~

He spills inside me. His stammered breaths and moans driving me crazy. The feeling of him pumping into me driving me over the edge. I pull him closer, practically squeezing him.

I love you, Simon.

I tenderly kiss the top of his head as he nuzzles into my neck.

How often do you do this?

My head clears, a wave of regret coming over me.

Never. I never even hired anyone before you.

He says in a way so sincere I honestly believe him. How do you know when a trick is lying? Their mouth is open. Rules. Rules to live by, to be able to survive doing what I do. Rules. They all meant nothing as soon as I laid eyes on him. Somehow saw this coming a mile away in the back of my head. He pulled away from my grasp, disappointment flooded me. He leaned back, opening my legs: watching both of our cum dripping out of me.

Say it.

His eyes so focused, as if he were trying to take a picture with his mind; so he would never forget this moment.

I love you, Simon.

I say with a tender smile. His dick jumps. Good lord is this man insatiable. He stands up and does the same routine as before, cleaning himself up and then me. He hands me his shirt:

Here.

I throw it on and he leads me to the bathroom, grabbing me by the shoulders and making me face the mirror. He gently pushes my back, I lean my elbows on the countertop. I stand on the balls of my feet, trying to get my hips to meet his. As I look in the mirror, his face looks almost tender watching me sway my hips.

I love you, Simon~

I sing softly. He bites his lip, entering me again. God, I never get used to the feeling. He grabs my hips and pulls me onto him, he bottoms me out. Groaning louder this time, he pulls my hair back so I'm looking directly at the mirror, locking eyes with him.

S'it, pretty girl...

A corner of his mouth upturned just enough to know he's enjoying himself. His words make me flutter around him. He groans and starts to pound into me. The bathroom is filled with the duet of our breaths and groans. He pulls my hair so my back is pressed against his chest. He rests a hand on my throat, squeezing just enough. Moves his lips to my neck, still sliding in and out of me.

You love me? Huh?

He grunts, warm breath on the pulse of my neck.

I love you. So much.

I moaned. I repeated the phrase so many times, it started coming out of my mouth naturally. He moved his hand from my hair to my lower stomach, pressing against it so he could feel himself hitting my walls.

You love this dick, yeah? Say it.

His voice getting more demanding and urgent. I nod and look at him through the mirror, smiling.

I love it, I love this dick so much, Simon~

He nips at my neck as he continues to fuck me. His nips turn into bites. Bites that definitely leave marks. I didn't care, that didn't matter right now.

You're never fucking leaving, you know that?

A threat that sounded like heaven to me. He could keep me chained to the bed and I wouldn't care, just as long as he kept fucking me like this. I giggled with excitement.

You like that, hm?

He smiles against my skin before continuing to lick and bite my neck.

I love it~

I truly did. It felt heavenly. Better than anyone I've ever had. Ever. Something felt so familiar about his touch. As if I belonged there.

I love you, Simon~

At this point I feel like I'm reciting a prayer, the words flowing out of me like a stream. I was melting in his arms.

Turn around, wanna see that pretty face.

I did so eagerly as he lifted me up on the counter and slid inside me. I smirked up at him. He, as always, was watching himself impale me.

Looks so pretty...

He seemingly mumbled to himself. He leaned down and pressed our foreheads together, a firm hand on the back of my head. Hitting a spot so deep inside me I never knew I had. We were like this for a long minute, sloppy sounds of our sex bouncing off the walls.

I love you, Simon.

I stared into his eyes. They seem to soften for a moment before he tightened the grip on the back of my neck. A huff, and then he came undone. He stayed inside me until he was soft. He pulls out and pushes his fingers into my cunt, stuffing his seed back into me.

Hm.

He grunts in a way that sounds like approval before helping me off the counter. He leads me to bed and slips under the covers.

In my arms.

Commanding as he usually does. I press my head against his chest, his heart beating hard and fast. He wraps an arm around me, his touch much gentler than before. I fall asleep. Not too sure if he does too.

Morning comes and I'm woken up by the sun shining in my face. Sitting up, I'm in his bed, still wearing his shirt. Alone. I walk out to the living room and see him setting up breakfast on the coffee table.

You made this?

I question, surprised.

Ordered it. Good morning.

He turns to me, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looks at me expectantly. I blink at him.

Good morning.

I say. He looks at me as if he was anticipating something else. I think for a moment before suddenly remembering.

I love you, Simon.

He steps to the side, inviting me to sit on the couch. I help myself to a seat and look at the plate in front of me. It's simple, French toast and eggs. I help myself.

Are you gonna eat anything?

I look at him quizzically. He shakes his head, staring like always. We're silent as I finish my plate. I grab my phone and check the time. Almost time for me to leave.

Can I book you for longer?

His voice is gruff. An underlying tone, pleading?

It'll be expensive.

I didn't want to say that. Wanted to say I'll stay as long as he likes. But I already made too many mistakes. Gotta get back on track.

I don't care.

Of course he didn't. He could probably buy me out for the rest of my life if he wanted to. He pulled out his phone, asking for my personal number so he could send the money straight to my bank account. Hesitantly I gave it to him. He probably could find out that stuff if he wanted to anyways. My phone dings, I check my bank app. My eyes pop out of my head. I look up at him bewildered.

How long would that get me?

He asks, as if he didn't send me an ungodly amount of money.

It's enough for a whole week...

Shock still overwhelming me.

You wanna stay that long?

He doesn't really ask. He knows I'll say yes. Doesn't even wait for my answer.

I'll let you get your things.

He throws some of his clothes my way and sends me back in a car to the hotel. I grab my bags and checkout. Is this really happening? A call from my girlfriend. I tell her about his extension. She says something about making sure he's not a serial killer. We laugh, tells me to have fun, don't fall in love. I scoff as if that was the stupidest idea I've heard. As soon as I know it I'm back at his place, he's grabbing bags from me, setting them to the side. Turning to me and running a hand up the side of my waist.

I love you, Simon.

We spend the whole week tangled up in each other. Taking a break before I say those four words and he has me pinned against a wall or over a dresser or kitchen counter. Any flat surface, really.

It's Saturday night and we're showering, cleaning off sweat and other bodily fluids from each other. His touch is so gentle, handling me like I was a piece of china. He liked me. It was obvious. Seemed like the only way he knew how to show it was by fucking me, though. I liked him too. Maybe not to the extent he did.

Seemed like he found something he needed for a long time. He was hungry. Famished. He couldn't just let go of me. He's not satiated yet. Don't know if he'll ever be. It was a looming feeling. Dark and heavy. A little scary. But it made me feel more desired than I've ever been before. And not just a carnal desire. It made me feel coveted.

We're laid up on his couch. Watching the show I didn't care for before, a little more invested. My phone lights up, buzzing. The name of a regular of mine across the screen in big bold letters. This is usually the time of the month he calls to set up a date. A reminder that this is all temporary. I let it go to voicemail. He tenses up. Jealousy and disappointment radiating off him.

How much for the whole month?

He doesn't even let me think of an answer before speaking again.

How much to make you quit for good?

I'm a little shook, sure I've heard it a dozen times before. Always said in jest. But he's serious. The few words he said, he always seemed to mean. No need to waste his breath beating around the bush. My heart races. I can feel his pound against mine. A number doesn't come to my head.

Let's just see how this goes.

He doesn't like that answer. He wants something solid. A promise that I'll never leave. More than a promise. But that's as good as he can get right now. There's a tense silence between us.

I love you, Simon.

The only thing I can think of saying right now. He takes hold of me, climbing into the bed and sits me in his lap. His back against the headboard.

C'mon love.

He says frigid. An underlying tone of disappointment and hurt. I slide myself down on him, a little more adjusted to his size now. He wraps strong arms around my waist, pulling me so close it seems like he wants to coalesce into my very being.

Give me a number.

A demand that seems more like a plea. We hold each other. Unmoving as he is still buried deep inside me.

Maybe it is a little toxic to spiral into the addiction to fast money. Maybe I'm a little sick of pretending to be the perfect woman. Maybe it is a little exhausting to be a fantasy and nothing more. Maybe it is a little lonely when it's just me lying in bed, when I have to comfort others. Where's my comfort in all of this? Where's my happiness in all of this? No more fake smiles. No more fake orgasms. No more fake feelings. I don't care if he's lying. I want to indulge in delusion. Even for a moment.

Ok.

I give in. He leans over, placing me on my back before adjusting himself on top of me. Touches my face, his showing an emotion that is genuine and staggering. Devotion? It feels like it.

I could almost cry, the way he takes me like I'm his. The way he talks to me like I'm not someone he hired. That didn't matter anymore. I wasn't an escort to him. I was his girl. The sex was different. Transcendant. Divine. Did I know I wanted to be saved? Of course I didn't know; for the life of sin and suffering is simply a thing to toil in until you are shown salvation. Every time he came, he baptized me. I was born again in his eyes, I was perfect and clean. Absolved of my sins.

He looked at me with so much adoration. I looked up at him, much in the same way Magdalene did to her Redeemer. He had turned a prostitute into a Saint. The unshakeable feeling of deliverance washed over as he touched me, no longer a leper. I was saved by him. His body. His sweat. His seed. Akin to taking Communion. The closest to heaven we'll ever get.

#cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #longer reads

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voxsmistress · 5 months

Text

Mama Didn't Raise No Bimbo - Part 11

I decided we needed a bit of an outsider view on Y/n and the Vee's as its so easy to get stuck in your little bubble, plus Angel being shifty needed to be sorted!

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen / Part Fourteen / Part Fifteen / Part Sixteen

“You thought this was a date?” you asked in a bit of shock. Humming his lips were twitching in amusement. “Well …” you bit your lip and then thought screw it, “I thought you out of everyone would have planned a much better date and more entertaining than posing for cameras and being looked at like shark bait by creepy club owners?” It was now your turn to laugh as his screen once again glitched and he narrowed his eyes.

“You just wait Y/n” as you walked outside you took a deep breath of fresh air.

“With pleasure, Sir” you smirk up at the TV Demon who matched you with one of his own. This night might have been a bust but it definitely was interesting.

It had been a few days since the club opening and you had dealt with seeing articles plastering yours and Vox’s face over them asking ‘who was this Sinner with Vox’ quite well. Which meant you had avoided looking at any news, any articles and any social media for the first day as you were a little embarrassed by the headlines and different opinions demons were saying about you and Vox. You had a few messages off the Vee’s each expressing different emotions about them. Velvette checked to see if you were okay, also complimented you how you made sure to tell the paps that you were wearing her design (and looked hella hawt doing it – her words) while looking good solo and with Vox. Valentino just praised how well you did and when were you going to come to one of his clubs in those outfits, and when you did could he choose it. And Vox. Well, he simply put ‘I always knew we would look good together, don’t think I’ve forgotten about our date’.

Currently you were, however, sat in the Hazbin Hotel at the bar waiting for Angel. He’d been avoiding your calls, texts and now you have had enough of it, you have given him all day to respond to your messages and calls so now he was going to face you whether he wanted to or not. So, eight minutes ago you sent a message: ‘Bar. Downstairs. 10 Minutes. If you don’t come, I’ll drag you out of your room myself’. A cocktail sat in front of you untouched as you counted down the minutes. You knew he wasn’t at work today as you’d checked with Valentino and Husk the bartender had been very informative that Angel had dragged himself to his room this morning and hadn’t emerged yet. Husk was currently wiping over a few glasses sending you questioning glances every minute or so.

Nine Minutes. Tapping your nails on the counter you start to count the seconds from the clock hung on the wall.

“What are you going to do if he doesn’t come down?” Husk’s deep voice distracts you from counting. 45 seconds.

“Drag him out kicking and screaming”, you smile serenely picking up your cocktail to have a sip. His eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Little thing like you?” Smirking into your drink you shrug, placing your drink down. 20 seconds. You really didn’t want to have to yank Angel out of his room, but you would. Bracing your hands on the bar you go to push yourself up when a very hungover Angel slumped into the bar stool next to you.

“Good evening, stranger” you chirp, irritating the already grumpy sinner.

“What do you want y/n? I’ve had a long night, and I haven’t the fuckin’ energy to deal with your positive mood”, chuckling at his moaning you slide the sipped cocktail in front of him. Eyeing you he quickly downs it, flinching at the excess alcohol you asked Husk to put in there. Choking he tries to clear his throat as you turn on your stool to face him head on.

“Why are you avoiding me?” You ask. Face now devoid of humour, you stare at his mismatched eyes catching the flinch he tried to hide.

“Who says I’m avoiding you?” He mumbles, motioning for Husk to bring him another drink.

“Me, idiot. We used to see each other nearly every day, if not at least once or twice a week and now you don’t respond to my messages, you don’t answer my calls, you are always busy when I pop to see you at work. What would you call that if not avoidance?” Waiting for him to finish his sip, you tap your nails in annoyance when he evaded looking you in the eyes.

“Look toots, these things happen. People grow apart. That’s what happens in show business, you should get used to it.”

“Please tell me that is not it?” eyes narrowing at him. “That I am finally getting a bit of recognition and you aren’t happy about it?”

“I ain’t that pathetic” he snarled at you, fists clenching around his drink.

“Well thank Lucifer for that, then what is it?”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, contemplating what to say before he finally just snapped: “it’s who you are hanging around with to get that ‘recognition’”.

Ahh. Okay.

“You don’t like me spending time with the Vee’s?” You confirm, tilting your head eyeing him as he struggles with his words.

“Obviously honey! They ain’t good people!”

“We’re in Hell babe, who is?” You waft your hand around to make your point. If you were good people, you’d not be in Hell.

Scrunching his face in concern, he reaches over and grabs your hand. “Look y/n, you don’t know what you are getting into. You don’t know who or what they are like!”

“Like you did when you signed your contract?” Low Blow, you know but you needed to get your point across. “I know you are trying to protect me Angel, and I appreciate it. But you pulling away and avoiding me is only going to have me going to them more. I am not stupid. I know what I’m doing. I know who they are and what they have done. I mean have you really forgotten who you are speaking too here?” You squeeze his hand, offering him a small smile.

“I know you are clever and can play their game as well as the best, but I’m just worried they’re going to trap you somehow”. Your eyes drop to where he pulls at his choker necklace with a small gold tag. Hmm.

“Then that’ll be my own fault. But I swear, they aren’t getting near my soul. I made one deal with Velvette and that is just to showcase her clothes and me singing at her catwalk okay – that’s it. Nothing more, they know that.” I keep my eyes on his so he could see how serious I was.

After a few tense moments he nodded in surrender and tiredly rubbed his face with his other hand. Asking Husk for two shots of vodka you push the other in front of Angel.

“Apology shot?” A small smile graced his face as he clinks your glasses together before you both finish them off.

Watching you for a moment he starts, “So…” you scrunch your nose up at the taste of the shot, you forgot how much you disliked vodka, shoving the glass back on the bar. “How are your suga’ daddies and momma treatin’ you?” Snorting in amusement you throw him a look.

“I’m still living in my shit house that I call an apartment and working every job that is worth taking if that’s what you’re asking”, accepting another shot off Husk.

“Oh, they’ve not offered you to move in yet?” Choking on the shot you slap your chest to remove the alcohol from your windpipe.

“I wear Velvette’s clothes, not shag the Vee’s babe, why would they ask me to move in with them?” You questioned.

“Hmm, I dunno know toots. I saw the photos”, his eyes lit up in amusement as he started pulling them up on his phone. “I mean big ol’ Voxxie looked like he was just about ready to devour you – which woulda been so hot. Which reminds me, do ya need any pointers? I know it’s been a longggg time for you” your cheeks were on fire from blushing as you shove a laughing Angel away from you. Dick.

“Ain’t it like riding a bike?” You tease back trying to lessen the blush from your face.

“What type of bike are you ridin’ doll?” if you weren’t so glad you both were now okay, you’d have cursed him out by now. After a few more teasing comments about your lack of skill or sex life you glared. His teasing smile lessened a bit, sipping on his drink he decided to throw you a curveball, “ya know, Valentino messaged me the other night and not about work”.

Eyebrow quirking you tilt your head: “What about?”

“He cursed me out for ditching you at that club opening”, ah bugger. You remembered him typing furiously on his phone that night but you didn’t even think he’d contact Angel.

“Oh Angel, I am so sorry babe I didn’t think he’d say anything to you!” Waving off your apology he shrugged.

“I shouldn’t have ditched ya so I deserved it … but you looked like you enjoyed yourself anyway”, his teasing smile came back making another blush raise on your cheeks.

“I didn’t know Vox was going to be there, he hadn’t said anything to me. He told me Valentino messaged him to get dressed and meet me”. You defended yourself a bit against the teasing Sinner.

“Val told Vox to meet you?” Angel’s eyebrows scrunched up on his forehead.

“I was just as confused as you are now, I figured the club scene was more Val’s than Vox’s.”

“Huh” eyeing you with a mixture of confusion and amusement. “Ya really got them wrapped around your little finger now ain’t cha”, rolling your eyes it was your turn to laugh at him.

“Hardly! If I did, don’t you think I’d be living in a gorgeous apartment, have a nice car and not having to work another day in my undead life?” you reason with him. Having the Vee’s wrapped around your little finger, that’ll be the day.

“Mhmm … but you’ve got Velvette giving you free clothes”-

“-Which I promote for her, help design and plus I’ve gotta sing at her catwalk show” you interrupt.

“Okay fair but you’ve got Valentino bossin’ around Vox for you, sending you cutesy shit – yes I’ve seen the messages and photos – and you’ve got Vox looking like a panting dog chasin’ ya around on those photos on the articles. And probably more shit but the cameras just aint caught it!”

Mouth opening and closing as you try to come up with a counter argument, you eventually shut your mouth with a snap. He was right – not about Vox chasing you around the carpet he had actually helped you, but the rest was kinda correct.

“You might not have them completely wrapped around it but toots you are pretty darn close”. He surmised with a smug smirk.

Gulping a little you bite your lip: “What do I do?”

Shrugging, he awkwardly smiles at you: “Ain’t for me to say darlin’, but whatever you do be safe … and have fun”.

Licking your bottom lip, you play around with your empty shot glass on the counter so you didn’t have to look at him. “If … hypothetically I did, how did you so beautifully put it – wrap them round my little finger and have fun – you wouldn’t start avoiding me again would ya?” you questioned, running your finger around the rim of the glass.

Snorting in amusement, one of his arms wrapped around your neck as he placed an exaggerated kiss on your cheek.

“Doll face. You are stuck with me now! Hey if you’re up living it large with those Vee’s I want a Lamborghini for my birthday”, he teased. Tenseness fading from your body you laugh and give him a squeeze around his hips. Angel was one of your true friends in Hell, you’d be lost without him. “Plus, I can give you the low down on how to get Val off”.

“Ew Angel!!” Shoving him off you he bursts out laughing. Clutching his stomach as you scoff at him, blush burning your ears. A buzz from your pocket distracts you from a cackling Angel, pulling it out your jeans pocket you see a message from Vox: ‘Me and Val need to speak to you about an opportunity, I’ll send a car for you’. Peeking up through your hair you see that smug grin on Angel’s face.

Rolling your eyes you give him a snarky smirk in return: “sorry my suga’ daddies are calling” you wink at him as you both laugh. Texting Vox the address, to which he responded: ‘I know’ you scoff. Course he would know. Finishing the last shot you give Angel a quick kiss on the cheek and thank Husk while putting down some money to pay for the numerous drinks.

“I will be seeing you later babes!” He promised to text you tomorrow and you left, happy that you two had buried the hatchet and feeling so much lighter than you have for a few days.

Stepping outside the hotel you spy a black car pull up. Hurrying down the steps you are surprised when a sinner gets out the driver’s seat and opens the back door for you with a small bow in your direction. Okay. That’s new. Thanking them you slide in and relax in the lush leather seating. Perhaps having them a little bit wrapped round your finger is a good thing?

Tag List: @tasha-1994 @azullynxx @reath-solia @leathesimp @klorinda @twinklethewarrior @martinys-world @rosiethevoxobesser

@the-maladaptivedaydreamer @songbrita @midge7838 @joumi13 @wonderlandangelsposts @th3rizzl3r

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jollmaster · 2 months

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asile!Hazbin Hotel: Broken Stone, one of the overlords

° a lenape warrior who lived in the 18th century, during the active colonization of North America

° participated in French and Indian War, nine-year conflict between England and France (1754-1763): his tribe supported french settlers

° once he even saw young George Washington in person

° died of a head injury in the penultimate year of the war; the iroquois scalped him before cracking skull with an axe

° no one can pronounce his real name

° on rather strained terms with most of the overlords

° dislikes Alastor and Rosie most of all because of algonquin superstitions about cannibalism

° Alastor is saved a little by his french roots, but Broken Stone can't stand Rosie who eats people not even out of sheer hunger, but just because

trivia

yeah, it's a reimagining of this guy 👇 the design prototype was traditional lenape clothing:

Vivzie: draws another twink in a suit and bowtie

me: oh well, he's been skinned

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel redesign #hazbin hotel overlord #flaming skull guy #hazbin hotel rewrite #we need more of this

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mint-yooxgi · 1 year

Text

{14} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour, Smut

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Seonghwa near the end, Slight Hongjoong)

Words: 16,125

Warnings: Brief mentions of anxiety and PTSD (not OC), mentions of blood, weapons. Smut: Oral (m. rec.), subby!Hwa, minor knife play and begging, I think that's it. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: I'm glad I split this into two parts. I knew it was going to be long! And boy oh boy, who's excited for the next chapter? I'm excited for the next chapter! iykyk ;)) As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen

There’s an eager spring to your step as Yeosang leads you over to a side door, of which he’s just made materialize in front of your eyes. Not even the grumbling of the other seven males behind you can bring down your mood, excitement coursing through your veins as he opens the door, holding it open for you to step through in the next second.

“I’m still not used to you all being able to do that.” You comment, smiling at Yeosang in thanks as you step into the new room.

It’s a bit dark, so you can’t quite see much, but you can feel them all stepping in behind you.

“It’s great for hiding things in plain sight.” San comments, attempting to step in beside you, only for Yeosang to take his place in an instant.

“I can imagine- holy shit!” The moment the lights come on, you’re greeted by a room full of bows and arrows of various shapes and sizes.

Your jaw drops, eyes going wide as you take in the grand space before you. It’s a simple room in all aspects, square in design with mounts and racks to hold all of the various weapons that you can just tell all belong to Yeosang. Not that you would doubt that for even a minute.

Softly, you hear the sound of the door shutting behind you.

Pure excitement thrums through your veins, your body practically vibrating as you take in the space around you. Still, you keep your distance, not wanting to touch anything and risk damaging or breaking any of the various weapons lining the room. The urge to touch everything in sight is quite strong, and you cannot help the way your fingers twitch, almost subconsciously, at your sides.

“Go ahead, Dearest,” Yeosang smiles gently at you, a small nod to his head. “Don’t hold back.”

You do not need to be told twice.

Almost as soon as the words have left his mouth, you’re zipping over to the wall in front of you and inspecting all the different styles of bows. There’s a giddiness to your movements as you look over some more traditional, simplistic bows made of various materials such as metal and wood, to more intricately designed ones. Each weapon varies in colour, some curving in a singular arch, while others curve like stereotypical ‘m’ shaped birds in children’s drawings. Even the strings vary in colour, some being a pure white, while others are a dark red.

One bow in particular catches your eyes, and before you realize what you’re doing, you reach out to it. However, before you can so much as lay a single finger on the intricate carvings, you catch yourself.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, you retract your hand.

A low chuckle sounds right behind you.

“It’s okay, Dearest,” Yeosang steps up to you, pressing himself against your back so that he can lean into you. His breath ghosts over the shell of your ear as his hands settle against your waist. “What’s mine is yours.”

A shiver caresses your spine, and you can practically feel him smirk against the skin of your neck.

“I just don’t want to damage anything,” you mutter, still unsure of if you should reach out and touch the gorgeous bow resting before you.

“Believe us, Darling,” Jongho comments, and you can just hear the affectionate smile that he wears in his voice as he speaks. “You don’t have to worry about damaging anything. Our weapons are made with the strongest materials available to us. You couldn’t put a scratch on them, even if you tried.”

“Not to mention the magic we imbue them with for extra protection,” Yunho hums.

Understanding flashes across your features, nodding your head almost subconsciously. Still, your eyes briefly dart over to Yeosang one last time, who’s head rests just beside your own. As soon as you see him smile and nod, you take that intricately carved bow into your hands.

Vines appear to wrap themselves around the shaft of the bow, leaves branching out in intricate designs over the wood. The string is a solid white, while the colour of the bow itself is an almost faded grey, appearing a misty green in the light. It’s not very heavy by any means, but just from merely looking at the bow, you can tell that it’s strong.

Carefully, your fingers trace over the carvings, nothing but pure wonder shining in your eyes. “Did you carve this yourself?”

You feel Yeosang nod against your shoulder, and your lips part in awe as a low gasp escapes you.

“Wow.”

“We make all of our own weapons, My Divine.” Seonghwa makes sure to keep his tone soft as he informs you of this, not wanting to disturb the moment that’s settled around you all. “Have been since the beginning.”

“That’s incredible.” You breathe out, turning to face the other seven males with that bow still in your hands. “You’re all incredible!”

The way they all smile shyly in response says it all.

“Seriously, is there anything you all can’t do?” You turn your attention back to the bow in your hands, heart thundering as you stroke a hand down the shaft of the bow.

Mingi’s lips part in response, but at the quick jab of San’s elbow to his ribs, he’s closing it.

You quirk a brow in amusement, not needing to be able to read his mind to know he was about to remind you all that he can’t cook once again.

Sparing another glance around the room, your eyes catch on another intricately carved bow. Another gasp is escaping your lips as you waddle over to it excitedly, noticing how the two tips seem to be shaped like serpents which appear to intertwine intricately with one another to make the body of the bow.

“Literally, these are so beautiful.” You say, eyes scanning over every detail that you can.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, My Dear,” Yeosang chuckles, his one hand settling onto the small of your back as you walk around the room.

“This is one of the best days of my life,” you reply honestly, walking over to the wall of arrows across from you.

In no time at all, Yeosang launches into an explanation of all the different types of arrows he uses. The majority, he’s made himself, while others have been a collaboration between him and his brothers. Wooyoung more than happily chimes in when the different poison arrows are mentioned, the two of them detailing how each poison is administered depending on the arrow. Some are injected through the shaft, while other arrows are coated in the poison which gets administered through point of contact.

The whole time, you listen intently. Your eyes never lose that shine of wonder, lips pulling upwards in a radiant smile as they all observe you taking this all in. The fact that you appear so interested, and ecstatic to learn about all of this is making their hearts sing, and their souls come alight.

Finally, they can share this with you, too.

“So,” you turn back to Yeosang after he’s finished describing how his shattering arrows work. “Which one is your favourite?”

The way his eyes light up even further at your inquiry says it all.

“Design wise,” immediately, he’s pointing at the bow carved to resemble those two intertwined snakes. “Functionality, though, is a different story.”

Leading you back over to the main wall that you had grabbed the intricately carved bow with the vines from, he’s quick to grab another off of a hook. It’s quite simplistic in design, smooth black edges greeting your vision. The bow appears to be made out of some sort of thin metal, the edges sharp in the light of the room.

Ever so carefully, Yeosang trades the bow in your hand which you have yet to let go of with this new one. He’s quick to place the wooden one back on the wall as you marvel at how light this new bow is, holding it in the air slightly beside your head.

“The edges can cut through steel.” He comments casually.

“More like anything that you can imagine.” San chuckles, crossing his arms lightly.

Anticipation claws at his chest. Really, anticipation claws at all of their chests. If this is how you’re reacting to Yeosang’s weapons, then they each cannot wait for you to see their own collections. The wonder and awe alone is enough to satiate their original burning jealousy that had arisen at the fact that it was Yeosang who managed to both get you to use his weapon with him first, as well as show you his collection.

“What’s it made out of?” You ask, nothing but curiosity to your tone as you inspect the bow. You know better than to run your fingers along the sharp edges, but that does not stop you from turning it over slightly in your hands while gripping the handle.

“It’s a special kind of metal found only in our realm.” Mingi tells you. “Most of our weapons are made out of it, since it’s the lightest material we have, while also being the most durable.”

“So, it’s like vibranium from the marvel universe?” You quirk a brow at all of them, somewhat knowingly.

“You could say that.” Seonghwa chuckles, nodding his head lightly in response to your words.

“We call it Sage Metal,” Hongjoong says. “It’s the only thing strong enough to cut itself.”

“Wow,” you repeat your awe filled exhalation from earlier. “Can it be worked like any other metal, or is there a special process you have to use while forging it?”

“It can be worked like any other metal.” Seonghwa confirms, a sort of pride shining in his eyes as he watches you with a smile. “It’s got an insanely high boiling point though, so San and Mingi have the easiest time out of all of us working with it.”

At this, your brow quirks.

“We each have materials we work best with.” Mingi shrugs. “Just like we have preferred weapons we like to use.”

“That’s really cool!” You say, handing Yeosang back his bow.

“You should have seen the amount of times our workshops caught fire in the early days.” San jokes, the slightest of upturns to the corner of his lips. “Good thing we’re quick learners.”

“Yeah, that, and you didn’t want to singe all of your hair off again.” Wooyoung laughs, leading to him soon being chased around the small space by the elder male.

You laugh, “I take it that that happened more than once?”

“To all of us.” Seonghwa confirms, voice suddenly a bit strained as he seems to be recalling the memories right this very instant. Subconsciously, he runs his fingers through his hair. “Multiple times.”

A snort of laughter escapes you this time, and you quickly slap a hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles.

Amused quirks of their brows greet you in response, and you find yourself waving your free hand in front of yourself. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just really funny to imagine. I like knowing you guys weren’t always this composed.”

This time, it’s Wooyoung’s turn to snort out a laugh, “Angel, when have you ever known us to be composed around you?”

You take a moment to consider his words, even going so far as to lift a finger in protest as your lips part. Then, you’re nodding, eyebrows raising in agreement, “A good point.”

“Speak for yourself,” Jongho rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as a huff escapes him.

You simply quirk a brow in amusement at him, your one hand coming up to rub almost teasingly at the side of your neck where he bit you all those weeks ago.

Subtly, red begins to creep up his neck.

“Right, well,” he clears his throat, “Shall we move on to the next room?”

A few side-eyed looks are sent the youngest’s way in response, and you swear you see both Mingi’s and Hongjoong’s eyes flash black for the briefest of moments. However, before you can think too much on it, San is practically grabbing your hand and dragging you away from Yeosang. All too eagerly, the younger male leads you back over to the door you entered into the room from. A second later, he’s opening it and guiding you through.

Your eyes immediately light up at seeing all of the different spears, tridents, and javelins lining the walls, amongst other pole based weapons. Again, they’re all made form a range of materials in a variety of colours, and each design manages to take your breath away.

“Go wild,” San leans in to whisper in your ear, just as you hear the door fall shut behind you.

A large, giddy smile pulls onto your lips as you immediately race over to the one wall. There’s a specific spear that’s caught your eye, and the closer you get to the tip, the more detail work you can see carved into it. There seems to be a pattern of sorts etched into the metal, unfamiliar to you with all its swirls and shapes, but beautiful nonetheless.

The entire room is silent as you stand there, observing the intricate detailing of the spear’s tip. Each male watches you fondly, enjoying this moment for as long as they possibly can. Seeing your wonder and marvel at all of the designs makes their hearts race, and knowing that you’re enjoying yourself currently means the world to each and every single one of them.

Finally, you begin to move around the room, San right beside you the whole time.

“I feel like I’m in an art museum or something.” You admit lowly, voice airy and full of awe.

“Well, designing and forging weapons is simply another form of art.” Yunho nods his agreement.

“And you’ve all been making these your whole lives?” You turn to glance at the others from over your shoulder.

Small nods of confirmation greet you in response, subtle smiles pulling at all of their features.

“It’s why we take such great lengths to store them.” Yeosang adds. “Only we can access these rooms, for they are intricately linked, and can only be entered through this one door.”

Nothing but awe shines in your eyes as your lips part. A breathless ‘wow’ escapes you once more, turning lightly in a circle as you take in the whole room.

“Then, there are eight rooms?” You turn back to face them.

“Eight main ones, yes.” San says. “We have many storage rooms, and way too many weapons we no longer use.”

“That’s not to mention each of our own forges which are connected to our storehouses.” Seonghwa comments casually, leaning against the wall right beside the door.

“So, the rooms are almost like a labyrinth of sorts?” You tilt your head slightly in inquiry.

“You could say that.” Hongjoong chuckles. “It’s more of individual blocks of rooms floating in limbo within our domain until we summon the rooms to this door.”

“Ah,” you nod slowly in understanding. “I see.” The corner of your lips quirk upwards. “That’s still really cool.”

Little do you see the small, bashful smiles that tug at their features as you look away for the moment.

Turning back to face the tridents, you take in the various styles lining the wall. Some are placed vertically, while others sit horizontally, displaying the many pikes on each.

Two in particular - one silver with five prongs, and one gold with three prongs - catch your eye. Both are shiny, appearing as if they might be the newest to his collection as they are displayed side by side on a slight angle. It’s as if he purposely hung them like this; to emphasize the set they seem to make together. They’re quite familiar, and as you get closer, you realize why.

The silver one is a perfect replica of Queen Atlanna’s trident from the Aquaman film, while the gold is a perfect replica of Arthur’s own.

The way San is staring at you, his eyes shining with nothing but affection with just a hint of nervousness, says it all.

You smile, grabbing his hand in your own. Softly, you squeeze, warmth flooding your chest as you understand exactly what his intentions are. He made these for you, and him. He means for the two of you to use these together. The set never meant to be separated, or be without the other in battle.

For a brief moment, you allow him passed your void.

My Aquaman. You hum, squeezing his hand once more. Thank you.

My Queen, He mirrors your smile, his shoulders relaxing the slightest bit as he squeezes your hand back. I’m just glad you like them.

Like them? You reply, rather eagerly. Sannie, I love them.

The soft giggle he lets out fills the room, his eyes crinkling in the corners with the weight of his happiness. I’m glad.

Softly, you wiggle your intertwined hands in the space between your bodies. Not even a moment later, you’re turning back to the wall of tridents, lifting your gaze to take in the ones near the top of the wall. That’s when another, near the corner of the room, catches your attention.

A gasp escapes you. “No way.”

Rushing over to the trident, you end up half dragging, half pulling San along with you. You’ve closed your void to him now, so he cannot get a sense of what it truly is that’s caught your attention. That is, until you’re speaking once more.

“So, when were you going to tell me that you have an exact replica of Finnick’s trident from Catching Fire?” You quirk a brow, glancing at him briefly.

San grins, lifting said object off of the wall. “I figured it would be a nice surprise.”

“You seem to be full of nice surprises today, Pretty Boy.” You grin right back, watching as he handles that trident carefully before you.

“So, that’s what you ran off to make that one day,” Jongho mumbles, understanding painting his features. “I was wondering why you were asking me all those questions about her favourite book series.”

“I do love The Hunger Games.” You nod, eyes widening in excitement as San hands you the trident. “Finnick is my favourite character.” Then, a moment’s pause as you look over the weapon in your hands. “Him and Annie deserved better.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Jongho nodding solemnly along with your words.

“I thought it was that set he made that day,” Hongjoong motions back to the Aquaman tridents proudly on display.

“I had to start with something easier,” San replies, sparing a look at all of his brothers.

“You count this design as easy?” You voice, incredulously, as the fingers of your one hand come up to trace the pole gently.

San only chuckles in response, offering you a small shrug of his shoulders.

“I don’t blame him.” Mingi hums, glancing from Jongho to Seonghwa. “There seems to be a recurring theme of making replicas of weapons belonging to your favourite characters and series, Starlight.”

“Speaking from experience, Min?” You place the trident back in its spot, moving over to where the others are standing after having your fill of looking around.

“You’ll see.” He chuckles, moving to wrap his arm around your shoulders.

Only, the youngest placing his hand onto the small of your back beats him to it. You nearly shiver from the contact, the tips of his fingers pressing lightly into your bare skin.

That’s when you remember: you’re still only in your sport’s bra for the moment.

A glare is sent Jongho’s way, not just from Mingi, but from San as well. Your time in his weapon’s hold was far too short for his liking, but at least you enjoyed yourself. A bonus? You’re still beaming as Jongho leads you back through the door.

The moment you step through the threshold to be surrounded by axes of every size, shape, and colour, your lips part in a gasp, “Oh my.”

On one wall, throwing axes and hatchets are displayed. The opposite, everything ranging from a typical fireman’s axe, to the most intricately designed single bladed axes reside. On the final wall, double bladed axes reside, one sticking out more than the rest.

Your eyes widen, practically running out of Jongho’s hold as you see the axe resting in the centre display. It’s dual blades are familiar to you, the metal smooth before giving way to two sets of three triangles hollowed out on either side of the shaft. There, detailed rune work resides, and you find you can only place your hand over your heart in attempts to quell its beating.

“I see what you mean.” You swallow thickly, nearly jumping as you feel Jongho’s hand return to the small of your back.

“It’s quite effective in battle,” Jongho mentions casually, leading you over to the wall of hatches to show you the two other small axes that Gimli has in his arsenal that he’s also taken the liberty to make.

“You’ve already used Gimli’s axe in battle?” There’s nothing but wonder in your voice as you look at him, your whole body practically vibrating in excitement.

“Not yet, technically.” He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “But the simulations have all run smoothly.”

You turn back to the weapons before you, nothing but wonder in your eyes, “Wow.”

You’re starting to notice a slight pattern to the rooms now. All of them seem to be about the same size, with their weapons all lining the walls. Some of them even have a few extra racks to hold certain designs, but for the most part, the main wall houses what you assume to be the favourites, while the other side walls hold the smaller designs. They’re all organized quite well, and from the gleam you can see coming from each polished weapon, you can tell that they are all well taken care of, and maintained regularly.

Something they seem to have in common for all of the things that they care for - a great sense of both responsibility, and attention to detail when looking after them.

“Come, there’s another one I want to show you.” Jongho gently guides you to the opposite wall.

Sticking out his hand, an axe comes flying off of the wall from higher up. It spins in the air as it travels the short distance to his hand, the dark silver of the single edged blade glinting in the light. There seems to be a smaller blade protruding from the opposite side of the handle, acting as a continuation of the main blade on the other side.

The instant it touches Jongho’s hand, your eyes are widening as another gasp escapes you. The veins of gold carved into the blade stand out starkly against the darkness of the silver. The wooden handle is slightly curved, the blade itself covering almost half of the length of the wood.

“No way you made Kratos’ Leviathan Axe.” Your voice holds nothing but awed disbelief as you look over every inch of that axe Jongho holds out for you. “And you can summon it to your hands like he can in the game?”

“We can summon all of our weapons to our hands like that, My Love.” Hongjoong chuckles, eyebrows raising in amusement as he sees the glare Jongho sends him for stealing his thunder.

“How does it work?” You spare a glance at all of them around the room.

“Usually just requires a drop of our blood and a binding spell.” Seonghwa explains.

“So, that’s how you can make your weapons appear out of thin air?” You ask, wonderstruck. “Not cause you’re doing something like reaching through realms, or into a pocket of space?”

Yunho chuckles, along with Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Mingi.

“No, Petal,” he grins fondly at your curious expression. “Unfortunately we cannot do that, but it is how we are able to summon our weapons to us instantly.”

“Does it work on other things, too?” You inquire, nearly dropping the axe in your excitement as Jongho hands it to you.

“It works on anything we bind ourselves to in that way.” Mingi confirms.

“So, if you wanted to summon each other?” You tilt your head slightly as you finally get a good grip on the handle of the axe. “It’d be different than your transportation thingy?”

“Slightly.” Hongjoong confirms. “Think of it as a mere aspect of our teleportation.”

“But still different than a proper summoning spell.” Yeosang adds.

You nod, spinning that axe slowly in your hands as you look over the detail work.

“Would it work in battle?” You glance upwards. “If you ever needed to save each other from a killing blow? Or if one of you needed back up?”

“Normally, we’d just use our teleportation for that.” Mingi shrugs, leaning against an open part of the wall.

“That’s fair,” you hum, eyes shifting their focus back to the axe in your hands.

Where the gems would normally reside, you’ve noticed two other small jewels in their place. One is an opal, and the other is your own birthstone. A fact of which makes you smile, for you know both are meant to represent you and Jongho.

“With this summoning thing, is it automatic if you think of the item?” You hand Jongho the axe back, not wanting to risk damaging it right now as your curiosity is getting the better of you.

“It’s practically second nature to us now.” Wooyoung confirms with a nod. “The closer the object, the easier it is to summon it.”

“That makes sense.” You nod, eyes catching on another intricately carved axe for the moment. “Oh!”

The blade is hollowed in some areas, giving a sort of skeleton design to the metal. It’s intricately carved, the design looking more for style than functionality. However, you know that it’s more than likely made out of that Sage Metal that they told you about earlier. The axe is more than durable, and certainly functional.

“This is beautiful,” you breathe, tracing the spaces in the metal lightly with your index finger. Of course, you make sure not to touch the edges of the metal, not wanting to cut yourself on accident. Who knows how they would react to that.

“Not as beautiful as you.” Jongho whispers lowly into your ear as he steps up behind you, wrapping you in his arms.

A snort of laughter escapes you, lips parting in disbelief.

“Oh, Baby Bear,” you chuckle lowly, shaking your head. “Please don’t say such cringy things to me. You’re more suave than that.”

You don’t have to look at him to see the giant pout Jongho now wears on his features, only deepened by the laughter of his brothers.

“Oh, can it.” He turns to them, a frown on his features. “You were all thinking it, too.”

Again, you shake your head, lovingly this time. “What am I going to do with all of you?”

Wooyoung slides right up to your side, pulling you out of Jongho’s embrace and into his own. Carefully, he begins leading you back to the door.

“Love us unconditionally for all eternity?” There’s a hint of hope in his eyes, swirling within that all too familiar admiration and adoration you’ve become so used to from him.

From all of them.

You hum, pretending to think about it for a moment. You stop just before the closed door, sparing a glance around at all of them briefly.

You smile lovingly, “That can be arranged.”

Low hums of content greet your ears as you reach forward to open the door. You do not need to look at them to know that they are gazing at you with nothing but a tender fondness in their eyes right now. You can feel it surrounding you as you step through the door, flooding your veins and comforting you right down to your very core.

Their unspoken response rings loud and clear through your mind, despite your void still being up. There is no doubt in your mind that they will do the same: love you unconditionally for all eternity. They’ve already proven, in more ways than one, that they do.

The moment you refocus in on the room surrounding you, your eyes catch on bottles upon bottles lining the shelves built into every free inch of the walls of this room. Various colourful liquids reside inside, some even appearing to glow with how vibrantly they shine beneath the lights. Small vials rest beside them, and you think you know what rests inside those.

Understanding flashes across your features and you turn to Wooyoung who practically shakes in excitement beside you.

“So, which one is the deadliest?” You quirk a brow, the corner of your lips twitching upwards.

A giddy smile stretches across his features, which then slowly morphs into a sly smirk, “No hesitation, huh, Angel?”

“I’m curious,” You shrug, nonchalantly.

He hums, “It’s just over here.”

Leading you over to a wall with the darkest liquids residing on the shelves, Wooyoung lifts his free hand. Instantly, a bottle of the blackest void comes rushing to his fingers, thick in texture and hardly sloshing around inside its container. Faintly, you swear you can hear hissing coming from his hand.

“There is no toxin more deadly than my own creations.” He tells you. “This one, though, is the worst.”

“Are you immune?” You glance up at him, a curious glint in your eyes.

“I’m immune to every poison you can imagine, and then some.” He hums, that grin still tugging at his features as he hands you the bottle of that thick black liquid. “But I always have antidotes close at hand.”

He motions around him to the small vials resting beside the bottles.

“We’re not as immune as he is to some of his creations.” Jongho grumbles, his arms crossed over his chest.

“But most of them, you are?” You spare a glance at the rest of them standing over by the door.

“That would be correct, My Love.” Hongjoong nods. “His most deadly, he’s made sure we’re immune to.”

“It’s considerate, considering the amount of times he’s used us as guinea pigs for new concoctions.” San grumbles, narrowing his eyes pointedly at Wooyoung.

You turn your head back to the aforementioned male who seemingly shrinks slightly in his spot.

“You guys volunteer.” He mumbles.

“Yeah,” Yunho rolls his eyes playfully. “That’s cause we never actually know what we’re signing up for.”

“It’s not my fault you all have different side effects than what I intend sometimes!” Wooyoung counters, a large pout pulling at his features. “It’s not like it’s intentional.”

“Sometimes, I feel like it is.” Yeosang states, rather pointedly.

“I don’t know,” you hum. “Isn’t the point of vaccines to inject some of the original virus or disease into your body so you know how to fight off the living cells, were they to enter your system?”

“See. At least My Angel understands my methods!” Wooyoung perks back up, tightening the hold of his one arm that rests around your waist. “There’s a whole process! You can’t just be immune. It’s not in your blood!”

“And it’s in yours?” San’s brow quirks knowingly.

“Actually, yes. It is.” Wooyoung states, rather proudly. “Most of my poisons contain some aspect of my blood in them, whether diluted or pure. That’s why they can be so toxic.”

“That’s really cool!” You chime in, having way too much fun watching the thick liquid slide around in the bottle every time you tip it upside down.

“So, there!” Wooyoung sticks his tongue out playfully at his brothers.

“Are there any kinds of toxins you’ve made that have a different effect than just poisoning the victim?” You turn your attention back to Wooyoung. “You know, like paralysis, or something?”

“Do I ever!” Wooyoung practically bounces on his feet as he leads you to the opposite wall. “This one-“ he points to a bright pink liquid, “is similar to a sleeping drought, but too much will cause the heart to stop for any living thing.”

You nod, staring intently at the bottle in front of you.

“This one-“ he points to an almost transparent green liquid, “causes your muscles to seize and inflicts unbearable pain throughout the body. Great for immobilizing people, but not quite paralysis in it’s literal sense.”

“Oh, wow.” You observe said liquid carefully.

“I also have certain tonics that effect emotions, a person’s state of mind or being, as well as ones that can essentially put people into either a comatose state, or loosen their tongue if we need a ‘physical’ way to gather information for assassinations.” He explains.

“So, you have truth telling serums?” Your brow quirks, the corner of your lips twitching upwards.

“I have any and every type of tonic you can think of.” Wooyoung nods, quite proudly at that.

You nod, eyes never leaving that shelf in front of you.

“So, then,” you begin. “Which is a stronger aphrodisiac? Your blood, or one of your tonics?”

The sound of shattering glass sounds behind you, and you turn to see Seonghwa and Mingi both cursing to themselves. Bottles, or what’s left of them, lay broken at their feet, the sound of hissing greeting your ears as liquid seeps over the ground.

“Careful with those,” Wooyoung waves his hand, cleaning the mess in an instant. “Some mixtures are deadly, even to us, if cross contaminated with each other.”

“We’ll just make sure to knock into the non-fragile glass bottles, next time.” Seonghwa grumbles, wiping off the front of his shirt rather harshly.

“Glass bottles are the most effective containers for acidic poisons, especially if reinforced by magic.” Wooyoung states, matter of factly.

“But they can still shatter on impact with the floor.” Jongho quirks a brow, matter of factly.

“You win some, you lose some.” Wooyoung shrugs, before turning his attention back to you for the moment. “To answer your question, Angel, it would be this one right here.” A bottle with a liquid as clear as day is instantly in his one hand. “This is the strongest aphrodisiac we own, besides our blood.”

“Oh?” Your lips twitch upwards in the corner, brow quirking. “So, they’re on par with one another, then?”

“Not quite,” Wooyoung’s eyes begin to swirl with that all too familiar darkness. “This is just a little stronger, since it’s undiluted in that sense.”

You hum, “Interesting.”

“Why?” San’s voice, low and gravelly reaches your ears as his hooded gaze meets your own. “Want to give it a try?”

All eight sets of eyes are on you in an instant, darkness swirling within.

You smirk, “Perhaps some other time.”

Eight low growls reach your ears as you walk back over to the door. You can feel the weight of their heated stares on you, even as you glance towards them from over your shoulder.

“Shall we?” You drawl out, a teasing flick to your brows.

Yunho seems to be the first to recompose himself, quickly moving over to you and placing his hand onto the skin of your upper back. Gently, he guides you through the door, clearing his throat all the while.

“I don’t tend to use many weapons, so my storehouse is a bit of the miscellaneous designs we keep for the occasional use.” He explains. “I do tend to like shredding things, whether physical, or mental, though.”

Again, your eyes light up as you take in the various unconventional designs around you. You can tell they’ve experimented with multiple angles and materials, each weapon given certain liberties over the rest. Everything from large hammers to thin whips with metal spikes attached to them line the walls, allowing you to see the various techniques they all know how to use in battle depending on the weapon.

Serrated blades, tools, saws, and even some scythes and rifles also line the walls.

Your brow quirks at the cage of guns off to the side.

“For our assassinations, mainly.” Yunho is quick to tell you, to which you’re immediately nodding your head in understanding.

“Who’s the best sniper?” You turn to them, looking over each male individually.

“Seonghwa and Hongjoong are amazing.” Wooyoung immediately boasts, a proud smile tugging at his lips.

“Really, we’ve got nothing on Mingi, though.” Hongjoong says, averting his gaze somewhat bashfully as red creeps up his neck.

At Seonghwa’s nod in agreement, you turn to the aforementioned male. Lightly, a grin pulls at the corner of your lips.

You let Mingi in.

I always knew you were way cooler than James Bond. You meet his gaze with an affectionate look of your own. Definitely proves it.

Mingi giggles, brushing tenderly against your mind with his own as his eyes crinkle at the sides.

You turn back to the main wall of weapons. “You all contribute to this stockade, or is it more trial and error?”

“A little bit of both.” San says, the others nodding in agreement. “Sometimes we even get certain materials from our friends that we play around with when creating weapons.”

At this, your brow quirks.

“Well, sometimes we aren’t simply given things.” Wooyoung chuckles. “Like when Jongho used the teeth from the snakes of the last gorgon leader to make a tiny mace.”

Jongho simply glares at Wooyoung in response.

“Not going to lie, that’s pretty cool.” You reply, nonchalantly. “Do you guys have any transforming weapons?”

“Mingi made the Beastcutter from Bloodborne.” Seonghwa comments casually.

Your jaw drops. “You did not.”

The second Mingi sticks his hand out, a weapon flies off of the wall. Sure enough, holding it out to you reveals it to be a life-size replica of the Beastcutter from Bloodborne.

“Holy shit.” There is no hiding the awe in your eyes as he passes it to you, you giggling like a maniac soon after.

“If I recall, Mingi’s made a lot of replicas of From Soft weapons.” Yeosang adds, humming lightly to himself.

“You have?” That awe filled gaze of yours is back on Mingi, who’s neck begins to turn bright red as he nods. “That’s incredible!”

He lifts a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. “It’s nothing.”

“Moonlight, I wish you wouldn’t downplay your skills sometimes.” You comment, patting his arm affectionately. Then, you’re practically bouncing on your feet as the Beastcutter is returned to its original spot. “Now, show me, show me, show me!”

Mingi chuckles lowly, “Of course, Starlight.” He leads you back to the door, his arm gently finding purchase around your waist. “Right this way.”

Carefully, Mingi guides you through the door and into his own storehouse of weapons, his brothers following closely behind. The sound of the door shutting is synonymous with your gasp, your eyes practically shining as you take in the sets of weapons lining the walls, mainly consisting of dual blades.

At one particular set that is bright red, the edges of the blades artfully chipped, a dramatic gasp escapes you.

“No way!” You point at the blades, scurrying over to them while hopping around on your feet. “You made the Rivers of Blood from Elden Ring into a two sword set?”

“I had to compromise a bit on length, but the design is the same.” He shrugs, plucking them off of the wall and giving them each a spin in his hands.

You practically swoon as a result. “Somebody pinch me, I’m in heaven.”

Low chuckles resound around the room, each male loving how your excitement never seems to cease for even one moment. The fact that Mingi continues to captivate you currently by performing small tricks with the blades has them beaming. Though, a few, such as Hongjoong, Jongho, and Seonghwa, all wish it were them that were impressing you in such a way instead.

Again, Mingi chuckles, placing the Rivers of Blood back in their spot before pulling two other katanas off of the wall. They also seem familiar to you, though you can’t seem to figure out why.

“I dubbed these ones my Deadpool set.” Mingi explains with a grin, giving them each a spin in his hands.

“I was wondering why they looked so familiar,” You hum, nodding slightly. “If you pull out the Blades of Chaos next, I might need to sit down.”

The grin Mingi wears is nothing short of gleeful as he replaces the katanas on the wall. In a blink, he holds out his hands, chains wrapping around his forearms before a dual set of particularly carved blades appear held in his grip.

You physically feel your legs give out beneath you, a hand coming up to press against your forehead as you fall backwards.

Luckily, Yunho appears just in time to catch you.

“I’m dreaming.” You mutter lowly, nothing but awe in your voice. “This is a dream, and I’m in heaven.”

More fond chuckles greet your ears.

“It’s a shame the blades are more for show than anything,” Mingi somewhat pouts. “Still worth seeing every one of your reactions, though, Starlight.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard something about them being impractical in real life cause of the chains or something.” You manage to right yourself on your feet, affectionately patting Yunho’s hands which he keeps wrapped around your waist. “The blades could still be effective on their own, though. Can they not?”

The grin that stretches across Mingi’s face says it all.

“Now, if you go around bathing them in fire as you use them, I might faint for real.” You comment casually.

His eyebrow quirks, “Promise?”

“You want me to faint?” You snort out a laugh.

“If it’s from something cool that I’ve done,” Mingi shrugs, storing the blades back in their place. “Why not?”

“Touché.” You hum, sparing another glance around the room. Your eyes catch briefly on a set of blades, curved to resemble human spines. You smile. “Seriously guys, this is incredible.”

“We’re just glad you’re enjoying yourself, Dearest.” Yeosang smiles, nothing but tender fondness reflected in his eyes.

“Like I said, this is one of the best days of my life.” You breathe out. “I’ve always had a fascination with different types of weapons since I was small. It’s nice not having to hide my excitement about them anymore. Especially about ones that I long since thought could only be used in fictional settings, or for cosplay.”

“Hearing you rant and rave about certain styles of weapons when we watch those…” Jongho grimaces slightly, irritation shining briefly on his features, “Let’s Players, sticks with us, you know.”

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous of Jacksepticeye, Baby Bear.” You quirk a brow.

At the few grumbles you hear, you begin to laugh.

“You seem to be overtly fond of him.” Hongjoong mutters lowly.

You shrug. “He’s funny.”

Low growls sound from Yeosang, Mingi, San, and Seonghwa.

“Again, just because you don’t like him, doesn’t mean I don’t.” You remind them.

“That’s the problem, Angel.” Wooyoung mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The fact I find him entertaining?” You quirk a brow, noticing how they remain quiet for the most part. “Wait, is this why you all started playing God of War and Bloodborne? So, I wouldn’t watch his play-throughs anymore?”

“No.” Jongho answers, much too quickly.

“We also needed to get better insight of the weapons when making them.” Mingi says, matter of factly.

A smack is given to the elder male from the youngest as you stare at them knowingly. Then, your eyes seemingly glaze over, deep in thought.

“You said you make weapons out of materials sometimes gifted to you from others, right?” Your brow is furrowed as you step out of Yunho’s embrace, much to the male’s discontent.

“That’s correct.” Yeosang confirms.

You hum to yourself, beginning to pace back and forth as your mind reels.

“How strong are dragon teeth?” You pause, lifting your head to spare a glance at all of them.

Understanding flashes behind their eyes.

“They are extremely durable and versatile, My Divine.” Seonghwa replies, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Some of the strongest bones in all the realms. Other than their horns, of course.”

“And baby dragon’s teeth?” You quirk a brow.

“Not as durable, but strong all the same.” Yunho confirms.

Again, you hum, shifting to face Hongjoong. “Can I see Mon’s teeth for a moment?”

By the time you’ve extended your hands, Hongjoong has that green cloth placed upon your palms. You turn just in time to see a wooden table appear beside you, the guys all moving in to stand around it as you work.

Carefully, you unwrap the package that is Mon’s baby teeth. Once you have that cloth covering the main portion of the table, you begin arranging them in a particular pattern. Slowly, a triangle begins to form, Mon’s teeth outlining the shape.

“Our conversation just now gave me an idea,” you begin, righting yourself so you’re no longer hunched over the table. “A bit literal for serrated teeth, but I think it works well.”

A gentle hand is placed onto your lower spine curtesy of Mingi. Sparing a glance at him reveals his lips to be tugging upwards into a proud smile.

“I don’t know how the logistics will work, but if you can make the Beastcutter, then I’m sure you can make a Saw Spear,” You meet Mingi’s gaze. “No?”

A pride swirls behind his gaze, his chest puffing out the slightest bit. “I think that can be arranged.”

The smile that takes over your features lights up the entire room, excitement pouring off of you in waves. “Really?”

“Most definitely.” San confirms with a nod. “We can all help with this one.”

“You’d all really do this for me?” You spare a glance at all of them, noticing how tenderly they look at you.

“Of course!” Wooyoung confirms eagerly. “It’s not every day Our Queen asks us to make her her own weapon.”

You share an excited giggle.

“Listen, I want to be able to have something to call my own,” you grin. “Preferably not just a bat. I’m not sure how intimidating our enemies will find me only wielding a weapon like that.”

“Believe me, Baby,” San chuckles. “You’re plenty intimidating with a bat.”

“So I’ve heard.” You smile slyly.

“We could make you a personalized bat, too, Dearest.” Yeosang offers. “Anything and everything your heart desires, know that it’s yours.”

Lifting your head to meet his gaze, your eyes crinkle as your smile morphs into a loving one.

“How about we start with this for now?” You say softly. “I’m sure I’ll think of more when the time comes. Believe me when I say there’s no shortages of weapon’s designs in my mind. But for now, there’s still two more main storehouses to see, and I’d also love to see a forge if there’s time. I am getting hungry.”

“Well then,” Yunho nods, noticing how his brothers all wear the same look of affection spreading across his face in this moment. “What are we waiting for?”

Leaving Mon’s teeth laid out on the table at their request, you walk back over to the door. This time, it’s Hongjoong that opens it, stepping through to hold it as you follow shortly behind.

If you’re being honest with yourself, his and Seonghwa’s rooms are the ones you’re most anticipating. Long since have you fantasized about what their own blades will look like, and now, you find your whole body shaking with excitement as you step through the threshold.

The instant you see the wall of daggers before you, a loud gasp escapes you. Your hands come up to cover your mouth, eyes flitting all over the weapons on display before you. Everything from ceremonial daggers, to jewelled blades rest before you in an array of designs. There even seems to be a small display case in front of the main wall with a dagger inside, resting upon a cushion. It looks familiar to you, and as you get closer, you realize why.

There seems to be a blade missing from the set, but you say nothing. Still, you cannot help but to zero in on that cushion, noting the slight indent where the second dagger should reside.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Hongjoong stiffen, but you opt to say nothing for now.

Sets of throwing knives line the one wall, some collections housing upwards of twenty blades. You take the time to observe everything, walking slowly around the room and taking it all in. Each blade manages to take your breath away, your heart racing erratically in your chest as excitement courses through your veins.

Hongjoong, you notice, still remains unusually quiet. In fact, if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks nervous, especially when you glance towards that display case in front of the main wall every now and again.

Turning to the others, you smile lightly, “Do you mind giving us a minute?”

A few quirked brows are sent your way in response, but they comply, nonetheless.

“We’ll meet you in your storeroom, okay, Mars?” You catch his gaze, noticing how he nods in understanding as soon as the words escape you.

Slowly, you watch as they all step through the door, and only once you see it fall shut, the small click resounding throughout the room, do you turn back to face Hongjoong.

There’s an almost reserved look in his eyes as he avoids your gaze. Slowly, he shifts from foot to foot, his hands clasped in front of himself.

Your expression falls.

Silently, you approach him, gently lifting his hands into your own.

“What’s wrong, My Love?” Your inquiry is soft, giving his hands a small squeeze in order to coax him to meet your eyes.

He’s unusually silent as he shakes his head, staring intently at your intertwined hands.

Normally, this room is a huge sense of pride for him. However, as soon as he saw you glance the display case with only the one dagger inside, his heart plummeted. Selfishly, he kept it there in its spot because he could not bring himself to get rid of it. Now though, he fears he made the wrong call, for that pillar acts as a stark reminder of every misdeed he’s ever performed. That case stands almost mockingly; a tombstone that could have been yours.

“Hongjoong,” Worry pulls at your brow as you lift a hand up to guide his gaze to yours. Tenderly, your thumb brushes against his cheek. “You’re unusually quiet right now, and I’m extremely concerned. I thought you’d be ecstatic to show me your collection today.”

He purses his lips, and you can see a hint of fear flash behind his eyes.

“Is this about the set of daggers in that case?” Your tone is nothing but gentle.

The way he stiffens beneath your touch says it all.

The way that you can tell that this is affecting him negatively has your heart squeezing painfully in your chest. It’s clear to you that Miyeon still has her claws buried deep within his guilt, and all you want to do is reassure him as best you can in this moment. Only, you’re not quite sure how.

“They were-“ he clears his throat of the roughness that resides in his voice, “They were meant to be ours.”

Your gaze shifts to the small display case where that lone blade sits.

“The daggers,” You breathe.

He nods. “I made them for us.”

You squeeze his one hand once more, gently guiding him over to the display case so you can get a closer look.

Still, he refuses to so much as glance at that singular dagger.

“I wanted that one to be yours, and the other to be mine, but she-“ his voice hitches, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t think I could ever look at my dagger the same way again. Not after what she did to you with it. Yet, I can’t bring myself to destroy the set. It held so much meaning to me when I made them, that I just-”

He doesn’t finish his thought. Instead, his shoulders droop and he turns the slightest bit away from you.

Shame weighs heavy on his shoulders, regret adding its toll.

You take a moment to observe the dagger in the case. It’s certainly familiar, but you notice slight discrepancies to the one you’ve already seen. This dagger’s blade is slightly thinner, the handle carved in the opposite direction to its matching pair. You can tell that they’re meant to be put together. A set, never to be separated.

“I’m glad you didn’t.” You turn to him, and your words finally draw a reaction from him. “Destroy them, I mean.”

“My Love?” There’s clear surprise on his features, not having expected you to say anything along those lines.

If Hongjoong is being honest with himself, he expected you to start cursing him out for not getting rid of the very weapon that caused you such harm. He was certain that you’d be screaming at him, asking him why he would keep such vile weapons around after what they did to you.

To say your tender look of affection shocks him would be a great understatement.

“You still have the other dagger, then?” You ask him softly, rubbing your thumb tenderly over the back of his hand.

Slowly, albeit hesitantly, he nods.

“May I see it?” The question is gentle in all meaning of the sense, making sure to keep your voice low as you look at him with kind eyes.

A moment’s hesitation before he nods. Then, he has the other dagger in his free hand, holding the handle out for you to take.

Meeting his gaze, you smile assuringly at him. Maintaining eye contact, you gently slip that dagger out of his hold, gripping it firmly in your one hand. Only then do you spare a glance down at one of the weapons that had caused you such pain all those long weeks ago.

Just as you thought, this one is slightly bigger, the blade both a little thicker and longer in length.

“This one was meant to be yours?” You lift your gaze to his, noticing how intently he watches you in this very moment.

He nods.

You let your intertwined hands fall to rest in the space between your bodies, letting them sway gently back and forth.

“Will you hold onto mine?” There’s nothing but a hopeful gleam to your eyes as you watch him nod.

Slowly, he unlocks the case. Once the glass is opened, he lifts your dagger out with the utmost of care, holding it delicately in his hand. The way that he’s standing perfectly mirrors you in every way, and you cannot help the small upturn of your lips at that fact.

“Hongjoong, I wish to keep these daggers together,” you begin. At the way you see his lips part in protest, you’re quick to continue, “She was the one who used it to hurt me, not you. I know for a fact that you would rather carve out your own heart than bring me any harm. Your dagger didn’t hurt me. She did.”

The hitch in his breath is audible, even to you.

“I know you may not have intended it this way, but I wish to keep this one as my own.” You lift the dagger in your hand slightly. “And I wish for you to use that one. Let me reclaim the weapon that was used to hurt me, and know that it is meant to symbolize your undying loyalty and protection. Let me wield you in battle, just as you will wield me when the time comes.”

The way your eyes flash over to that dagger held in his hand as you speak those words says it all.

“These daggers are for us, meant to protect each other.” You state, rather firmly. “I think it’s time we allow them the proper use. Don’t you?”

He swallows thickly, his lips parting as tears line his eyes. He squeezes your hand.

“Yes,” he breathes, nodding his head once quite firmly. He blinks, and the first of his tears begin to fall down his cheeks. “Yes, My Queen. Always.”

Softly, you smile at him, guiding him into your embrace as he buries his face into the side of your neck. You can feel his sobs wracking his body as he holds onto you tightly, clinging to you both for dear life, but also in gratitude for what this moment means to the both of you. No longer will you allow Miyeon to control either of you. It’s time to reclaim that which has been stolen. All of it.

Pulling away from him slightly, you stare deeply into his eyes. The corners of your lips tug upwards in a loving smile, and you manage to brush some stray hairs out of his eyes.

“I am so deeply in love with you, My King.” There is no waver in your voice as you say this, pouring every ounce of sincerity that you can into your words. “Know that nothing will ever change that.”

“My Queen,” The words are but a whisper on his lips as he pulls you tighter against him. “Thank you, for believing in me.”

The smile you offer him says it all, nothing but tender love and affection shining within your gaze as you lean forward to kiss him gently. A kiss which he is all too eager to reciprocate, letting the movement of his lips over your own tell you of all the ways in which he loves you. The ways in which he will always love you, and appreciate all that you mean to him.

All too soon, you’re pulling away in order to rest your forehead on his.

“The daggers are beautiful, My Love,” Your words are but a soft caress against his lips. “Thank you for keeping them as one.”

Hongjoong manages a small smile in response. “I am simply happy you like them, My Queen.”

“I love them, Joongie.” Your reply is immediate, pulling the slightest bit back from him to admire the detailing on the handles once more. “It means a lot to me that you made them for us.”

“Of course, My Love,” Gently, he returns them both to their spots on top of the cushion inside the display. He’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again. In a soft voice, he admits, “I made them the day I knew I wanted you to become Our Queen.” He turns to you, eyes holding nothing but love for you swirling within that familiar darkness. “My Queen.”

Your expression softens, “All the more reason to keep them, and use them as you’ve always intended.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” He chuckles lowly, offering you his hand as he steps in beside you.

Without any hesitation, you place your hand in his.

“I am curious, though,” you hum. “Did you keep the other one? The jewelled one from David’s shop?”

A blink, and that familiar dagger is in his free hand.

Your eyes go wide, a thrum of excitement going through you.

“I think it’s time it was given back to the woman who always deserved it,” He grins, a knowing glint in his eyes as he holds out the handle for you to take. “Don’t you?”

Eagerly, you nod your head, reaching out to take that dagger into your free hand.

You take a moment to look it over, twirling that blade in your grip lightly. A small smile rests on your features, eyes sparkling as you finally grasp the handle firmly in your hand.

Little do you see how fondly Hongjoong watches over you in this very moment. Though, from the way you lift your head to meet his gaze, you manage to catch the very look resting on his features.

“Thank you, Joongie,” You lean in to place an affectionate kiss upon his cheek. “This truly means a lot to me.”

“Your happiness means the world to me, My Love.” Hongjoong smiles, giving your one hand still held in his a small squeeze. “I’m simply glad you can finally have everything you’ve always desired.”

“It’s because of you, you know.” You turn to face him just as you reach the door. “I’ve only been able to achieve this because of you. Because of all of you.”

Hongjoong’s heart warms, and he leans in to place a lingering kiss upon your forehead. “Then, how wonderful it will be to spend the rest of eternity with one another.”

Your own heart swells with nothing but happiness, “How wonderful indeed.”

With a final squeeze of your intwined hands, you exit the room.

The moment you step into Seonghwa’s own weapon’s hold, you’re greeted by chaos. Both him and Mingi appear to be sparring with some of his swords, while Yeosang chases both San and Wooyoung around with a sword of his own. Yunho stands off to the side with Jongho, both males shaking their heads with their arms crossed over their chests.

“Did I miss something?” You quirk a brow playfully, successfully drawing their attention to both you and Hongjoong standing just inside the threshold of the door.

“Wooyoung and San were being smartasses, as usual.” Jongho shakes his head once more.

“Hey!” Said males whine at the same time.

“Then, why was Yeosang chasing you with- oh my god, is that Major General Armstrong’s sword?” You practically shove Wooyoung out of the way to take the sword from Yeosang’s grip.

Unfortunately, you fail to miss the large pout that now pulls onto Hongjoong’s features as you essentially leave him in the dust in order to observe this new sword. Nor do you see the pout that Wooyoung wears as he looks to you with large, pleading eyes.

With your dagger held in your one hand, and the sword in the other, you take in the detailing of the metal. The floral design engraved on the length of the blade takes your breath away, and you begin shaking in excitement once more.

Then, you’re nodding to yourself almost subconsciously, “Very beautiful. Very powerful.”

“I’m glad you like it, My Divine.” Seonghwa chuckles affectionately, coming to stand beside you as the others return to their respective spots near the door. “Come, there’s plenty more where that came from.”

Lifting your gaze, Seonghwa cannot deny the hitch in his breath as he sees your wondrous expression light up your features. The awe alone he can see says it all.

He swallows thickly.

Handing him the sword back, you finally take in the other blades residing on the surrounding walls.

“No way you have a wall full of just katanas- are those Zoro’s?” Another squeal leaves you as you rush over, gazing intently at the multiple swords lined up in a row.

Sure enough, upon closer inspection, the katanas in front of you correspond to the multiple ones Zoro has used throughout the course of One Piece.

“Seriously, I’m in heaven.” You sigh, dreamily.

Low chuckles sound from behind you, and you can feel all of their fond gaze on you as you dart around the room.

“No way!” A dramatic gasp escapes you as a particular blade catches your eye from across the room. “You made Sting?”

Just as you did with Yeosang’s bow in the first room, you go to reach out for it. Only, you hesitate, not sure if you should actually touch these weapons or not.

“Go ahead, My Divine,” Seonghwa chuckles, stepping in right beside you and placing a loving hand onto the skin of your lower back. “Please, don’t hold back.”

Practically shoving the dagger in your hands in his direction, you silently tell him to hold onto the jewelled blade while you lift Sting carefully off its display. Nothing but wonder resides in your gaze as you take in the detail work of the craftsmanship. The blade is unusually light, too, just as described in the book.

“If you tell me that this blade can also glow blue, I can and will faint right now.” You lift your gaze to his own, excitement pouring off of you in waves.

A soft chuckle falls from Seonghwa’s lips, “We’ll have to go visit some orcs, then.”

Your lips part, eyes widening as you visibly begin to shake. Not even a moment later, you’re zooming around the room, muttering to yourself about this being the best day of your life once more.

Hopping around the storehouse, you take in the rest of the swords lining the walls. You cannot keep the smile off of your face, almost subconsciously muttering a tune to yourself as you browse the selection of weapons before you.

“Oh, the wonders of weapons,” you hum, no longer paying any mind to the eight other males in the room, of whom watch you fondly. “The wonders of weapons of Kings.” You giggle. “My Lovely Kings.”

They smile.

“My lovers are eight powerful, demonic Kings.” Your voice is low, but they still hear you loud and clear. A fact of which sets their hearts racing inside of their chests. “And I’m their One and Only Queen.”

Eight low growls of approval sound from behind you. Sparingly, you glance over your shoulder, offering them each a blissful smile.

“Today is a most wonderful day.” You continue to hum to yourself, bouncing around on the soles of your feet from one spot to another. “Spending it with the people I love.”

Rumbles of content fill the room, and you bound over to the eight of them with a vibrant smile lighting up your face. You take the time to give each one of them a kiss on the cheek, muttering how much you love them each time you do. A sentiment which is immediately echoed by each male as soon as you address them individually.

Still, you cannot prevent yourself from rocking excitedly on your feet as you see the large, dopey grins they offer you in return.

“Thank you.” You take the time to meet all of their gazes. “For today. For everything.” Your heart swells in your chest. “You all seriously don’t know how happy you make me.”

“The feeling is very much mutual, Petal.” Yunho hums, the same warmth that is currently flooding his chest heard clearly in his voice as he addresses you.

“We’re just glad you’re enjoying yourself, Dearest.” Yeosang adds, clasping his hands almost lovingly in front of himself as he gazes at you fondly.

You nod, vigorously at that. “Can I see one of your forges, now?”

“Of course, My Divine.” Seonghwa extends his free hand out to you, your dagger still held tightly in his opposite hand.

“Oh, thanks for holding onto that for me, Mars.” You reach over, taking your dagger back from him as he walks you both over to the door. “I-“

Your words die in your throat as the door opens to reveal a grandiose space. There’s a large wooden table that lines the one wall, the forge worked into the opposite corner. A floor to ceiling window resides near the forge itself, displaying a beautiful field with mountains in the distance. Hardly any clouds line the sky, the sun shining and illuminating the space all around.

Various weapons line the room, stacked on top of each other or resting against the wall where various tools and materials hang. There even seems to be a closet off to the side, which you would bet anything houses even more weapons that are currently being worked on, or have even been finished.

“Wow,” You breathe out, nothing but wonder on your features as you take it all in.

Carefully, you place your dagger onto the top of the wooden table off to the side, spinning around a few times to take in the full room around you. Seonghwa, of course, gives you enough space to do so, watching you with such a tender look in his eyes.

“Do all of your workshops look the same?” You turn to face them.

“More, or less.” Jongho tilts his head slightly from side to side. “Some of our tools vary due to the types of weapons we forge, but the setup is pretty much identical.”

“That’s so cool!” You say, awe clear in your voice.

“If you peek through the window, you can actually see the outlines of all of our forges in the hills.” Yunho motions with his head for you to take a look.

Instantly, you’re at the window, eyes scanning the area to see multiple windows buried seemingly inside the hills just outside.

“Woah,” You turn back around to face them. “That must come in handy when you need to borrow things from each other while welding.”

“It is quite convenient.” Mingi nods in confirmation. “Especially if one of the others has a material you need while crafting.”

“I can imagine.” You hum, eyes flitting over the table and taking in all of the little trinkets scattered about.

There seems to be a whetting stone placed near the corner, some scraps of black leather cut into pieces along the top. Some tools rest here and there, but for the most part, the space is clean.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you see Hongjoong nudge Seonghwa with his elbow.

You quirk a brow.

Seonghwa clears his throat.,“Actually, I have two things I wish to give you, My Divine.”

“You do?” There’s nothing but wonder in your tone as you watch him move around his workspace.

For a brief moment, Seonghwa enters that little closet at the side of the room. When he comes back, both of his hands are held behind his back.

You blink, curiosity getting the better of you as you attempt to see what he could be hiding.

“This one, we all agreed on a long time ago.” He says, sharing a brief look around the room at his brothers who all smile softly at you in response. “I reinforced it, so it no longer has to be simply decorative. Unless you desire it to be.”

In one swift movement, Seonghwa pulls his right hand out from behind his back. A familiar silver sword rests there, jewels glinting in the light.

The gasp that escapes you is immediate as you see the matching sword to that dagger you had placed on his work table resting in his hand.

Ever so carefully, you reach forward, taking that sword from his grip as your eyes shine with nothing but love.

“My Kings?” You glance around at all of them, noticing how they all stare at you the exact same way you’re looking at them.

“Anything and everything your heart could ever desire, Angel,” Wooyoung whispers. “It’s yours.”

“I-“ you swallow thickly, admiring that sword now held in your hands. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, My Love,” Hongjoong smiles assuringly at you. “Know that we will always provide for you, in whatever ways that we can.”

“We love spoiling you, Baby,” San adds softly. “Knowing these are things that you’ve always wanted… well… it means a lot to us to see you happy; to make you happy.”

Your lips part, but no words escape you.

“Just let us take care of you.” Yeosang voices lowly, all seven of them nodding along to his words.

Again, you swallow the emotions building in your throat. Your grip tightens on that pommel in your hands, and you manage to blink away your building tears of joy.

“Thank you.” You take your time to meet each of their gazes. “I mean it. You all never fail to go above and beyond for me, and I will always cherish these moments, these gifts, more than you’ll ever know.”

Their smiles widen, hearts beating erratically in their chests.

“We’re just love seeing you happy, Starlight.” Mingi repeats San’s words from only moments ago, nothing but sincerity shining within all of their eyes.

“I still have one more sword to gift you, today, My Divine.” Suddenly, Seonghwa looks the slightest bit more nervous as he stands before you. “That is, if you’ll have it.”

“My Mars,” you hum, affection dripping from your gaze, “You could gift me a wooden sword, and I would cherish it until the end of time.”

Teasingly, Seonghwa’s eyes narrow as he spares a glance around the room. “Alright, who told?”

Almost instantly, Jongho starts whistling inconspicuously while San, Wooyoung, and Mingi all avoid Seonghwa’s gaze.

You giggle, and like every time before, it is music to every single one of their ears.

“It took me quite a few tries,” he begins, keeping his voice low and tone steady, “But I had to make sure it was perfect.”

In the blink of an eye, Seonghwa presents you with the other sword he had been holding behind his back this whole time. He rests it carefully over his palms, holding it out to you with loving eyes as he watches your every reaction carefully.

The sheath is easily recognizable to you, the leather strap wrapped meticulously around it just as it is when the sword gets presented in the movie. The handle is every bit as gorgeous as you remember, the black leather wrapping around the pommel perfectly placed as the worked silver glints in the light.

Without taking your eyes off of that sword, you pass the one currently in your hands to the closest person beside you. Easily, Mingi takes it from you as you step in closer to Seonghwa.

You swallow your building emotions.

With shaking hands, you reach out to grasp that sword. You take one small step back before you’re unsheathing it in one fluid movement, the etchings in the metal bringing tears to your eyes.

Before you, held in your very grip, is an exact replica of Andúril.

“You made this for me?” Your voice comes out small, your overwhelming emotions threatening to choke you out at any second.

Briefly, your gaze flits from the markings on the blade to Seonghwa’s face, noting how he nods softly.

The whole time, his gaze never leaves you for a moment. Never does he want to miss even a single second of the wondrous expression you wear on your face. The fact that he can hear your heart racing says it all.

“Seonghwa, I-“ Your grip tightens around the handle of the sword, meeting his gaze once more. “When?”

He shuffles slightly from foot to foot, the others remaining silent out of respect for the moment being shared between the both of you right now.

“I started that day we got back from the mall.” His honest reply nearly sends you to your knees.

Again, your eyes trail over every inch of that sword before you. Your heart swells with nothing but love, feeling as if it’s close to bursting as you take in every minuscule detail of the blade. You can tell that he put in a tremendous amount of effort into forging this weapon for you, and given its meaning to you in its entirety, you know that he spoke true when he said that he wanted to make it perfect.

For you.

He made this for you.

Something within your eyes flash, and you’re quick to sheathe that sword. The whole time, you never break eye contact with the male across from you, and despite the pounding of your heart that you can hear in your ears, a sense of complete calm washes over you.

“You seven,” you don’t even spare them so much as a glance of acknowledgement. “Out. Now.”

Words of protest die on Wooyoung’s lips as he gets pushed out of the room by both Jongho and Yeosang. Of course, just before the door closes, Seonghwa does not fail to miss the wink Yunho sends his way.

The sound of the door clicking shut is synonymous with the movement of Seonghwa’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“You made this for me,” you begin lowly. “After hearing me say once that I have long since desired a replica of my own.”

He nods. Slowly.

“You didn’t hesitate for one moment to make this for me, did you?” Your inquiry is soft, despite the heated stare you wear.

He shakes his head.

You motion for him to come forward with your finger, backing yourself towards that wooden table as he begins stalking towards you. Not once does he break eye contact, obeying your every command without hesitation.

“Of all of the grandiose gesture you could make for me, this is the one that means the most.” You tell him honestly, your voice near breathless as you finally hit that table. Resting the sword against its side, you motion him closer. “There are no words to describe what this means to me; no gift more significant than that which you have just given.”

The moment he steps into you, your arms are around his shoulders, pulling him in closer. Softly, your fingers thread through the hair at the base of his neck, and you notice how his suddenly hooded eyes continuously spare fleeting glances down to your lips. You smirk.

“A simple ‘thank you’ is not enough to convey what this means to me.” You whisper lowly, surprising him by flipping your positions so that he’s the one pressed against the table. “What you mean to me, Seonghwa.”

One of your hands sneaks down his torso, sending a shiver up his spine as he feels you caressing his side. Then, you pull him even closer, hoisting his thigh up so that his leg wraps around your waist.

“How about it, My King?” You hum, voice nothing but sultry as your lips barely ghost over the skin of his own. “Will you allow me to demonstrate my gratitude for you?”

“Yes,” The nod of his head is immediate as he all but whimpers out a response. “Please.”

The corner of your lips twitches faintly upwards before you’re closing the rest of the distance between your two bodies. The way you hold onto him, and he to you, is nothing short of desperate, kissing one another like you are the very air you both need to breathe.

Carefully, you help him sit on top of the table, allowing for him to fully wrap his legs around your waist. Unashamedly, his hands roam over your body, pulling you in closer as his fingers dance across your skin.

The moan he lets out as you take his bottom lip between your teeth sets your heart fluttering inside of your chest.

“You are incredible, Seonghwa,” you mumble out against the skin of his lips. “And so, unbelievably beautiful.”

He moans, legs tightening around your waist as his stomach twists pleasantly.

“Shouldn’t-“ he gasps as you begin trailing your lips over his jaw, soon moving to bite at the skin of his neck, “Shouldn’t I be telling you this.”

“Some other time,” you promise, placing a lingering kiss over his racing pulse. “Right now, I want to worship you.”

The shudder that wracks his entire body does not go unnoticed by you. The fact that you can physically feel his skin heating beneath your touch says it all.

“My Queen-“

“Shhh,” you’re quick to cut him off with a peck to his lips. “Just let me take care of you.”

You pull away only the slightest bit to stare deeply into his eyes. Silently, you check in with him, brushing against that familiar blue string in your mind to make sure that he’s okay.

“Please,” he swallows. “Don’t stop.”

The tender smile that pulls at your lips says it all.

Instantly, you move back in to continue biting and sucking at his neck, your hands sneaking up his shirt and eliciting another moan from his lips. The desperate way he clings to you has a pleasant feeling building within your core, spreading outwards and warming your entire body.

To know that he wants you, that he needs you in this moment means the world to you.

You wouldn’t have it any any other way.

Bringing your lips back to his, you swallow all of his sounds, enjoying every small whimper and moan he gives you. The way he gasps as your one hand slides up his thigh to pull him flush against you by his ass is like music to your ears.

“My Seonghwa,” you hum, slowly grinding your hips against his own.

A choked moan of your name slips passed his lips, “Yours.”

“That’s right, My Dove,” you nip lightly at his ear, feeling how he shudders once more in your hold. “You’re mine.”

“All yours,” he whimpers, burying his face into the side of your neck.

Slowly, you bring your one hand between your two bodies, beginning to palm his semi-hard cock over his jeans. The fact that he seems to desperately grind against your hand in time with your movements makes you smirk.

“My Beautiful Dove,” you hum, adding the slightest bit more pressure to your palm as you move over his clothed cock. “Do you have any idea what you mean to me?”

Softly, he shakes his head against the skin of your shoulder.

“No?” The corner of your lips tug upwards in a small grin as you pull away to meet his wide eyes. “Then, I guess I’ll have to show you.”

Your lips are back on his in an instant, pulling him flush against you. Carefully, you begin to lean him back, hovering over him as you lay him down on that table. His hands cling desperately to your back, tilting his head to give you better access to his neck every time you move to bite your marks into his skin. Marks which you know he will wear proudly for as long as he can.

“My Divine,” the whimper that escapes him goes straight to your core, feeling yourself clench around nothing.

“My Beautiful Seonghwa,” you rest your forehead gently against his own. “As if you didn’t know that forging me Andúril would be considered the grandest romantic gesture you could ever make for me.”

His chest is heaving, hips desperately seeking your own. Only, you pin him to that table, retracting your hand from over his cock and eliciting the sweetest of whines from his throat.

“As if you wouldn’t have known that I would immediately have to satisfy My King as a reward for always taking such good care of His Queen.” You continue, reaching out slightly to the side to grasp a particular object in your hand. Once you feel that cool metal of the dagger against your palm, you smirk. “Since My King has shown me nothing but a loving patience and dedication to his craft, I shall show him the same.”

Again, you lean over him, pecking his lips tenderly.

“I wish to take my time savouring you right now, Seonghwa,” you tell him gently. “As long as you’ll let me.”

At the vigorous nod of his head, along with the breathless ‘yes’ that falls from his lips, you have your answer.

You smile, eyes crinkling at the sides as your heart warms.

Slowly, carefully, you bring that dagger up his body. Gently, you tug his shirt forward, the tip of the blade kissing the material. Cautiously, you hook the blade beneath the neckline of his shirt, watching him carefully for any signs of discomfort.

You find none.

The sound of tearing fabric reaches your ears, the dagger getting tossed beside you on that table as you help him sit up once more. His lips are on yours as you strip Seonghwa of his now cut shirt, the planes of his chest on full display. The way he shivers beneath your touch as your hands roam down his bare chest has you smiling into the kiss.

Without wasting another moment, you part from him only to begin trailing your lips down his chest. You take your time, biting and sucking marks into his skin as your hands grip his waist firmly. The fact that Seonghwa arches into your touch, eyes fluttering as he feels your tongue come out to lave over his burning skin says it all.

Another moan of your name slips passed his lips.

“That’s it, My Dove,” you coo, sliding him the slightest bit forward, and back onto the edge of the table. “I want to hear how good I’m making you feel.”

Slowly, you begin to sink to your knees, allowing your fingers to trail over his thighs as you do so.

Seonghwa’s head is spinning, and with each breath, his chest heaves. He can hardly believe that this is happening right now, his hands desperately gripping at the side of his work table for dear life. The image alone of you on top of him like that, and now, with you resting on your knees between his legs, is making his cock ache for your touch once more. He needs you, and he’s sure to tell you that.

The smirk that pulls at your lips is nothing short of devious, “Patience, My Dove. I told you that I wish to take my time with you right now.”

A small whimper escapes him.

“You’re not the only one who wants my lips wrapped around you cock right now, Seonghwa.” Your eyes flash dangerously as you look up at him through your lashes. “Be patient, and I will reward you, My King.”

Seonghwa’s breath hitches in his throat, whole body stilling as your words settle over him. He can feel his cock throbbing, becoming almost painful the longer he goes with you no longer touching him.

The second you begin to undo his belt, his thighs begin to shake.

Soothingly, you rub your hands over his upper thighs, staring up at him with wide eyes. As you meet his gaze, your hands still, finger sinking into the material of his jeans as his lips part with another moan.

“Look at you,” you hum, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. “I’ve barely even done anything to you yet, and you’re ready to fall apart.”

“I’m surprised I haven’t come yet from your touches alone,” he admits lowly, voice a little rough as he clears his throat.

Your eyebrow quirks, “Oh?”

“My Divine, the feeling of your hands on me is one of the greatest sensations I’ve ever felt in my entire life.” He breathes, thighs tensing as you begin to undo the zipper of his jeans. “You already know how little self-control I seem to have around you.”

Slowly, you begin to slide the material of his jeans down his thighs as you chuckle once more. A moment later, you help him step out of them, tossing both his jeans and his boxers off to the side.

“That, I do know,” you smile knowingly. “And yet, you’re being such a good boy for me.”

His cock visibly twitches from your words, and you smirk.

“Oh?” Your brow quirks, a devious look shining behind your eyes as you look up at him. “You like it when I call you My Good Boy, don’t you.”

His grip tightens on the edges of the table, and you wonder at how the wood hasn’t cracked beneath the pressure yet.

“Yes,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut for the briefest of moments. “Fuck- I love it, My Queen.”

The giggle you let out is music to his ears.

You meet his gaze through your lashes once more, “Good boy.”

Again, his cock visibly twitches from your words. You can see how desperately he restrains himself from reaching out to you right now, his hands tense as he grips the table for dear life.

Teasingly, you trail your hands back up his thighs. Only, when you get close to his hips, you stop, dragging them back down and ensuring your nails scratch lightly over his skin.

He shudders.

The whole time you rest before him, Seonghwa keeps his gaze locked on you. Not once does he allow his eyes to fall shut, and he swears to himself that he’ll do whatever he can to engrain this memory in his mind for as long as possible. He’ll be damned if he misses even one second of you pleasing him, for you appear just as eager as he does in this moment.

He wouldn’t want it any other way.

Trailing your hands back up his thighs, you give them both another appreciative squeeze. Then, finally, you lean into him, bringing your lips to the skin of his inner thigh as your one hand wraps delicately around his cock.

The moment your fingers close around him, he moans. His lips remain parted, breaths coming in uneven pants as he feels you gently nipping at the skin of his inner thigh. The way your hand begins to move over him has his whole body twitching beneath your touch.

The closer your lips get to his aching cock, the harder it becomes for him to control himself. Desperately, Seonghwa clings onto whatever shreds of his sanity that he has left, taking in the beautiful sight that is you, on your knees, pleasing him right now.

Just when he thinks you’ll free him from your teasing licks and kisses on his one thigh, you move to the other, repeating the same actions over his skin almost lovingly.

At one particularly firm bite against his thigh, his stomach clenches. He can feel himself twitch in your hand, a low groan escaping him as he leans further back on the table for support.

You chuckle, looking up at him innocently from between his spread legs.

“My King?”

He hums, almost absentmindedly.

“One more thing,” A devious gleam is shining behind your eyes. One which his blissed out state manages to ignore for the moment.

“Anything, My Queen.” He breathes out, breath hitching in his throat as he sees you lick your lips.

“Hands to yourself until I say so.”

As soon as those words escape you, your lips are around him. Gently, you suckle on the tip, tongue flicking over his slit a few times as you maintain eye contact with him.

A choked moan escapes him, his right hand automatically reaching out to you. Only, he catches himself, fingers twitching in midair right by your head. Slowly, reluctantly, he retracts his hand, gripping onto that table desperately for support.

The chuckle you let out reverberates along his cock, sending pleasant shivers up his spine and causing his stomach to clench. The way your tongue feels, beginning to swirl around his head as you take more of him into your mouth is making his head spin. Never before has Seonghwa been this hard in his life, and the fact that it’s all because of you is only adding to the intensity of the pleasure that he’s currently feeling.

Low, guttural groans escape him as he watches you sink further down on his cock. Languidly, your tongue strokes along his shaft, pleasant hums escaping you as you watch his every reaction carefully. The fact that his whole body trembles, fingers digging into the wood of the table has you chuckling lowly once more.

Slowly, you begin bobbing your head. What you can’t fit into your mouth, you use your one hand to stroke over, squeezing at his base a few times as you hollow your cheeks over him.

Seonghwa nearly collapses right then and there. As much as he tries, he cannot prevent the way his eyes flutter closed, tossing his head back as a moan of your name slips passed his lips.

“Just like that, My Divine,” he smiles, blinking his vision open once more to see the glorious sight that is you, on your knees before him, with his cock in your mouth. A low growl escapes him, eyes flashing black. “Fuck- just like that.”

Desperately, he does whatever he can to keep his hips from bucking further into your mouth. The wet heat of your mouth is overwhelming, nothing but pure pleasure coursing through his veins as he feels you suckling at the tip of his cock once more.

Pulling away from him for just a moment, you let your hand pump over his length a few times. Again, you lick your lips, gaze darting up to meet his own as you move in closer.

Another growl escapes him as he watches you suck one of his balls into your mouth. His whole body shudders as you slowly let it pop back out of your mouth only for you to begin placing wet, open mouthed kisses up along the bottom of his shaft. The way your tongue comes out to trace along the path shortly afterwards has him twitching in your hand.

“Oh, fuck-“ His breath catches in his throat, eyes bleeding black once more. “Again. Please, do that again.”

The way your lips are currently pressed against his cock lets Seonghwa feel every inch of the smile that pulls at your features. To his utmost pleasure, you’re almost instantly repeating your actions, taking even more time to caress your tongue along the underside of his shaft, tracing over a prominent vein.

“My Divine, please-“ he chokes out, every breath escaping him now but a mere whimper on his lips.

You spare a glance upwards and into his eyes as you tighten your hold around the base of his cock.

“I love you, My Seonghwa.”

Your lips are around him as soon as the words finish escaping you, moving over him with a newfound vigour. You barely even begin to lave your tongue over his cock when you feel him twitching within your mouth, the sound of shattering wood greeting your ears.

Whimpers and whines escape him, along with desperate cries of your name as his orgasm washes over him. His body hunches the slightest bit forward, releasing down your throat as you help to ride him through his high.

Every last drop he offers you, you swallow, humming contently around him as you lick him clean.

Your name falls like a mantra from his lips, whole body shaking as he leans against the table for support. Two chunks seem to have been torn from the wood where his hands had been gripping the table so firmly, the shattered remains littering the ground around you.

Slowly, you release him from your mouth, hearing as another guttural groan escapes him as you do so. When you spare a glance up, you notice his chest heaving, his lips parted as he stares down at you with nothing but love and pure, unfiltered awe in his gaze.

Tenderly, your hands come up to stroke over his thighs. “Good?”

“Good?” He smiles, voice deep and rough. A soft chuckle falls from his lips as he runs a hand through his disheveled hair. “I’m great. Never been better, in fact.”

You giggle, standing carefully back to your feet with a little help from him. His one hand comes up to cup the side of your face, kissing you deeply as he flips your positions so that he can push you back against his worktable now.

“Seonghwa,” you giggle against his lips. “What are you doing?”

“Returning the favour,” he growls lowly, pressing you a bit firmer into the wood behind you.

Softly, your fingers begin to thread through the hair at the back of his neck. “Some other time, yeah?”

A whine of protest escapes him, pulling away from you to look into your eyes with round, pleading ones of his own.

“Later. I promise.” You bring your hands around to cup his face tenderly in your palms. “For now, let’s go get something to eat.”

The playful quirk of his brow informs you of what it is, exactly, that he intends to eat.

“Next time.” You say, a little more firmly.

He pouts, but listens nonetheless as he begins to pull his pants back on.

“Come on, Mars.” You smile lovingly at him, grabbing his hand in yours after he’s finished putting on his belt.

You lick your lips, taking the time to admire him for the nth time this day as he stands before you.

“My Divine, if you keep staring at me like that…” He lets his words trail off, but the darkness you see swirling behind his eyes says it all.

“What?” You chuckle, a playful smirk pulling at your lips. “I said I was hungry.”

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taintandviolent · 1 year

Text

deflowering ; James March x virgin!Reader

{requested by anonymous} summary: 7k words! after a little dancing, more than a little champagne, you decide to take James March up on his offer of going up to one of the new rooms of the Hotel Cortez, to break them in, as it were. Little does he know, he's about to break you in, too. w a r n i n g s: virgin!reader (adult), mentions of alcohol, rough sex, explicit descriptions, canon divergence, rough sex, thigh riding, cunnilingus, blowjobs, aggression, use of 'daddy', dom themes.

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / ♪ recommended playlist here! ♪

t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @redwoodghost / @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @kaissweetlamb / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @evansb1tch / @enchanting-evan / @petersevans / @yesdevineruler / @enchanting-evan / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @violetharmonscupcake/ @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @evanpetersfansblog / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @nova-kayne67 / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @piecesofcain / @lilthbunny

It was the twenty-third of August, 1926, and you had just finished your second glass of champagne in the Hotel Cortez. Usually, you never drank this much, but it was a celebration after all. Some fellow named James Patrick March had finally completed the arduous construction of his new hotel and tonight was the opening night. Crowds had flocked to the entrance, dressed to the nines and all eagerly craning their necks for a peek at the glamorous inside. Those who weren’t explicitly invited were turned away by the doorman in his starched uniform.

You, of course — you’d been invited by your friend’s friend’s friend and when you showed up in a beaded, green dress and the mink stole your mother had given you four birthdays ago, you waltzed right through those doors without a single question. You looked like you belonged here as much as the group of actresses that walked in before you. The moment you entered, the hotel stole a gasp from your lips, dazzling you with its prestige and innovation.

It had been toted as “an overly ambitious project” and you could certainly attest to that. Mr. March, whomever he was, had written a particular aesthetic into the design of his hotel and from the hexagonal patterned carpets to the ornately panelled gold walls, everything fit the opulent theme. The Blue Parrot Lounge was a name you’d heard whispered several times, waiters coming down the curved staircases with trays full of delicate champagne flutes. You learned shortly after that the bar was on the second floor and overlooked the entire hotel lobby.

But downstairs in that lobby, a band was set up, their instruments exhaling the liveliest melody you’d heard in ages. Easily, they persuaded the masses to kick their heels up. The grand chandelier above your head twinkled like your own personal galaxy, shimmering every time you moved. In fact, everything twinkled. You felt ebullient, as light as a cloud, and didn’t have a care in the world.

There had been a brief pause where Mr. March welcomed everyone to his Hotel in his dangerously cordial way, making a show of popping champagne. Everyone applauded, congratulated and then quickly dispersed, eager to return to the complementary libations. You’d eagerly taken to the dance floor and quickly found a partner in a jazzy white suit. He had blonde hair, sharp, chiseled features and deep green eyes - handsome enough. You two paired alright, enjoying each other’s lively moves.

He’d clearly been drinking more than you, judging by the way he slurred his compliments to you, dabbing nervously at the sheen of sweat that decorated his forehead. After an hour or so of dancing, your feet were sore and your curious nature had wrapped its tendrils around your throat, ordering you to investigate the rest of the hotel.

A server held another glittering tray of champagne high above everyone’s heads, and you snatched one as he passed you, hurriedly bringing it to your mouth. The effervescent liquid tickled the bow of your lips, the tiny bubbles popping as you sucked in a delicate mouthful. You dabbed at the corner of your mouth with your middle finger, trying not to gulp too loud.

As the song changed, the band racing into another upbeat melody, you swung your shoulder around, prepared to sink deeper into the hallways. Instead, you nearly collided with a broad shoulder. “Oooh! ‘Pardon me!”

“Mm.”

You recognised him right away. In the wicked and honest parts of your brain, you were thrilled that, of all people, you’d bumped into him. During his speech, all the women were staring with illicit gazes and hungry tongues. You’d mapped the direction of their eyes as they scanned along his face, and down his body as they openly and dissolutely lusted after him. The audible whispers that scattered the room when he cracked open the champagne, allowing the fizzy stream to spray into his mouth would’ve been laughable if you hadn’t been one of the whisperers.

He seemed slightly less personable now, almost curt in nature. Something about the dismissive way he’d flashed his brows at you as if he was annoyed sparked a fire in your curiosity. He was too handsome to let slip through your fingers, and surely, there must be a reason for his clipped response. You gulped down a mouthful and cleared your throat.

“Say, aren’t you Mr. March?” You asked coyly, knowing full well who he was.

He stopped then, like he’d been challenged to a duel, and with a slight bow, turned gracefully on his toes. To him, it was a challenge. You hadn’t run off with your tail between your legs, offended by his sternness, and that was a challenge for conversation, for flirtations and perhaps… indulging himself.

“Indeed I am. Enjoying yourself?” He eyed the half-empty glass in your tiny little hand, taking note that it clearly wasn’t your first.

“Oh, very much so. This is a ssswell party, Mr. March.”

“Splendid! And please,” He took your hand in his, pressing his lips against your knuckles. “Call me James.”

You cooed in acknowledgment, watching him from the rim of your glass. He lingered for a little too long and you would’ve bet your last penny that you saw his nostrils flare slightly as he inhaled a deep breath of your scent. After a moment, James straightened up, keeping a firm grip on your hand.

He had indeed; you were sweet, like a delicate pastry with the slightest hint of fruitiness underneath. There were notes of a perfume, floral, something moderately expensive — surely, something you’d saved up all your pocket change for. The way your eyes glimmered awoke a deep hunger within his core. He’d play with this.

“Tell me, my dear. Can you dance?” He asked.

The moment you said you could, he’d wrapped your slender arm around his forearm, holding onto it tightly as he towed you back towards the dance floor. Thank god your mother had insisted you learn how to dance properly. And thank heavens your friend, whom Mother detested, taught you how to dance improperly. Mother had always said these new trend dances were for immoral and loose women, but when James March insisted you dance the Charleston with him, you’d never been gladder for immorality in your life.

Keeping a tight hold on your hand, he swung you out into the clearing. With his fee hand, he made a quick gesture to the band. They responded by starting up the familiar melody, and James stepped to your side, lifting his brows in a silent confirmation that you were as ready as you looked. You gave him a short nod, and you both took one step backwards, beginning the shuffling motions.

His feet moved quick to the rhythm; behind and in front of each other, his heels kicking out to the side. All things considered, you made a worthy partner, keeping up with his lively, bobbing movements. Your hands were at your waist, fingers splayed out, swishing from side to side. You both leaned forward in unison and sent your right heels up into the air. The moment you straightened up again was when you realised that a small crowd had gathered in the lobby of the Hotel Cortez and all of their eyes were on the two of you. Everyone was watching as you two masterfully stepped the Charleston and you felt like a celebrity, a performer with the most handsome partner.

There was one woman in particular, a gorgeous brunette gal, who looked on with narrowed eyes. James stepped in front of your line of sight, flashing a villainously personable smile, and spun you back to his side. Though he wouldn’t dare voice it, the beginning twitches of an erection had his cock stirring in his pants. You were delectable and lively, something he’d take great pleasure in snatching away from you. All the more arousing that she hasn’t the slightest clue….

As the song ended, you couldn’t help but dissolve into a fit of giddy laughter, falling backwards into his chest. You couldn’t be sure, but as his arms enclosed around you, you thought you heard a syrupy laugh deep in his throat. Both of you were tuckered out, chests heaving, a misting of sweat covering your décolleté and his forehead. After a moment in his strong arms — ooooh, his arms — he brought a handkerchief from a pocket, dabbing his forehead gently. Modest applause peppered the crowd, along with a few glad compliments.

“I don’t mean offence by this, but…” You swallowed, wetting your throat. “I didn’t think you could dance like that!”

“I’m full of surprises.” He answered.

James swooped around you, circling you predatorily. His fingers ghosted over the back of your neck, sending a convulsive shiver down your spine.

You two locked eyes then, staring wordlessly. Both of you unable to ignore the need, the pulling draw, the hunger to touch each other. It was the sort of gaze that started rumours. His tongue scraped along the roof of his mouth, longing to taste the churning arousal between your legs. He knew it was there, told plainly by the way you fiddled with the hem of your neckline, nervously, trying to placate your own licentious thoughts.

“Beautiful hotel, really.” You finally whispered.

“Allow me to show you the best room in the house.” His eyes flashed to yours, sensing the apprehension. You rolled your shoulders inward, prepped to decline as politely as you could.

“Oh now, now… no need to be shy. I’m a gentleman first and foremost.”

“I don’t know if your lady friend will enjoy that…” You retorted.

“You are the only lady in my company.” He assured.

You gazed behind him one more time and met eyes with her — an action you’d immediately regretted. Her gaze was as comforting as a jail cell, and her full lips were pulled into a tight, frustrated line that held back a myriad of hatred. You opened your mouth to speak, but a forefinger was pressed hurriedly into your cupids bow, shushing you quickly. He looked down at you, brows furrowed in disapproval.

“Now, now. Shh. I’d hate to have to cut out your tongue, my dear. I had plans for it later.”

Your brows pulled together, eyes displaying nothing but sheer confusion. What on Earth did he mean by that? Either of those things? You were too afraid to broach the question, partly in fear that the answer would’ve frightened you, or worse, aroused you.

As though he read your mind, heard your innermost thoughts, he added quickly: “If you want to find out what… well, you’ll have to follow me first, my dear. Shall you?”

He extended his hand to you, palm up.

Against your better judgement and without thinking a second more about the repercussions, you took it and managed to squeak: “To the moon, James.”

When you glanced over his shoulder a final time, that woman watched you as he led you away, that tumultuous anger burning in her eyes. Something about her piercing gaze sent a shiver down your spine. She looked innocent enough, but underneath the done-up exterior, there was a cruelness, a hostility that you wanted nothing to do with. You hurried your steps, pinning yourself closer to James.

The journey took longer than you expected as every few moments, he was stopped by a hotel guest and congratulated. Everyone from stuffy elderly couples to actors you recognised from pictures all wanted to shake hands with the man that had created “the hotel of the century”. You hung on his arm, politely silent, offering agreeing nods and kind smiles when they’d look at you. They must’ve assumed, of course, that you two were an item, and for that brief, fleeting moment, you were thrilled by the idea.

Once he’d pushed open the door, allowing room for you to walk in, you realised that the room he’d led you into was the room he’d cracked the champagne in — except it had been expertly cleaned within a few hours. There were no crowds, no remnants, no sounds aside from a pair of breaths; yours and his. Although, if you listened hard enough, you thought you heard the dull, muted music from below. It sounded hazy and slower up here in this room.

The lock clicked into place and James had you in his arms, his face buried in your neck, his pencil-thin moustache tickling the sensitive flesh under your jaw. He whispered seductive words of veneration into the nape of your neck, praising your appearance between breaths and tastes of your salty flesh.

“Forgive my eagerness,” he whispered into your ear, before nipping at your skin. “I find you�� irresistible.”

Delighted by the sensations, your lids fluttered. You extended your neck to him, allowing more. He kissed your neck over and over again and began sucking too hard in certain spots. You let out the tiniest little hums of discomfort, trying to stretch away from him then. However, somewhere deep in your core, you craved that pain, the burn of his suckling kisses.

“I want you to kiss me.” He declared, finally pulling away to gaze upon your face, like he was studying it. “Kiss me, but don’t hold back. I want to feel your passion.”

You nodded quickly, feigning all the courage in the world. Nervous? Who, me? Never! Your lips clashed together as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself as close to him as you could. His mouth parted, allowing his tongue out to swirl around yours, and you could taste the champagne that lingered on it like a fading memory. He deepened the kiss, moving further into your mouth and all you could do was moan into his. Silly girl, he must’ve thought.

His hand left your side, trailing further down. With a cruel tug, James yanked your stocking from its front clip, tearing a generous hole in the nylon, then repeated the process with the other. You broke the kiss to watch this fiery display of arousal in awe, feeling a new, unfamiliar fire in your stomach. You’d been aroused before — hell, even pleasured yourself shyly under the sheets… but the hunger. The hunger that clawed at your insides with reckless abandon was speaking in a foreign tongue… but it was one that you wanted to translate into physicality.

“Oooh, easy tiger…”

His fingers splayed out over your now bare thighs, exploring the smooth skin ravenously. As he neared your centre slit, he snarled in response — whether intentionally responding to the animalistic nickname you’d given him, or because he’d felt the slippery nectar dripping from between your legs, you couldn’t know. You thought it might be the latter. You hoped it was.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you to wobble forward with want. He made a beeline to the nearby alcohol cart that had been arranged near the door and poured amber liquid into one of the glasses and golden champagne into another. He brought the darker coloured one to his lips.

“Mmm…” He growled as he swallowed, locking eyes with you, walking confidently towards the nearby chair. Though his head was turned away from his destination, he didn’t stumble, just gracefully sunk down into the chaise lounge without spilling a drop of his precious liquor.

You were in awe of this man’s finesse, of his charm, and the adoration for him displayed all over your cheeks. You didn’t need to bring out your compact to know that the flush had travelled down your neck, and your pretty little doe-eyes were as wide as saucers. He set the glass of champagne down on a nearby end table, presumably where it would stay until you reached for it.

“What’s underneath that ravishing dress, hm?” He asked. You gathered your lips to one side in a coy expression.

“Let’s see,” you tittered. "My bra and my knickers. And…. A pair of torn stockings and shoes, if you’re a specifics kinda’ guy…” You knew he was.

He waited.

You raised your brows, cocking your head to the side in affirmation — that was all. You were a woman of style after all. In this outfit? You wouldn’t be caught dead in a corset or a slip. Besides, corsets were for stuffy old broads nowadays. Everyone was wearing bras.

“Take it all off. Everything but the dress.”

Surely, the dress would be the first thing to go? It was an odd request, even for your virgin experience. You’d heard stories of men and their covetous desires. The idea of keeping the biggest article of clothing on seemed unorthodox, but you weren’t about to question his demands.

Obediently, you bent down and undid the buckles of your shoes, stepping out of them carefully. With a shy bat of your lashes, you turned away from him, shimmying and shrugging out of the straps of your dress until they fell into the crooks of your arms. Reaching around behind your back, you unlatched the satin bra, letting your supple breasts spring free of the compression.

Your heart pounded as you bent down again to slide the satin underwear over the curve of your ass and down your equally satiny thighs, giving the man behind you the tiniest previews of what was to come. Facing him again, you held your dress at your chest, carefully sliding the straps back up your arms one by one.

With a drink in one hand, the other stretched over the back of the loveseat and a delightedly smug expression, James watched your undergarments fall to the floor piece by piece. His cock throbbed in his pants, the thick fabric doing a damned good job at keeping the beast at bay. Free of everything, your dress hung a little different now, and his black eyes were aflame with the realisation. You swayed back and forth, the strands of sequins brushing lightly against your thighs.

As you bent down one final time, reaching for the nylons, came his voice. “Leave those.”

After a small sip, he pat his thigh twice with his free hand; the sound of his palm snapping against the taut fabric atop his thigh echoed in the room. For a brief, insecure second, you were frozen. A deer in the headlights. Except the headlights weren’t headlights, they were the eyes of the hungriest tiger you’d ever seen and you’d already succumbed to your fate the moment he locked the door.

“Come to daddy.”

You shuddered in response, your tummy doing backflips like an acrobat in a circus act. His words held such command and purpose, you had no choice but to saunter over to him, swaying your hips a little more than you usually did. He seemed to enjoy that; a tiny smirk played out over his mouth.You pressed your knees against his, struggling to not come undone at the contact. With a deep breath, you manoeuvred yourself in between his parted legs.

“Good…” He replied. “Atop my thigh, my pet.”

With your flesh turning a deep shade of red, you walked over his thigh, resting one knee on the edge of the cushion. You felt the air on your cunt, the chill of the room touching the wetness and making it tingle. You looked down at his groin. The fabric was pulled taut. You could make out the faintest outline of a swelling cock underneath —

You snapped your attention back to him, embarrassed. He downed the rest of his drink, set it carelessly on the table next to your still-full champagne and lifted his hand to your legs. The pad of his middle finger caressed the back of your knee, sending a shockwave through your entire body. No man had ever touched you like that, the sensation was erotic and overwhelming to your core. Inch by inch, his fingers trailed higher.

You reached for the champagne, and despite the sting in your nose, you downed the entire glass, setting it back on the small table.

“Lower.” He commanded, amused.

You obeyed, bending your knees.

“Lower.” He repeated.

He’d lined it up perfectly; James pressed that same finger into your slit as you lowered, wiggling it further in, then flicking it up to your clit. You let out a shrill mewl. Your knees nearly buckled as he circled the bundle of nerves, bringing the sensitivity higher. You squeezed your eyes shut as hot, salty tears bit at the corners. Your muscles had begun to quiver, overwhelmed by the strain of hovering over his thigh. His skilful fingers manipulated your cunt, simply playing with your wetness.

James abruptly yanked you all the way down, forcing you into a straddle. Your cunt was spread, pressed tight against his thigh and you needed no instruction on what to do next.

“Ooooh,” he growled, watching your hips as they ground your weeping cunt against the expensive fabric of his suit pants. “Good girl. Your desire is intoxicating… show me how much you want me…. yes.”

James chuckled, knowingly. Despite your best effort in trying to suppress your moans, he saw through the act. The skin of your neck had flushed red. Your soft jaw hung slack, tiny little moans floating out every time he touched you. Your sweet little eyes rolled back into your head every time he so much as flexed his thigh muscle. He knew the effect he had on you. Every slight movement from him ground against your cunt, sending shuddering waves of heat into your core.

“I said,” he started, gripping your jaw hard between his thumb and pointer finger. “Show me how much you want it, my dear.”

You winced, but allowed instinct to kick in. You began bobbing up and down on his thigh, whimpering as the wet spot on the fabric spread. The slick glistened on the fibres as you ground back and forth. Eventually, the friction of dry against wet lessened, and you found a rhythm, bouncing. His leg bumped into your sensitive, aching clit over and over again.

As you rode his thigh, James gripped your dress at the shoulders, kissing up along the curves of your arm. There was a warmth on your skin, a tugging, though you were too deep in the sensations to pull away. A cacophony of ticking began; tiny beads scattered across the floor, bouncing and dancing into crevices where they’d never be found again.

When you finally glanced down, a look of shock painted across your features. Your dress had been ripped at the seams, the delicately beaded fabric now hanging limply at your hips in a mass. James looked on, adoringly, his hungry, inky eyes dancing over your exposed breasts, and the way your nipples had hardened in the slightly colder air.

“What’s wrong, my dear? Are you frightened?” He asked. The lilt in his question was too revealing, but alas, who was he to deny the delicious aroma of fear?

“Who me?” You laughed breathily, like a fool. Sweat pooled in the hollows of your collarbone. No time like the present, you thought. You’d reached the point of no return, and surely if you didn’t say something now, he’d find out when he took you. “Oh, no, it’s just that… I’ve never been with a man is all.”

The realisation swept across his face, the expression telling all the tales of how he felt about being the first man to have a woman. “Aaahhh…. And do you…. wish to be…?”

“With you?” You swatted the air dismissively. “More than anything.”

“Brave. Brave girl.” With that, he scooped you up in his strong arms, and got up from the chair. You wrapped your legs around his torso as he carried you effortlessly to the table. The journey was short, and before you knew it, your bare back was laid on cool wood. Your legs hung off the edge, and with one strong yank, James pulled the tattered dress from your hips, tossing it heedlessly behind him.

“Knees up — heels on the table.” He then ordered, sternly. Pulling your knees towards your chest, you adjusted yourself on the table and swallowed hard, feeling vulnerable. Short of hearing the snap of latex gloves, you were left feeling like you were about to be examined by a doctor.

James disappeared from your view then, sinking down below the edge of the table. With nothing to look at, you gazed up at the ceiling with wide eyes, anticipating the next move. When it came, you let out a yelp, your legs closing on either side of his head. James had pressed his lips against her, peppering little kisses against your centre, and after a moment or two of that, opened his mouth to slip his tongue deliberately along the folds. The sensation of his tongue darting out to taste you was enough to send you to the moon, but he continued, delving further into you. Your legs opened again, exposing more of your aching cunt to him.

You felt his nose press into the mound of flesh as he flattened his tongue on your clit, lapping at it hungrily. Your body responded by squirming, a desperate whimper pouring from your throat. His hands were suddenly on your pillowy thighs, holding you tight where you were. With a vibrating groan, his tongue abruptly changed techniques; he began flicking the tip of his tongue into the underside of your clit. Your moans - though they were teetering on the edge of screams — bounced off the walls of the empty room.

In a delirium of ecstasy, you’d gripped the hair at the crown of his head, pulling it hard. He grunted into your pussy, sending vibrations deep into your core. His hand came down on the side of your ass with a resounding slap. You shuddered violently, your sopping cunt clenching tight against his chin, wetting it as your first orgasm came in sudden waves. James slipped his tongue deep inside of your entrance, feeling the pulses as they gradually subsided. Before pulling away to look at the flower in front of him, and what he’d done to it, he let out a throaty, pleased growl. A small puddle had formed on the table, your slick arousal leaking from the hole like sweet nectar dripped from the centre of a fruit.

“Ahhh…” he exhaled. “Divine.”

His eyes darting to the side, James made a mental note to have Miss Evers re-polish the table. After this, it would certainly need it.

The way he gazed upon you, seemingly satisfied with just how wet you were drove your head into the table with a thunk. You arched your back with a whimper, somehow still unsatisfied. From the side, came his voice. “Use your words, my darling.”

Your eyes snapped open, startled that you hadn’t heard him move around. You swallowed, looking up at him piteously. For a moment you dug deep into your own mind, battling with coherency to find the correct words. And, disappointingly, all you could muster was: “I… want more.”

“Yes….. yes, you do.”

Gently, with two fingers, James pulled your jaw towards him, moving your head so that your cheek laid against the table. There was a certain predatory nature in his gaze as he looked at you. “Open up,” he demanded, his thumb prodding your lips. “That’s my girl…”

He smeared his thumb along your warm, strong tongue, depressing it and feeling around the rest of your mouth. He glided over your smooth teeth, digging the fleshy pad into the decently sharp points of your incisors.

“Don’t bite me… too hard.”

With that, he began unbuckling his trousers with one hand, sliding the belt from its loop. You watched intently as this handsome, charming stranger handled himself; taking himself out his undergarments and his trousers, roughly adjusting his cock so that it was free for your devouring. He closed his hand along the length, pumping it several times. A generous droplet of precum leaked from the red, sweating tip and before it had time to string away, he guided his cock to your mouth.

He smeared your lips over the head, coating it in his own dripping seed. His hips then bucked the length into your mouth, bringing a whimpering gag from deep within your throat. Gentle, he thought. With the way your mouth eagerly worked him, doing your best to suck and lap at his aching cock, that thought was whisked away seconds later.

Wet sounds filled the room as James fucked your pretty little mouth, your lipstick smearing waxy, blood-coloured streaks on the shaft of his cock. In your peripheral, it was quite a gruesome sight, but he seemed to enjoy it, tilting his head to watch.

You closed your lips around the tip as it slid out, letting your tongue flatten on the underside of it. You felt every throbbing vein, but every time your tongue or lips grazed that one, the protruding one, James making sounds that you’d only ever dreamed of hearing a man make. It was a breathy, higher pitched moan, or a choking gasp, and each time he did, the corners of your lips curled up into a smile, delighted with eroticism. You pressed your tongue hard into it, sliding it up and down. From this angle, you realised, you couldn’t do much else… but perhaps that’s how he’d wanted it.

You remembered his previous mention of biting, so thinking that it was something he favoured, you began toying with his sensitivity by grading your teeth along his shaft. He hissed, ceasing his thrusts to crane his neck back, revelling in the amalgam of pain and pleasure.

“Harder,” he demanded.

You furrowed your brows in concern, daunted by the new territory that lay ahead. You closed your mouth a little more, the ridges of your teeth gently clamping down on his swollen cock. Suddenly, James gripped your face hard, squeezing your cheeks together like a fish. You winced as he leaned forward to hiss in your open mouth, his demeanour suddenly callous and dreadful. “I said not too hard.”

He released it sharply as you did, and punishingly bucked his hips into your wanting mouth. His thrusts were quick, and marvelled at the tiny, pathetic gags that broke from your throat every time he hit the back of it. You were so delicate, but so… willing.

Suddenly, he pulled his cock from your lips with a sick, filthy slurping sound, and holding it in his right hand, moved back to the head of the table. His breaths were ragged, hungry. You blinked away the tears that had accumulated.

“You nearly ruined my makeup…” You whispered, wiping the slimy collection of drool and precum from your chin.

“I’ll do more than that.” Gripping you at the knees, James yanked you down the table’s length, your ass slipping easily against the polished wood.

Briefly, you felt the velvety hot tip of his cock teasing your cunt. He slid it between your wet folds, exhaling loudly at the slickness that greeted him. He teased you with a thrust of his hips, the tip of his head slipping slightly. You whined as he pulled away.

“What did I say about words?”

Like a toddler throwing a tantrum, you moaned shakily, gritting your teeth. “Don’t do that…”

“Do what?”

“Tease me…”

“Oh, but it’s fun. I’ll do so until you beg for it.”

“PLEASE!” You howled a moment later, taking fistfuls of his shirt and yanking him closer. You wiggled your hips at his groin, your cunt trying to find his cock desperately. You writhed around like a cat in heat, whimpering and leaking more cum onto his expensive mahogany table. In one of your hip sways, the hot tip brushed past your entrance, leaving a springy line of pre-cum in its path. In response, you rocked your hips against his, trying to pull him in further. The sensation had you gasping, rolling your head from side to side. “Please, please, please, I simply mu—

Your screams faded away into the back of his mind, dull and muted like they came from behind a brick wall. James watched your lewd, begging performance with a bemused smirk, chuckling through closed lips. Every anguished whimper, every desperate plea that his lack of action brought forward from your lips seemed to send you closer to the edge of madness. He enjoyed that. Too much, perhaps.

He reached up, running a single finger down the side of your neck, pausing to feel your pulse throbbing away beneath the skin. Such liveliness, such… James swallowed, suppressing the dark sludgy desire that clawed at his insides. His urges had been worse and worse lately, and now with the hotel open… Not now… not with her.

“What do I need to say?”

“Nothing more.” James took hold of his cock, stroking his fingers over the tip, dragging the slickness along his shaft. He exhaled, lining himself up. At first, James popped only the tip in and out, playing with his food. Each thrust, he slipped a little farther in. Out of the kindness of his heart, James was gradually getting you used to the feeling of fullness, but once he felt your slick walls, he grit his teeth. He had told you that he was a gentleman first and foremost, but… such is life. He swiftly sank his hard length into you with little friction. You were soaked and all it took was one determined thrust.

For a moment, you felt nothing but a searing pain as the thickness of his cock stretched your cunt wide open. Tears welled in your eyes, a cry bouncing against your rolled lips. The stinging was replaced with a dull ache, and finally, a warmth.

“My, my…” He admired. “Taking it so well already.”

You nodded feebly, doing your best to muster a smile amidst your punishing euphoria. Had you not been as wet as you were, it would’ve been excruciating. And when he started pounding, it almost was.

James must’ve sensed your discomfort because he brought his hand to your pussy, his thumb circling your clit. Mercilessly. You cried out like a wounded animal and that seemed to only drive him to continue, stroking his finger down length of your pussy before returning his attention back to the bundle of nerves. Your hips swayed back and forth on the table, desperately trying to get away from the pressure that was blossoming deep within your cunt, just above your bladder. It felt like a tangled mess of fire, and your whole centre was aflame.

You shakily lifted your head, watching as his pelvis smashed into yours, over and over again, his cock slipping easily from your aching, drenched cunt. Your hands climbed his torso. You fiddled with the buttons until his shirt hung open lifelessly, like two ghosts on either side of his body. He moaned as your fingertips explored his stomach, his ribcage, and then curled around the small of his back, forcing their way up underneath the restraint of his clothes. You felt uneven skin, the way that flesh raised once it had healed over deep lacerations.

James suddenly picked up speed, drilling into you harder and that released something in you. You felt devious, immoral, and wanted to howl like a banshee. In fact, you did. You let out a shrill, dirty moan, the kind you heard coming from those brothels as you passed them by. Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes before streaming down your temples, disappearing into the hair that laid on the table. Your fingers flexed, nails digging into his back and leaving crescent-moon shaped indentations amongst his scars. Feeling your clenching, he growled and lolled his head back in ecstasy.

You pulled your leg up, pressing your nylon-covered toe against his jawline and gave it a little push.

You heard his breath hitch.

You pushed harder, craning his neck off to the side. His moan said more than any words could’ve. With a devious smirk, you drug your toe down the length of his throat, pressing hard into his windpipe.

James jerked his hips harder and harder until you felt his cock twitch inside you, hot and angry, the first spurt of his orgasm planted deep inside you. He then backed his hips out slightly, just enough for the thick ropes of cum to cover your cunt. His cock bumped into your clit with tiny thrusts, forcing every last milky drop onto you. James straightened up, clenching his fists tightly.

“Ravished. Deflowered. Desecrated!” His words echoed loudly off the walls.

His arms came down with a loud thud on either side of your head, his shirt acting as blinders. There was nothing else in that moment; just you and him and the way he’d claimed you, taken every ounce of innocence you had left.

His hands traced along your collarbone, up the sides of your neck. The black thoughts wormed into his brain, screaming for sating attention. Which weapon would he use? Where he'd cut first - an artery? Arterial blood was always so… satisfying. Would her screams be as such? The final moment, the look in her eye? Perhaps, he could hear those desperate, soprano shrieks if he just…

Thunk-thunk-thunk.

Your lids peeled open, one by one. The blazing light that filtered in through the crack in the deep red curtains burned. You hardly remembered being in a hotel room… alone, and the hotel room you remembered wasn’t the one you were in now. This one looked more or less like any new hotel room that you could’t afford. Moving yourself into an upright position, you let out a depressed bleat… the headache. How much champagne did you have last night? You couldn’t remember.

Sleepily rubbing your eyes, you stumbled towards the door. “Just a minute!”

You were completely nude. That wouldn’t do to answer the door in. Panicked, you looked around the empty hotel room, considering the bed sheets for a moment. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a Praising the gods for the robe that had been hung on a hook by the door as you slipped your arms into it and hurriedly tied it round your waist. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of the framed photo near the door; your hair was a wreck, makeup smeared, and there were the faintest whispers of new bruises along your collarbone and neck.

The doorway was empty, as was the hallway.

Except for the box at the floor.

Despite giving a complete stranger your virginity last night, you had more sense than to bend down and open a foreign box. Clutching the robe at your chest, you began gingerly prying open the edge of it with your foot, wiggling your big toe underneath the fine cardboard until the lid popped off.

Inside, carefully arranged and wrapped in delicate pink tissue paper, laid a dress; a dress that was terribly similar to your own, but considerably more expensive. Atop it, a package of fine silk nylons. And atop those, in exquisitely elegant penmanship, a handwritten note lay. It read:

Thank you for a splendid evening, my dear. My deepest apologies about your dress — please accept this as a replacement. As for the flowers, it only seemed fair, considering the circumstances.

xoxo James P. March

You picked the box up, again checking the hallway to see if the deliverer was there. Still, empty. With a sigh, you shut the door, leaning against it. As you leaned there, holding the box in your arms, the corner of it digging into the middle of your neck, you winced at a sudden pang of soreness.

Your eyes drifted to the clock on the nightstand. “Nearly noon!? Oh, RATS!”

You pushed yourself off the door and changed hurriedly, throwing the robe off your shoulders and onto the floor. Mother! Mother would be furious and nothing was more terrifying than her rage. You’d rather be chopped up and filleted than have to deal with Mother’s anger, even as an adult. You pulled the nylons up as far as they could go without clips, and snatched the mink stole off the bed.

You threw open the heavy door and turned to your left, hoping for the best. You began running as quickly as you could down the lengthy hallway, barefoot. The straps of your shoes were hooked around your middle finger. With no markers, and no indication of where you were going, anxiety climbed your throat. Somehow though, after winding back and forth and up and down for what felt like hours, you managed to find the lobby.

As you emerged from the hallway, it was considerably less busy than last night. Where the band had been, waiting chairs and tables had been placed, a courtesy for guests waiting to check in. The cleaning team of the Hotel Cortez was marvellous, you had to admit. As you ducked your hips away from the edge of a chair, you spotted him. James March was leaned against the bar, chatting gayly with the bartender. The bartender nodded, swiping a rag over the spot directly in front of him. A glass of bourbon sat in front of James, perspiring. Much like you were. So it hadn’t all been a dream. He looked the same as he had last night, no hint of a hangover or fatigue. Just… charming. You inhaled and headed for the door.

“A perfect fit!” He called out from the balcony, his glass raised in a cheers. A few guests turned, searching for the voice. You jumped. The man had a talent for startling you — you’d give him that. You turned, your brows upturned in the middle, asking silently for clarification.

“The dress!”

“Oh! Yes! It does…. Thank you! It’s beautiful, Mr. March!”

“How’s your neck!?” He asked, lowering his head slightly.

The question threw you off. “….fine, but I really must be going, Mr. March! Bye!”

“Come back to the Hotel Cortez any time, my darling! As my guest.”

James watched you hurry out the door, knowing that if you did come back for a second time… it would be the last time.

#James Patrick March #James Patrick March x you #James Patrick March x reader #ahs smut #ahs fanfiction #AHS Hotel #james march x reader #myfics

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kyleoreillylover · 10 months

Text

We’re Just Friends 💘

Summary: What’s like being best friends with benefits with Jey Uso?

A/N: This is for all my Jey girlies out there!

tag list: @southerngirl41 @venusesworld @jeysbae @reci1996 @tbonesteakwithasideofmashngrav @hope4more

Warnings: Smut!!!

Best!Friend Jey who always needs to be touching you in some way. Whether that’s resting his head on your shoulder during a promo, wrapping an arm around you to pull you close and nuzzling his head into your neck, he needs to feel you when you’re with him.

Best!Friend Jey who gets unexplainably jealous when male wrestlers/colleagues get too close to you, even if it is just a friendly conversation. He’ll walk towards you, glaring at them until they get the message to back off. But he’ll always play it off with a casual smile at you, claiming he got bad vibes from them or that he’s just looking out for you.

Best!Friend Jey who thinks that no man is worthy of you, except himself, and his heart hurts when you come to him with tears in your eyes because of another man who shouldn’t have even been in your vicinity. This was the reason he brought up the arragment in the first place, so he doesn’t have to put himself out there for rejection he couldn’t handle from you if you didn’t return his feelings, and so you can be intimate with someone you trust and satisfy your own needs without it being awkward.

Best!Friend Jey who’s mind feels airy whenever he hangs out with you, like he’s floating on cloud nine. He’s addicted to your presence, whether that’s training, backstage, or just chilling. His favorite moment of the night is when you can finally unwind at the hotel, sitting on a couch with your legs tangled together, talking about everything and nothing. The night goes one of two ways, the two of you cuddling on the couch, too tired to do anything and dozing off in each others arms, or him taking you to the bed and unwinding between your legs, licking and sucking on your folds softly, making his dick strain against his underwear and you moan uncontrollably, getting you both out of your heads from the Bloodline drama of the day.

Best!Friend Jey who knows you like the back of his hand, and can always tell if somethings bothering you, even if you're trying to hide it. He always tries to take the brunt of Roman's anger for you, but sometimes that is not enough. So whenever you are downcast and isolating yourself cause of being yelled at by Roman, Jey will find you no matter where you are hiding, he knows everywhere you might go. Words aren't needed, you just his arms wrapped around you and to hide your head in his chest, finding comfort in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the sweet nothings he murmurs in your ear.

Best!Friend Jey who helps you design and pick out your gear. Cause one, he wants to match with you, and two, it gives him an excuse to ogle you without you teasing and giving him hell for it, and and three, the man has good taste (of course he does, he likes you) and knows you appreciate his input. You try on the different colors and low cut styles, twirling in front of the mirror as Jey gives you his honest opinions and eyes you up and down appreciatively. You know you found the right fit when Jey get's up from his seat, turns you around and gently pushes you against the wall, his fingers running over the fabric as his mouth as his mouth swallows yours in a deep and passionate kiss, hot and demanding and heated and everything that described Jey and more. "That's the one." He whispered against your lips, pulling back slightly to admire you one last time before enveloping your lips, senses, your mind with another mind-numbing kiss.

Best!Friend Jey who lives for your attitude and sassiness. He loves the way you carry yourself, the way you are cold-hearted and show no mercy to those that are in your way, insulting them with your sharp tongue and cocky demeanor that made them shrink away. And it didn’t hurt that you had Jey standing beside you protectively, an intimidating glare on his face as he watched you tear the person to shreds. He loved your attitude and seeing you put them in their place, but try that shit with him? He’s gonna be dragging you to the nearest room and be ripping your clothes off and breaking you off in half with his dick, teaching you why you ain’t gon’ treat him like that.

Best!Friend Jey who is addicted to the way your pussy tastes. It’s his favorite drug in the world, the one thing that makes him insatiable and that he can't get enough of. He'll taste you anywhere, and everywhere, and won't care about who hears you. You got this man pussy-whipped and he wouldn't have it any other way, your muffled moans as he is in between your thighs is all he needs.

Best!Friend Jey who makes you almost break character whenever he gives you the look. The look that means he wants to take you into his arms and make you cum right then and there. He'll usually accompany that with standing behind you and not so subtly pushing his cock that was straining against his pants into your lower back, smirking when you glared at him-he knew you weren't actually mad at him, you were just mad at the fact you couldn't have him right then.

Best!Friend Jey who somehow convinced you to let him fuck you in Nick Aldis' office cause he was bugging him. The two of you almost caught cause you both can't shut up to save your life, but it was worth it when you passed him and Jey winked at him and licked his lips that still had your remnants on them, making your core heat up again and making you push him into the nearest closest so he can have his way with you.

Best!Friend Jey who always hypes up your instagram photos in the comments, because you literally look like a goddess on earth, and makes snarky comments at your lil fanboys who think they even have a little chance with you. He also secretly masturbates to them when your away from him and too busy to call him ;)

Best!Friend Jey who is always at ringside for your matches no matter what, (and has to catch himself from ogling you in front of the cameras) and motivates you for your bigger matches by promising to give you a reward if you win (which usually means sitting on his face for as ling as you want until your both spent)

Best!Friend Jey who loves when people mistake you for a couple. The matching gears, the physical affection between the two of you, people are shocked when you guys say your just best friends. But Jey always fights the urge to add “with benefits” just to get on their nerves. Cause he can have you and no one else can.

Best!Friend Jey who will have you anyway he can, and will wait for you, no matter how long it takes for you to realize he can see the hidden feelings you have for him too.

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hwaslayer · 10 months

Text

project: make you love me (jyh) | nine.

♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 3.9k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, competition day for the group!, flashback scene, yunho is slowly starting to pull out the cute pet names and heart eyes hehe, alcohol consumption/intoxication, chaeryeong being the cutest bff ever, feelings are being shared!!, seonghwa lol

Today is the day.

And you are nervous.

The competition isn't huge, but it means a lot to your team— it'll spread your name across groups, towns. Increase the likelihood of others wanting to join, wanting to invite, wanting to collaborate. Place yourselves in a higher place than last year. You all heard about the competition through Yeonjun, who picked up a flyer near the grocery store. It's a competition during the town's winter festival, something he felt like would be a good opportunity either way. There are three winners; each winner wins a certain amount of money awarded to help fund their group's events, competitions and fundraisers. On top of that, the competition was to be broadcasted on a livestream in order to encourage support from anywhere and everywhere.

There were designated drivers within the group, transporting members in different cars while all of you chipped in for gas. You had left bright and early in the morning in order to settle at the hotel before practicing and enjoying bits of the festival.

It's been a whirlwind.

Even though you're nervous, it's a beautiful day and you're happy to be here with your friends, your team. It'll be a good day.

It'll all turn out perfectly fine.

"Hey, are you guys good to go? We're ready to practice near the parking lot." You swing the door open to Hyunjin peeking into your room, eyeing everyone grabbing their things.

"Yeah, we'll be out in a sec." You smile at him, signaling for your roommates to head out the door.

Your group finds a secluded part of the hotel parking lot, taking this space to clean up and fine tune every single part of the piece. Every single beat, every single move— you, Yeonjun and Hyunjin precisely monitoring each member to correct any small mistakes and flaws. This goes on for about an hour, another hour spent to run the piece a few times until satisfaction. It's close to 2 hours before your team reaches this point, now allowing some time to walk around the festival before you're called to the stage to get ready for the competition.

Jongho points at a few vendors that are selling snacks, a few of you grabbing something small to eat— nothing too heavy before the performance. You and your friends snap a few pictures with your snacks in hand, sending one to Yunho as a way to let him know that the day has been good so far.

you: me! with friends!

yunho: very cute. ☺️ let me know how everything goes. i'm rooting for you!

You smile at your phone just as Hyunjin calls for your group and motions for them to come towards the stage. There are a good amount of other groups present, but no one is hostile in any way, or overly competitive. It's all good vibes and it makes it much, much easier to get through the competition in one piece.

The MC comes onto the stage to start the competition portion of the festival, greeting the large crowd that has flocked to the area. He greets the panelists sitting near the front stage; a few of them being choreographers you are familiar with and have taken workshops with before. He lists all the groups in attendance, with your team being second to last to perform.

You watch all the groups dance before you in awe, wondering how they move so gracefully, how they've pieced together everything so well. You always feel like you learn something new watching other dance groups, and you always feel so grateful to have the opportunities to learn from each other. Everyone is hyped up and bouncing along to the songs, having a good time being around people who love doing the same thing you do.

When it's time for your group to finally head up and perform, your nerves return. You stand in your position, eyeing the crowd that has grown tremendously with the other groups cheering off to the side. Your nerves switch to adrenaline quick when the music starts to play, getting into dance mode like everything depended on it.

You love doing what you do.

You love dance.

You love being here with your friends and showing off your talents.

You wish Yunho was here.

But, little did you know that he caught the livestream as soon as he got back home from bringing his mom to her appointment— smiling in awe every time he saw you in view. Today, you seem much happier and you have a glow to you. Yunho is happy that you're happy and enjoying yourself. He really wishes he could be there in person so he could hug you and congratulate you as soon as you step off the stage, but this will do.

He hopes you know that he does think of you, too.

You give it your all during the last few seconds, hitting the ending pose until the music cuts out. All of you cheer and hug for getting through another performance without any issues or injuries. As you step to the side to gather yourselves and take a breather, the final group heads on stage to close out. You all agreed that whatever happens today, you would leave happy and grateful for the opportunity to travel here and perform.

They give the judges 15 minutes to decide their top three, and that might've been the longest 15 minutes you've ever endured in your life. While you all wait around, a few people from other groups introduce themselves to you and invite you to the club to hangout afterwards. Your friends agree it'd be a good way to close out the weekend trip, especially with the club not being too far from the hotel. At this point, the MC comes back on stage to announce the top 3 for tonight's competition. You aren't expecting anything, and you've drilled it in your head that winning didn't necessarily mean much— though, it would be nice.

It wouldn't take away from your passion and love for it.

"Second place goes to—" The MC pauses. "Common Ground!" Your team reacts with a bunch of yells and smiles as you make your way back up to the stage to take a photo with your trophy. You and Chaery hug each other off stage, squealing in excitement before hugging Soobin and Seungmin.

"Congrats, ya'll!" Yeonjun yells. "Time to celebrate!" He yells, making everyone erupt in more cheers on the way back to the hotel. A few of your friends head out to pick up some pizza for the group, while the rest of you shower and start getting ready for the club. Thankfully, Chaery forced you to bring a cute outfit just in case any celebrations were in store. You throw on a simple black, sleeveless short bodycon dress with your converse highs and leather jacket. You take another picture to send to Yunho, one that makes him ogle a bit at how beautiful you look.

you: going out soon 😬 gonna celebrate!

yunho: as you should, pretty girl. 😍 you look amazing.

You giggle just as Yeonjun calls for everyone to come to his room and start pre-gaming, all of you squishing around his room to pass along the shots.

"Let's fucking go!" Yeonjun yells. "Cheers!" He points his shot up in the air, giving everyone a moment to tap their cups against each other before downing the alcohol. The pre-gaming picks up quickly and one shot, turns to two, turns to three or five—

You are drunk, and you miss Yunho.

"Babe, let's go!" Chaery yells for you, slightly dragging you by the arm as the rest of your group walks out of the hotel. She loops her arm with yours, holding onto you tightly as you all [loudly] walk across the street to the club where the party is taking place.

"I'm going!" You pout, letting her keep you close.

"You're drunk, why aren't you as happy and giddy?! Where is my girl!" Chaery asks loudly, making you protest a bit in her arms. "What is it?!"

"Stop yelling at me." You look at her. "I'm fine! I just—" You pause and drop her arm from yours. "Nevermind."

"What is it?" It's her turn to whine, looping her arm with yours again so you guys can keep up with the group.

"I kinda miss him."

"Who?" She glares at you. "Y/N, who? You better not be talking about Park Seonghwa."

"No. Not him." She furrows her brows.

"Then, who—" She gasps loudly and hits Soobin behind her, causing him to yell an 'ouch' in return. "Oh my god! Jeong Yunho?!" She yells his name for the entire town to hear.

"Stop, be quiet! What's wrong with you!" She squeals. Speaking of Yunho— though Yunho loves to be home to help his mom and aunt, he only spends a night to make his way back early just so he can see you as soon as you get back. He has the whole thing set up in his head, and he hopes he can pull it off. It's really nothing big, but he does want to surprise you [in a way] and see you smile.

That's all he wants.

"Where is he right now? Let's call him!" Chaery grabs your phone from your hand, instantly pulling up Yunho's number.

"He's at home, Chaery! Don't bother him—" Chaery screams when she hears Yunho answer on the other line with a deep 'hello,' making you smile from ear to ear even as you wrestle with her to get your phone back. "Chaery!"

"Yunho, you answered!" She looks at you. "He answered! He was waiting for your call, I think!"

"Give me the phone! I said don't bother him!" Yunho laughs as he continues to drive, hearing the commotion between you and Chaery [plus the background noise] echo in his car's bluetooth. "Yunho?"

"Hey. You okay?"

"Mm, yeah. I am just drunk." You emphasize the word, leaning your head on Chaery's shoulder as you continue to wait in line. "We are drunk. Sorry, Chaery called you."

"I see." Yunho laughs. "So, you weren't the one who wanted to call me?"

"I-I mean, yes, I did! But, Chaery physically hit your number because—" You pause, unsure if you should tell him you miss him. "Because she just did. Anyway. I'm here now!" Yunho bites on his bottom lip.

"I'm glad you are. Did you have fun today?"

"So much fun! I wish you came!"

"I know, I'm sorry. I'll make up for it, okay?"

"Okay, fine. I'll hold you to it." You giggle. "We won 2nd place! We get $250 to fund future group projects, events, fundraisers.. all that good stuff!"

"Congrats, Y/N! I knew your team would make it to top 3. I've been telling you." He smiles even though you can't see him. "You know, I caught the livestream."

"Y-you did?" You look at Chaery with those eyes, making her guess what the entire conversation is about.

"I did. You guys really did amazing. You deserve it."

♣︎ FLASHBACK

Yunho rushes back into the house, constantly checking his phone and hoping he isn't late to the livestream. He plops onto the couch next to his aunt, reaching over to grab the remote from the coffee table.

"I'm watching the news!"

"Really quickly. Please?" He pouts a bit. She lets out a sigh and nods, giving Yunho the green light to bring up the Youtube app. He types in the channel, pulling up the livestream that has already started. He quietly curses to himself when he sees a group already dancing on stage— praying to the powers above that he hadn't missed your group yet.

He will do anything, just as long as they give him this one thing. He suddenly regrets ever checking out girls, for ever having crude, boy-ish thoughts. He's apologizing to the universe so hard he doesn't even realize how still and quiet he's being—

"Wow, you're really serious about this dance stuff. I've never seen you so focused." His aunt says, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"I'm waiting for my friend and her dance group to come on stage. If they haven't already."

"Her?" Is the one thing his mom pulls out of the entire sentence. He looks over at her and lets out a small sigh.

"Yes."

"Is this the same her?"

"If it is?" His aunt laughs.

"I'm just asking, Jeong Yunho."

"Sorry." He says with a slight whine, eyes lighting up when he catches familiar faces coming on stage. His eyes are scanning the entire group until they finally land on you. Yunho subtly nibbles onto his bottom lip to prevent himself from smiling too big, ears feeling hot and red. You're incredibly cute, and he's suddenly missing you. But even if he tries to hide it, it's obvious to his mom and aunt. They won't question it even though they thoroughly enjoy seeing Yunho crushing on someone this hard.

His eyes continue to stay glued on the tv, a small smile and 'woah's' slipping from his lips every now and then. Once the performance comes to an end, he gives off a tiny clap before exiting the app and getting up from the couch.

"I think I know which one she is." His mom says, making Yunho respond as he heads back up the stairs to his old room to start packing and gathering his things.

"No, you don't." He teases.

"You can tell, huh? He's in love. He's definitely in love." His aunt adds, making his mom giggle.

♣︎ END

"You are.. too good to me." You sigh contently. "Seriously, how?"

"I'm just telling you the truth."

"Well, thank you. I appreciate that." You respond sweetly.

"Of course."

"Wait. A-are you at home? Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I told Chaery not to—"

"I'm actually heading to the apartment now. I'm just stopping for food first." He focuses on the lot ahead, pulling into a parking spot by his go-to restaurant near the apartment complex.

"Why'd you go home so early?"

"Because you're coming back early tomorrow." You feel the heat rise to your cheeks.

"You c-could've stayed—" You hiccup. "Woops. You could've stayed." You repeat to get your point across.

"It's alright. I just wanna make sure you get back in one piece."

"You're the best. Really, Yunho. Youuuu're the best." You slur a bit, making him silently chuckle to himself as he switches the call back to his phone. He steps out of the car and heads into the restaurant, giving the lady at the front a quick smile of acknowledgment.

"Nonsense." She points at his to-go bag and he gives her a thumbs up, handing over his card. "Why don't you go enjoy yourself?"

"Because I wanted to talk to you about stuffs. Do you want me to go?"

"It's not that. I just want you to have fun with your friends while you're there. Celebrate your wins and all."

"But, we're in line waiting to get into the club. I can talk to you about stuff—" Suddenly, Chaery grabs your hand and drags the phone to her ear— not giving you time to respond or fight back.

"S-She—" Chaery hiccups. "She likes you, Jeong Yunho! That's what it is! God, she is so cute when it comes to you—"

"Hey!" You respond with a slight whine. "Stop. I wanna tell him." Your voice is louder on the other line. "Yunho?" You call for him again and Yunho melts. God, you are too adorable.

"Yeah?"

"Did you hear her?"

"Sure did."

"No." You pout. "No, act like you didn't hear it, okay?"

"You sure?"

"Yes. Let me say it."

"Go for it, Y/N." He laughs a bit, signing his receipt before handing it over. He hears you clear your throat on the other line before you reply with a:

"I think I like you."

"You think? That's a shame, because I actually do like you." Yunho teases. He hears you whine again and it's awfully cute— he wishes he could be there, but he knows he'll see you as soon as you get back.

The things he could do to you right now. Like hold your hand, kiss you. It makes him feel giddy inside. You make him feel giddy inside.

"N-no, no!" You hiccup. "I like you! I like you!" You repeat drunkenly.

"I'm just teasing, Y/N. It's okay."

"No seriously, I like you."

"I like you, too."

"I mean it." He can almost see the pout on your face. "I know I'm kinda drunk or whatever, but I mean this."

"I know." He smiles to himself. "I know you mean it. I mean it, too."

"Yeah?" You ask in relief, followed by a giggle. "Yay! I'm so relieved."

"Good. Have fun tonight, okay? And please be safe."

"I will. I wish you were here."

"I'm there in spirit."

"I will t-text you—" Yunho slightly pulls the phone away from his ear when he hears a bunch of ruckus and chaos. "Seungmin, oh my god! Wait! The line is moving too fast, wait— I'll call you or text you later, okay? They're literally dragging me through the door."

"Okay." He laughs when he hears Seungmin respond in the back with an 'am not.' "Be safe please."

"I will!" You loudly giggle before abruptly ending the call. Yunho looks at his phone before doing a slight head tilt, truly hoping you'll get to and from the event safely and in one piece.

"Must be so cute to be all over somebody's sloppy seconds." Yunho cocks a brow up as he diverts his attention to Seonghwa and San, who stand a couple of steps away from him. They seems to be heading into the same restaurant that Yunho just picked up his food from, clenching his jaw as Seonghwa proceeds to walk closer.

"Right." Yunho lets out a small scoff. "Have a good night—"

"It's kinda funny. I didn't think she'd actually go for you." Seonghwa cuts him off and continues to try and taunt him. Yunho continues to clench his jaw, laying his eyes on him one last time before trying to brush past him. "Aw, that's incredibly rude of you to walk past someone who's talking to you."

"Hwa." San calls him lowly, hinting for him to let it go. Not the time, nor place.

"No, you're right." Yunho steps forward. "I'm just not sure what you want me to say, Seonghwa. Sorry you can't recognize a good thing when you have it?" The smug smirk on Seonghwa's face dies, and he's back to glaring at Yunho.

"I wouldn't talk on shit you don't know about."

"You sure I don't know anything about it? Because last time I checked, she was in my car when you left her in the cold." Yunho maintains eye contact with him, even as San steps in and pushes Seonghwa towards the restaurant.

"Let's go." San taps his chest and continues to edge him towards the door, nodding when Seonghwa finally lets up and licks his lips.

"She'll be back anyway." Seonghwa mutters as he turns around and heads into the restaurant with San. Yunho rolls his eyes and heads to his car— shaking off the entire interaction so it wouldn't spoil his night.

I mean, why in the fuck would he let Park Seonghwa, out of all people, spoil his night? If anything, Yunho couldn't care less that he's triggered.

He should be, rightfully so.

Let's get back to the point.

You told Yunho you liked him, and he can't help but smile to himself repeating how cute you sounded on the phone. Drunk, yes; but Yunho knows you wouldn't feed him bullshit [sober or not].

He wants you to enjoy yourself tonight and have fun. He knows you've been working hard at school, during practice. You deserve it, you deserve all of it. He misses you, and can't wait to see you tomorrow. Even if that meant a quick walk around the complex before you settled down for the day.

"Yo. You're back." Yeosang says coming out of his room just as Yunho walks through the door.

"Whattup?" Yunho smiles, tossing his bag and keyto the side. "Got some food from HK. Want some?"

"Mm, yeah. Might take a bit in a few." Yunho nods. "Why are you so smiley?" Yeosang asks, making him laugh a bit.

"Maybe I'm just happy to have food?" Yeosang smirks and crosses his arms.

"You saw Y/N, huh?"

"She's at her competition."

"Oh shit, that's right. Why didn't you go?"

"Had to be home to bring my mom to her appointment, so I wouldn't have made it in time." Yeosang nods. "I did hear from her and catch a bit of the livestream, though. They won second place. They're out celebrating right now so she's pretty drunk."

"Nice! At least her friends are there with her." Yunho nods. "Also kinda cute how she drunk called you, I'm assuming?"

"Yeah." Yunho chuckles. "She's cute."

"I'm saying, dude. You two would look really good together."

"Speaking of that, I ran into Park Seonghwa earlier while picking up the food."

"Oh, great. How was that?"

"He was just trying to get smart with me, but it's whatever."

"Aye man, his loss." Yeosang shrugs before taking a plate from the cabinet. "Have you decided if you're going to the party?" Yunho shakes his head.

"Not yet."

"Why not?"

"Parties are just.. not really my thing."

"I'll even go for a bit. I kinda want you to go and let loose, especially if Y/N is planning to be there."

"You don't have to do that." Yunho grabs his helping of food and pushes the containers towards Yeosang.

"No, seriously. I'll go. I haven't gone to a party in a minute, anyway. Might be kinda nice just to get out."

"Mm, yeah. Mingi keeps asking me about it, too." He does a slight head tilt. "He'll probably keep asking me until the day of."

"Option is there." Yeosang shrugs as he grabs his own helpings and starts to trek back to his room. "Anyway, thanks for the food! Think about it. Could be fun for one night." He gives Yunho another look before retreating back to his room.

Truthfully, Yunho has been contemplating about the party. He wants to go because he knows you'll be there, but he really can't stand them. He hates being in a stuffy room full of incredibly trashed people who know no boundaries.

But, this could be more time with you outside of school and he'll take what he can get.

So, maybe. Just maybe. Yunho will find himself at a party, trying to enjoy himself.

You.

And he's hoping Seonghwa doesn't become another fucking issue if he ends up going.

Though tonight, Seonghwa is the least bit worried about that party. He knows he'll be there, and it'll be the same thing— all the pretty girls trying to flock him and get his attention. He can't say he hates it because he doesn't. He can't think about all this right now because he hates what this has become, what you and Yunho have become.

And he's determined to be selfish, to get you back. He needs you to know just how much he misses you, needs you.

"Bro, what the hell was that about?" Seonghwa snaps out of his thoughts while San pays at the front, grabbing the plastic bag from the lady while thanking her.

"He just fucking irritates me."

"You never cared about Yunho before."

"Yeah, well."

"Yeah, well?" San furrows his brows at him as they walk out of the restaurant. "All this for Y/N and why? You made it clear you weren't gonna take it further with her."

"Things change."

"Things change genuinely, or because she's getting close to Yunho now?" No response. "Maybe you should let it go."

"What makes you think she's actually gonna take this further with him? He has nothing going for himself."

"I mean, she seems happy with him, Hwa. I'm not gonna lie." San shrugs.

"She's probably only feeling him because he wanted to be all knight in shining armor when she needed it the most. It's definitely not gonna last." Seonghwa shakes his head and gets into the car, slamming the door. "Whatever. I'm gonna get her back." San sighs, starting up the car without responding to the remark.

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