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espinosaurusrexex · 10 months

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Watchful Eyes

CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU

read Bucky's story here

summary: When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.

a/n: So that just happened... I don't know where it came from, but please enjoy. (Please don’t be discouraged by the word count - I promise you it’s worth it and I kindly ask you to at least try 💛)

word count: 10.8k

warnings: power differences, Steve is pining, watching someone over secret livestream (is this stalking?), women being referred to as objects (not by Steve), just so much fluff, and also angst (there is a happy ending!), smut (masturbation - m, praise kink, oral - f receiving, dirty talk, orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected p in v, size kink, breeding kink) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

“Can you start Monday?”

“I can start Monday.”

“Perfect.”

Holy fuckidy fuck fuck.

You had a job. A job that would crinkle some noses but it would pay money. Good money actually. Well, better than other offers in the branch.

It had been luck, really. Because during one drunken night, which had originally been dedicated to drowning yourself in self-pity over the last job that had let you go due to staff cuts, your friend Natasha had crashed your party with Chinese food and gossip from her workplace. She was an assistant for one of the CEO’s of Shield Protection Services. And during her lunch with Sharon, the other assistant, Sharon had complained about Steve Rogers and how he had fired the third maid this month because they, apparently, were taking pictures of his home or selling some of his things.

There might have been some talk about how picky and stuck up he could be but the important info was that Sharon was desperate at this point and had asked Nat if she knew anyone with the decency not to breach privacy and willingness to clean the CEO’s home.

The good thing - or bad thing, you weren’t sure - was, Nat knew you were desperate too. So she gave Sharon your number and before you knew it, you were an employed woman again.

❁ ❁ ❁

It was too early for you to be roaming the streets of New York, but you had gotten instructions and so you had gotten up at 6 and headed out to the address. And when you arrived, it felt as though it was the first time you blinked since the subway - you were that tired. Definitely not a morning person.

The building was huge, tall glass fronts stretching into the sky and the ride up to the penthouse took longer than your average elevator rides did.

The doors opened and revealed a beautiful open floor plan. A whole wall of windows brought natural light into the place and offered a view so breathtaking, it took you a moment to collect yourself. The place was ginormous - a lot to clean up - but seemed tidy enough to at least get started right away.

You placed your bag on the counter by the kitchen and took more of the place in when suddenly, a voice startled you.

“Who are you?” You whipped around, big eyes searching for the source until they landed on a tall man standing in what seemed to be a dining area - well, one of them at least. He had broad shoulders, neatly styled hair and one of those toothpaste smiles you only ever saw in magazines. He was wearing office attire, blue dress pants that slightly stretched over his muscled thighs, and when your head wandered back up his body, piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right into your soul.

Holy Shit.

Before you stood Steve Rogers, three-time Forbes Magazine cover story, young entrepreneur turned filthy-rich hunk of a man, and CEO of the most successful security firm in this country. And he was talking to you - staring at you... waiting for an answer.

Talking, you needed to start talking, you reminded yourself.

“I’m the new maid, sir. I’m so sorry I was told to come here at 7 as you leave for work before that.”

Mr. Rogers looked at you with an unintelligible stare. Meanwhile, you were nervously wringing your hands in the doorway, looking down. You hadn’t planned for anyone important to see you today. The worn-down Fleetwood Mac shirt you didn’t mind getting bleach on hanging over some pants you pulled from the back of your closet definitely wasn’t the kind of outfit you expected to greet Steve Rogers in. Great start. This was going awful.

“Well I’m here aren’t I?” His arms folded before his chest as his eyebrow raised, impressive biceps bulging beneath the white button-up, and - damn - it was hard not to stare.

“Right. Yes. Sorry. I’ll come back later.” You turned to leave again but he stopped you.

“No need. I am on my way out.” The left corner of his mouth twitched into a cheeky grin when he grabbed his bag, left the newspaper discarded on the table, and placed his coffee mug in the sink. Interesting.

“Don’t snoop.” He whispered teasingly as he passed you, a whiff of expensive cologne paralyzing your senses and you weren’t sure if he was making a suggestion or actually warning you. That damn perfume seemed to hypnotize you.

Your eyes followed his broad shoulders until they disappeared behind the corner and then the elevator doors shut. It seemed to take all the tension from your face. You exhaled long and then began to look around some more.

The place was huge, you’d already established that. But when you found the third bedroom amongst the private office and Pool table room, you knew you had to make a weekly plan to work off. You had to give Mr. Rogers credit, though. There was rarely any clutter lying around - it wasn’t dirty per se - just had the usual dust you’d expect in a place this size with only one person living in it.

You huffed, resting your hand on your hips once you completed the tour. And then you got started.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve peered up from his computer screen when Bucky strolled through the doors of his office. A coffee in hand he had most likely tweaked from his assistant's desk on the way here, he shot a grin to his oldest friend and business partner.

“What ya doing, punk?” The brunette asked teasingly when he circled the desk and settled on the window sill behind Steve.

“Just making sure things stay in order.” He leaned back and turned around slightly, just in time to see his friend nod knowingly.

“Heard Nat got you a new maid.” Bucky dipped his chin towards the laptop still open on the desk. “That her?”

His eyes wandered to the screen where a live feed of his apartment streamed you changing his bedsheets. He hummed in agreement.

“She’s pretty,” Bucky commented before sipping his coffee again and Steve felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in his stomach. “But I bet you don’t care anyway. You’re all ‘don’t sell my stuff’ and ‘having things stolen from a security firm CEO is embarrassing’. Wouldn’t know a pretty thing like that if it climbed you.”

“Because it is embarrassing. And I highly recommend you monitor your staff to make sure they don’t do the same.” Of course, Steve knew you were ‘pretty’. Exactly his type, to be honest. He had noticed it the second you stepped into his apartment this morning. The way your hands wrung beneath you. And he had shot you a teasing remark in hopes of discovering a sassy fire in those timid doe eyes of yours. But you had stumbled over your words like a fawn.

Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Nonsense. Peggy is great - and too old to even carry anything valuable out of my place. I trust her with my life and house keys.” And then he pushed off the sill. “I think it’s time for you to get laid again. And that’s why I’m a great friend and organized dinner and drinks with Tony and Sam tonight.”

Steve fell back in his chair, hands over his eyes. “I don’t need your wing-maning me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.”

“Sure.”

“I’m serious, Buck.”

“You can thank me later.” He stout towards the door. “You know... after you’ve been devoured by the pretty little waitress at the Ironbar.” Bucky winked before his face disappeared again.

Steve just huffed as his eyes landed back on the weekly report on his desk and then swayed back to his computer screen.

As unwilling as he was to admit it, it had been some time since his last late-night rendezvous. And as he saw you crawl up on his bed to place the bedsheets properly along his mattress, he felt his pants tighten slightly.

❁ ❁ ❁

“We’ll get one more round of the good stuff.”

“Of course Mr. Stark.” Tony winked and patted his waitress’s butt before she stalked away on her high heels and towards the locked glass cabinet behind the bar.

Steve had designed it himself, a fiberglass shrine-like display for ridiculously expensive liquors, only to be opened by a passcode that got regenerated every week. He watched as Betty - the young and lanky waitress - retrieved a crystal bottle of whiskey and filled four glasses with the golden liquid.

“God, I love that thing,” Tony sighed next to Steve and watched Betty with a satisfied smile.

“You better be talking about that cabinet, Stark.” Steve shook his head with a frown only to receive a wink from Tony, who was sitting closest to him at the round table.

“So...” Bucky leaned over to Steve and spoke in a hushed voice. “You see anything you like?” He gestured at the bar where Tony’s carefully picked waitresses passed with filled and emptied glasses and bottles. They were all wearing tight black t-shirts and skirts or shorts that counted just as scandalous. One could foolishly mistake this place for a Hooters if Tony hadn’t made it one of the most pristine bars in all of New York City.

It was popular amongst the clientele which mainly consisted of bored rich men that came here to get something to look at without being judged for it. But Steve wasn’t feeling the girls today. When Betty shoved her breasts in his field of view, all he could think about was how he had never gotten the idea to get his maids a uniform that catered to his... liking. And when Betty swayed her hips on her way to the bar, his thoughts became clouded by the image of you in a short little skirt, riding up just a little to tease I’m about what was hidden underneath when you kneeled on his bed to get the sheets sorted.

Steve adjusted his pants at the little flashback, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his seat.

“Oh, apparently you have...” Bucky grinned before his eyes hushed down to Steve’s crotch and back up just as fast. “Well then,” he leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Which one is it? Samatha? Tiffany? Though I think Megan is more your type.”

“Just shut up, punk.”

“Okay you don’t have to tell me me... either way, my job here is done.” He brushed his hands off fake dust and smiled smugly. “You better be in a good mood tomorrow.”

Steve just huffed and waited for Betty to come back with ‘the good stuff’ to hopefully drown out his annoying friends for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them. No, he would do anything for the people he chose to have in his life. The group he found himself in right now had been through thick and thin with him, stayed through his fame and fortune, and was just as supportive before it had all happened to either of them. He was happy having the guys because they built each other up and aimed for greatness - together, they were fucking invincible.

But sometimes, Steve felt a little out of place amongst Bucky and Tony. It was in situations regarding women most of all because he could never adapt the attitude to talk about them the way they did. And he never had the headspace to juggle as many as they did. He had tried the one-night stands. But he struggled to navigate the superficial pleasure maze New York City provided in masses. Because just as the ever-passing smiles on the streets, it wasn’t fulfilling enough for Steve. At least not in the way it was for his friends.

He wanted what Sam had. A partner, a family, something constant and beautiful. And that was, why he found himself asking for pictures of Sam’s kids and nephews rather than listen to Tony’s latest bed bunny endeavor whenever the conversations took a turn in that direction.

“Earth to Rogers,” Sam’s finger snapped in front of Steve’s face. “What this I’m hearing? You got a new maid? What happened to the old one?”

“She sold his stuff on Craigslist.” Bucky snorted and took a sip of the drink that had magically appeared in front of them.

“You aren’t serious.”

“I really liked that tie,” Steve grumbled into his cup.

“Man, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with things like that. You rich people really are a different breed.”

“You’re rich, too, Sam.”

Sam just smiled above his crystal glass, having fun with the little joke he liked to pull for ages now. He wasn’t any less successful than any of the other men at their table. But other than them, he had settled in a beautiful neighborhood - despising the concrete jungle each of the other guys lived in. His house felt like home, like a cozy place that had seen love and time and nothing like the polished and sleek man caves the rest of them owned.

“Well, anyways, my amazing assistant organized him a new one, the prettiest thing - really. But he’s refusing to see it.”

Tony chuckled. “Well, that's Rogers in a nutshell, isn’t it.”

Sam just pursed his lips and glanced over at Steve with a soft smile, ignoring the comments of the other guys. They never explicitly talked about it, but Sam was a smart man, and it would have surprised Steve, had he not already figured out that he was more of a family man than their friends were as of right now.

“To new maids that aren’t selling your clothes on the internet then.” He raised his drink and winked at Steve once their glasses clinked.

And Steve? He visibly exhaled, silently thanking Sam for pulling the tension out of their conversation.

❁ ❁ ❁

It had been a little over a week. And so far, things had been going great.

By now, you had cleaned through the entire place once and set up a plan of what to do on which day. You weren’t surprised it actually took a full 6 days to cover every single room in Mr. Rogers’s apartment. You had already figured out which tasks were going to be your favorite and which weren’t. Like his bedroom. You liked doing that. Because even though the sheets were a bitch to get on the ginormous bed, you kind of liked the smell the room had. His pillows smelled of the cologne you couldn’t forget ever since the man had brushed past you on your very first day.

You were pretty sure you would never forget that since your knees literally felt like giving in at that moment.

Today, it was bedroom day. That and the on-suite.

With a smile on your face, you entered the apartment on the top floor, each day secretly hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the CEO before he took off to work. But even though you tried to arrive ten minutes earlier (you really couldn’t spare any more sleep for your own good), the first day remained an exception in Mr. Rogers’s daily schedule.

You placed your bag on the stool at the open kitchen island, changed into some other shoes, and headed for the supply closet. Despite the size of the place, you actually got around pretty easily. Mr. Rogers was a very organized and neat man - you’d noticed that the first and only time you met him. So things were almost always where you’d think they would be. Which made your job just that much easier. But also prevented you from the advised ‘not snooping’ you desperately wanted to do.

You knew better though.

People like Steve Rogers probably had cameras installed in this place. And you would certainly not go and rummage through his underwear drawer after he had personally told you not to. Who knows what strings powerful people like him could pull. So, for the sake of not waking up on a cargo ship to Madagascar one day, you restrained yourself as much as possible.

Of course, you didn’t stop your eyes from wandering whenever you swept the shelves in his walk-in closet or closed the drawers in his office space. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. And this girl had a nosy best friend on her back that wanted to know every little detail of her new job... and was also way too invested in celebrity gossip.

Though, as always, there was nothing out of the ordinary today - there never was. Sure, it was still exciting to see how the filthy rich lived but other than that, no scandalous collection of women’s underwear, or drug lord papers lying around. You started to believe that Steven Grant Rogers was a very boring man. Not that you could properly judge in your position, seeing as you did not really know him, but the whole being in his home seemed a little too intimate not to do so.

So that day you finished the tasks for the day, packed your stuff, and made your way back home, hoping to see him in the morning or to at least find something more interesting than dust in his home.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve greeted the concierge of his building when he entered the marbled entree hall. With a little frown and a look at his watch, the man greeted him back before he resumed his work.

Yes, Steve was home earlier than usual. He regularly stayed even longer than his original work schedule intended. Today, however, he was home even earlier. But after another banter with Bucky about Steve’s non-existent sex life, he couldn’t imagine making it past five in the same building as his persistent best friend. So, he fled the office and decided to work through the rest of his papers at home.

Of course, Steve knew that Bucky only wanted the best for him. But the ways he tried to approach the supposed bothersome loneliness Steve had in his bed just weren’t for Steve. Those might have worked on Tony - hell, Tony probably invented setting his friends up with one-night-stands - but not on Steve.

He huffed and swiped some loose hairs from his forehead as the elevator dinged at the top floor. The doors opened to the window front of his penthouse apartment and Steve stepped over the threshold, immediately stopping in his tracks when he took in the scene before him.

The vacuum was running while you were kneeling on the floor, wiping up some water he only assumed came from the vase missing next to his sofa. He would have found it rather amusing if it weren’t for the way you carried yourself today. Something wasn’t right.

Steve knew that you weren’t usually this messy - that much he could tell from the livestream that had become a constant in his office by now. Your head hung low, your motions hurried and sloppy. He watched as you swiped the floor, one of your sleeves constantly slipping down your arm again until you angrily pushed it up further than necessary.

It was worrisome.

He couldn’t place the feeling he felt in his chest when he sat his briefcase down and approached you from behind. His foot carefully turned off the vacuum and then he stood still, careful not to startle you when you finally looked up at him.

He could see it in your eyes then. The panic, the uncertainty, and something else he hadn’t seen in them before.

You looked around you as if you were seeing the mess for the first time and when Steve was still watching you with an arched brow after a minute of silence, you suddenly sprung up to your feet.

“I am so Sorry, Mr. Rogers. I didn’t realize it was this late already.” You turned a full 360 until your eyes landed on his again. “I’ll have this cleaned up in no time and I'll be out of your way. I promise.”

Steve watched as you scrambled to gather the vacuum cord, struggling with it when it didn’t immediately snap back into the caster. “The subway was stuck in a tunnel for an hour because some guy decided to pull the emergency break for fun. And then this lady passed out next to me and when the fire department finally got us out and the paramedics packed her in the ambulance, I realized that I still had her purse.” You finally got the cord in turning so fast that the wet rag in your hands sprayed some water on Steve. “And do you know how difficult it is to find out which hospital they’re taking people? Because it’s so much more difficult than it looks in the movies. I didn’t know that! And then it was almost 10 a.m. when I got here. I am so sorry. This won’t happen again I promise-“

“Hey,” Steve finally stepped forward and caught your flailing hands with his and it shut you up. “It’s alright.” He spoke softly, guiding your hands down and proceeding to carefully stroke your arms down. “Are you okay? Do you need a day off?”

Your doe eyes stared up at him, round and shiny as if you couldn’t believe he was actually standing in front of you. And Steve had to admit, besides the concern breezing through his body, your face was capturing up close. He traced your lashes with his gaze, the way your lips were parted slightly, your teeth showing past your upper lip, and the way your eyebrows were raised in shock.

“No... no, I’m fine.” You finally stammered and it made Steve relax a little.

“Then take a breath for me, please.” You nodded and Steve watched as your shoulders moved when you inhaled with your eyes closed. It shook Steve out of his trance. He cleared his throat and retreated his hands from your arms, awkwardly standing up a little straighter now that there was no excuse to touch you anymore.

You were fine - that’s what you had said. But you didn’t quite seem that way.

He watched as you opened your eyes and gifted him a small smile. Then your gaze dew to the floor and the mess you were standing in. Your smile turned awkward.

“I’ll clean this up real quick and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

Steve shook his head with a smile. Maybe this was a nice opportunity to do as Bucky had suggested. It was true, Steve hadn’t been interested enough before. Had he taken more time to know his former maids better, he could have probably prevented his things from being stolen and sold. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what Bucky had meant by ‘interested’, but Save decided it would do for now. “You can do what you need to and you can take as much time as you need to. I’ll be in my office for some time, so please don’t rush. I didn’t mean to freak you out by coming home earlier.”

His arms reached up to scratch the back of his neck and your eyes landed on his bicep. Those damn doe eyes. “O- okay.”

He nodded, buried his hands in his pockets, gifted you a tight-lipped smile, and then proceeded to grab his briefcase and disappear into his office at the end of the hall.

After some time, he heard the vacuum pick back up. Steve peaked through his open office door and caught a glimpse of you roaming his living room every now and then. It was relieving to know that you were functioning again. You had him worried for a second there - a feeling the successful CEO hadn’t welcomed in a hot minute. But it was kind of nice, made him feel a little more human than usual. So he didn’t mind having you work while he was home. On the contrary, actually, even though he had a huge stack of papers to go through, having to do them with a little bit of white noise was much more efficient than he had thought. He liked it when the occasional sound of items being set down snook its way to his office just to be interrupted by the vacuum again. And before he knew it, the workload he had taken home with him today, was worked through.

Steve made his way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Though, as he waited for the machine, he found himself leaning against the counter and watching you work in front of him. You were currently bent over the sofa, arranging the cushions after shaking them out, your shirt riding up ever so slightly and exposing a strip of skin on your back.

The fresh grounding of coffee beans covered the way Steve gulped loudly at the sight of you in front of him. This was definitely different than watching on his laptop screen. He felt his pants tighten ever so slightly as he imagined walking up to you and just taking you from behind. Your face would press into the pillows as he would easily push into you, hearing your drawn-out moans through the cushions.

He couldn’t help himself, you were just so pretty.

The smell of coffee drew Steve back to reality. It wasn’t that simple. Because Steve wanted you to want him as well. But you didn’t know him well enough yet.

You pulled the vacuum around the corner and seconds later the sound of the storage room door closing echoed through the apartment. You walked back into the living room, adjusted the book on his coffee table, and then looked at your work with your hands on your hips. It was kind of cute to watch, Steve had to admit.

“Well done,” Steve praised and your shoulders jerked in surprise.

“Woah, didn’t see you there, Sir.” You relaxed again and then moved to change your shoes, before packing the other pair in your bag. You looked like you were about to leave, but Steve didn’t want that.

“Would you like some coffee?” He offered and turned to grab the mug that was just filled with the steaming hot beverage.

But you shook your head, raising your hands. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’m sure you’ve got work to do...”

“I wouldn’t have asked if it were an inconvenience.”

You looked down and nodded, which made Steve smile and hand you the cup. Your hands encased it like it was a cold winter's day, timid looks roaming the room and landing everywhere but him.

“You seem uncomfortable,” he tried, cautious not to intrude.

“I’m not. It’s just that... I’m not used to,” you gestured around the kitchen, “all this.”

“I know it sounds stupid but sometimes I feel the same.” Steve took in the high ceilings and shiny surfaces, the expensive paintings and furniture he had no part in picking out.

You just stared at him again before nodding and averting your eyes once more. It seemed like you were holding back, but Steve didn’t feel like he was in the position to ask. So he just had to do with your fleeting glances and diffident presence. It was fine for now. Though he didn’t know if he could actually stand it for long.

“You got this job through Bucky’s assistant, right?”

“Natasha, yes. She’s my best friend.” Your eyes lit up and Steve celebrated the little victory in silence. He had finally found something to talk about with you.

“How long have you known each other?” He took a sip of his own coffee, acting indifferent, though his gaze hung on your lips.

“We’ve been friends since high school. But then we went to different colleges and for a moment, we lost contact. But when I called her after graduation, we reconnected. We coincidentally both moved to New York. It’s nice to have her back.”

“That does sound nice. I know a thing or two about reconnecting with old friends.” Steve smiled reminiscent.

“Right, your business partner. Mr. Barnes.” You set your mug down when Steve shot you a surprised look. “Sorry, but it’s hard not to know things about you when every tabloid in the country has covered your story.”

Steve nodded, being reminded once again how different his life was now. Not that he didn’t appreciate it... it just used to be simpler.

“Yes, Bucky is my oldest friend... we’d lost contact in-between as well. Now we spend so much time together, I sometimes wish it was that way again.”

“You don’t mean that,” you laughed and Steve swore it was the prettiest he’d ever heard.

“Of course not.” He set his cup down once he noticed that you had finished your coffee and had grabbed your bag from the stool.

“I should go,” you smiled sadly and Steve just nodded with a similar expression on his face. Then he pushed off the counter and walked you to the elevator. He caught your small wave before the doors closed, leaving his stomach feeling warm and fuzzy.

This was definitely new.

❁ ❁ ❁

The next week was pure torture.

Steve couldn’t work from home like he had wanted to. He also couldn’t go to work later to at least catch a ‘good morning’ from you.

It had only lasted a couple more days. He had managed to trap you for a conversation with coffee two times after the first one and then it all went downhill from there.

Steve’s work seemed to pile up in unusual amounts of papers on his desk. His e-mails and meetings were longer than ever and his frustrations built with every new message Sharon redirected to his phone.

It wasn’t until Bucky pointed out how unusually grumpy he was, that Steve realized, he missed you. How could that have happened? He barely knew you and talked to you even less than that. But he knew he was missing you. Because as silly as it sounded, the time he spent with you, he was more relaxed than ever before.

“I’m headed home, now. Do you need anything before I go?” Sharon popped her head through the door of Steve’s office after the knock she placed there.

Steve just sighed as he closed one of a dozen tabs on his computer. Then he shook his head. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early!” She beamed and Steve just waved her off.

The door fell shut once again and Steve moved to close a second tab. The one open beneath was the video footage of his home. It was paused because Steve had categorized it as ‘not suited for work’ once he saw you climb on his bed to straighten out the sheets and his dick reminded him just how deprived he really was.

Looking at the paused video now, his pants tightened again. There you were, on all fours on his bed, tugging the sheet under the headboard side of his mattress - ass up and struggling. Fucking hell.

His hand instinctively moved to his crotch to relieve some tension and then his eyes fell to his office door. Sharon had gone home. He was likely the only one left. His gaze wandered back to his computer screen and before he knew it, he was rubbing his hard cock through his pants.

He groaned lowly at the feeling spreading through his body, the image on his screen just intensifying the scenarios he usually imagined when he got himself off. Because now they had your face. And your perfect body. If he squinted at the screen, he could actually see a sliver of your underwear peaking out the top of your pants.

“Jesus Christ,” He pushed through his teeth when his hands worked to open his belt and pulled his rock-hard length out. He was already leaking from the angry red tip.

His thumb grazed over his sensitive flesh, spreading the beads of precum and his whole body shivered when he imagined you doing it instead. His knees spread further apart in his office chair as he squeezed the base of his cock, concentrating on his breathing to slow. And then, without thinking, his other hand moved to play the video.

Steve’s eyes never left the screen as he watched you tug the sheets tight. Your ass bounced up and down with the motion and he began to pump his shaft, imagining pushing into you from behind. Then you crawled back slowly, careful not to pull the sheet off again, but one corner came loose anyway. As you leaned forward, your new position seemed even more obscene - with your arms stretched forward and your ass still slightly lifted off the mattress.

Steve’s fist pumped harder up and down his cock, he was panting. He could already feel the orgasm building. His balls were on the edge of bursting - but he wanted to hold out a little longer.

For a second, his gaze jumped to the little speaker icon at the bottom right corner of his screen. His right hand still pumping with a tight grip, the left moved to slightly turn up the volume on the stream.

Just then, you released a frustrated groan, followed by a throatier, softer noise that could almost be mistaken for a moan and Steve lost it. His fist stroked his thick cock in hard fast motions, the tingle in his body building with every heavy breath you released. His thumb grazed over his tip when you fell forward like a fawn and it was enough to make him burst.

He closed his eyes and threw his head back on the chair. With a last firm push, he tumbled over the edge, squeezing his flesh as he felt the hot ropes of cum cover his hand. His heart beat in his ears once the ecstasy subsided, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.

Steve stared at the ceiling, sighing in defeat. He was in deep now.

❁ ❁ ❁

“So... how’s it going?” Nat’s voice rang through your speaker and you pressed your phone a little harder to your ear to hear her over the street noises.

“It’s going really good. I don’t see him that often but he’s not messy at all, so it’s really not that bad.”

“Good, I’m glad!” Nat cheered on the other end of the line and you could hear her computer keys clicking beneath her fingernails. “Anything you wanna tell me?” Her tone was suggestive, and you kind of hated how well she knew you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, we’re stating the obvious here. He’s hot!”

“Nat!” You gasped appalled. “I’m not going around asking you if you think your boss is hot.”

“Why not? I'm not ashamed to admit it. My boss is hot,” she stated plainly and shorty after a distant ‘You got that right, doll!’ was heard through your speaker.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, watching around you as if anyone could hear what Nat was saying.

“So...?”

“Okay, yes he’s super hot and I wish he would just grab me with his big muscled arms and kiss the life out of me every time I see him. Are you happy now?”

“Yes, very.”

You waved at the concierge when you reached Mr. Roger’s apartment building and then stepped into the elevator. “Good. I can’t believe I just made me say that out loud.”

“We both know it’s true. No shame in a little crush.” You could practically hear her grin through the phone and it just annoyed you even more. How could she call you out when she was a mile away?

“Great, now I’m actually imagining kissing him and running my hands down his chest,” You huffed as the elevator door opened and turned the corner just to stop in your tracks.

“I knew it!”

“Nat, I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, but-“ and then you ended the call as your eyes were glued to the kitchen counter.

You stepped closer, your eyes never leaving where they had landed upon your arrival. There, on the polished black marble, stood a vase with a beautiful bouquet of pastel flowers.

Your breath hitched in your throat as your fingers traced the colorful petals, and you leaned in to smell them. This was so sweet! A little giddiness shot through your body at the sight of the flowers. You’d never expected them from Mr. Rogers and it was nice to be appreciated.

Feeling excitement all over, your fingers reached for the little white card lodged between a eucalyptus branch. But when you turned it over, all of it fell like someone had turned on gravity again.

Happy one month!

Your mind repeated the words over and over again until they registered.

Happy one month.

You dropped the card and it made a dull clicking noise on the counter. How could you have been so naïve? Nat had put this stupid haze in your brain, getting you all giddy and excited. Of course, he had a fucking girlfriend. How could he not? He was Steve fucking Rogers.

You needed to take a step back and breathe. Those were a few too many emotions to feel in the early morning for you. Now you even felt guilty about wanting to run your fingers down his body. God, you’d even said it out loud - how embarrassing!

“Okay, girl. Relax. Nobody heard,” you reminded yourself out loud. And then you took a deep breath with your eyes closed.

“It’s not embarrassing if nobody saw. I’m the only one that can decide the level of awkwardness here.” Maybe stop talking to yourself then. You nodded and carefully placed the card back in the bouquet.

“This never happened,” you whispered, more so to ensure yourself. “Just move on with your day.”

Thank god it wasn’t kitchen day - you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of those flowers any longer.

With your shoulders pulled back and your head held high, you made your way to the supply closet and got to work.

It’s just another day. You reminded yourself when you pulled your cleaning supplies out and into the office.

Just like any other day...

❁ ❁ ❁

Boy, had you never been any more wrong.

Your phone rang at 7.30 that evening. You had already made yourself comfortable on your sofa, ready to binge a whole season of Gilmore Girls, after a successful day of pretending you hadn’t gotten the biggest turn-down of the century this morning. You had finished your cleaning plan, you had gone grocery shopping, bought yourself some own damn flowers, and even showered all before the sun had set.

But now your phone rang and the caller ID could not mean anything good.

“Hello?”

“Good evening!” Your name echoed through the speaker of your phone, a - for your taste - way too cheery woman on the other end. “I am very sorry I have to call so late. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“That’s alright, what do you need?” You bit your lip nervously, only dreading the next words of Mr. Rogers’s assistant.

“Well, actually it is not I that needs anything. Mr. Rogers requested for you to see him. Is that possible?”

“What? When?”

“Now would be amazing.” Your eyes widened at her words. Mr Rogers wanted to see you and it couldn’t wait until tomorrow? You must have done something horribly wrong. Oh, god, had he noticed you messed with the flowers? Had he seen you sniff his pillows? All possible scenarios of wrongdoing swarmed your head when you sprung up and bolted for your closet.

“I can be there in thirty minutes,” you hurried through the speaker just to receive a satisfied hum from the other end.

“Amazing! Thank you so much.”

She had hung you before you could even answer. It didn’t matter. You looked through your clothes, trying to decide what an appropriate ‘getting fired’ outfit would consist of - probably no sweatpants, so you could find the closest bar and drink your sorrows away in connection to the dreaded talk.

You pulled out something, you could see yourself crying in and headed for the door.

❁ ❁ ❁

8.00 pm on the dot, the elevator doors opened to reveal a beautiful New York Skyline. Unfortunately, you neither had the headspace, nor the time to appreciate it properly. As soon as you turned the corner you saw Mr. Rogers casually leaning on the kitchen island.

Instantly, you felt intimidated. He had never done anything to make you feel scared or in danger, but his mere presence was so powerful, you didn’t quite know how to act around him. Especially, because on top of it all, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on.

“What did I do?” It just sprung out of you, your arms wanted to hug your body but you willed them still. He didn’t need to see how worried you really were.

To your surprise, however, his face scrunched up in amusement instead. He pushed himself off the counter and gestured towards the flowers still standing proud on that polished marble top.

“You forgot your flowers.”

“My... my flowers?” He nodded with a small frown, probably confused by your reaction. And to be honest, you were too.

“Yes... I got you flowers. You’ve officially been working here for a month. That’s a record.” He shook his head with a chuckle and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m... very picky.”

His eyes met yours and a whole new wave of uncertainty washed over you. You didn’t miss the hesitation in his tone, the carefully chosen wording for something he didn’t exactly say.

“So, I’m not fired.” God, why did it take so long for you to register. You just looked so stupid right now.

“On the contrary.” Mr. Rogers took a step closer, though still keeping a respectable distance. “I think I can trust you. I’m very pleased with your work. You deserve them.”

“I do?” You looked up at him with big eyes when he took another step closer. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up now that he was so near.

“Can I trust you?”

His chest would almost touched you, if you were to breathe any heavier. Your breath hitched in your throat when the faint remains of his perfume reached your nose. It was as intoxicating - the way his eyes stared down at you - intense and looming. “Ye- Yes.”

“Good.” His voice was a raw timbre. His gaze drifted to the side, where his hand slowly reached up to lay on your shoulder. You felt warm and tingly from the touch.

Not knowing what to do exactly, you just held your breath and stared up at his eyes. They were so blue - and up close, they were so much more captivating than any magazine photograph could ever display.

You wanted to touch him, reach out, and pull him down towards you, but he had just told you he trusted you. Were you really going to risk this perfectly good job for a heated moment?

His other hand came up to graze your cheek with a careful touch and the worry of losing your job suddenly became very small. Mr. Roger’s hands were warm, his fingers almost hot even compared to your heated face.

So you did it. Your hand reached forward and landed on the top of his chest, one of them traveled down the hard plane of his torso while the other clawed at his shirt collar. His thumb traveled to your lower lip, pulling it down and then stroking over the soft flesh, touching your teeth as well.

Guided by the heat traveling through our body, your right hand tightened around his shirt and pulled him down and onto your lips. The blonde man jerked forward until his mouth crashed onto yours, immediately moving in perfect sync with yours.

Your insides were tingling from the kiss when you felt his lips pull into a smile. His big hands roamed your body until they snook around your back, pulling you flush against his body and making you sigh contently.

Mr. Rogers chuckled and then kissed you deeper. His touch was everywhere, yours too. Your mind was free of anything that wasn’t the tall, built, blonde man in your arms as soon as his tongue traced your bottom lip - asking for you to let him in. And you did just that. When he began to explore your mouth, you melted even further into his embrace.

No man had ever kissed you like that. Which was why you dreaded the moment you had to pull away for air.

Your hand landed on his cheek, thumb softly stroking his beard, eyes locked with his.

“You’re very good at this.”

He just chuckled and pecked your lips once more. “Up.” He demanded, suddenly, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you as if you weighed nothing.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm gonna show you how good I am at this.”

Then he set you down on the bed and pushed you back until your head hit the comforter. His scent, the one you’d secretly been craving ever since you started working here, engulfed you like a big blanket. He stood above you, big and broad-shouldered, looming over you like a wild animal. But you weren’t scared.

“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking and licking bruises to your skin until you moaned beneath him and your hands clung to his hair. “I’ve been watching you,” he murmured to your neck and a shiver traveled down your spine.

“I knew it,” you gasped when he reached a spot behind your ears that sparked more pleasure. The thought of him spending his day watching you made you all excited and impatient.

“The way you stumble about this place when you clean it... How do you navigate the world being this clumsy, Bambi?” A whimper escaped you at the nickname he chose for you. “You need somebody to take care of you, huh.”

You arched your back to brush up against him. His hard cock was already straining his pants, pressing into your own deliciously. “Ah, yes.”

“Don’t worry, Bambi, I’m right here. I’ll take real good care of you.” His fingers traveled down your body until they reached the hem of your jeans and began to tug on them.

You pulled him down to your lips once more, guiding his head back to that spot behind your ear that had you squirming on the sheets. “So needy.”

His voice was so low and husky now, you barely noticed he had already worked your pants open and halfway down your legs. You kicked them off the rest of the way and arched yourself back against him just to have him grind down on your core.

“Feel so good, so big,” you mumbled through the haze you already found yourself in. God, what was it with this man - he was out of this world.

“You can’t wait any longer, can you, Bambi?” His hands moved beneath your shirt and began to massage your breasts. “But I get it. I don’t wanna wait any longer, either.”

In a swift motion, he had you flipped on your stomach, his hands traveling to your hips to pull you on all fours in front of him. Then the bed dipped and you felt his fingers press to your soaked underwear. He rubbed the drenched fabric over your entrance, only driving you wild with need when his fingers reached higher to your clit. “So pretty.”

“I need you,” you whined, “need you so bad.”

“Believe me, I need you too.” He pulled the black lace over the curve of your ass and you felt the cool bedroom air hit your wet core, only making you shiver once more.

“You’re so fucking perfect, you know that.” You could only whimper in response when his hand pushed your head into the comforter and his face suddenly pressed into your pussy from behind.

“Oh, god.” A yelp escaped you as his tongue teased at your entrance, only to be pulled back to lick a long strip from your clit back to it. His hand massaged your cheeks and the constant moaning to your core shook you from the inside out.

“This isn’t enough, is it, Bambi?” He dragged a strong finger up your spine. “You need me to fill you all the way up, don’t you? Need me to mark you, show everyone you’re mine.”

“Yes, yes, fill me up, give it all to me. Fuck me and make me yours.” You were so desperate at this point. His mouth had you squirming and aching for the promising bulge beneath his pants and you couldn’t wait to feel him raw - you’d let him do anything.

You turned your head and watched as he unbuckled his belt. Within seconds, his cock sprung free from its restraints and your breath hitched in your throat. He was thick and long, a prominent vein running along his side up to his tip, pink and already decorated by a bead of precum. Of course, Steve Rogers had a pretty cock. What wasn’t perfect about him?

“You’re so wet already, Bambi. So ready for my fat cock, aren’t you? You’ll suck me right in, I just know it.”

“Please! I wanna feel all of you.” Another whimper got swallowed by the mattress when you waited in anticipation for him to finally fuck you.

His one hand grabbed your ass and the other aligned his cock with your entrance. You could feel his head already breaching, a delicious stretch sending shocks through your body in hot and cold waves of pleasure.

He groaned lowly and it sent shivers down your spine. “Relax, baby girl. You’re so tight. You’ll be so stuffed with me.”

“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”

He worked himself forward with small rocking motions, each time reaching a little deeper into your core and when you thought he was finally all the way in, he pushed even further until your ass was pressed flush to his thighs.

You screamed into the covers and reached for something to grasp when he groaned behind you. “Gripping me like a vice, Bambi. Are you gonna be able to take it?” He shivered behind you and you could tell he was struggling to hold still until you answered him.

“I can take it. Your big cock feels so good inside me. Oh, god, please move.”

“Fuck.” Wet noises filled the room when he drew back almost all the way, just to slam back into you. In this position the curve of his cock stroked your walls perfectly, making it hard to hold back the building orgasm.

“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”

“Fucking call me Steve,” he roared and pushed your face further into the covers. “You gonna come? Gonna squeeze my cock with your pretty little pussy already, huh?”

You could only whimper in response, the steady stroke of his body clouded your mind until you felt like you were floating.

“I-“Another scream ripped through your speech when the pleasure exploded within you. Steve slowed his motions, seemingly unable to move with the way your muscles contracted around him. And when the pulsing pleasure lessened after what felt like minutes, he picked his pace back up again.

“That was so sexy. You gonna do that again for me? I’m so fucking close.”

His hand reached around you and began to massage your clit in tight little circles and your body lifted off the bed. Steve had pulled you up flush against his chest and watched his hand work on your clit over your shoulder.

“’S too much! Ah!” You were still pulsing around his cock with every circle he traced on your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver.

“You’re doing so good, Bambi. You can give me another. Milk my cock dry.” He kissed your neck and bit your skin. “So fucking beautiful, how’d I get so lucky?”

“Steve!” You felt another wave of pleasure approaching, just for his fingers to still on your clit, his hand now pressing into your stomach.

“I’m almost there, baby. Hold it a little longer.” His face fell into your neck and you could feel his cock twitch inside you while his hot breath licked down your shoulder. “Don’t you fucking cum until I say so.”

“I don’t know if I-“

“Yes, you can!” Steve pushed you until you fell onto all fours again and then guided your hips to meet his hard strokes. His movements became frantic and fast, making you lose your mind.

“I’m gonna fill you to the brim, Bambi. Make you drip with my cum for days. You’re mine.”

“Steve! Steve!” You couldn’t hold it any longer, it was too much. He was so big, and his movements so fast, there was no way you were lasting any longer.

“Wait. Almost there.”

“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuck.” With one last hard slam, Steve shot his hot seed in your pussy. Your walls clenched with every lewd sound he pushed through his heavy breaths. “Cumming so much for you, Bambi. All for you. Uhnggghh.” He rutted into you a couple more times and once the intense feeling faded into lazy pulses, he fell forward and pulled you into his chest.

Still buried deep within you, Steve pulled the covers over your bodies. Every little movement made you squirm and your pussy clench down again, drawing small grunts from the man behind you.

“You did so good.” His hand stroked over your hair and his face nuzzled into your shoulder. “Now, rest. You deserve it.”

And with that, you let your body fall into its well-needed sleep - warm, content, and without a care for the morning.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve woke up to the sound of his alarm. He smiled before he opened his eyes, his mind still reminiscing the night before. He felt warm and content at the thought of it. Your kiss was like nothing else.

He felt around his bed blindly after turning off the alarm only to be met by a cold mattress. Opening his eyes, he called out your name and sat up in bed. But when no answer sounded from his apartment, he got up and looked for you. After a few minutes of searching, he was sure you weren’t there. And it worried him. He had planned to order you breakfast. He wanted to talk about last night. He wanted to tell you how much it had meant to him.

A look at the clock on his wall made him frown. Maybe you’d gone home to change for work. He decided to wait and get to work a little later today. It would all resolve itself, Steve was sure.

But when seven rolled around, there was no sign of you. And even after another 25 minutes, there was no indication you’d show up soon. Steve really couldn’t push his time anymore. There was a lot of work waiting for him at the office. So he got up and grabbed his briefcase, only to be interrupted by his phone.

“Good morning, Sharon.”

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers. I’m just calling to let you know your maid just called in sick.”

“What? Until when?”

“She didn’t say. But she’ll call when she is better.”

“Do you know what she has?”

“I believe that’s private. Mr. Rogers.”

Steve just hummed absentmindedly. His brain already playing all the possibilities in his head.

“Would you be so kind so send me her number?” He asked almost hesitantly, but still demanding enough for Sharon to agree right away.

“Of course, one second.” And then his phone pinged with a message from his assistant.

“Thank you.” Sharon just hummed in response and then she hung up the phone, ever the busy assistant he knew her as.

Steve didn’t hesitate to call you right away. With every peep. His heart hammered faster in his chest. And when he was about to give up, a familiar rustling rang through his speaker.

“Hello?”

Steve took a second to breathe and then he said your name - steady but careful.

“Mr Rogers,” you sounded surprised, and Steve tried to suppress the sting in his heart at the sound of his last name. You had called him Steve just last night. Why’d you stop?

“Yes... I heard you’re sick. Do you need anything?” He cringed the second he said it. You obviously didn’t want anything from him given that you had fled from his apartment before he even woke up this morning.

“No, no. I’m good thank you.” There was an awkward tension in the static connecting the two of you. But Steve didn’t understand where it came from. Had you not enjoyed last night. Had he only imagined the affection you gifted him then?

“Well... I hope you are able to come back soon.”

You huffed into the phone. “Uh, yes. Okay.”

“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”

“I’ll see you.”

And then the line went dead. And Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you had sounded a lot colder than before...

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve had taken the next day off. His mind was too occupied to work, anyway. He had caught himself glimpsing at his video feed several times that day, even though he knew you weren’t going to show. He guessed, somehow that you would appear anyway. It didn’t happen of course.

So today, Steve had to learn to do nothing. That included not thinking of you as well. Because as much as the thought of you distracted him from work, not working wasn’t exactly the best move to get rid of his thoughts.

First, he had tried to stay in bed until 6. That was hard enough. Then, he worked out a bit, read an article, made a smoothie - okay he ordered one - and then he sat on his sofa watching as the clock above his fireplace ticked to 7 a.m.

It was ridiculous. If every hour would pass this slowly, he’d go insane.

His fingers taped on his thigh as he watched the seconds hand tick. He had to do something, anything.

The moment this thought passed his mind, he heard the elevator door ‘ding’ at his level. And before he could even turn around, your bag hit the ground with a loud thud.

Steve stood up straighter, adjusting a tie he was not wearing, but the motion had become a habit. He was excited you’d shown up - visibly well and healthy that was.

You stared at him for a solid minute and neither of you said a word. Your stare was unintelligible to Steve. He had to admit, that he didn’t know you well enough to read into your silent conversation yet, but he wanted to - he wanted to so badly.

His hands moved to clasp in front of him and then he cleared his throat, but as he was about to say something, you moved past him, straight to the supply closet, and then disappeared into his guest bedroom.

He followed you before he could tell his feet to stop, halting in the doorway of the room and watching as you dusted off the tall shelves above the sideboard.

“What are you doing?” His voice was higher than he anticipated.

“I’m working,” you answered bluntly, moving to the next object to dust off.

“Why?” Steve had promised to provide for you just the other night. And, yes, while he might have been hazy from the incredible pleasure you had created, he had meant every word.

You suddenly turned to him with an angry stare. “I’m working because, unlike other people, I can’t just do whatever I want and not deal with the consequences,” you spat and then turned around again. The dusting motion turned a little more aggressive and Steve felt a cold shiver run down his back. Feisty.

Though, Steve couldn’t quite place your anger. Had he said something to offend you? How did the other night play into any consequences and why the hell were you working still? You’d said it yourself, you wanted to be his. And that was all he ever wanted. It just didn’t make sense.

Steve didn’t move. He just stood there like an idiot and watched you work your anger away on the poor dusty decorations of his home. You obviously didn't want to talk to him and he had no idea what to say to you. So he just watched... and watched until at least ten minutes had gone by.

You were at a completely different corner of the room by now, trying to grab a book to dust off, but couldn’t quite reach. Steve had been standing in the doorway this whole time so he just assumed he was blocking your way to a ladder. But he took it as an opportunity instead.

In three Long strides, he had walked up to you, reached for the item you stretched toward, and handed it to you. And for a second there, he could see those doe eyes return to your face, staring up at him.

Maybe he had misread the situation after all because your gaze drew him in again. He slowly closed his eyes before he could reach your lips, excitement rising in his veins when he thought back to the feeling of your lips on his–

*smack*

His eyes shot open when your hand collided with his cheek, a fire flickering in your eyes that made him take a step back, holding his heated skin.

“You don’t have to mock me, okay?! I know it’s embarrassing and it’s stupid what we did, so please don’t make this more difficult.”

“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt.

It was stupid what we did. Your words echoed in his mind until your voice penetrated the mantra.

“Just leave me alone. Don’t you have work to do?”

He shook his head with an aching heart. You really had no idea. You thought he had used you, made you a bed bunny like Tony or Bucky would - he’d never do that. “I called in sick. I was so... forget it.”

You resumed cleaning and Steve just stood in your way watching. His chest stung with every second he spent with his eyes glued to you, knowing what you thought of him. He couldn’t stand it. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable, much less convey he’d only use you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You ignored him, but he could see your movements stagger for a second. “Do you really regret what we did?”

Then you paused, your eyes trained to the surface in front of you. When you finally looked at him, Steve could see the tears shimmering in them.

“No,” you whispered softly, Steve had almost missed it had his heart not skipped a beat.

He instinctively stepped closer to you again, though cautious not to scare you away. He’d come this far and didn’t want to mess it all up again. “Then why are you ignoring me?”

“I'm not ignoring you.” It shot out of you like a bullet. You sighed, took another breath, and set the duster down. “We don’t know each other. We live in completely different worlds. There is not one scenario in which we could exist together as anything more than... this. I know that now.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you and I’m just the maid.” You gestured to Steve and then yourself and Steve hated the way you degraded yourself just because he had a couple dollars more in his bank account. It wasn’t right.

He shook his head, his hand reaching out to you but dropping just before he could actually touch you, curbing into a soft fist instead. “And what if I told you that you are much more to me than that?” Now he finally dared to lay his hand on your cheek, tilting your head so he could come closer to you and still stare into your eyes. “I like you. And the night– ever since you came into my life, my days seem just so much less dull.”

He smiled with shiny eyes, afraid your silence would last forever. “Please say something, Bambi.”

“You like me?” There was awe and disbelief in your voice and Steve wanted to kiss it away until every last doubt was erased from your mind. Whoever had made you this insecure about affection would eat his fist.

Steve bit his lip to hide the chuckle threatening to spill. “I do.”

He slowly got lost in your eyes again. Those beautiful innocent orbs looked at him like he was a different type of special. He loved it so much.

His gaze dropped to your lips, slightly parted and full, and then back up. And before he could lose himself in them again, your hands latched onto his collar and pulled him down toward you.

The kiss was all tongue and teeth, need and desperation melting into sighs and tingles - he could feed off of it forever. His hands roamed your body and pressed you deeper into his. Your arms reached around his neck as your noses bumped against each other in eager anticipation.

Nothing ever felt this right. Steve couldn’t possibly believe you’d doubted the chemistry for a second. Not when it felt like that. But he wouldn’t need to think back on it anymore now... now that he finally had you.

I couldn't decide which GIF to use, so here are some extras!

If you’ve read this far, I would be so happy to receive a comment or reblog. It helps writers reach more people in the community and also improve themselves. So, if you have the time, please consider giving me some feedback :) until next time ~Meg 💞

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yuutryingtowrite · 21 days

Text

Yandere!Maid who looks at the castle in front of him, then the flier in his hands, then the castle again. Unless there was a typo in the address, the job interview should be here. He hesitantly uses the bat shaped door knocker and waits...This place looks so creepy and ominous, was this a prank ? Was it to scare him? Seriously? Sigh…He has had enough of being treated like a fool. As he continues his descent into frustration, bitterness and self-pity, he doesn’t hear the door opening. Nor does he see the butler standing at the entrance until he hears a: “Sorry for the wait, my kind sir. Are you here for the housekeeper position?”.

Yandere!Maid who thinks the butler is telling him a load of bullshit. According to him, the owner of this place is a vampire in search of additional staff members. He resists the urge to scoff. Whatever, if the “mistress” wants to take part in some weird role-play, then so be it as long as he would get paid. The same guy tells him to “please take a seat” in the living room and that “mistress will come and attend to you in a moment”. Soon after his departure, the air shifts. Black particles float around until it materializes something, or rather someone. The poor boy shock and confusion quickly turn into enchantment. Fuck, you are totally his type. This is bad, he can feel his face burning. “Shall we go to my office?”, you ask with a smile.

Yandere!Maid who hates you. Who hates the fact that your personality matches your looks. Who hates how much control you have over him. The other day, your...pet sneezed on him, so he needed another uniform. “It seems that I only have a female one left ”, you told him. “There is no way in hell I am wearing that”, he sneered. “But wouldn’t you look cute in it? Besides, it is either that or cleaning with your normal clothes on until your new uniform arrives here-” “Alright, shut up, just give me that”, he abruptly took the offending dress from your hands and went to change. Since that conversation, his work attire has fully transitioned to said maid outfit. Maybe he becomes a bit too proud of himself whenever he catches you staring at him. And maybe, just maybe he wants to give you a nice view by bending down and taking his time “to clean the table” whenever he knows you are behind him. He will never admit that though.

Yandere!Maid who, one day, demands asks you about your eating habits. As soon as you answer, something regarding animal blood, he turns oddly quiet. You are about to ask what is wrong, but then he surprises you by climbing into your lap. You watch him get comfortable and, with trembling hands, undo the first buttons of his dress. The cherry on top is him pulling on its collar a bit to show a silver of his chest. He now avoids eye contact as he waits for you to take the lead…You are still just looking at him, so, with a blush becoming darker, he snaps at you: “A-are you stupid or something ? Do you want me to spell it out-” “I am just enjoying the view”, you respond with a teasing smile. Before he can sputter more insults, you grip his chin and tilt his head to the side, exposing his neck to your hungry gaze. “But if you insist…Thank you for the meal <3”

Yandere!Maid who has his face buried deep in his pillow while he tries to calm his flustered self down. After you finished drinking from him, he hurriedly got up and scurried to his room without so much as a word. The more he recalls the embarrassing noises he made in front of you, the more mortified he becomes. It was not his fault, it just felt really good and you even pulled him closer and tugged on his hair and-He whines and squirms in his bed as he feels his body turning hot again like that time. The action causes him to feel a sharp sting on his neck. He freezes. That is right. You marked him. You marked him. You marked him.

...

Don't drink from anyone else, ok?

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yanderenightmare · 3 months

Text

TW: nsfw, implied noncon/dubcon, abuse of power, misogyny, age difference, humiliation, degradation

fem reader

Thinking about the old-fashioned boss in his mid-fifties and the tight new intern.

It started out small, backrubs and head massages—he made you one of his personal assistants on day one. You thought he was just eccentric—you didn’t think the entire office was a complete madhouse. But here you are, only a week later. Dressed in nothing but black heels and a bowtie, sucking his fat cock as he enjoyed the view of the city with a neat glass of scotch between his fingers. His other large hand, heavy with big clunky rings and a massive watch, stays on your head even as his other employees come in to discuss contracts and signatures.

He doesn’t give you the benefit of pretending you aren’t there, speaking freely about you in the most degrading fashion. “She’s a keeper, this one—submissive throat that knows to shut up when the men are talking. A perfect addition to the female staff.”

In board meetings, you’re on his lap with a ballgag. He squeezes your tit and pinches your nipple like it’s a stress ball—cock deep inside your tight cunt, keeping warm and wet. All the other members each bring their own pets—some even walk them in on all fours, using their silk ties as a leash. Sometimes, they switch with each other, but your boss sticks with you. And when they’re all gone, he sprawls you on the glass table and fucks you into a sweaty mess on top of all the important documents.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Enji, Aizawa, AFO ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Nanami, Toji, Kenjaku, Higuruma ♡ AOT – Levi, Erwin, Zeke

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

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kquil · 11 months

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REMUS LUPIN | 23:59 ⏤"SHE'S MY WIFE"

SUM. : you bring remus his lunch with your daughter and come face to face with a new, very rude, intern

TAGS. : fluff ; modern au ; muggle au ; ceo remus ; wife reader ; reader is sooooo wifey ; remus is husband material too ; remus is also ceo material! ; daughter oc (emily) ; remus is daddy ; reader is mommy ; rude intern ; dorcas makes an appearance ; we love her

LENGTH : 1.1k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

“Oh!” you smile at the new, young face you see at the front desk, having walked into the company building not too long ago with Remus’ lunch tucked away in your bag as your daughter marches forward in front of you, “Good noon,” Remus had briefly spoken about a new intern shadowing at the front desk earlier in the morning when you had breakfast together; you suppose that this was her. She looked very much like the part, professionally dressed and neat as a pin, though her level of make up was questionable.

Despite your cheerful and friendly greeting, you were met with silence, suspecting eyes and straight, thin lips that were ever so slightly frowning. It was such an unfamiliar reaction that you were stunned into silence yourself, the tension and lack of a greeting back causing awkwardness to fill the air. You were so used to being received kindly by the usual staff that you didn’t know what to do with yourself when the new worker didn’t reply in kind.

“Well?” she almost snaps, rather rudely. Her eyes weren’t on you but rather on your daughter, Emily, who stared warily up at her and clutched at your long, flowy skirt with unease.

“I-I’m sorry?” you stutter, further stunned by her discourtesy, your hand moving to cup the back of your daughter’s head as she presses her frightened face into your thigh.

“Do you have an appointment or not?” she finally snaps and your brows furrow. The clock displayed on the wall behind her indicated that you were right on time for a shift change between the secretaries, with the former assistants going on lunch break and their succeeding secretaries arriving soon to take their place. Usually the exchange was seamless; you wonder what the issue was today.

“Oh, no, I’m just here to—” she cuts you off with an exaggerated sigh and a roll of her eyes.

“If you don’t have an appointment then why are you here?” her rude tone continues and she keeps cutting you off, “Do you want me to pass on a message? Want me to refer you to an office? Would you like me to make you an appointment? Tell me already, I don’t have all day,” you had been trying to inform her with every question she posed about your visit but she cut you off each time. Considering that she was the new intern, you were willing to excuse her behaviour due to her lack of experience but her candid judgement of you and your daughter made your blood boil.

“You are very rude for someone who’s supposed to be the first representative people interact with when they enter—”

She narrows her eyes dangerously and leans over the counter somewhat, but you stand your ground, “That’s none of your business, my job is none of your business, just answer the question,” at this point, your dear Emily was tugging at your skirt and whining softly for comfort, to which you immediately swooped down to lift her into your warm arms.

“It is my business,” because this is my hardworking husband’s company, you wanted to say but were never one to make such entitled comments.

“How—?!” you cut her off as she had done to you multiple times.

“—and it would do you some good to sort out the poor attitude before it lands you in trouble,”

Just as she opens her mouth to speak again, a familiar face comes into view and moves behind the desk also — it was one of the secretaries who was familiar with your regular visits to the company, Dorcas.

“Good afternoon! Sorry for my tardiness,” Dorcas greets with a cheerful smile as the intern scoffs and rolls her eyes, “Here for the usual visit, I see,” you smile, shoulders easing with relief as Dorcas winks at you before cooing at Emily, “and how are we today, little Emily?” You and Dorcas focus your attention on your daughter, who smiles happily and looks as relieved as you, especially at the sight of Dorcas, a familiar, friendly face. The two converse for a moment, Dorcas asking her how school was and if she’s been well-behaved, whereby Emily responds articulately, demonstrating her smartness and politeness with a few, soft-spoken words. You were proud of her, she’s just like her father, intelligent, sweet and timid but also with a passionate flame burning deep inside that was just waiting to come to fruition.

“This is a regular thing?” the intern speaks up with the same audacious tone of voice, effectively cutting the sweet moment between your daughter and Dorcas short.

“Of course it is,” Dorcas narrows her eyes at the intern, a silent warning for her use of tone, especially in front of Emily.

“Daddy!” Emily suddenly squeals in your arms and all three of you turn to see your smiling husband walking away from the closing elevator. At this, you place Emily down and she goes racing towards her father.

“There’s my little girl!” Remus laughs and takes a knee with his arms spread wide open, ready to catch your daughter in his embrace. Using the momentum from her eager sprint to be in his arms, Remus swings her around playfully before tucking her into his side and on his hip, where he kisses her forehead after swiping away her stray baby hairs with his fingers. Watching the touching exchange, you smile warmly and hug Remus around the waist when he finally makes his way over to pull you close and kiss your temple, “hello, dove,” his voice is like sweet honey and it pulls you even closer to him.

“Good afternoon, darling,” you greet in return, your smile bright and devoid of any bitterness towards the rude intern.

“I thought you two hadn’t arrived yet,” he nods towards the clock behind the front desk, it was well past your usual, punctual visits as you were never one to be tardy, “you’re never this late for lunch, did something happen?” his brows furrowed with worry and you smile at his concern but find it hard to form the words. Instead, you simply refocus your attention and meet the eyes of the new intern behind the desk once more. She had become considerably pale, looking white as a ghost.

“Sh-she’s—” the intern stutters as Remus’ eyes harden on her.

“She’s my wife,” his voice didn’t waver at the declaration and he pulls you closer to emphasise your standing, “is there a problem?” there was considerable threat behind his words and the intern was left speechless but also fearful, “because there better not be,” you wanted to speak up throughout the entire exchange but there was nothing for you to say, if she didn’t get her attitude sorted after this confrontation, you wouldn’t dare think about where her life’s trajectory will point to.

“Let’s go have lunch, darling,” you finally speak up, which, thankfully, Remus relents to.

A few days after the exchange, the intern supposedly dropped out of the internship program. Not by her volition however.

A/N : i haven't written for remus in a while so excuse the rustiness. hopefully, you darlings can agree with me on the fact that remus x ceo au is a great combination, right?

NAVI.

TAGLIST : @aastonishment ; @until-i-found-you ; @never-fair ; @celestcies ; @inlovewithremusjohnlupin ; @calums-betch ; @futurecorps3 ; @simpingforthe80s ; @yrluvjane ; @chaosofmanyfandoms ; @storyofaromance ; @loving-and-dreaming ; @somewereinthegalaxi ; @bobs-fav-cat ; @cassandra-nerezza-black ; @stray-bi-kids ; @ttkttt ; @notasadgirlipromise ; @rosalyn-s

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fic #remus x reader #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fanfiction #remus john lupin #☽ : timestamp

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buckyalpine · 6 months

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A thot. A smutty, slutty, scandalous thot. With Bodyguard Bucky. Possessiveness, size kink, breeding kink, all of it. Now, imagine being the sweet, quiet, beautiful wife of the esteemed John Walker, CEO of Walker Industries. You sit at his table, clapping with the proudest smile on your face as he accepts an award for another successful year. Your husband dedicates all his success to the beautiful woman who has supported him through all the ups and downs, who has been by his side through it all.

You.

You blow a shy kiss in his direction when the cameras pan over to you, giggling at the wink he throws back. The press will have a field day about the most envied couple in the world, so perfect and so in love. As the night nears its end, your husband gives your hand a squeeze from where he sits beside you, leaning over to whisper in your ear.

"Going to have to stop by office darling, one our major investors just called" He kisses your cheek affectionately with an apologetic look on his face but the understanding smile you give him back lets him know you're not the least bit upset.

"Of course, I'll miss you" You reply and take a sip from your champagne, appearing oblivious to the glances that are thrown your way by the others as your husband leaves without you, his secretary following closely behind him.

All the hushed whispers.

Poor woman has no idea.

All the secrets.

Just a pretty thing on his arm, probably doesn't have a clue.

Doesn't have a clue her husband has been carrying on with his secretary late into the nights and all through out his business trips.

Such a shame she's none the wiser. Has no one thought to tell her? Pity she's genuinely so in love with him.

Truly such a shame, wasn't it?

Such a shame your husband had no idea your bodyguard fucked your brains out till he busted balls deep in side you every chance he got.

Bucky doesn't say a word as he leads you out of the venue, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist, helping you into the car. As soon as he slipped in beside you, you rolled up the dark partition before slinking onto his lap and slamming your lips against his. Bucky groaned against your lips, his hands finding their way home to grope and spank your ass, guiding your hips to grind down on his erection straining against his black pants.

"Need me to take care of you, huh princess" He murmured against the shell of your ear before going back to lacing his tongue with yours causing a shiver to run down your spine, nipping his pouty lip and grasping onto the lapels of his blazer.

No time was wasted as you straightened yourself out upon entering your home, quickly dismissing the staff to leave for the night, giving you free reign to do as you pleased.

As soon as the house was empty, he tossed you over his shoulder, striding up the stairs and straight to the master bedroom. He dropped you onto your large bed, tearing your dress in half down the middle, letting the material fall away at your feet.

"Fuck this" He grabbed your left hand, tugging off the wedding band you wore for appearances and tossing it carelessly across the room. He took off the silver tog tags that hung around his neck, slipping them over your head and letting his name sit perfectly between your breasts, the sight making him feral.

"Didn't even bother with panties" Bucky licked his lips at the sight of your bare naked body, not even a tiny sliver of lace covering your modesty. "You knew, didn't you"

"Always" You purred, knowing damn well your husband would fuck off to bang his desperate little secretary, unknowingly also giving you the night of your life you so badly craved. You crawled to the middle of the bed, your legs spread while Bucky tossed his blazer and shirt off, his pants and brief's quick to follow.

"Lookit you baby, so naughty, fuckin' your bodyguard in the same bed your husband sleeps in"

You let out a needy whimper while he stayed at the edge of the bed enjoying the view, his hand coming down to wrap around his cock giving himself long, languid strokes.

"James, please" you pleaded with a pout but Bucky just smirked in return, hissing as he swiped his thumb over the wet slit of his cockhead.

"I know prinţesă, I know, let me look at how pretty you are" He cooed, joining you on the bed and slotting himself between your legs. You wrapped your arms around his thick shoulders while he let his cock slip between your folds, rolling his hips to hump against your bare cunt. "You're soaked angel, been waiting for this, hm?"

"Wanted you so bad, need you James" Your hips bucked up, chasing the feeling of his fat cock rubbing against you, his swollen cockhead bumping your clit every time he pushed forward. "No teasing, please, missed your cock so bad"

"Shhh, you have me baby, m'right here, yeah?" Bucky kissed away the tears that started to slip down your cheeks, your arousal smearing all over his balls. He guided his dripping cockhead to press against your clit making you cry out, circling his most sensitive parts against yours, "M'right here, feel that angel? Y'feel how wet m'getting for you baby, right on that pretty clit, such a good girl letting me jus' leak all over her slutty little pussy, fuck theres so much precum 'nd m'not even inside you yet"

You'd never felt more empty, clawing at Bucky's back, your pussy fluttering and clenching over the way his silky tip kept tracing circles around your throbbing, sensitive bud. He flicked his cockhead across your clit a few times before lining himself up with your entrance.

"S'fuckin' tight, sh-shit" Bucky moaned as he started to press into you, sliding all the way home in one swift motion. He stayed still, holding your body close to his while your legs wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, begging for him to do something.

"Move Jamie, please, c'mon, fuck me damn it, I need you, I need- FUCCKK" Your words slurred into sobs as Bucky started to fuck you hard and fast, already too needy with having to get a night alone with you.

"Needed me huh angel? fuckin' needed you too, s'all I think about pretty girl, just me n' you, how-oh fuck- how are you so tight around my cock" Bucky rambled, bringing his knee up to get a deeper angle, his hands coming to lace with yours, pinning you against the mattress.

"Missed-fuck-missed you Jamie" You whimpered, your pussy squeezing and sucking his cock back in,

"My baby loves her fat cock, I know, know you're so empty when I can't fill you up sweet girl, you love your bodyguard's big dick don't you" The taunt in his voice only got you off more, your eyes rolling back as he continued to rail you. "You're pussy's choking me so tight, don't think I can hold back tonight princess, don't think I'll be able to pull out"

"Don't" you whispered and something in the air switched, the highly charged sexual tension replaced with something more desperate and needy as you clung onto each other reading closer and closer to your highs.

"Mmph, y'can't say that, gonna wet your bed with my cum prinţesă, you'd like that wouldn't you, my cum covering all your sheets, your pillows smelling like me, letting me fill you up till your belly gets all swollen"

Bucky's voice melted into a whine, his dominance faltering into something needier, quickly shoving the thought away because he knew there was no chance. It would never happen. You'd never be so careless for such an accident to happen.

"Want it Jamie, want it all with you, please, don't-fuck, oh God-don't pull out" Your glassy eyes wet with tears showed no signs of deception but it couldn't be. He searched your gaze and you could see the innocence in his face wishing this were real, the way his body moved with yours, wishing it was just you and him. "St-stopped taking birth control"

Bucky sobbed at your confession, fucking you harder, making the headboard slam against the wall with his powerful thrusts. His hips snapped , shoving his cock all the way into your pussy, his balls growing heavier at the thought of leaving a piece of him inside of your fertile womb.

"you're fuckin' mine, you hear me? Mine. Mine. Mine. Say it!" Bucky grunted, biting your neck making you scream, your back arching off the bed, pressing your chest further against his.

"M'yours, all yours, just' yours" You slurred out, eyes rolling back and your moans turning nearly silent as immense pleasure crept down your spine.

"Gonna put my baby in you, make you mine forever, fuck your husband, your gonna be the mother of my child, just you prinţesă, all you, ALL YOU" Bucky roared against your neck as he shot ropes of his cum deep in your pussy, giving you harsh, sloppy thrusts as he grew more sensitive. He wrapped his arms around your body with his face tucked into your neck, shuddering at the feeling of your soft hands caressing his back, running your fingers through his soft cropped locks.

You hardly noticed him carrying you over to his room down the hall, tucking you into the warm sheets, resting your head on his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I love you" You murmured, smiling at the empty space on your ring finger and feeling the comforting coolness of his chain around your neck.

One day.

"I love you more, prinţesă" Bucky murmured, meaning every word as you both drifted off to sleep.

You couldn't wait to leave your husband.

a/n: This was meant to be way sluttier and less in the feels so might need to revisit this with a different version

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harryspet · 1 month

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well kept [2] r. cameron

[warnings] dark!ceo!rafe x reader, size difference, billionaire!older!rafe, shy!reader with low self-esteem, reader is a person who stutters, boss x personal assistant, heavy abuse of power, emotional/mental manipulation, NONCON, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think!

word count: 4.5k

In which you officially enter into a world of high stakes and intense demands.

well kept masterlist

Your fingers traced the smooth edge of the new work bag that sat on your desk, a pristine luxury item whose brand you didn’t immediately recognize. It was medium-sized, big enough to fit your brand-new laptop, and an off-white color with pebble-textured leather.

“Wow, you clean up nice,” came a voice from behind you. You turned to find Eleanor approaching, coffee in hand.

Instinctively, you pulled down your skirt as she looked you over. You were effortlessly polished, for sure. You usually only get your hair professionally done for special occasions, opting for simple protective styles you could do yourself. However, you had to admit you felt pretty with your hair in a neat, braided rose that reached down to your lower back.

The clothes only amplified this unfamiliar sensation. After trying on eight outfits the previous night, you had settled on a cherry-red cropped blazer and a matching pleated skirt. You’d chosen the shortest heels Rafe had sent—a pair of white kitten heels adorned with gold bows. Your makeup, subtly applied, complemented the overall look.

Eleanor set her things down, straightened, and placed a hand on her slender hips. “Take your bag,” she said. “I’ll show you where Rafe expects you to work.”

“I thought that was my desk.”

“He’ll tell you where you need to be and when you need to be there.”

Her answer was simple enough.

You entered the luxurious space that Rafe called an office once again. Even when he wasn’t in the room, you were intimidated by it, “He had this brought in for you,” Facing the wall on the side of the room that held Rafe’s desk, in the corner, was a simple mahogany desk. The miniature version of Rafe’s desk. A cushioned stool was placed underneath and on top were a notebook, a cup of pens, and a small lamp, “This is where he’ll expect you most mornings. You’re to review his calendar before he arrives, memorize it, and you’ll brief him on the day when he walks in.”

“I’m ssss-supposed to be in here with him …all day? What if I, you know, need you?”

“I’m right down the hallway, or you can email me.”

Eleanor spent the next thirty minutes showing you their emailing system and how to access Rafe’s calendar. She even shared a large cheat sheet she’d made with all of Rafe’s preferred restaurants, coffee shops, hotels, and the names and numbers of his home staff.

When she left you alone, you looked around the room. The view of the office from your corner was daunting. However, your heart had been beating too fast ever since you met Rafe.

You turned your attention back to the calendar system. It was sleek and well-organized, and luckily, it was straightforward enough to navigate. You took note of his key meetings for the day and repeated them over in your head. You wrote down some notes in case your mind drew a blank. It was your first day, and he’d give you some grace, right?

You needed to be able to anticipate these needs, but all you knew about Rafe Cameron was that he was complex and demanding.

The sound of footsteps in the corridor drew your attention, and hurriedly, you glanced down at your note sheet again. Standing from your seat, you smoothed out your skirt, and with your notes in hand, you folded your palms in front of you.

Unconsciously, as he pushed open the doors, you sucked air into your lungs. You held your breath until his eyes met with yours. In comparison to when you first met him, he was dressed down. He wore a short-sleeve black polo black dress pants, black leather penny loafers on his feet and a briefcase in hand. His face was stoic as he looked you over and let the doors close behind him. As big as they were, they were practically silent went they closed, adding to the ominous feeling in the room.

You smiled, or tried to, “Good morning, Mr. Cameron, I’m–”

“I want you right here,” He interrupted, pointing down at the floor a foot before him. You stepped forward, hoping you wouldn’t trip like you had while practicing walking in them. Despite how he towered over you when you were this close, you made yourself comfortable there, “You’ll be right there every day when I walk in. Try again.”

“Good morning, Mr. Cameron-”

“I prefer Sir.”

Try again. Unfortunately, you were pretty used to being interrupted and forced to stop and start your sentences. “Good morning, Sir.” You were smiling as much as you could, but your throat hurt like your body wanted to cry. “Today, you’ll sss-start with three sss-separate online conferences with potential investors: Mr. Daniel, Mrs. Hunt, and Mr. Rivera. After lunch, you’ll have your weekly group meetings with department heads. You’ll start with Finance at one o’clock, Legal at two, and Design and Architecture at three. Your meeting with Property Management at four o’clock was canceled but rescheduled for Wednesday. For the rest of the day, you will be free to catch up with emails and ssss-submit the …. sss-ssss-strategic plan report you’ve been working on.”

He nodded once throughout your briefing, his face remaining impassive. You thought he might cringe at your mistakes, but he didn’t. You couldn’t help but feel like a strange choice for this job. Why would someone like him want to listen to you?

“Good,” he confirmed, and you were relieved only for a moment. You were okay until he started to look you over, “Turn around.”

You weren’t sure why you looked in his eyes to see if he was being serious. Of course, he was being serious. Awkwardly, you face away from him until he adds, “In a circle, please.”

You felt your cheeks heat up from embarrassment before you faced him again.

“I have a question,” You said.

“Yeah?”

“About the clothes. I …I didn’t know if it w-would be okay to return ssss-ssss-some of them. I just, there’s sss-so many.”

“And?” Rafe pressed, his brow furrowed.

“I-I don’t have that much room for them.”

“Hmm,” He thought briefly, “How’s this? You take a picture of yourself in each outfit and then email them to me, and I’ll decide which ones I want you to wear. But everything red can stay. I like the red.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he brushed past you and returned to his desk. Unsure whether you were supposed to move or stay put, you waited in place.

“I’ll take a coffee. Black. Thanks.”

Eager to escape the room and not feel the weight of his gaze, you hurried out of the doors. Panicked, you approached Eleanor’s desk, waving your hands to get her attention. She was on the phone, but you mouthed “Coffee.” Acting as your life vest, she pointed you toward one of the many doors that lined the wall across from the reception area.

Inside, you expected to find a normal breakroom, but the room’s decoration reminded you more of a lounge. Black coffee should be easy enough, but your hands shook slightly as you worked the modern, sleek coffee maker. After you prepared the coffee, you took a breath, and made your way back to his office. You kept yourself as composed as possible, and he glanced up at you briefly as you entered. You set it carefully on the coaster near his computer.

He didn’t directly look at you or the coffee; you took that as your sign to retreat to your desk.

You sat quietly as he attended all three of his virtual meetings. Inevitably, you started to listen. Sometimes, you’d tune in, wanting to learn something, but you gave up a few times after realizing how complex things were.

When he finished all his meetings, he spoke up, “What are the arrangements for lunch?”

“Lunch …” You echoed, thinking about the calendar you recognize, “Is there sss-something sss-specific you’re in the mood for, sir?”

“On Mondays, I have lunch with my COO and CFO. We have standing reservations at several restaurants. You’ll need to pick one, call, and make sure everyone knows the plans.”

“Okay,” You nodded, “Yes, sir.”

Was that on the cheat sheet? Had you missed that? After scrolling a few times, you will find the list of restaurants and senior team members.

You called The Prime, an upscale steakhouse, for Rafe and his senior team, ensuring every detail was perfectly arranged. When it was time to leave, you stood to bid Rafe goodbye, only to be told you were expected to join him. Quickly gathering your things, you followed him down the elevator to the parking garage. Eleanor gave you an encouraging thumbs up and smile as you passed her.

You must’ve looked frightened.

Rafe’s choice of vehicle, a massive black truck with gleaming rims and immaculate leather seat, wasn’t a surprise, but his courteous gesture was. He opened the door for you and gently placed a hand on your hip to steady you as you navigated the high step into the truck.

“Th-Thank you,” You spoke, your voice small before he closed the door.

As you sat during the ride, you felt your thighs were too exposed. You crossed your legs, trying to alleviate that feeling, but it proved useless, “You’ll get used to it,” Rafe’s voice snapped you out of being consumed by your thoughts. You hadn’t realized he was even paying attention to you.

Hesitantly, your eyes roamed over him. His shirt's short sleeves did little to conceal the strength in his arms and the defined lines of his chest.

“You have a boyfriend?” He asked, his tone relaxed. He wasn’t allowed to ask that, but you recalled the words he had used with you the week prior. Would you fuck him? He’d already crossed a line. You needed to get used to his brashness, “A girlfriend?” He continued.

“I-I-I,” Breathe in, slowly release, “I don’t.”

“Have you ever had one?”

The underlying implication of his words made you defensive, and you crossed your arms, “Have you, Sir?”

He let our a short laugh, “You just seem a little uptight,” Your lips parted and eyes widened.

“What-”

“I haven’t dated anyone seriously in a while. But you don’t need to date someone seriously to get what you need from them. I guess I’m just wondering if you have someone who . . . relieves your stress.”

“I really, really don’t want to answer that,” You spoke slowly.

“Relax, we’re just talking. Is this going to be a problem? I’m just trying to get to know my newest employee.”

It felt like a mind game. He wasn’t like anyone you’d ever met before—every word, every glance from him seemed designed to put you on edge, to make you second-guess yourself.

“No, sir,” You replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Are you a virgin, Y/N?” He asked suddenly as if he’d had some brilliant revelation.

“N-No,” You stuttered, lying through your teeth, “I’m not.”

He made a “hmm” sound as he glanced at you, “Of course you’re not. Forgive me; I shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

You understood quickly he wasn’t actually looking for your forgiveness. He was testing you, pushing boundaries just to see how you’d react.

When you arrived, Rafe pulled up to the valet stand, and a nicely dressed attendant quickly came over to open your door. You managed to step out with as much grace as you could muster, feeling the weight of Rafe’s eyes on you as you did. He was out of the truck in a heartbeat, striding around to join you, his hand again guiding you with that firm touch on your lower back. It was possessive, a silent declaration that you belonged to him, at least for the duration of this lunch.

The restaurant's setting was sophisticated and private, and you reached the table reserved for your group. The two of you were last to arrive, which meant all eyes fell on you as Rafe pulled out a chair for you right next to his seat. Two men were at the table, and you were taken aback by the fact that they were as young as Rafe.

“Guys, this is Y/N,” Rafe gestured to you, making himself comfortable, “Y/N, meet Topper Thornton and Kelce Adams.”

You managed to speak to them, though your words stumbled slightly. They eyed you the same way Rafe often did, like prey. You could almost imagine your name listed on the menu in front of them. But Rafe, with a swift shift in conversation, cut off their questions, his tone a clear warning. When you took a bit too long to decide on your meal, Rafe didn’t hesitate. He ordered for you the moment the waiter arrived, a subtle reminder of the control he held over every aspect of your life, even what you ate.

You couldn’t help but notice that Topper shared Eleanor’s last name. Were they married? Siblings? The thought lingered as you made a mental note to ask her later. Without another word, you pulled out your notebook, ready to take notes for the meeting.

Something in his last meeting had angered him. When he returned to his office, you watched him cross the room; your mouth wanted to form the words to ask, “What’s wrong?” but your lips pressed into a thin line instead.

As he settled in his desk, you pretended to be engrossed in your notes, hoping to avoid his attention. Ignoring the cold air in the room and the dark cloud hovering above him grew impossible. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and tapped at the surface of his desk. Was it anxiety he was feeling?

“Come here, Y/N?”

Startled, you dropped your pen on the floor, the sound making him fully turn his head towards you. Awkwardly, you picked it up and set it down on your desk. You fixed your skirt as you crossed the distance between his desk and yours to keep it from riding up.

“Yes, sss-sir?”

His eyes were dark as he spun his chair to face you, “Tell me,” He began, “What do you think you did wrong today?”

Your mind raced. Did you do something wrong that you hadn’t realized? There were plenty of mistakes, but it was only your first day and you’d been completely thrown out of your comfort zone.

“I’m not ssss-sssure, sss-sir,” Your voice was barely above a whisper, a grimace on your face as you tried to force out the words.

“Not sure?” He echoed.

“I should’ve know t-t-to …” You pushed through that “stuck” feeling, “Make your lunch reservations.”

“That’s one.”

“Uhm,” Your voice trailed off as your bottom lip shook. You felt like a child being scolded. Why did you keep freezing? Why did you let him speak to you that way? “I-I-I-I-I…”

“Does it hurt, you know, when it gets that bad?” Rafe leaned back in his chair, his arms folded against his chest, now looking at you with curiosity and frustration.

You shook your head because it was all you could manage.

“You can’t think of anything else, huh?”

“I’m sss-sss-sorry,” As a tear fell from your eye, he stood from his chair.

He shushed you, grabbing ahold of the top of your arms, “You know I could have chose anyone for this job?”

You nodded.

“But I chose you,” You nodded again, “I do love to see you apologize, sweetheart, but you have to know what you’re apologizing for.”

“I’m sss-sssory,” You couldn’t help the apology that tumbled out again, “Fff-for not knowing.”

“There you go, yeah, that’s better,” He pulled you closer, and you felt his hand brush the strands of your hair over your shoulder, keeping it from your face, “I told you this would be a mutually beneficial relationship. You need money, someone to care take care of you… I need ... I need you. When you’re with me, you’re mine to do with as I please. Do you understand?”

You nodded, feeling like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. He dominated the space, his presence suffocating, and the fear of displeasing him made your breath catch in your throat. The boundaries between you blurred even further, leaving you more trapped than ever.

“Good girl,” one of his hands wrapped around the side of your neck. His gaze pierced into yours, his mind racing behind them, and he sighed as he mentally concluded, “I can’t punish you just yet.”

“Punish?” You asked in a whisper, his face moving in closer.

“You gotta learn somehow, right?”

Your eyes darted from his eyes to his lips, panicked. Nothing could have prepared you for him smashing his lips against yours. One hand was on your neck, and the other wrapped behind you, pulling you into him. Even as his kiss overwhelmed you, your mind couldn’t let go of the word he had just used—punish.

“I have to fuck you. I have to,” He growled between kisses.

Your hands pushed at his chest, but it was like trying to move a brick wall, “Please, Rafe,” You tried to say. Part of you thought using his real name would snap him from his trance, but he groaned into your mouth.

You’d never been kissed like this; no one had ever explored you with their tongue, and part of your mind seemed to rejoice. The other part, the rational one, told you to escape. You started to use your strength to pull from him as you stepped backward, but that only made him grip you harder.

You yelped, and when Rafe opened his eyes again, he smiled. Whatever weighed heavy on his mind before had clearly been relieved by the game he was trying to play. You stumbled back when he let you go, almost falling on your behind, “Go on,” He said with a smirk, “Just makes it more fun for me.”

Of all the games, you liked this one the least. You turned to flee, but before you could reach the door, he lifted you off the ground. You screamed, and the next thing you knew, you were being thrown onto the couch. Rafe pinned you down easily, his weight crushing you as he reached for your legs. You shut your thighs tightly, and his glare felt like a knife in your side.

“Do not!” He exploded, and you whimpered, “Hey, hey, sweetheart, I don’t want you to ever close your legs to me.”

“Rafe, please … please d-don’t,” Someone would hear. Eleanor would hear, wouldn’t she? She’d stop him before he went too far.

“God, I’d beat your fucking ass if I didn’t need to be inside of you right now,” He growled, prying your legs apart and tearing away your underwear as soon as he could feel it. He wrapped one hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to keep you pinned down, while the other undid his belt. “You don’t make demands anymore, do you understand?”

“I’ve-I’ve nnn-never…”

Understanding flashed in his eyes.

“You're a fucking virgin?” You nodded, feeling a small piece of hope, “We can add lying to that list of things you’ve done wrong, huh?”

He seemed to pause which you felt grateful for. His belt was already undone, his hips sinking into yours, “No one’s ever tasted you?” You shook your head, “You’ve never had a cock in your mouth either?”

You looked away, embarrassed.

“Fuck,” He breathed out, “You’re gonna be all mine.”

“Please-” You tried again, but he silenced you, pressing his lips to yours again.

This time, he was more deliberate with his movements. His hands traveled higher, and he reached into your shirt to gently knead at your breasts. He moved slower like he was savoring the moment. At the same time, you felt even more tortured. Your body betrayed you, responding to his caresses as if they were safe, as if he were someone you trusted. He was making all the right moves and your mind felt even more confused then your body.

Fingers pinched gently at your nipples and your lips parted into a moan. He used it as an opportunity to explore your mouth further. Next, he moved down your jaw and then he nuzzled his face into your neck. There was a place on your collarbone he’d found, one that made you yelp in pleasure, a spot you didn’t know existed. That’s what he wanted. To conquer you.

You felt warm between your legs and a slickness as you tried to move your legs. Rafe was still taking his time. He’d lifted your shirt, pulled down your bra, and placed your left breast into his mouth. You cried out, your back arching in an automatic response. If he kept going, you knew you could finish just from this alone, and the thought filled you with a mix of shame and despair.

Slowly, methodically, he dismantled your guard.

When he sensed you were ready, that he’d successfully turned your body on, he pulled down his briefs. You couldn’t bring yourself to look down. It was gonna hurt, either way, why dwell on the size? “Tell me,” He kissed your jaw, leaning down to your ear, “Ask me to take your virginity.”

You tensed, “I-I d-don’t.”

“I can make it hurt, Y/N,” He warned, “I promise, you want me to be gentle”

He pressed his tip against your entrance, and you were already cringing, “Fucking ask me, or I’ll push it all inside.”

“Will you …t-take my virginity?”

“Please,” he corrected, a dark satisfaction in his tone.“Where’s your manners?”

“Please, take mmm-my vvvv-vvvv-virginity,” He slowly started to enter you, and you pressed your hands against his chest.

You started to breathe heavily, “T-T-Too mmm-mmm-much.”

He pushed in more, “That’s just half, sweetheart. Take a deeper breath for me."

You listened even though he was hurting you. Even now, you believed him to be better than you. Looking up at him, you slowly breathed in and out. As you controlled your breathing, he started to move in and out of you. He cursed and grunted into your ear, soon falling into a rhythm.

Pain began to blur with something else, something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

It was a foreign feeling, being full of him, reaching to parts of you that had never been discovered. The only thing that felt wrong to you was how it was happening. Is this how it always felt? So completely all consuming? You were warm everywhere, a pressure building at your core, and you struggled to make a sound other than a moan.

With each thrust you let out a yip, not realizing that you’d stopped pushing at his chest and started pawing at it. That only encouraged him further. He reached underneath you, lifting your left leg to your chest, as he grabbed a handful of your ass. He pried you open further in this position and he looked down at you …almost grateful. He was savoring you and every moment that he was touching you, infiltrating your body. You’d never had someone want you like this.

Before you were even really aware of it, the pressure inside of you had built to a crescendo, and you’d cried out against Rafe’s lips.

He smiled against yours, “Good girl, sweetheart,” Tears escaped your eyes again, this time because of how confused your hormones were. It felt like an uncontrolled explosion of emotion.

Now, the sensation actually felt like something you couldn’t physically handle, “Oh my god, o-oh my god, ” You spoke over and over as you went back to pushing at his chest.

“Stay,” he commanded, his body pressing you down further as he slowed his movements, his rhythm faltering. “I’m almost done,” he added, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You’re squeezing so tight.”

“Please,” you begged, your legs starting to shake. “Please, Rafe.”

Your words seemed to bring his climax. Your second orgasm came painfully, and you scrambled to free yourself from under his weight after he finished sinking into you. Your legs didn’t stop shaking, but at least you could catch your breath.

Your bare bottom hit the plush carpet of his seating area, listening as Rafe’s heavy breathing slowed. You fixed your bra and top before you started to search for your underwear. To your dismay, they were completely torn.

“I’ll get you some new ones, some nicer ones, yeah?”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure why. Feeling his gaze, you pushed your skirt down next. Looking down, you realize his remnants were sliding down your thighs. You just shut your legs tighter. A hand on your back made you glance up at him. His eyes were still dark, but there was more satisfaction than before.

“We’re done for today, but before you leave, uh, Eleanor needs to see you.”

He stood, and you looked away as he started to zip up his pants and fasten his belt again.

“Th-That’s it?”

“Until tomorrow,” He said, his tone returned to business, as if the last few minutes were merely part of the workday.

You thought he was returning to his desk, but Rafe walked to your desk and collected your purse and computer. As you stood, your body ached, and you realized how disheveled you must look. Was your makeup smudged across your face? Did he bruise the back of your thighs?

Rafe brought you your things, his hands finding your lower back, “Go home. Get some rest. And don’t forget about those pictures, yeah?”

You nodded although your mind was elsewhere. The next thing you knew, you were standing on the other side of the door, clutching your bag tightly to your chest. Your mind started to wonder what exactly had caused all this. Was he mad at you, or was that I an excuse to …ruin you.

When you made it to Eleanor’s desk she asked you, “How was your first day?”

You nodded, trying to shake your expression into a smile, “I-It was … o-okay.”

There was no way she could have missed it in your eyes or in your appearance, but she continued, “I just need you to sign that NDA before you go. It’s completely standard procedure. It just assures that everything you see and hear is confidential. Protects the business.”

You took the papers from her and you tried to keep from shaking, “I can explain anything you need-”

“That’s okay,” You shook your head, knowing you just wanted to go home and hug your stuffed frog, “Thank you.”

You flipped through it quickly and signed your name where she indicated, “There’s one more thing. Are you on birth control?”

You stared, knowing the implication of the words. Why didn’t she warn you before you agreed to this?

You shook your head.

“You’ll need a Plan B. Should I pick it up for you, or would you prefer to do it yourself?”

Of course, you’d had friends who’d bought it before but the idea of going by yourself right now made you want to be sick. And you couldn’t tell your friends … at least not yet, “Could you … g-get it?”

“Of course, I’ll have it tomorrow,” She nodded and offered you a polite smile, “Do you need any help getting to the parking deck?”

You shook your head quickly, “I www-walked, thank you.”

As you made your way to the elevator, you wondered how your day spiraled so entirely out of your control.

Please reblog WITH your thoughts on the chapter to be added to the taglist for the story :) Also pls feel free to send me anons about your predictions/what you'd like to see in the story!

#dark fic #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x black!reader #black!reader #rafe cameron smut #outer banks smut

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nanaarchy · 7 months

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The fact that TMA and TMagP are podcasts means that there are no official visuals. You can just Think things.

Boom. Everyone in the Archives now has a cowboy hat. The OIAR staff are all wearing McDonalds uniforms. Alice wears neon party sunglasses constantly. Needles is in a strawberry dress. Elias never actually stopped smoking weed, Jonah loves that shit and does it all the time and when his office gets all foggy Peter Lukas shows up and they make out. Jon read out the Hello, Jon statement in an ugly Christmas sweater that Martin got him for the office secret santa. Georgie and Jon had matching unicorn onesies in S3. Daisy wears MSCHF's Big Red Boots all the time.

#ananapost #meme #tmagp #the magnus protocol #the magnus pod #the magpod #the magpie #tma #the magnus archives #the magnus podcast #tma memes #silly goofy

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yandere-daydreams · 7 months

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file #1: the piss fic.

part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.

pairing: yandere!neuvillette x reader (genshin).

length: 3.2k.

warnings: fem!reader, non/con, omorashi, semi-public sex, humiliation/degradation play, unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, and unbalanced power dynamics.

The first sign that something was deeply, deeply wrong should’ve been the small glass bottle perched on the edge of your bedside table – filled to the brim with water so clear and so pristine that you might’ve thought it was empty, had you been a touch more optimistic.

You blinked once, then twice before summoning the strength to sit up, confusion and well-earned paranoia fighting to clear the fog over your exhaustion addled mind. Neuvillette stood at the foot of your bed, already dressed and currently focused on securing his cravat with a pointed intensity, or so he seemed to want you to believe. “What’s that?”

“Water. Fresh from the finest springs in Fontaine.” He allowed for a lengthy pause, then went on. “Admittedly, I thought you would’ve been more familiar with the concept.”

“I know what—” You started to defend yourself, then thought better of it – gritting your teeth as you snatched the bottle from the tabletop. It was odorless, unclouded, and as far as you could tell, containing a negligible amount of a foreign entity’s bodily fluids. All good signs, but Neuvillette wasn’t the caretaker type, and he knew you weren’t the type to want to be taken care of. You’d learned, over time, that any explicit display of his fondness for you was to be followed immediately by a demand that you reciprocate that fondness or, more realistically, grit your teeth and bear it while he poured further ‘affection’ onto you. “Is it… Is it supposed to be for me?”

“If you’d like for it to be.”

“And you didn’t put anything—”

“Please, love.” His voice was flat, but gentle. “I’d hate to find myself in the middle of an interrogation so early in the morning.”

You were more than tempted to refuse, but your dry throat and bleary mind provided ample motivation. With no small amount of reluctance, you brought the mouth of the bottle to your lips before pulling it away just as quickly, sending Neuvillette a half-hearted glare. “What are you getting out of this?”

At that, he folded. There was an airy sigh, a slight shake to his head, a notable pause before his answer – less hesitant and more measured, tempered. “As long as you’re under this roof rather than that of the Fortress of Meropide, you’re within my guard. That means your health and well-being is my responsibility, as well as your containment.” You opened your mouth, but he went on before you had the chance to cut in. “Left to your own devices, you’re prone to neglecting yourself. Is it so wrong of me to want to correct that?”

You shrunk into yourself, glowering. You could’ve done without the reminder that he saw your personality as something to ‘correct’, but compared to his methods, nudging you towards hydration was a negligible offense. “Fine,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “But don’t get it into your head that I’m some… some incompetent child that’s going to start crying for your help every five seconds.”

His only response was a soft smile, as tender as it was ingenuine.

A member of his personal staff left your breakfast (Neuvillette never ate with you – in fact, you were beginning to wonder if he ate at all) in front of the door a few minutes later, and Neuvillette made sure you’d finished the bottle of water, everything on the tray, and an additional glass of bulle fruit juice before he let you dress. Usually, you were allowed to entertain yourself while he attended to his responsibilities as the Iudex, but today, you were taken by the hand and guided to his office – keeping your eyes on the floor as you passed by the secretaries and bureaucrats that populated most of the Palais Mermonia’s administrative floors. You might’ve had Neuvillette’s favor (however much you could’ve gone without it), but in Fontaine, a criminal record wasn’t an easy thing to erase. You tried not to draw too much attention from those who surely thought you should’ve been buried underneath the nearest ocean and forgotten. “I miss you most in the dull hours of the early morning,” he said, when you asked him why you were being denied your usual freedoms. “Bear with me just this once, and I might be able to find time for a stroll through the palace gardens, this afternoon.”

No part of you wanted to spend your day rotting on a loveseat in a dusty corner of his frigid office, but the promise of being able to step outside (a privilege you were rarely afforded) was irresistible. You dutifully nursed a lukewarm cup of bland peppermint tea as he sorted through decade-old casefiles, made a show of gulping down a mug of hot chocolate brought to you by a doe-eyed melusine while Neuvillette reviewed evidence for an upcoming trial, and managed to hold a strained smile when a man with a wide smile and a jarring laugh stopped by with two armfuls of vintage wines – gifts for the Iudex from a wealthy merchant hoping to buy for the favor of Fontaine’s most influential. Since Neuvillette didn’t have a taste for anything with more flavor than morning dew, you were called over to sample each in generous portions as their conversation stretched on and on and on.

By the time the man took his leave, your thoughts were fuzzy around the edges, your lips were stained red, and there was a pressure on your lower stomach that you didn’t care for. You made it about a minute, then another after his departure before pushing yourself to your feet and starting for the door. If you were quick, you shouldn’t have to weather the disdainful looks of too many of Neuvillette’s—

“Dearest?”

You cursed under your breath, glancing over your shoulder. Neuvillette spared a small smile when he caught your eye, tapping his knee. “If you have a moment?”

Your grin faltered. “I… I was hoping to—”

“It’s rather important.”

You pursed your lips, but relented. You’d already done your time. You weren’t going to jeopardize your reward, now.

Irritation written clearly across your expression, you made your way to Neuvillette and, with another tap to his thigh by way of command, clambered into his lap. He positioned you to his preferences; Your legs thrown over one armrest while your back rested against the other, your shoulder pressed gingerly to his chest – the contact minimal, but enough to earn a sigh, a feather-light kiss to your cheek. One of his hands settled on your waist while the other cupped your chin, tracing over your jaw for a moment before dropping lower – to the lace of your low neckline, then your stomach, where it settled. You tried not to squirm as he lowered his head, his cold breath fanning over your neck before his lips came to rest against the side of your throat. “Such a beautiful thing,” he muttered, his voice low enough to reverberate against your skin. “I’ll have to get you another dress in this color. It’s unbearable, just how lovely it looks on you.”

The praise was far from alien, but no less frigid for its familiarity. Whereas his wardrobe seemed to contain only the harshest of blacks, the purest of whites, and the richest of blues, he favored you in softer tones, faded pastels and desaturated hues that always made you feel like a doll, buried in sheets of silk and lace and left to gather dust on a forgotten shelf. The style, too, was a distinct departure from what he preferred for himself; all plunging necklines and full skirts and lacey bodices pulled so tight, you were tempted them to a proper corset. It was far from immodest, even for a setting so formal, but the length of your skirt never seemed to stop his hand from slipping under the many layers of fine material, his gloved fingers skirting over the length of your clothed slit. You felt his lips ghost over the side of your neck, the points of his unnaturally sharp teeth grazing over your jugular, but you shoved him away before he could make contact. “Wait, Neuvillette, I—I don’t—”

Your voice gave out, and Neuvillette raised his head curiously. “Is something wrong, my love?”

“I… I, uh…” You balled your fists in your lap. “I can’t, right now.”

You couldn’t remember ever seeing his smile so wide. “You… can’t?”

“Shut your mouth,” you mumbled, face burning with humiliation. “I… I have to use the restroom.”

It sounded so pathetic, so childish. More out of embarrassment than anything, you moved to stand, but Neuvillette’s sudden stock of mercy had evidently run dry. With an airy laugh, his arm found its way to your waist, his hand slipping under the thin fabric of your panties. Now, he chose not to waste time – the pad of his thumb finding your clit and pushing slow, languid circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. You couldn’t temper your reaction, your elbow jutting into his chest as you jerked away from his abrupt touch, but Neuvillette held you tight, his fingertips digging into your hip as two of his fingers skimmed over your entrance, the leather of his gloves smooth and freezing against your cunt. Your stomach ached, your eyes flitting unconsciously towards the very much unlocked door of his office, but if Neuvillette noticed your lasting hesitancy, it wasn’t enough to stop him from pressing a lingering, open-mouthed kiss into the corner of your jaw, then the crook of your neck. Usually, you tried to bear his unwanted affection with a silent grimace, but you couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably as he gathered the arousal slowly starting to drip down your thighs. “Neuvillette, I don’t want to—”

“Hush, now. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Another kiss, this one to the dip of your shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about anything, I’ll take care of you.”

“I’m not worried, I’m—” You started to protest, but Neuvillette cut you off with a sudden nip to the tender patch just above your jugular. You weren’t enjoying this, you didn’t want to enjoy anything, but it would’ve been impossible not to feel something as his cool breath fanned over your neck, your chest, as his thumb fell away and he ground the heel of his palm into your clit, drawing a pained whine out of the back of your throat.

It took a conscious effort to keep your mind off of the fullness sitting heavy in the base of your stomach, to stop yourself from squirming quite so pitifully as he pushed two fingers into you with a cruel sort of ease. His pace was just as slow as it had been when he was only toying with your clit, but you didn’t know whether to curse or be thankful for the lethargic, ebbing way he pumped his digits into you, only ever pausing to spread them apart when his knuckles were flush to your entrance, when he knew he’d be taking advantage of the most vulnerable parts of you. Despite his vice-like hold on your waist, it took a considerable effort to stop yourself from swaying, from shifting, from moving in any way beyond the little, inevitable bucks of your hips you just couldn’t seem to suppress when his fingers brushed against that soft, sensitive spot inside of you. Moving only made it worse. Everything only seemed to make it worse, and it was only getting harder to ignore the pressure mounting against the walls of your bla—

Without warning, the hand on your waist fell to your hip. On moment, you were laid across his lap, and the next, you were straddling his thighs, your back pressed against his chest and your ass slotted against the now unignorable bulge in his pants. Whatever complaints you might’ve had about the previous angle were tripled in an instant. A third finger was forced into your cunt alongside the last two, the stretch immediately turning from awkward to unbearable. You thought you’d gotten used to the size of his hands, his monstrous tongue, even his twin cocks, but suddenly, it was like you were being forced to take him for the first time again, every new quirk and flick of his wrist bringing tears to your eyes, drawing fractured whimpers from deep in your chest. You tried to raise your hands, to cover your face, to make the thought of crying in front of him for the first time in months that much less devastating, but Neuvillette was faster – his hand finding your chin, tilting your head back and tearing away any foolish thoughts you might’ve had about hiding from him. His mouth crashed into yours with enough force to bruise your lips, his tongue shoving its way past your teeth and raking over your own with an almost zealous desperation – a type he rarely showed. His mouth moved against yours for a second, then another before he let out a throaty growl, the noise rough and gravely. If it hadn’t known it was coming from such a refined man, you might’ve taken it for that of an animal. “You still taste like that bastard’s grime.” It was the angriest you’d ever heard him. “To taint such divine purity with such wretched filth – it should be a crime, no, a sin.”

And yet, he was already reaching for the wine glass on the corner of his desk – still half full of a sugared white variety, nearly colorless if it wasn’t for the slight, pinkish tint to its hue. You tried to twist away as he raised the glass to your mouth, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to run, and it only took a few seconds for him to slot the curved rim against your lips, to tilt the glass back and fill your mouth with sickeningly sweet alcohol. It was too hasty, too clumsy – wine splashing against your face, trickling out of the corner of your mouth despite your feeble attempts to swallow it down and save yourself just an ounce of further embarrassment. You’d barely managed a mouthful when Neuvillette’s patience gave out – the glass falling away, shattering on the floor of his office as his hand dropped to your midriff, groping at your bloated stomach while his fingers pounded into your aching core. “Stop,” you managed, between broken moans. “Stop, Neuvi’, I can’t— I don’t want to— Stop.”

He let you whine and mewl, twisted and thrash, but it didn’t make a difference. Neuvillette only nuzzled into the nape of your neck, laughing as he spoke over your pitiful noises. “It’s alright, love,” he muttered, the harsh edge of his tone softened by heady affection. “You don’t have to fight it. I promise, I’ll take care of you.”

You tried to reach for the edge of his desk, to make one last desperate attempt to pull yourself away from him, but it was already too late. You clenched your eyes shut as you came undone on his fingertips, as some badly beaten wall inside of you finally gave out and an awful, awful warmth sopped into the fabric of your gown and trickled down your thighs. You didn’t want to look, didn’t want to know how bad the damage was, but as Neuvillette nursed you through your stilted climax, you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling open and dropping to the dark stain slowly spreading in the lap of your skirt, couldn’t stop yourself from hearing Neuvillette’s deep, rumbling groan as your… your accident began to soak into the priceless fabric of his pants. This time, he didn’t stop you when your hands shot up to cover your face, to muffle your broken cries as he finally drew back, pulling out of you entirely for the first time since he hauled you into his lap.

There was a second of stillness, of sweet-nothings muttered into the curve of your throat, but whatever relief you might’ve been able to feel was quickly replaced with a jarring, painful sort of vertigo as Neuvillette’s hands fell to your hips and he lifted you onto his desk – your chest pressed flat to the chilled wood and your ass raised high enough for your shirts to pool around your waist. You sobbed unabashedly as your ruined panties were torn away entirely, as the flat of Neuvillette’s tongue ran over the length of your slit, his saliva only adding to the terrible blend of slick and piss and mess leaking out of you. Any concerns he might’ve held for your pleasure were forgotten as he lapped and licked at your pussy, his tongue fucking shallowly into your cunt as his fingertips bit into your waist. If your nerves hadn’t been so fried, if your mind hadn’t been so clouded with embarrassment and despair and pure, undiluted humiliation, you wouldn’t have been able to feel anything worth salvaging, but somehow, you found little, wavering moans breaking through your incoherent sobbing, something other than pain and pressure beginning to coil in the pit of your stomach. You buried your face in your arms as you clenched around his tongue against your will, as Neuvillette left you whimpering and grinding against his mouth, helpless to stop your pathetic body from doing anything he wanted it to.

It was only when the final aftershocks of your second climax faded and the first pangs of piercing overstimulation began to set in that he pulled away, panting as he straightened his back. He didn’t so much collapse onto you as deliberately drape his form over yours – his chest pressing into your back as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Perfect,” he mumbled, voice distant, dream-like. “So perfect for me. You did beautifully.”

Your only response was another wobbling cry, a trembling sniffle. You couldn’t so much as imagine attempting to stand on your own, but Neuvillette didn’t seem to need you to. With one arm wrapped around your midriff and the other underneath the bend of your knees, he pulled you against his chest and hummed softly as you sank into his shoulder, your ruined dress falling into place like a leaden shroud around you. You decided, in that moment, that you would burn it as soon as possible, as thoroughly as possible. Neuvillette’s chambers didn’t have a fireplace and you’d never found so much as a candle within the walls of the Palais Mermonia, but that didn’t matter. You’d get rid of it if you had to break down the furniture for kindling.

“Can I…” You melted further into him, your eyes drooping before shutting entirely. “Can I go back to my room, please?”

“Soon enough.” He pressed a tender, lingering kiss into your temple. In your dazed state, you could nearly miss the scrape of pointed fangs against delicate skin, as he pulled away.

“I believe I promised you a walk through our gardens, first?”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #genshin imagines #yandere neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #yandere neuvillette x reader

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kooyabooya · 1 month

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HIERARCHY

m reader x dahyun // 9k words

(shoutout to @passingnotions for allowing me to adapt this idea <3)

“I have her here waiting at the desk if you’re ready to see her, sir.”

“Perfect. Send her up.”

It’s peculiar for these kinds of rumors to circulate given her status - and even when the sounds of her heels click off against the polished tiles and get gradually louder; until she steps past the open door and into the oval office, you still can’t put together why she’s a controversial topic in the first place.

“I’m glad that we can finally have this arrangement,” you say, glancing over the more she makes her presence known, “Overseer.”

It’s as simple as it sounds:

She’s the regulator. You’re the higher-up. It’s your job to assess, determine, and take action.

And the roles exist for a reason, and every system has its necessary balance. Nobody gets out of line, and nobody ever questions the orders that come from the superiors. Everything feels right in its place, between the people and where this institution stands, but there’s one catch that you’ve sought yourself to see out personally, after hearing some peculiar commentary building up with various faculty members.

This very woman standing in your quarters exudes this infectious aura that sweeps up the whole room. In the case of the students, it would send a chill down their spine, get a few beads of sweat to form in the palms of their hands and foreheads - a quick breath beneath their lips as they tense up because despite not being the main person in trouble, and she makes them feel that way regardless.

“I would like to know why you asked to see me in the first place,” she says, face stoic as she settles into the seat, gaze locked with yours, “Hopefully this isn’t about what we discussed the other time, is it?”

Something in the way that she sits, and how the two-piece set of her dress rests along the line of her shoulders, how her eyes dart through yours when you’ve caught yourself staring a bit longer than expected. Make the goosebumps along your arms stand up underneath the sleeves.

“It’s partly that,” you answer, pinching the edge of your cuff, hoping to divert the attention of death staring in your direction. “Among other things.”

“Meaning what, sir?”

Breaking eye contact, the formality alone snaps some composure into you. To recap: you’ve been in and out of meetings all day, talking about future plans to implement amongst the student body and faculty; then there was some discrepancies that was dealt with from past incidents brought to your desk, but the common thread from these accounts all pointed to the same thing:

“It’s about your recent-” the pause alone of the intended word hanging between your lips makes the Overseer puzzled about this discussion (though with the implications through the reports sitting on your desk, tell a different tale).

“-modes of conduct.” You tell her, which only earns a quirked eyebrow and a nod, signaling that you’re right. “I’m sure you’ve heard what’s been going around between the other staff members and what not, Dahyun.”

Even the name alone sometimes sends chills to your body. Overseer Kim Dahyun: the academy’s best instructor. Lead figure when it comes to dishing out disciplinary measures to those who were stupid enough to go against the rules. Once she has someone that’s out of order, it’s automatically assured that there won’t be any further incidents coming from them moving on. You’ve looked at the written reports, noticed that there’s nothing worth putting against someone like her with the reputation that she carries, but no one ever really stays perfect for this long.

“So tell me, Superior,” Dahyun begins, one leg over the other in her chair while you continue with the glacial pacing around the office, “What is it that you have heard about me, circling around with the other staff in the past weeks?”

“I guess it’s mainly the latter, the ‘forms’ of discipline you’ve been committing with various students.”

“What about them?”

“That's the reason why I’m having this discussion with you in the first place.”

Dahyun tilts her head down, eyes wandering the opposite direction, reflecting almost as her mind tries to piece the different shards of information rummaging about in her head. She’s one to not leave anything unchecked - down to the minute detail possible. Intricate in the way that she does her line of work, and meticulous with how she wants things to be done. She also gets along well with others to which they speak highly of her. You wouldn’t want to call these accounts ‘accusations’; not yet, until you’ve seen both ends of the scope before drawing up a solid conclusion.

She turns her head around to see you at the tray table next to the door, tending to the two glasses of water before a wave to the keypad locks the deadbolt into place, to ensure privacy and know that someone will eventually knock without even going to the front desk in the first place. “This is a first for me, especially coming from you, questioning my methods.”

“I don’t see what you mean,” you tell her, making peace with the glass in your left hand to which she accepts, “I’m only aware of the stories that were told in recent weeks.” Dahyun acknowledges with a sip, eyes still trained on you now on the other side of your desk, “Let this be a simple conversation between you and I, please.”

“Okay then,” she remarks, handing back the empty glass once she’s done with it, “I’ll ask this again: What is it that you’ve heard about me that caused this whole debacle in the first place?”

Her look shifts up, maintaining her posture, hands resting on her lap. There’s a few strands in her hair that look out of place, but most of it is neatly tied up in the bun hanging low behind her head. She knows that she holds this sort of entitlement, this status - even from the glances alone in all sorts of seriousness tell you not to mess with a woman like her if you were a student.

But you’re not.

The lift from her eyebrows, above the upper rims of her glasses, prompting you to answer. It’s all in your head, right there, the only problem is how the delivery is going to hit her. You have every right to feel bad to be the bearer of not-so-good news, but it’s the part of the job, and the more you stand there in silence with her looking up waiting for a reply, adds on the slow building tension in the room.

You’re reminded however, of the actions she committed.

“We have an issue, technically it’s not really an issue, yet.” Dahyun’s gaze twists at that, but it isn’t a look of clear confusion, moreso thrown off at the very topic of discussion. She scoffs, slightly amused, and you can’t blame her for giving that reaction. “Though it’s been brought to my attention in the past few days.”

And in terms of issues, there’s hardly any throughout the academy; thanks to the dedication towards molding the best and brightest students into civilized beings for the real world. Most of these incidents come at a scarce occurrence alone - but it still happens even if it’s an ordinary day throughout the week.

She blinks twice, maybe thrice, turns her head away, fixated on the edge of the desk still. Her hands mold together with a small unease, but she still looks empathetic with how her eyelids flutter in the small lines of breaking light past the windows.

“So say it then,” she says, tone flat - like in her lectures or when having a one-on-one conversation with a troubled student outside the hallways, “since you’re always so on top of the loop with the faculty here.”

The prompting. It’s so on brand for her to be like this - to set someone else up as a way for them to keep their attention, carrying on with the conversation till she finally has that satisfaction with the answer. There’s some admiration for her, in the way that she doesn’t back down from a disagreement, because she’ll always see it through no matter what the circumstance may be. It’s her strength, and also her weakness, but she’s good enough to not let it show on her face.

At some point you were afraid of her, something that you can admit to yourself from a long while ago. Not a lot of people at the academy even really liked her because she’s extremely intimidating, and that still seems to be the case now. Though, with all of the different events spread out across the place, some of the roses were given in her effort to come out of her shell which she takes your encouragement. It’s in those rare moments where she laughs or smiles, like a blue moon passing in the night sky.

You remember the task at hand, what needs to be done.

“It’s about the students,” you tell her, air slipping through your upper lip as a way of preparation, “I’ve been told by a few individuals that you’ve been having an affair with one of them.”

“What!?”

“This is all just speculation,” you say, settling into your chair as Dahyun keeps her posture upright and composed, “Hence you being here to tell me your side of the story so that we can try to line up the two different perspectives together.”

“That’s what this is about?”

“Dahyun.” That sense of professionalism has to be cared for. An eye to the desk to the few different reports that insinuate a wrongful framing; some of them were just verbal accounts and had to be on the record, but the whistleblower tip in the form of a post-it note already caused quite a stir around the teachers lounge.

“All of this is unbelievable.” She plucks her glasses away from her face, catching a few wisps fall out from their spot on the top of her head, clearly irritated. “I have- I have not. In no way those accusations are true.”

You pull your lips inward, trying to be sympathetic as much as possible in addition to being transparent. Her eyes darted back at yours, fully interested as to what you might say next. She expects an answer, and you’ll give it to her, but all you do is raise an eyebrow to where she scrunches her eyes in response.

“Are you sure?” To that, Dahyun rolls her eyes. You notice a quick pull from one of the corners of her lip, shuffling the small stack of files off to the side, leaning closer with both elbows on the wood. “I hope you realize that if you are withholding information from me, it can lead to harsher consequences.”

Dahyun clasps her hand to a fist, face still as stone as you watch her eyes sweep across the floor. A heavy bundle of air leaves your chest, keeping your gaze locked to her, waiting for an answer within the next moments or so. She knows that she can’t shy away from this, and she knows that the only direction to take is the one where truth is the sole passage. It’s also very interesting the way she doesn’t falter, sheltering her emotions inside. You’ve only seen her be the opposite of that - only once, a spell ago, and you were convinced that it was only a one time thing. The silence seems to get louder in the room, and she finally shifts her eyes back to you.

“Well?” you ask, to break the tension a bit, “You’re not my enemy here. I just want you to be as open and honest as possible.”

You can see the slightest clench at the bottom of her jaw, gritting her teeth behind her lips. There’s that thought of clear common sense, telling you that what she did was wrong, but that’s just one side of the story. Sure, that someone who created the rumor might’ve done it out of spite, or maybe they wanted to see Dahyun in a state of panic just for the fun of it. Some will say one thing, and others will say another. The only way that you’ll know for sure to make all of this go away is the personal statement directly from her.

“Overseer.” You huff, sighing out of pure annoyance.

Her brows crunch in response to the title.

“I need to know. That’s all I’m requesting of you right now.”

She sets herself square on the seat, facing you; she’s matching your height now in a sitting position, but despite the lack in length is replaced with the demeanor that she carries. There’s been some sort of competition thrown around by the students, talking about how Dahyun’s figure comes second to none with the likes of Jihyo or Mina to name a few. Gawking at the fellow staff members who caught wind of the conversation is what you give them, and it would take a metric fuck-ton of persuading to spill an answer out of your lips.

Still no answer from her as of this second.

“Overseer Dahyun,” voice now in a much lower register than usual to punctuate the gravity of the situation, “We don’t have all day; so either you fess up now, or I’ll carry on this conversation tomorrow if I’m not going to get it out of you today.”

Running her upper lip inward, you carry on with the scattered paperworks spread across the desk as she contemplates, unwilling to make eye contact with her while she keeps her eyes focused on you. By all expectations, you were hoping that this meeting would be quick and easy; just get the required information before writing up a report and be on your way. Still, you can’t help but think as to why she’s being so reluctant about saving her status let alone her job - all because she didn't do something that had very little significance to her and became such a big deal.

“Fine,” you say, slapping the pen lightly on the desk before beginning to stand up from the chair, “Just forget that I asked and you can-”

“One.” she finally says, after what felt like an eternity it seems. And then again, “One.”

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere,” you start, falling back onto the seat; Dahyun collects herself with the subtle rise and fall of her chest, breathing carefully. That crucial first step was already taken, and the plan in your mind to diminish this whole controversy is slowly scaffolding into place. “So I’ll ask this once again in a different way: Are you having an affair with one of the students in the academy?”

“Yes.”

��Is it…just the one?”

“Just the one.”

Despite how this information may be shocking to a degree, composure has to be kept from this point on. You’re just simply doing your job as the superior, and if this doesn’t get solved quickly, there’s more people in higher places than you that will do what you couldn’t.

“So,” you set yourself up for the next connecting inquiry, “I want a full explanation for this, as to when and how all of this came to be.”

Dahyun licks her lips, unsure if what she’ll say next will either be her saving grace or a shortsighted opportunity breeding on disappointment. You can easily tell that she’s uneasy, and it’s very impressive at how she’s able to keep an expressionless face for an instance like this. Put anyone else that works here in her seat and situation, they’d all panic or break a sweat pleading for an appeal to save their own skin. To hell with the fading wish for an interesting day every few weeks or so - because this potential scandal might make the whole week or even the whole year.

“Alright,” she relaxes, finally letting her body release all of the tension while she flutters her eyes back to you, “For the record, he came to me. It was-” a quick look to the side before subduing the sudden impulse coursing through her neck, “It was supposed to be a simple form of disciplinary action. A one time thing. Had him serve the correction and be on his way. Though, you’re very familiar with, well- you know, the methodology.”

“I see, and it took you that long to tell your side of the story??” Swallowing the small lump in your throat growing as her eyes fail to leave yours. “But let me guess, he-”

“He wanted to see me. Actually, he wanted to keep seeing me. I asked him as to why one day, and he was just fascinated with the approach that I do; he just wanted the pleasure for himself and as for me, I reveled in the satisfaction of taking advantage of him.”

“And you found it to be completely appropriate for this little entanglement to keep on happening?”

Dahyun then leans forward, and thank Christ you managed to save your wandering eyes from leering a second too late at the overflowing swarm of pale thighs ballooning on the cushion as more and more skin is revealed at the help of that tight light blue dress getting hiked up with the press of her legs. The inquisitive angle of her head at the given question, letting a stray wisp of her hair fall from the side before she drags it back behind the cuff of her ear. “So what are you saying?”

“Well, I’m the one who asked you first,” you answer, twiddling the pen around your fingers, maintaining eye contact with her. “Besides, I’m also not the one stuck in the middle of this debacle in the first place anyway.”

She sighs, head cocked back, almost vexed that this meeting has gone way longer than intended. You could’ve waited until after hours once all of the students had left the campus, but this was also the best possible convenient time because of the gap in her schedule during the regular day. Her lips stay shut, the soft tick of the clock mounted on the wall keeps on going. Maybe raising a white flag in the means of things might be better for today, and you’ll pick up where you left off tomorrow.

Most days don’t often go this way. Aside from the usual responsibilities throughout the typical day whether it would be out your desk or out and about peeping in different classrooms, you’re slightly ecstatic for the sudden change in pace around these halls. “I digress,” you say, leaning forward before finally carrying on, “So as your superior, Overseer, I’ll leave it off with this. Do you have anything else left to say before I draft up a report for all of the parties affected?”

Dahyun crosses her left leg over the other, clutching the glasses in her hand, her head tilts at that same right angle as earlier. The gaze she has is unchanging, staring at you right in the face while you’re quickly examining the two sheets of paper placed next to each other on the desk, sliding them away into the pile as you stand up off the chair. You’ll take this meeting as a win, at least some of the information was suitable enough to your liking for now. With all that done and over with–

“Still no answer?” You ask, fingers dancing along the button of your cuff, carefully threading it through the small slit, “Don’t make me ask this again–”

“No.”

“No?”

“I told you. No.”

“Really now?”

“I have already made my case with you, sir. There’s nothing else left for me to say for the time being.” she answers with a shrug to her shoulders.

Dahyun’s throat tenses when she sees the once needling eyes from you become quickly disinterested with her return. Incompetence was a sheer rarity with the way you operate your role, let alone a hindrance that you see in other people. Like the rest, it wouldn’t be long for everyone to get whipped into the ‘new regime’ all those years ago; some stimulating commentary at the time, but everyone understood once the policies were put into place.

Though, this meeting has gone long enough, and keeping her here wouldn’t really do anyone good at this point.

“Consider this conversation to be over, then,” you say, turning your body to the window panes set behind your desk, looking out at the moving trees in the breeze. “You’ll hear from me within the next few days so, carry on until you’re notified.”

She then stands too, hand clasping to her wrist, subjectively giving you a nod with your back turned, seeing her out of your peripheral vision. The emotionless look that’s her only mask, unimpressed and cold, as if nothing ever phases her in the tiniest of mishaps. You know that she’s just like the rest, despite wearing that facade like if life were to depend on it, part of you wants to break her- to tear up that infuriating fray of nothingness, spark some kind of fear into her core that would have her screaming, beg for a twinge of mercy.

Reading those accounts of what she did with that student, wasn’t supposed to make you interested, but it is. A worthy head-scratcher for someone like her to have a few screws loose every now and then. It just didn't add up, for her to treat this so pointlessly.

Even when she starts to bundle her feet together, swiveling them across the tile, she still carries this peculiar gracefulness in her step as her profile sweeps out of the picture - her back coming into view. She’s put up with that facade against you for so long, you know that it’ll be easy for her to comply in her case because it’s not in her nature for her to defy orders.

A turn of the head signifies a chance out of desperation; a lifeline, and you’ll give her the luxury of deciding her fate.

“And one more thing,” you setup, rolling the sleeves of your shirt to the elbow, to where Dahyun turns her body the long way round, hands behind her back, waiting for the next thing to leave your lips, “I’ll be perfectly blunt with you because I know that you clearly know better.”

Her forehead twitches at the cause of her brows bridging against each other. You see the small nick of her head that also shows the acknowledgement she’s willing to give you, both ears and eyes trained on you once the spread of your fingertips rest on the polished bark.

“You’re aware of this academy’s policies when it comes to relationships among peers, it’s basically frowned upon,” you tell her lowly, “Let alone of the fact that you’ve been having this intolerable amount of behavior out of the false guise of indignancy.” She starts to internalize this short reproachment you’re dishing out on her, watching as her eyes expand by the passing second, “Now, I’ve could’ve let this be handled by the high council, but they’ve gave the chance to me in order to see if I can get this incident resolved without having any further escalating conflicts.”

She parts her lips, wanting to take the opportunity at clearing her name, but she holds back since there’s that hanging impression of ‘what’s there left to be said once everything is put on the table?’ And even so, would anything serve to be better in the good graces of innocence for her case?

So she says nothing. Forever holding her peace while you audibly scoff at her. “I expected better from you, Overseer, I really did.”

It takes the next few seconds to re-organize your workstation, she hangs herself in limbo, gathering her thoughts as the window to save herself starts to close smaller and smaller, and she finally takes the sealed fate into her hands.

“If I may,” she says, diverting your attention from the desk back to her - hesitant to the point where you can rightfully assume that she’s eager to finally set everything straight: “I’d like to formally tender my resignation here at the Academy.”

A bold move, Overseer, but a surprise one too-

“On what grounds?” you ask, clearly taken aback with the sudden course of action by her own admission. “I don’t really see to understand while you would go to such lengths for this little incident-”

“Because I will admit to you, Superior, that I saw that student out of my own volition. I’ve made the effort to set time aside from my schedule so that he and I could have our private meetings in my office; for the sake of his pleasure and for my sake of being able to satisfy those kinds of requests for him.”

This tidbit of honesty coming out serves as a great reaction to your scolding, and not a lot of people get the credit they deserve trying to convince a person like Dahyun, but luckily you’re the one - if not the only one to have that ability in advising her. You always believed that she’d come around in some way or another, considering that this was the very first big fuck up from her too.

“Superior.” The name alone brings you back. “Please, consider my resignation. And I’ll make all of this go away.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why can’t you?” Her voice is strained, a fist at the side of her thigh, nails deep into her palm enough to draw blood, “I have to do this. I need to do this, sir. Please, let me-”

You can see the desperation start to break through the cracks of her stoic persona, inching closer to where you want her to be. She can play the cool, level-headed teacher all she wants, but you know that this whole fiasco was her doing; like anyone else, they’ll do anything to make things right, no matter the cost. Then the getting ahead starts to seep through your frontal lobe: what she’ll start asking for next, the kinds of lengths she’ll commit to if you’re not the one to throw the figurative lifeline at her.

Not just yet, guiding her into the right mindset will fall into place if you let the inner workings of panic do their thing.

“Overseer Kim.” You slowly navigate closer to her, rounding the desk with every moving step across the room. “Even if you were to leave, you can’t. I’ve taken the liberty of locking the door here because I knew that this would happen: the way that you’re acting, we can’t have this.”

It’s amazing at how she’s at ease, despite having the mini breakdown just an instant before.

Because her act is rapidly deteriorating.

“Sir, I don’t follow-”

“Dahyun.” With a hand to her shoulder, her face freezes right when she flashes a look of suspicion, tensing up at the touch before she locks eyes with you again, the unsureness diminishing with a singular eyebrow raise. “I’m giving you an opportunity to have all of this resolved without any loose repercussions.” You can feel the heart rate within her start to calm down the way her breathing stabilizes, tension along the line of her shoulders releasing with every pass of air, “There would be no need to resign, and we would find a workaround to prevent this from ever happening again.”

“And how would you suggest that, Superior?”

“By granting you amnesty. Without the word from anyone else but me.”

You can see that same sweep of her eyes moving left and right, unable to meet yours. The offer alone is taking her a significant amount of time to consider, a mistake that she’s willing to undo. She then looks up with a wistful gaze, the small spark dashing through her irises - as if she had just made the discovery of fire. Her mind starts to work and it’s so easy to tell, reflecting on this potential choice that she’s able to make. “You don’t mean-”

“Mean what?” Letting a sly grin break through your lips.

“By amnesty,” she adds, tilting her chin up, bearing your arms across your chest, “What would I have to do in order to achieve this?”

She has a general idea of the term itself, and maybe you think she’s also heard of the many things thrown around with this specific practice or policy of yours. This occurrence has happened a few times, whipping up a few notable individuals into shape - some much more needed than others, but the commonality between all of them: they’d always submit themselves to you.

“Do you admit and accept the responsibilities of your actions, Overseer?” You formally request with hands reaching to the fine creases of her dress to which she accepts.

There’s a brief pause of consideration again, and you’re watching her eyes never leave yours, thinking about the whole reason that you two are in this position in the first place. It may be a little hard to believe still; knowing what Dahyun will do not only for herself, but for the academy. Then there’s the logged report from your desk, in detail of what she did with that student, makes you realize that she’s got a screw loose in her head.

“Yes, sir.” She answers, looking up with a delighted smile, fully realizing the opportunity and taking it with no regret. “I do.”

“Good.” With a sigh of relief, a hand escalates to the back of her neck. “Because your punishment begins now.” And she’s in awe of the shimmer in your eyes, slowly grinning when you’re dipping your head down lower, minimizing the distance. It lights a fire within you, a motive of what will entail from this point going forward.

This is what amnesty is, Dahyun would think, be oh- she has no idea what she just got herself into.

You learn that she’s receptive, the way that she takes your lips with hers so well, hands flying freely, breath clashing with yours. It’s messy, the way more slick starts so spread on the lower half of both of your faces, wanting more. Her tongue weaves its way past your mouth, a leg hiked up that you greatly take the hint for, channeling the hum of approval coming from her down your throat. She grips tight on the back of your shirt, adamant on taking this chance to build a clean slate, a perfect rush of gasps followed with even more kissing. Her hands are well into your hair when you pull away, a pause to probably call a stop and-

“So it is true,” she admits against your cheek, “About this little policy?”

You lift an eyebrow unimpressed at her.

“What do- you don’t even know what you’re talking about.” you mumble, grip getting tighter on the fine part of her ass, chest heaving slightly, breaths getting uneven.

“I thought it was just some legend here, around these halls.” Dahyun answers, letting her wrists relax while swooping under her legs, instinctively wrapping them around the small of your back. “Maybe you can show me if that’s actually a real thing.”

She doesn’t see the flared nostrils you’re giving her, “I’d like to thank you, Overseer,” setting her on the desk nicely when the clack of her heels fall onto the floor, echoing the room as she removes the top piece of her dress, tossing it over to the chair she was previously sitting at, “For reminding me what I was doing.”

“And that is?” She asks, naively.

There’s a bit of a shock when you force her body to the desk, a flushed reaction covered with a gasp when you have one hand fastened to her wrist, the other lightly on her neck with the grip on the fingers getting delicately tighter. She tries to read your expression, map out the crinkles falling towards a cross or a devilish smile, feeling your breath graze along the line of her neck in these soft hitches.

“Allow me to show you,” you whisper, flipping her small body to where her back is facing the ceiling, toe tips nearly grazing the floor but just barely. The same hand to her wrist is now shifted to her back, the other set flat; searching for something to take hold, she peeks over her shoulder, watching you study the way her dress hugs along the shape of her waist and hips.

Doing this kind of practice was no surprise to you, and it doesn’t happen as often as you would’ve liked. Ryujin took three tries before she’d agree to not be a bother to you, Haewon probably took a few days or more to finally come around, and even Mina just recently. This revolving door into your office and form of chastising was the last resort of necessary actions for your fellow colleagues, some willing to challenge your authority, others were willing to submit.

“What do you think this treatment entails?” you ask vaguely, raising the lower part of her dress to reveal more and more of her ass into the light, taking note of the noticeable choice of lace as she hikes it up with her free hand. “I sure hope that this should help you learn a thing or two. Though, it’s entirely up to you.”

Dahyun’s side profile is amazingly flawless to see when you’re gently kneading her soft ass with your hand, palm moving graciously along the fine skin, fluttering her eyes shut, her breathing begins to become irregular, a small tremble to her hips as you press down lightly on the waistband, tugging on the elastic before letting go. The potential is right there at your hips - at your fingertips, to ruin, break skin, a perfect canvas for you to mutilate in any way you see fit.

You laugh and admittedly, out of spite. “I’m sorry, if this meeting didn’t occur, you were going to invite him over for another one of your private sessions?”

She seethes, but in anticipation, drawing a sharp inhale of air when your hand slides up her back. Part of you wants to put her back onto the wood, but you let it slide when she lifts herself off to meet your cheek, getting a bit selfish when she’s refusing to pull away. Her swollen lips and lidded eyes are too tempting to stop yourself- as if she’s the one pulling you into her spell.

“Had I not been found out, I would’ve,” she murmurs, clutching onto a bit more of her hiked up dress, revealing her bare ass to the open air, unveiling a strike point.

A fast hand tends to hers, placing it with her other hand still pressed behind her back. She writhes at the uncomfortable position but the tension passes through her body once you adjust.

“You know what I would say to that, Overseer?”

“What-”

Nothing is said, but all is shown with a harsh slap to her ass. A statement.

Strike one.

Dahyun quietly yelps at the sudden hit to her backside, everything from the waist down clenching from the contact. The rough palm on your hand stings to the point where you’d have to flick your wrist a bit to subdue the burn. Her breathing starts to become irregular, wiggling her legs hanging from the side of the desk.

“Superior, ah-”

“I should’ve also mentioned that I’m permitting you to use expletives, but you’re already ahead of the curve as it is,” you tell her, massaging the crimson mark now apparent across the breadth of her ass, feeling the bits of heat emulating across the rough creases of your palm. “You’re now free to speak your mind.”

“God, f-fuck. I can’t bel-”

Another rough hit cracks an echo in the room. Earning a high-pitched whine from her. Strike two.

“Choose your words more carefully.” Fighting the urge to smile at the sight this woman splayed across the table, letting out these heaves of desperation, body tightening and untightening on the surface as she’s hiding her face from you. “I don’t plan on easing up after what you did.”

“Sir, please. I just need to-”

You press her deeper into the table, hike up more of that insanely tight dress to her waist, letting her struggle under your grasp. The sounds leaving her pretty little lips would drive anyone else drastically crazy, watching as this uncrowned beauty crack under the weight of your touches with a third slap. Strike three.

What sets Dahyun apart from the rest that has gone under your specified practices of treatment is the appeal she possesses. At least everyone from the faculty to the students have shared their thoughts about her: few envying and others fantasizing. You’re somewhere between the two, impossible to really tell for yourself, but what’s rest assured:

There's more than a boatload of things to discover with Dahyun that’s already a list growing by the second. Dragging your fingertips along her thighs, pressing and pinching in spots where you’re trying to assess how nimble she can get, the way you can twist and mangle her limbs into a plethora of ways that’s drawing up with the imagination running through your head. How she shudders when you’re pulling on the elastic of her panties down her luscious legs, drinking in the sight of her glistening pussy lips hanging off the rim of your desk, clearly having an enjoyable time with the slick soaking her undergarments as well.

“Have we had enough? Or are you willing to take more?” you ask, letting Dahyun keep her own hands behind her back with yours fastened over the curve of her hips, sliding down to her red cheeks, handprints visible as you're soothing the damage. “I definitely think that you can handle more, shall we continue?”

She shivers, the slightest grasp to her ass gives another hitched breath, caressing it briefly as you’re plotting the next move in your head.

“You can answer me, Dahyun,” you tell her, leaning down over her back, nose tangling within the threads of her hair, brushing the cuff of her ear before planting a kiss right below it, “But from these sounds I’m hearing tells me that you’re enjoying it.”

A small twist from her singular eyebrow, lids still sewn shut, “You’re ecstatic, that I m-misbehaved.”

“Can you tell?” Another slap to her ass and a tug to the soft skin.

“Y-yes sir, I-”

And another.

“I’m not convinced yet.”

Then another strike.

“F-fuck sir-”

One more hit to bring the tally up to seven.

“Makes me wonder what you were going to do with that poor student if this carried on without my interference.” And at this point her ass has morphed into this ruby shade with every strike that follows. Her shoulders roll back, you’re keeping her in place, wrists still stacked on top of each other, hands opening and closing in response to the pain the more slaps you dish out.

Dahyun struggles to keep her breathing stable, one firm grab to her asscheek as you’re planting a few scattered kisses down the column of her throat, teetering along the bridge of her collarbone. “Tell me, would this be on your mind with him also?”

She doesn’t open her voice to tell, but a simple nod is all she gives. “My, my, Overseer. You really are something.”

You could be satisfied with the way things transpired in this very room, content with the message sent and the warning laced between the lines. A momentary pause, hushing her whimpers, tending to the red tint of her ass, easing the ache of pain mixed with pleasure. Her eyes are scrunched along with the bridge of her nose, gnawing on her bottom lip as your fingertips continue to dance along the sensitive skin.

“Are you ready for the next part?” you murmur into her ear as your hand trails down to the space between her legs, dragging a pointer finger across the warmth of her leaking slit, listening to the sharp breath passing through her lips again.

“Mmmm…” Her legs buck against the drawers, dipping the two pads into her walls. The corner of her lip wobbles as she throbs around your fingers, dragging and sliding in a form of trial and error; seeing what she likes and what doesn’t, the light in her eyes filling with lust. “Sir, please, yes, God-”

She sees another idea spark in your irises, drawing away from the warmth of her pussy temporarily, hands fast to undo the belt around your waist. Dahyun could only watch as you’ve got the leather wrapped around, creating a loose hoop at the end before lightly placing it across the two divots in her back resting above her ass.

You test the pliancy of the looped belt on your other hand, ensuring that the article rebounds nicely across your palm. “I’ve got one more thing to do, consider this to be a test of some sorts.”

“What do you mean, Superio–”

Her voice screeches when you strike the leather in the same spot where your hand hit on her ass cheek; entire body tensing from the sharp pain before breaking down into broken down sobs. She tries to resist by getting up, but you keep her in place as she whines, adamant in believing that she can’t handle it any more.

“Oh no, we’re not through yet,” you hiss, not paying any attention to the stray heel hitting your thigh in retaliation. “Not until you tell me that this won’t happen again going forward.”

“Just for the record, sir,” Her hand grips the underside of your forearm at the same time your weight begins to stack along her back, furrowing her brows and gritting her teeth. “I wanted this.”

“So are we going to have a problem like this again next time?”

“Absolu-”

The leather belt finds her ass again, the crack in the atmosphere strong enough to mistake for the clap of lightning.

“No,” she pleads, twisting her head back and forth, sounding off another thwap to make a point. “No sir, we’re not going to have another problem with this ever again.”

“Good,” you say, the formality alone shortly returning, hands hovering over to her wrists, slackening the belt as you begin to wrap it around her. You’re keeping focus, maintaining your thoughts meticulously, fighting your cock that’s beginning to ache in your trousers. “I’m gonna take good care of you now.”

Once you’ve got the leather fastened around her wrists, there’s another fill to be satisfied when you slip your fingers back into her cunt, throbbing at the way you curl them inside, earning a few harmonious sounds as her back arches to the touch. She’s melting by the second, “Yes, yes, please sir, I want-”

“Speak up,” you breathe, sinking down to your knees, hands resting at the rise of her hips, glistening lips into view. Everything about her is a new learning curve, and the way her lower half is still hung over the edge, ankles neatly crossed together like her bound wrists, you almost feel bad for enacting this onto her.

Keyword almost, and you put your mouth on her other set of lips. Unsure, testing, getting those first savoring seconds up her wet cunt. Her whole body pulls inward, choking down a cry, and you realize, this woman is filled with surprises.

But you didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself, the shivers she dishes out, the string of hums continue to leave her mouth. This wasn’t the time to keep the niceties - shoving your whole face and tongue into her pussy, tongue slipping through her opening in these strokes, body contracting and relaxing. The fingers also come into play, tapping along her clit and eventually dipping in to where your tongue can’t reach, the wetness soaking your fingers, the short grasps letting you know of that beautiful high fast approaching.

“I’m gonna-” she says, voice peaking in a higher pitch than the last, the balls of her feet hitting your chest, holding her down at the bottom of her thigh and ass. “Sir, I’m gonna fucking-”

“That fast?” you ask, gaze glassy, drunk on the sweet slick that’s all over your lips. Biting down the laugh from the top of your throat, “And here I thought you’d hold out a bit longer for me there.”

She pulls her body up with what little strength she has while being tied up. Panting. Heaving. You’re content with the structured appearance of her face completely ruined, tense, letting her eyelids flutter when she feels your finger slip inside her once more, because another feeling like this wouldn’t really hurt anyone.

“Final question. Are you going to be good for me from here on out?”

There’s a silver lining with the sense of humiliation you’re giving her, nearly sympathetic when your knuckle finds its way deeper. It’s wrong, you think, to be like this, but you’ve learned with the years of experience of being in this place that people will only listen when backed to a corner with no other way out. Everyone here is aware of the rapport you have with others, the kind of power that shouldn’t be really shown until it’s a desperate call to make to ensure everyone’s on the same page as you. This time isn’t really different.

But still, it’s a first with her, and you’ll take this grand opportunity to pressure her into not making another issue for the next time.

“Dahyun,” you’re telling her again, because she’s just staring at you in awe. The way you’ve been handling her; professional at the surface level, finding a pressure point to the things that she’s been accused of committing, drawing that out of her by any means necessary, until you’ve managed to break her. “Answer me, darling.”

She comes back to her senses when her body shifts more inward to the wood, resting right at the bending point of her hips, listening to the zip from your pants. The most evil thing she’s done all day: a sly smile breaking across her face, watching you tease the head of your cock along her wet lips. This will be a problem, but a welcome one. You’re hoping that you’ve done your part to the best of your ability.

“Yes sir,” she answers, shimmying her hips to tease. “I’ll be really good for you. I promise.”

“I hope so.” you retort, “I can be very convincing.”

A slip inside, a slow push. It’s electric. Further. Deeper. Filling her cunt up, her walls leisurely stretch around you. The heat alone is euphoric, coming to you in a fast rush. You hold yourself in for as long as possible, but it’s futile; she may have a few screws loose in the head, but you’re not far off the mark as well.

“God,” she mumurus again, and you drag yourself out slightly. Back in nicely, smoothly into that heat, until Dahyun nods her head in approval. She gasps again when you move past the previous spot your cock was inside her, nearly to the base.

“Oh, my fucking-”

A shared gluttal moan parts from your chest and hers, eyes fixated on the sight of your slicked up cock carefully impaling Dahyun, the friction becoming more and more addicting. The muscles in her back start to freeze up along with her clenched hands, fighting against the leather around them. You make it easier for her case, lifting her chest up at the breast, leaning down to seize her lips on yours, holding her steady, cock carving up her walls with every building thrust.

Nose against her cheek, “This cunt,” you utter, pushing yourself deep as this girl is faltering moans with every hit your hips make with her sore, red ass, “I can’t believe how tight this grips me, god- fucking, no wonder he wanted to keep seeing you in the first place,” and you lean down the line of her back, letting her pussy clench around your cock, feeling the clutch of her walls, all wet and aching for more.

The thrusting starts to pick up, unrestrained and unrelenting now. You’re not even sure what to do with your hands, alternating between holding at the endpoint of her waist where her hips meet or press her unbelievable thighs together, to make the press around your cock that much better. A premature call to make, in comparison to the other’s that have preceded Dahyun: her pussy takes it in so well, you could bury yourself inside her for what feels like forever.

“Sir,” she groans out, the sentence being cut off with another slap to her ass, following up with the crash of your hips into hers, holding on to her binded wrists. “Please, please, please-”

“Please what, hmm?” You can’t really conjure up the proper thoughts to put in conversation, heaving out scattered spells of air with every stroke into her. “You’ve gotta help me out here.”

“Need more.” It’s a request for sure, and not a vague one. “Please keep fucking me.”

You do give her more, and nothing less. With every passing second you dive deep into her cunt, the beating in your heart accelerates just that teeny bit faster. The thoughts are out the window at this point, the only thing keeping you from figuratively passing out is the sopping wetness of her cunt every time you pull out and drive back in. The pace gets a bit faster, then you dial it back, watch as her upper body convulses across the desk, mouth hung open for all the moans to be let out, getting louder, more higher, and needier.

She gasps when you hold yourself inside, thrown off guard with the firm hit you give her, a moment to catch her breath. “Wait, no, fuck, why did you-”

Dahyun had managed to do something to you that the others couldn’t in this short span of time: break you. Even after all this time, it’s really interesting how the very person you’ve been wanting to see out for an instance like this is the one that’s managed to make you go all out into setting them right. She’s spearheading this thing, and not you. When it should be the other way around.

A fistful of her hair is grabbed, and her body is raised up, hips flush with hers. “If I hear another question leave your sultry lips, I’ll tape it up so that nobody can hear you screaming down the hallways.”

She bites her wobbling bottom lip, assuring you that’s exactly what she wants to happen, and it will. Her half-open eyes sees your head go sideways, planting a kiss down her neck, inching your cock deeper into her cunt past the hilt and her body shudders at it.

“Want me to fuck some sense into you now? Properly? Fuck this pretty little pussy that it’ll make you think right?”

She nods desperately, “Yes sir. Please.”

You bend her over across the desk again, hand still tangled into her hair with the other resting at her hips. The pace deliberate at first, savoring the sensation of how her body takes you, parting her folds with every inch of your shaft. She shivers when you tease her still, not going all the way, but making her earn it.

Now wasn’t the time for easygoing now, the sight of her backside is an eighth wonder of the world to admire, sliding out and dragging your cock back into her, gradually increasing as the additional slaps to her ass again, fucking her deep. You eventually decided that she’s served her punishment long enough, untying the belt at her hands and discarding it somewhere in the office, putting her hands up to the other end of the desk for her to hold on as you mercilessly bury your cock into her.

“Sir, I can’t keep- fuck!” she cries out, the litany of lovely whines and sounds the more you fill her up. She also takes the liberty of letting you take a breather, moving her hips back, bouncing her ass with you just standing there, watching as her perfect ass does this little ripple effect on the skin, jiggling with an endless movement.

It was getting all too much, and Dahyun herself was enjoying it as well, smiling with every groan that rips from your throat, hand floating over her hips, piercing your cock roughly back into her again and again, unwilling to yield the remaining bits of pleasure before either you or her reach that point-

“I’m gonna fucking- god, sir, keep going, so close-” she strains, gripping your wrists and tight enough for her to rip them off.

“Don’t fight me,” you spit, voice leaning towards something primal, “Cum all over this cock.” And she does.

Your muscles should be spent at this rate, but they hold out long enough as your ears are picking up the endless babbles and whimpers, mixed in with the sloppy strokes of your hips hitting hers. The mind is overloaded with so much, but your hands find rest at her ass again, burying yourself deep. And then it hits you in a flash.

One firm hit sheathing your cock into her cunt, and you pull out, cumming all over the fine plane of her ass. You’ll need to take a mental image to save for eternity - the way you’re painting in these lovely slashes with your release, all over her ass, her back - because you learn that she looks amazingly good like that. A fine figure, waiting to be defiled and tarnished, and it happens.

“God, would you look at-” you’re also left in disbelief, the grip around your cock loosening, eyes on leaking pussy lips, she’s hung down, face off to the side, eyes closed, steadily breathing. The words coming out of her mouth are inconceivable, but she’s thankful, praising you, giving thanks. Judging from how content she looks, proves that your hard work is done.

“S-sir,” she tries to say, still left speechless.

A kiss to the temple of her head, and a ruffle with your hand sliding down to her back. “So, are we satisfied with your conversation?”

Dahyun takes a minute or two, maybe more, to process everything that’s happened just now. She’s still on your desk, and you’re getting right back to it, slipping on your slacks, picking up the tossed belt that you used as a makeshift rope. Your ears pick up on the heavy breathing from her as she slowly gets up, hands giving her support on the desk, dazed and astounded once things start returning back to normal.

You fix up the rolled up sleeves of your shirt; Dahyun blankly stares out in space, fixing up her dress and placing some of the various items hit in the crossfire back in their right spot, off the floor and somewhere where you’ll fix soon.

“Dahyun?” you ask again, watching as she starts to make her way out the door. “Overseer.”

She turns at the title, realizing she left behind a vital piece to her appearance, dipping her head down in embarrassment, but you can already see the blush breaking through her cheeks. Her breathing is also irregular, but it’s a lot calmer than before.

“Sorry,” she says, squaring her shoulders, a hand taking the heels in yours. “Thank you, for- uhm, the persuasion.”

An inquisitive look is what you give her. Meeting your gaze, you notice a few stray strands out of place in her hair, take it upon yourself to use the tip of your pinky to move it away from her forehead. Not much is left said between the two of you, probably just small talk or the comfort of silence finally setting in like before. You can’t really seem to get over the wistful constellations behind the lenses in her eyes - and it’s something that you want to study more about.

“Right,” you tell her, patting her shoulder before guiding her to the doorway, fingers fast to the touchpad and the quick clicks of the deadbolt finally opens it. “I’m happy enough to see you again, without the intent of correcting your little issue.”

Dahyun nods in agreement, pulling both of her lips inward to force back the smile, but you see right through her. She begins to make her way out, bare feet on the floor, heels in her hand - a solid lasting impression after today.

“Before I forget Dahyun,” you’re calling out again, and she twists her head around to meet your eyes, “Let’s speak again sometime soon okay? My door will be open for you if needed.”

She squints, smiling a bit to where you see the bottom bits of her teeth. You give her a nod to emphasize your point. “Count on it sir. I guess I’ll be coming around more often, then.”

#twice smut #dahyun smut #kpop smut #male reader #twice dahyun smut #kim dahyun #twice dahyun #kpop x male reader

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prodbymaui · 1 year

Text

Oops, Baby (I Love You)

I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover

PAIRING: jeong jaehyun x reader

GENRE: modern royalty ; arranged marriage

WORD COUNT: 12.5k+ words

WARNINGS: heavy alcohol consumption, mentions of sleeping pills, food play, oral sex, dirty talks. (the whole fic is romcom slash very fluffy, the only nasty thing here is the smut scene)

SYNOPSIS: you had been living your life as a rebellious and controversial crown princess, now you must face the consequence of purifying your tainted image; marrying the gentle and infamous crown prince of South Korea.

PLAYLIST: Do you hear my heart?

A/N: after weeks of depression episodes what do you call them), I finally got the strength to finish this bad bitch lmao. I know you guys have been waiting so I hope you'll leave your thoughts after? anyways, happy reading!

Everything is spinning and everyone is either two or three. You don't know how much alcohol you've drank but certainly it was enough for you to stumble your way out of the bar, looking for somewhere to puke your guts out.

The intense nausea is already too much for your fucked up body system to accommodate, but the gods and deities thought it's not enough and it'll be perfect if you trip continuously on your Celine Truffle Pointed Heels, possibly damaging it more than you've done to your other shoes. The mask to hide your face is not helping as well.

Someone bumps your side and due to your drunken state, you lose your balance and break one of the heels, sending you to dive to your side. Your eyes shut close as you brace yourself for a painful slam but it never comes. Instead you meet a firm chest hidden underneath a black dress shirt and 2 layers of silver necklaces.

Looking up, through your hazy vision, you see pursed lips and palms up, as if avoiding touching you anywhere. As you step to regain your balance, you trip once again and like a deja vu, the man only lets you use his shoulders and chest to support yourself but never lets his hands touch you.

''You might want to get off of me, Ms…?''

Hearing that voice, a strange sense of familiarity and longing surge to your heart, engulfing it and squeezing it. As if to say, remember it.

''...heart.'' Why is my heart aching?

The man pulls away and observes you, sighing. He clears his throat. ''Sorry, Heart.''

His figure walking away is the last thing you see before your vision blacks out with no guarantee of you being able to recall the events that took place tonight.

Utmost disappointment. Series of distasteful comments. Disapproving reactions. Surely, these aren't the usual feelings of the people towards the soon-to-be-queen of their country but it has been the weekly routine for the people of yours to criticize their sole princess.

''Strip her off the royal titles–! Are these people out of their mind?!'' Your squeal that comes close to a banshee rings across the whole entirety of the bedroom.

''Excuse them, they take after their princess.'' Hiding her giggles behind a fist, Winter scrambles off the bed as you aim to strangle her fragile neck.

Barely dodging your deathly grips by an inch, Winter's yelps bounces off the walls continuously, followed by your irritated shrieks and threatening hands ready to crush your best friend. The chase eventually dies down with the two of you panting, catching your breaths. You pull her short brown locks one last time before jumping on the bed, face down. Winter does the same and lands next to you, arms draping over each other.

A knock disrupts the peaceful atmosphere that engulfs the room, pulling you out of your slumber trance. You knew the pattern of the knock too well. It is practiced by all royal staff to ensure politeness and great manners whenever they are surrounded by royalties and VIPs. Included in training as per the Queen's request.

The door opens and it reveals a female servant. This one's not yours, judging by the blue brooch. ''Good evening, Your Highness. Ms. Kang wishes to see you in her office right now and orders me to fetch you.''

''And why is that?''

''She said nothing, Ma'am.''

That earns a boisterous laugh from your best friend, alongside a series of claps. ''Goodluck on hearing an hour of scolding, girl.''

Winter sends you a 'fighting' gesture. You give her your middle finger.

The trip to the advisor's office takes a few minutes as the private chambers of the royal members are at the east wing while gatherings, some royal duties, and part where it is open for the public are dealt with at the west side of the palace. You're still not mentally prepared when the wooden entrance makes its way for you. As your eyes meet the pair of the royal advisor, you know you should've prepared yourself much better.

''Good evening, Your Highness. Please do take a seat.''

Albeit it's probably showing on the courtesy of your eyebrows, you still cover your scoff with a cough under your breath. ''Drop the politeness, Eunhye. I don't need it.''

Eunhye removes the newspaper that serves as a hindrance for you to see her expression, and there you spot the disapproving look on her face. You shrug inwardly. What's new? You suppose people in their late 30s are quite uptight. Or it's just your former babysitter.

Kang Eunhye used to play with you a lot during your childhood whenever you and your friends didn't have a playdate. You should've known she was going to take up her late mother's position when Eunhye often disappeared after the death of the former royal advisor. That was when she started changing and became more strict with you.

''You don't need it, you say? Good. Because I don't perceive it as necessary when I tell you Her Majesty had gone haywire by yet another scandal of her sole heir that she asked me to not let you out of the palace if it's not for your studies or royal duties.''

''–what?! That's absurd!''

''Oh I think it's a light punishment for a scandal involving participating in a brawl, breaking the nose of a commoner and almost ending up in jail. Mind you, this happened in front of a controversial bar! And to top it all off, it hasn't been a week since you were caught sleeping in the streets because your drunk ass couldn't help yourself up!''

You scratch your head. ''...well, if the bodyguards came–''

''They would've if you didn't switch clothes with a random woman and make them follow her thinking it was you! Do you know they got suspended and will not receive a portion of their salary because of what YOU did? It's only because of the King that they were spared from getting fired.''

''Not my fault that the guards you hired were fools and easily deceived. They should've recognized my figure even with different clothes.''

''They are bodyguards. Not your devoted fans–,'' Eunhye sighs. ''Your Highness.''

A moment of silence travels along the soundwaves of the room decorated with blue.

''Okay…? What do you want me to do, then? Public appearances? Press conference?''

Eunhye, knowing her ways, will probably advise you to address the issue, apologize for the things that you don't even regret to pacify the netizen. And because they most likely (definitely) won't buy your fake ass apology statement and continue to terrorize you on social media, your schedule will be packed with attending public events to show your 'genuineness'.

You've done this routine more times than the royal court approves so you know what to expect. In fact, you already have a few suggestions ready on which events will possibly dust bits of dirt on your name. You know this like the back of your hand.

The Queen enters. ''No.''

Apparently, you don't..?

The moment your mother opens her mouth, you feel as if a myriad of buckets of icy water washes over you.

''You will marry a gentleman with a clean image. By then, you will be seen with great influence and garner people's love.''

Once. Twice. You slap yourself three more times but you don't wake up from this nightmare. Winter only looks at you pitifully while chewing her steak.

''Darling, would you please stop hurting yourself?'' A lovable tone is evident from the King's voice, accompanied by a concerned stare.

You sigh but the stabs of your fork through your own steak doesn't stop. ''Marry a gentleman.. I can't fucking believe this.''

''Language.'' The Queen says firmly. ''I apologize for getting ahead of you. I suppose you don't fancy a gentleman?''

''You apologize for assuming my preference but not for taking away my freedom..?''

''Do you wish to marry a lady, then?''

Silence fills the table. You sigh. ''Honestly? Anything would be fine.''

Your mother mums. ''Very well, then. You will be meeting your fianceé in 3 days–''

''–as long as I get to choose who I am marrying.''

''That won't be possible. The person needs to have the most influence and power among your age. The gender will be the only thing we can let you choose.''

''You don't have problems with having a queer princess?''

The Queen frowns. ''Of course, why would we? It is neither a crime nor a sin.''

Your father then nods. ''The royal court fully supports it since two decades ago.''

''But not the 'choosing your own lover'?'' You can only shake your head. You turn to the maid nearby. ''Please bring this to my room, I'll eat there instead.''

Everyone watches you in silence. No one at the table dares to scold you for your behavior.

''She has the rights to be upset this time.'' The King comments.

''Yes, she does.'' The Queen agrees.

Winter warily looks around, pursing her lips as she raises her hand. ''Uhm.. Your Majesty?''

''Yes, Lady Minjeong?''

Winter winces at the mention of her government name. ''As your daughter's best friend, will it be possible for me to know who she'll be marrying?''

Smiling, the King snaps his finger. ''Ah.. let's see if the future lover would pass the best friend's vibe check.''

His husband sends him a curt glance. ''Don't ever try to use generational phrases, it doesn't suit you. Back to Lady Minjeong, yes, it is possible. Would you like to know now?''

''A-already? I thought you're still looking through the profiles?''

''We have tons of staff, Lady Minjeong.''

''Right, I forgot about that.'' Winter sheepishly smiles.

''I'll excuse myself then. I have an appointment with a VIP in an hour, I have to go.'' Just as the husband and wife head towards the exit of the dining hall, the Queen turns. ''It is Prince Jaehyun of South Korea. A good man and the best one for the princess.''

''None on twitter. Nadda on instagram. Nothing on their official website. Heck, there's not even a single picture on google! Does this Prince Jaehyun even exist?'' Winter exclaims as she continues to scroll on her phone.

Frowning, you throw a pillow in her direction. ''Let the others hear your whining and they'll think you have a crush on my soon-to-be-fianceé. Why are you so interested in him?''

''Well, duh! You're literally marrying him, that's enough reason for me to get curious! The question here is why are YOU not interested?''

''I'm more interested in that man at the bar.''

''You should give some! This is the person you'll be spending your life with we're talking about!''

Scoffing, you tug the ends of her hair. ''Will you stop saying I'll marry him? The engagement will be called off sooner than mom and dad can even realize it's coming.''

Winter gasps dramatically and shots up to sit. ''What if it's some old man with a stinky smell and white hair? Oh my god what if Her Majesty agreed to marry you off to some ugly ass 50 year old man for the sake of the country's betterment?!''

Threatening to punch her if she doesn't stop with the overthinking, Winter zips her mouth as she decides to scroll on her phone once again.

You sigh. ''Pretty sure, Mom wouldn't do that, right? I mean she said something about being the best out of the people among our age so..''

''Huh, look at this.''

Winter crawls to you from the part of the she is lying, hands careful not to swipe her screen and risk refreshing the page. You squint your eyes to see.

PANN:

Crown Prince Jaehyun Once Again Stuns The People Of South Korea With His Amazing Visuals.

[ +217, -5 ] It's a shame that we're not allowed to post a photo of him on the internet. How am I supposed to stare at his face for a long time then? How am I supposed to appreciate and share his beauty?

[ +190, -3 ] Daebak! The royal family just visited our village and the rumors weren't lying when they said Prince Jaehyun is handsome ahwksjskww. He's like a walking statue!

[ +165, -20 ] I would die for a man like Prince Jaehyun. Very gentleman and polite. One time, I was with my niece when I met him and the youngest prince in a mall. My niece really wanted the toy car but Prince Jaehyun and Prince Jaemin got the last one before use but they still gave it to my niece.

[ +132, -56 ] Heol ㅋㅋㅋ Of course he would say that, he has an image to keep up! Royalties would try to polish their personalities in public often because they can't afford to lose the trust of the people. It's so fucking dumb how you think the prince acts that way because that just how he is and not because he has an image to take care of.

[ +122, -13 ] The comment above lolol. You're just jealous that the prince has everything you don't; looks, manners, and brains ㅋㅋㅋ

[ +84, -7 ] I don't think Prince Jaehyun does it because people are watching him. I've seen him lecture Prince Jaemin about how he shouldn't expect to get what he wants every time and mind you no one was inside our store that time as our store isn't quite popular so he couldn't be doing it for his image. I feel like Prince Jaehyun is genuine!

[ +65, -5 ] Didn't a lot of people see him wearing clothes with no brands? And that he has a good relationship with the youngest prince? Idk about you but I'd say that speaks a lot about him.

[ +52, -3 ] I've met Prince Jaehyun a lot of times, the only thing I could say is; 'Ultimately Prince-Like'! Handsome and tall, like he's written by Taylor Swift ㅋㅋㅋ. Prince Jaehyun is a dream *three heart emojis*

As you read over the first comment again, the curve on your forehead only deepens. They are not allowed to post a photo of their prince? Then, that would explain the lack of appearance of the royalty everywhere on social media. This pricks your interest.

''That's a bit.. odd. They forbid any pictures of that prince from getting uploaded.''

''I know right! It's strange. Why would they hide the prince's face if he's truly handsome like the people said?''

You suck the top of your teeth. ''Maybe he's actually ugly and those that say otherwise were paid people. Or probably royal staffs ordered to spread some good words about their prince.''

''Why are you so hell-bent in making him ugly? Can't accept that your parents actually chose someone handsome, rich, and has good personality?''

Shaking your head, you wave your hand dismissively. Oh how you wish you could swipe off that annoying smirk on Winter's face. Is there a rule saying a princess can escape any law including those that involves unaliving a certain daughter of a duke? Hopefully, there is!

If, miraculously, your parents bring that man from the bar to you and arrange him to a marriage with you, maybe then you'll agree to tie up the knot at such a young age. In fact, you might even drop down to your knees and serve him–

The alcohol, or lack thereof, is definitely not good for you.

With the news of your engagement being released plus the anger from the people that is far from dwindling anytime soon, Winter didn't think twice to join you when the idea of getting drunk comes up. There's nothing better than drowning yourself in alcohol after constantly having to deal with the disappointed people of your country.

However, the night is just near getting young when your personal bodyguards dragged you and your best friend out of the bar. It is said that the royal advisor ordered them to do so but your mother was the root. It angered you to the core. They took your freedom of marrying someone you truly love and now, they're depriving you of coping with it as well? How controlling.

Winter was sent home right after both of you got howled back to the royal car. A couple of warnings from the Duke to his daughter and you know something is off.

Winter's father isn't one to indulge himself in his daughter's vices. Sure, he keeps tabs on her every now and then but the Duke of Boryeong never attempts to control Minjeong as if some kind of robot, lest he suffers from the wrath of Duchess of Boryeong.

You could only wish your own parents did the same. Maybe they will. If you beg for a couple of days in front of the palace while dawning your white hanbok like those korean historical films that Winter likes to watch.

Shutting the car door close, you pass a whisper of 'thank you' to the driver before striding inside the palace. There aren't many people aside from those guarding the entrance which is why you don't find the need to be extra careful on your way. Being free from the shackles of aches caused by your heels is the only thing on your mind.

Just as you turn a corner, straight down the hall that leads to the dining area– you collide with someone. It'll send you a few steps backwards if it's not for the grip on your blazer. Your vision clearing takes a couple of seconds, courtesy of being tipsy from your previous activity.

''Is everything alright?'' A rather soothing yet deep voice asks you, hands already back on his sides.

Your attention diverts to the man that steadies you. Sharp cheekbones in contrast to the soft jawline, almond eyes, and a slightly chapped lips. You wonder if they're naturally pink or the color comes from cosmetic products.

''Your Highness–'' Eunhye appears out of thin air and your bodies separate right as the royal advisor sets her eyes on you.

Your Highness? Who could this be?

''Ah, I see, you've met each other already. Shall we take this to the dining..? Her Majesty awaits alongside the King and Queen of South Korea.''

No words are exchange between you. Silence fills the air. Clicking of heels appearing every now and then until they reach where your parents and the leaders of South Korea chatters. Everyone stands before their seats at the sight of two crown heirs.

You might be rebellious but no way you're gonna forget the basic manners each person should possess. Doing a brief curtsy, you earn a loving smile from the Queen of South Korea. It radiates warmth and comfort.

The man beside you does a bow as well that makes his body fold to a 90 degrees. It was too formal for your liking. Too ancient royalty. Too prince-like. So this is what the mysterious prince of South Korea looks like. Somehow, it irks you to the bones.

Gritting your teeth, you sit at the right side of your father after exchanging pleasantries. Each person that occupies the seats of the table starts to dig in as they begin to discuss the matter which you assume is about your issue.

You thought you could go through this dinner in peace until the conversation, courtesy of your mother, diverts to you.

''I've seen the news but it doesn't bother me at all. The princess is merely having fun, just like those around her age do. I, myself, have gone through that phase. '' Queen Miyoung laughs softly. ''The Crown Princess is only at the wrong place, at the wrong time. We used to get in trouble for sneaking out often before as well, isn't that right?''

With the amount of times you've gotten snapped by the paps and you were caught doing shits that is considered inappropriate behavior for a royalty like you— surely, it's not a coincidence anymore. Ever since your first scandal came up, the media that follows your every step doubles. They are always hungry for a headline. And you cannot deny the fact that you're giving them a reason to use you as one.

Your mother reciprocates her friend's chuckles, shaking her head as they recall their memories during when they were your age. Surprisingly, there's a relief inside you. Well, at least the Queen of South Korea doesn't think you're a defect in the royal family.

''I think the wild-like personality of our dear perfectly contrasts the gentle and tame personality of Prince Jaehyun, which is a charming point that the people will eventually love once they got to know about this marriage.'' Your mother adds.

Balling up your fist, you had to bite the insides of your cheeks to prevent your eyes from rolling.

''Oh absolutely!'' Queen Miyoung places a hand on her son's shoulder, a smile once again appearing on her captivating features. ''My son here is known in our country as someone who is compassionate, emphatic, and humble. Talented on top of that as well!''

Adoration paints your mother's face. ''So I've heard. I feel assured that someone like Prince Jaehyun will be taking care of my daughter.''

''Please, Your Majesty, you can just call me Jaehyun.''

The velvety voice swoons the hearts of the Queen. ''Alright, alright. My heart is beaming at the thought of having you as my son-in-law soon, Jaehyun.''

What the hell? What did this Jaehyun do for him to gain the favor of those around him? Even your father is nodding and smiling in approval as he shares a conversation with this insufferable prince!

''Humor me, Jaehyun.'' Your father speaks. ''What do you do as a hobby?''

Probably plan how he can convince everyone with that fake ass personality lol.

Jaehyun pats the napkin on his lips before replying. ''Not much, Sir. I indulge myself in music instruments and sometimes, I also sing for fun.''

Did he do his research? That's your father's favorite pastime!

''Ah, singing! If you didn't know, that's one of the things I like the most especially if I'm consumed with boredom.''

Your mother nods. ''Catch him singing while signing papers at his office. Or while feeding our dogs.''

Chuckles blooms on the table.

''Maybe if we have enough time, you could sing for us?'' Your mother suggests as the others agree.

Jaehyun shakes his head with a fist hiding his smile. ''I'm not great at singing but I'll make sure to prepare once that time comes.''

Acting humble now, eh? He doesn't have to prepare because you'll make sure that time won't come. The skin on your forehead creases even before you could stop it. This is stressing you out more than you anticipated.

Deciding to release your stress on something else, you proceed to harshly cut your Sole Meuniére with the knife prepared by the kitchen staff all the while pursing your lips. Poor innocent Mr. Fish, suffering from the wrath of a princess.

Operation: Stopping the wedding! Step 1, do things that will turn him off. Forking the sea creature's meat, you make sure to chew extra loudly, looking straight at Jaehyun's eyes as you open your mouth every now and then while munching. Surely, anyone would grimace at the sight of chewed fish meat inside one's mouth and at the sound it makes.

Anyone, Prince Jaehyun not included. You slow down the movement of your jaw when the man only sports a brief squint of his eyes before turning away, as if he didn't see the disgusting view you just showed him. Is he not disgusted? Hah! Maybe this is how he actually chews when there's no people around so he's not bothered by it. That's right!

You nod subtly at the voices in your head, gulping the food down when it starts to feel a little weird on your tongue. Reaching for the glass of water, you sip the liquid to tend your throat.

''So about the wedding next week–''

The people gasp, your father standing up from his seat. Series of coughing sounds emit from you as you pat your chest continuously.

''I'm sorry– the water went down the wrong pipe.'' You face towards the other way while massaging your throat, your back getting tapped by your father.

What were they thinking, mentioning that fucking wedding while eating? What if you die from choking? Far-fetched, but you don't cross out the possibilities anyway.

Clearing your throat, you give them a smile after fixing yourself. ''Did I hear it right? The wedding is next week? Isn't that quite fast? We're not chasing a due date here. Plus, we haven't even announced an engagement yet. I'm sure the people will be shocked if I'm suddenly married or engaged in just a matter of days. I suggest prolonging the engagement for– let's say.. a month? I think that would be realistic enough.''

King Jaekyung sends you a grin. ''Dear, your engagement is trending on social media platforms as we speak.''

''W-what?''

You quickly fish out your phone. You don't even have to search either your name or Jaehyun's because an article about your engagement pops up the moment the app loads.

JUST IN: The Crown Princess Revealed To Be Engaged To The Crown Prince of South Korea

After getting involved in numerous issues, the Crown Princess had dropped off the limelight for a few days only to surprise us with an amazing news. According to the exclusive interview held two days ago, Her Highness shyly reveals that the reason for her disappearance on the radar is because a certain man snatches her focus with a shiny ring!

The princess happily shares that she and Prince Jaehyun, Crown Prince of South Korea, have been in a healthy relationship for 4 years now and still going strong. During the early months of dating, the two royalties express their worries about causing an unnecessary ruckus and heartbreaks if they ever go through a break up. According to Her Highness, a stable relationship wasn't exactly guaranteed as they live in different countries and have heavy responsibilities as the future leaders which is why they avoided letting the people know about their romance until they are sure that they can handle the consequences all at once.

''The country had been experiencing some serious issues back then so when Jaehyun and I started to get in touch, we decided not to make it public immediately. Not only were we just starting but we also didn't want to stir another headline if we ever broke up. We were teenagers 4 years ago, we were kids. We know that we are bound to make mistakes but as the future leaders of our countries, adding our childish break up to the countries' problems isn't something that we desire. Thankfully though, our relationship stayed strong and sturdy. There were a few fights here and there, of course, but Jaehyun and I remained understanding with each other. Those years were the reason why I didn't hesitate to say yes when he proposed to me. It was just the two of us, no cameras, no media, no other people. Saying this might be off to some but I was glad that only the both of us got to witness it. As someone who lives in front of the camera and prying eyes, we enjoyed the privacy and intimacy we had during the proposal. We initially didn't plan to have our wedding soon but we figured that there's no point in prolonging what's been a long time coming. Our love kept us intact throughout the years and until now, I could say that I'm still very much and deeply falling in love with him.'' said the Crown Princess.

Furthermore, Prince Jaehyun also shared that one of the reasons that he hid his face was to protect his relationship with his future lover, now Crown Princess. Show more…

''I don't– I don't remember getting interviewed for this...''

The Queen massages your shoulder. ''That's the power of influence, love.''

A shrieking scream jostles Winter in her bed despite being on the other line. Rubbing her ears, Winter felt as if her eardrums got busted just now. She munches on her cookies while she waits for you to be finished with all your screaming and throwing angry punches at the poor teddy bear beside your pillows.

The screeching stops. You look at Winter through the screen of your phone. ''Humor me.''

Eyes boring to you, she didn't stop licking the crumbs that were left on her fingers. ''What is it?''

''Making up stories about my supposed relationship with that man was one thing, but seriously? Telling the whole country I'm still fucking falling in love? Deeply even!''

You hear your bestfriend giggle. ''You think them making everyone think you're smitten with a man is worse than creating fake ass stories about your love life?''

''Well, Isn't it?''

''You're unbelievable.''

''Tell me something I don't know.'' Getting off your bed, you head out of the room. ''Anyways, text you later.'' Blowing her a kiss, the call ended just as you jog down the stairs.

It's been three days since you last saw that prince and those days might be the happiest of your entire life, sans the nags from your mom to get closer with that twat. For a few suns, you've surprisingly experienced peace.

However, it didn't last a long time. It seems like when God precipitated a rain of misfortunes, you were in the middle– swimming in it. Instead of peacefully staying at the palace just like you had always done, you received the news saying you'll move to a place– an apartment. And you received it through waking up one day and seeing them packing your things without even asking your permission. You were asking yourself whether it's real, or it's just a figment of your imagination as sleep still buzzed in your veins.

Now, what's so unfortunate about having your own place? Jeong Jaehyun, is what's unfortunate. You won't forget that infuriating smirk that he sports as he watches you glare at the boxes in the living room, boring holes in them. Complaints start to spill out of your mouth in a whisper despite being in the same space with him in just a matter of an hour.

Dividing the closet and choosing bedrooms is a nightmare. Everyone knows you've got things enough for 3 people, including your heels collection. Storing your possessions requires a big space, but Jeong Jaehyun thought it was a great idea to upped you and place his stupid rubber shoes (or sneakers) collections first without leaving any space for your heels.

Jaehyun stands by the door, leaning on the frame with his arms crossed as he witnesses you turn into some kind of witch, casting different spells, desperate to cast his annoying ass away. It's so comical that it had Jaehyun's shoulder shake as he stifles his laugh. A witch with a collection of heels? Truly, one of a kind.

''Let's split them, Jeong. You take the right side, I'll take the left.''

''No can do.''

''The fuck? Are you expecting me to leave my babies on the floor?''

Jaehyun quirks a brow. ''What's so bad about that? I'm sure your 'babies' will not mind where they are placed, nonetheless.''

''Well, I do!''

The prince turns his heels, but before walking away, he looks at you over his shoulder. ''Learn to take a no, witch.''

''W–what? A fucking what? Hey! Jeong, you jerk– get back here and repeat what you said! Oh you piece of– you did not just say what I heard you said.''

Needless to say, the night ended with you cackling like the devil you are in your room while Jaehyun stays at the kitchen, pressing a cold compress to his skin, hissing. This should go away by tomorrow, or he wouldn't be able to explain how he got a faint mark of slippers on his forehead. Prepare a protective gear if he wants to taunt a witch, Jaehyun notes.

Operation: Stopping the wedding! Step 2, piss the fuck out of him like he does to you.

Being the menace that he is, Jeong made it his daily errand to annoy the hell out of you. His day wouldn't go by without doing things that ticks you off so much you just wish something important would come up in Korea so Jaehyun would be obligated to leave your country and magically stay there for good.

Example no.1, the cookies you baked for yourself.

''Jeong, where's the cookies?''

''What cookies?''

''The ones in the tray. On the countertop.''

''I don't know no cookies.''

The crumbs on the corner of his lips says otherwise. You waited for half an hour to eat that!

''You– Jeong!!''

Example no.2 followed not long after. You were running late for a hang out with Winter as you couldn't find your today's pick of pair of heels. No, you wouldn't leave this apartment until you find that very pair. Your outfit won't look put together if you wear a different one.

A quarter before 9 PM, you still haven't found the shoes. Did you perhaps leave it at the palace? That couldn't be! You swear you saw it yesterday. Going back and forth to the walk-in closet, living room, and your bedroom– you're this close to tearing your hair apart and turning the whole apartment upside down.

Your phone pings and displays Winter's message. ''Fuuuck, where did I put that?''

Washing your hands over your face, you tilt your head upwards as you let out an exasperated sigh, stomping your feet in annoyance. When you open your eyes, you see the shoes you had been looking for the past 30 minutes. At the ceiling. Where the broken ceiling fan used to be.

How the hell did that even get— You recall seeing Jaehyun standing on a ladder this morning, saying something about fixing the fan.

''JEONG JAEHYUN, YOU FUCKER!!''

Boisterous laughter echoes from the bastard's room.

You still haven't recovered from the heels incident when example no.3 shows itself.

Hammered from drinking all night long after getting your hands on your shoes, you are swaying and tripping as you reach the apartment, slurring your nonsensical words. You don't know how, but you got home safely anyway. A hangover was expected yet it is harsher than you thought it would be.

''Ah fuck..'' You hold your pounding head.

Heading towards the kitchen, you fend your drying throat some water. Washing yourself is not on the list as you change out of your black bodycon dress and fit yourself into an oversized hoodie and sweatpants. You jog out of the building after fighting the urge to throw up the elevator and arrive at the convenience store in no time, your breath that reeks of alcohol be damned.

Picking up a few items for your hangover didn't take long, the cashier is already punching them a few minutes upon your arrival.

''You..''

You bore your eyes to the cashier. ''Yes?''

''...Nothing, Ma'am.'' He then proceeds to tell you the total of what you bought.

There's no further exchange between the two of you after that, so when you get your plastic bag, you walk back to your apartment. As you prepare yourself some cup noodles, you tilt your head, tsking.

Is it just you or the cashier has been giving you some looks? You might be suffering from a headache but pretty sure, you're sober enough to notice the subtle glances the cashier has been giving you. Did you do something stupid again last night? But Eunhye would be calling you first in the morning if you did. Maybe he recognizes your face? The country's princess' face is plastered everywhere.

''Whatever. Why am I even thinking about it?'' Ever since the engagement, you noticed that you became more cautious in your actions. The streets say the lioness got tamed by a prince. You say you just learned your lesson not to underestimate your mother's punishments.

Staring at your food, your bladder got triggered at the sight of the soup. Peeing what's probably the alcohol in your system, you stand before the sink to wash your hands. And when you look up, you feel an overwhelming surge of emotion.

You are shocked. You are angry. You want to hide yourself from embarrassment. You want to punch the wall. And on top of that, you desire to unalive a royalty, preferably a crown prince that comes from South Korea.

A smile that appears to stretch the ends of your lips. A massive black dot on your nose and cheeks. Two big horns at the top of your eyebrows.

''JEONG JAEHYUN YOU ARE FUCKING DEAD!!''

There were a lot of pranks that Jaehyun had played, with big ones not failing to show up each week. Hiding your charger. Stealing your snacks. Mismatching your socks. And many more that ruin your day so often that the second thing you'd do after waking up is checking for the prank that the prince had done for the day. You are frustrated. And it's not like you to let these kinds of things pass without getting back. This time, you're making sure he'll order to stop the wedding and regret messing with you.

Shuffling in her bed, Winter huffs. ''What do you want?''

''Help me curate a list of the most infuriating pranks.''

Your best friend frowns. ''What for? Are you turning to a kid now? Or perhaps, you're..'' Then she gasps. ''You're carrying a kid?!''

''..The fuck?'' How did she even come up with that conclusion?

''Isn't that what happens when two people who hate each other's guts live under the same roof? Like enemies to lovers!''

You scoff. ''I told you to stop watching kdramas.''

''I'm Korean, duh!'' Winter rolls her eyes. ''Don't forget I'm still upset you took a long time before telling me you literally moved in with your fianceé.''

''Well now you know, and I'm asking for help so I could escape this hellhole.''

''Wait– so you're telling me to suggest pranks in order for you to move out? How does pranking even equals to that?''

Giving her a bored stare, you click your tongue. ''I'll piss the hell of out him, he won't be able to sleep properly at night.''

Winter squeaks. ''You're pranking the prince–?!''

''Yeah, no shit. Who else would it be?''

''Never thought I'd to live the day I'll see you getting on prank wars with your fianceé.''

''Yadda yadda. Just help me with it, please.'' Winter fake gags as she watches you bat your eyes at her.

''Promise me when you get in trouble, my name won't get drag.''

''You're my ride or die, though..''

''...''

''...Fine.''

''Yay!!''

Jaehyun passes the clock a glance. He's up early so he doesn't have to worry about getting late to his appointment for the day. His footsteps ring from his bedroom, eventually transfering to the kitchen. Just as Jaehyun reaches out for a mug, a container catches his attention.

''Made too much, you can eat it if you want.'' The sticker on it says.

His eyes must be playing with him. What has gone to the witch? Should he be scared? Although overthinking aside, you mentioned that you only made more than enough for one person, hence giving it to him. Welp, free breakfast for him then.

Sitting down, Jaehyun takes off his coat lest he stains it minutes before he attends an appointment. The lid clicks open and his nostrils hit with an appetizing scent of eggs and bacons. There's some rice and tomatoes on the side as well.

Biting the bacon along with rice, Jaehyun chews slowly, checking out the taste. He then hums, figuring out there's nothing to be afraid of. They taste like what they should've been. Strangely, Jaehyun thinks it tastes more delicious.

Today, you are not at the unit as it is the start of your 'redeeming reputation' era. Jaehyun ponders what you're doing right now. Are you sleepy? He heard you talking to your friend at 2am. Have you eaten breakfast properly? You eat a little in the morning. Are you having fun? Or you're just pretending to be? You don't fancy gatherings unless it's with people you are close to.

Jaehyun doesn't know when he started thinking of you, he just catches himself wondering what you're up to often. Is he catching feelings? Is he getting infatuated? Jaehyun doesn't think much of it. If he's developing feelings, then so be it. Would it be bad for him to harbor romantic feelings for his–

Saliva lands everywhere on the counter as Jaehyun launches forward, spitting what he ate at the empty spot of his plate. ''What the fuck..?''

Using a fork, he pokes the egg, turning it sideways, up and down. The food breaks down with all the movement, revealing the receipt that left an overly salty taste on Jaehyun's buds.

Fishing out his phone, he snaps a picture of the devil food in front of him before sending it to you, uncaring if it looks disgusting and all chewed up.

JH: What the hell is this?

Not even a minute, you reply. As if you've been waiting for him to message you.

You: Uh.. egg? Duh.

Jaehyun clicks his tongue.

JH: I know it's a goddamn egg. Why the fuck does it have clumps of rock salts in it? We put iodized, not the huge ones.

You: Heh. *Tongue out and eyes shut closed tightly emoji*

Jaehyun gulps down his water alongside his irritation, eyebrows meeting each other. He tries to settle for the bacon and rice but the demonic egg fucked up his taste buds and now, he can't enjoy his breakfast. Jaehyun should've known his fate was written the moment he decided to prank you.

Little did the royalty know, it was just the start of his road to slow death. Starting from the salty as fuck eggs, Jaehyun soon finds out you took the remote of the TV and so he couldn't watch the movie he had been waiting for since the announcement of its release date, unfortunately Jaehyun is not one to remember his passwords– he couldn't log in on his mobile phone.

What comes next is the kitchen sprinklers. You must've noticed Jaehyun cooks his own food from thereon (the egg incident) and figures out it'll be a good idea to use it against him. Jaehyun didn't see the lack of labels on the sprinklers, and with his hands already memorizing the placement of herbs and spices, Jaehyun grabs what he knows is the right one. Long story short, the prince opts for food delivery as his kimchi jjigae was for the ants. It was like the demon egg all over again, except this time, it was fucking sweet.

3 days later, when Jaehyun's favorite sneakers went missing, he knew he hadn't misplaced them. Is he unlucky that you're out of the city to do your princess duties? Maybe. Is he gonna let this piss him off? No, that means satisfying your goals. This is nothing, Jaehyun can search for it, surely it's somewhere in the house.

Wrong. Well, it is in the area of the house but it's not in the house. Guess where Jaehyun found his fucking sneakers? On the fucking rooftop. How did you even put that there, he doesn't have a clue. In the end, Jaehyun had to climb a ladder and fell once at the third step (he's quite clumsy, yes) before retrieving his shoes.

As Jaehyun sits through a meeting in a stained white (or should he say pink) dress shirt, he is surely determined to get that win back

Acting civil with your fianceé is something you didn't expect after a constant back and forth of ruining each other's day, but you suppose it's only appropriate in a dinner with the family of both sides. Royals like meals as family bonding it seems, not that you know. Or do your parents consider discussing country matters on dinners as one?

Sipping your champagne, you hum quietly at the taste, too busy in your own world to listen to whatever conversation they are having at the other side of the table. That is until your father softly calls your name. You turn to him and pay attention.

''How's your appearances doing so far?''

''Good, I guess..? If it's not, Eunhye won't let me rest for a day or two.''

It's not like the King and Queen only orders you to help in charities and orphanages solely for building a good reputation for you, they also genuinely care about the unfortunate.

''That's great to hear then.'' Queen Miyoung smiles. And even though you're once struck by her beauty, it doesn't sit well with you.

''Hmm?''

What your mother says next emits a confused look from you. ''Prince Jaehyun will be accompanying you in every schedule, especially those that involves the media.''

You frown. ''But I thought it was for my image? Why would I need him to come with me?''

''Because once people see you getting along with your husband, moreover someone known for his kind and compassionate personality, it'll be easier to convince them that you've changed. Prince Jaehyun will be a great help to you.''

Seeing the grin that the man in front of you is not-so trying to hide, you clench your fist around the cutleries. How irritating.

''It was all thanks to the Prince for he voluntarily comes forward to join you on your appearances including those that does not involve medias.''

So the suffering you'll experience for the following weeks was his idea?

Squinting your eyes at the prince, you reach your foot forward, your face remains unchanging. You observe Jaehyun who's happily eating his food for a few seconds before smirking and stomping down on his foot hard enough to make it hard for him to hide his pathetic whimper.

Concern and worries are thrown at him but he dismisses them with his usual flower smile. Jaehyun then looks at you, his eyes diverting your subtly hidden fist, gesturing to punch him as a representative for your irritation at him. Jaehyun tongues his cheek and chuckles. He dares to fucking chuckle?!

Why is he smiling as if he won the olympics? Why is he so smug about this? And more importantly, why is your heart racing as you stare at the dimples shyly peeking out?

You yelp as you accidentally bite your tongue. Before you could even reach for yours, Jaehyun shoves his glass of water to your hands. Everyone is looking at the exchange, you have no choice but to accept his offer. You wanted them to believe this marriage fell apart naturally, and not because you sabotaged it. Though, you plan on doing the latter.

King Jaekyung's snicker rings on your ears. ''Ah, it seems like the two have been getting along. Perhaps the shared apartment was indeed a great idea.''

Your mother follows right after, clapping lightly. ''Right, right. Look at them, treating each other like real lovers. I'm not gonna be surprised if they themselves request for the wedding to be done soon.''

''How lovely. Are you alright though, darling? What has caused you to bite your tongue?'' Queen Miyoung worries.

''It's noth–''

''She was too busy staring at my face, Mom.'' Now, what the flying fuck is this motherfuck trying to play?

Queen Miyoung squeaks. ''Is that so?''

''Yes– my fianceé here even once said I'm too handsome, I could be up as an exhibit in Louvre.''

You give Jaehyun a smile so sarcastic he will know to run for his life the moment you two get out of here. The other people in the room thought it was a smile fondness instead. While Jaehyun sends you a finger heart, you itch to send him the middle finger.

Your mother shares a giggle with Mrs. Jung. ''Ah.. young love.''

Jaehyun earns another stomp.

Days after the dinner with the Kings and Queens sees you and Jaehyun in a kindergarten wearing pink white polka dots aprons. The little humans cheer as their teacher announces that they'll be designing their own cakes today with the help of the visitors. Visitors being you and Jaehyun.

Raising a piece of fruit, you snatch the kids' attention. ''Who wants some strawberries?''

''I want to! I want–!'' Little Seol-a makes grabby hands to you, making you chuckle.

''Okay, okay. Say ah..'' Popping the strawberry in Seol-a's mouth, you receive a cute giggle and 'thank you' from the little girl.

As the teacher announces the start of the making, everyone quickly gets to work, eager to create their most beautiful versions of cakes. Since you also have a cake to decorate, you only look at the kids every now and then, checking up on them. So far, everyone's doing good.

A high-pitched voice calls you. ''Can you please help me with the icing..?''

Smiling, you leave your seat and transfer beside Mina. ''What should we do?''

''I want it pink like Seol-a's, it's so pretty!''

Mina's words pull Seol-a out of her focus, turning to the two of you. Seol-a purses her lips. ''But I'm making it for my mommy. Does your mommy likes pink too?''

Mina looks down and her eyebrows crease in thinking. ''No. My mama likes blue, I think..''

Watching the exchange, you could tell that Seol-a doesn't want to tell Mina off but at the same time, she doesn't want her friend to do exactly the same as she's decorating hers specifically at the thought of her mom.

You decide to step up. ''Then, Mina, would you like yours to be blue?''

Mina ponders for a second before nodding, smiling a bit. ''Okay..''

Seol-a perks up. ''Mina! I'll be pink and yours will be blue, and then let's decorate it the same so our mommies would get matching cakes!''

Mina lights up at what she heard. She will have a matching cake with Seol-a, yet also have her own version. The two girls squeals at the cute teddy bears and gushes over the pastel colors their cakes will be. You smile in adoration.

Minutes pass, little humans ask for your assistance until almost everyone at your table is finished. You feel a tap on your back.

''Hi, Rowoon!''

The chubby boy smiles cutely at you, hugging you. ''Teacher, can you come help me please? Teacher Jaehyun is a bit busy with the others.''

Glancing at Jaehyun, a bunch of kids flock around him, calling his name and asking for his help. It has no sign of dwindling down so you nod, heading towards the boy's place after telling your own group that you'll be at the other table. As you help Rowoon with his cakes, you fail to ignore the conversations he's having with the kids due to the proximity.

''I love chocolates, I eat them everyday! Teacher, do you like chocolates?''

''Yes, of course. Chocolates is one of my favorites.''

''I like chocolate too but my mom won't let me eat more than three. Does your mom let you eat a lot of chocolate, Teacher?''

Jaehyun laughs, shaking his head at the core memory of Queen Miyoung scolding him for eating too much sweets. ''No, she doesn't. Your teeth will turn bad if you eat a lot of it and mommies are just taking care of you.''

''Turn bad? Like fall out–?!''

''Most likely.'' The little boy covers his mouth dramatically, earning another laugh from Jaehyun.

''Teacher! Your cake is so pretty!''

''Why, thank you, Yuna.'' Jaehyun boops her nose with a clean finger.

''You should get an award for having a pretty cake.''

One kid appears. ''My mommy gives me kisses as an award!''

''Me too!''

''Does your mommy gives you kisses too, Teacher?''

What's with these kids and questions about mommies?

''No, she doesn't.''

''Oh no.. is she mad at you?''

Jaehyun giggles. ''She's not. She used to give me kisses but not anymore because I'm a big boy now.''

''Ah, you don't want kisses anymore?''

Thinking he will earn kisses from the little kids if he says no, Jaehyun tells them he loves kisses. Humming, one of them then points a finger.

''Teacher will give you kisses as a reward if your cake is the prettiest!''

Jaehyun follows the path where the kid is pointing at. ''Really?'' His eyes landed on you, still and unmoving. Jaehyun bites his lower lip to stop the laugh rumbling on his chest.

Jaehyun grins. ''Then I should work on making this the prettiest cake ever made.''

You almost choke on your own spit.

Articles after articles, headlines after headlines. Old people gush about how pure your interactions are. Adults nudge each other at how you sweetly stare. Teenagers envies how Jaehyun performs all love language at you. It seems like everything now revolves around the Crown Princess and her lover.

The crowd certainly loves the contrasts between you and Jaehyun whereas you're more carefree and casual while Jaehyun sticks to his formal attitude. One thing that became popular amongst your supporters, or 'shippers', is the picture of you– like the diva that you are– wearing a pink miniskirt, corset top, socks with ribbons on top, mary jane pumps, and a cream loose cardigan sits beside Jaehyun who is dawned in his usual dress shirt, slacks, and blazer. You cannot forget that fanfic you found wherein Jaehyun is a CEO and you're a supermodel. Shippers are imaginative and delusional at the same time.

It's been 2 months since you've started attending events with the prince and it wasn't as hellish as you thought. Maybe because Jaehyun can't cause a problem in public, or maybe he just doesn't find the need to. Nonetheless, that didn't cease the fire that is the prank war. It goes on and on that even Winter finds it hilarious at this point. Who knew the lovely couple searched for a list of pranks to do in their free time so they could piss each other off?

Lately though, you've noticed (actually it was Winter) that your pranks have been getting less harmful to your daily lives and had just become something to enlighten the mood. Like the clown that pops up when you open the fridge and the snake balloon hidden in the tin can. Very uncharacteristically, you even find yourselves posting each other's reactions on your stories. And if Jaehyun created an instagram account just to upload videos and pictures of you, you're not so sure. A thing you're certain though is that the dislike for Jaehyun had faded away and was replaced by something else. Something you're yet to find out.

''A penny for your thoughts?'' A finger snaps you out of your thoughts. Jaehyun grins.

You shake your head and continue looking for the best quality of vegetables as Jaehyun follows you around, pushing your cart. Another thing that you've grown to get used to is doing groceries with Jaehyun. Very domestic, isn't it?

''Can we buy this one?'' Jaehyun points at the packs of big marshmallows.

Frowning, you shake your head. ''What're you gonna need it for? It'll just expired at the cabinet.''

''No, it won't.''

''How so?''

''I'll eat it before you can even say chubby bunny.''

''No, Jeong.''

''But we have a mini chocolate fountain machine at home!''

''Yes, a fountain machine you, may I say–'' You face him. ''–unnecessarily bought. Literally no reason to buy one.''

''Well now I can finally use it and it won't be useless anymore..?''

Tsking, you walk away to look at the meat. In the end, Jaehyun huffs, staring longingly at his marshmallows before tailing you, steps heavy.

After shopping for at most 2 weeks worth of food, you type on your phone while Jaehyun carries all those bags. So much for being a macho man. Winter sends an atrocious idea and forces a laugh out of you.

''What's funny?'' Jaehyun asks like a curious cat, peeking at your phone.

''Winter says we should announce that all of this is fake at the upcoming press conference and film Eunhye's reaction. God, that would be hilarious honestly.''

''Oh..'' And curiosity finally kills the cat. Jaehyun mums. Are you faking it all this time? Are you not enjoying your time with him? Are you faking having fun whenever you're with him, even now?

You are about to ask Jaehyun for the car keys but as someone who spends their entire life under the spotlight, you know a camera when you see one. Pocketing your phone, you stride towards the man at the car beside Jaehyun's. Said man tries to run away but you are quicker with your feet and grab him by his collar, you hear Jaehyun's call of your name.

''What's wro–''

''Give me the phone.''

''Why– what's happeni–''

''Give me the fucking phone!'' Shoving the man to a car, he winces at the pain in his back. When he surrenders his phone, you delete his video and throw it on the ground before stomping on it, crashing it.

Jaehyun calls your name again. ''Why did you do that? Stop, you're choking him.''' Though obviously wanting to calm you down, Jaehyun doesn't touch you anywhere, opting to wash his palm over his face.

You ignore him and focus on the man shivering in your hold. ''Tell me, what the fuck do want?''

''Nothing–''

You dig your forearm deeper to his neck. ''I'm only gonna ask this twice, you fucking twig. What do you want?''

The man struggles to breathe but attempts to answer anyway. ''I–I was.. paid to–'' He wheezes. ''To prove t-that.. Prince Jaehyun isn't what– what he pretends to be.'' The man coughs.

Raising a brow at what you hear, you wrap your hand around his throat and lean closer to his ear. ''Listen here, fucking microphallus. I know this fucker here looks like he's a worldwide known actor but in reality, he can't act for his fucking life. This man doesn't have a fucking future in acting. He can't fake anything, he's too goody shoes. This prince can't do a thing except entertaining the fucking crowd.''

He is genuine and is not pretending in front of the cameras. Is what Jaehyun can hear between your lines.

''So if you're thinking of exposing him and shit– too bad for you, Jeong lives his life by the books.''

Sighing, Jaehyun tugs at your shirt. ''Let's.. let's let him go. He said he was just paid to do it, didn't he?''

Glancing at the prince, you could see the stress on his irritatingly handsome face and annoyingly, you find yourself to hate the foreign emotion on it. Clicking your tongue, you let go of the man but grips his collar again before he can get away. ''Spread misinformations about my fianceé again, you'll be caressing metal bars the next day.''

Jaehyun holds your hand to take it away from the man and fixes his mask. ''Sir, you can send your resumé at the palace and you should be offered a job with monthly payment. Please don't ever damage someone for the sake of quick money. Money wears off in time, but the damage doesn't.''

With that, Jaehyun tugs you away from the scene. During the ride, silence fills the car and as you arrive at the apartment, that's when you realize Jaehyun's hand is still intertwined with you from the moment he holds it until you reach the flat. Why does Jaehyun look like it's the most normal thing? Why is your heart doing the fucking rabbity pumps?

Jaehyun heaves a sigh. ''Damn.. that's actually crazy– I can't even believe it happened. It went by so fast, my brain couldn't process the fact that someone believes I fake my personality and manners in front of the camera. Like–''

You plop to the couch.

''–what did I even do? Did I upset them? Did they say hi to me one time and I didn't say it back? Did they–''

''I punched the guy because I wanted to protect my friend.''

Jaehyun stops arranging the items you bought. ''What–?''

Hugging your knees, you keep your eyes on Jaehyun's. ''It was my friend's birthday and she wanted to celebrate it in this bar, it was called gangbang. Controversial, I know. We were having fun just like we planned to. But a group of guys at the other table starts joining in. We weren't paying attention to them– or at least, I wasn't. But one of my friends starts complaining about how one of the guys 'accidentally' brushes his hand on her ass too many times. Accidental, my ass. No one wants to come forward so I did, being the hero that I am. I talked to the guy calmly and asked what's wrong. Said guy told me my friend was lying but fuck– my friend was this close to crying about it. And then I got pissed at how his friends defends him when the CCTV clearly shows the incident so I fucking punched him and broke his nose.''

''Next thing I know, news outlets reports me getting involved in a brawl and ruining a fucking commoner's nose without including the reason why I did it.'' You scoff. ''Said friend I protected refused a statement and left the country without defending me.''

Jaehyun sits at the carpeted floor, facing you, looking with worry in his eyes. Something in your eyes flashes but disappears before Jaehyun could even determine what it is.

''And the pictures of me sleeping on the streets?''

Jaehyun hums, caressing your hands.

''They told everyone I was so fucking drunk I couldn't even bring myself home and showed videos of me chugging vodkas, whiskeys, beers straight from their bottle. But why didn't they show the part where all those fucking people around me gangs up on me and calls me a fucking pussy, a no fun, and a fucking killjoy. They didn't stop until I agreed on drinking all those fucking liqours.'' You sniffs, you didn't even know when you started tearing up.

''And that video where my bodyguard had to carry me because I wouldn't wake up? The palace was on emergency alert at that time– why? Because alcohol and sleeping pills were mixed inside me. When I tried to explain what happened, no one fucking believed someone slipped me a fucking bunch of sleeping pills– my heartbeat was fucking slowing down and I was over-sedated, Jaehyun. There's no point of telling them the truth when they already decided I was fucking lying. For fuck's sake, I was near to dying that fucking night– god!'' You bury your head in your knees, shoulders shaking as you sob, fist continuously knocking your head hard.

Jaehyun hugs your quivering figure, whispering words that he knows best that'll comfort and calm you. ''I understand you. I believe you. It's okay, love. You're gonna be okay. I'm here, alright? I'm here, love. Everything's gonna be okay.''

Your cries haven't even died down when you look at him. Jaehyun thinks vulnerability was the flickering emotions behind your eyes these past minutes that he failed to catch on.

''Aside from the people who did those shits, Winter is the only one who knows about the truth. Because she's important to me.'' You hiccup, tears streaming down your face. ''Do you get why I'm telling you this, Jeong?''

There's a clue, but Jaehyun doesn't want to get ahead of you. ''..why?''

You chuckle while crying, more tears roll down your cheeks. ''God, you're so fucking stupid, aren't you? Winter is important to me so she knows the truth. I told you the truth because–'' You bow your head down and hold Jaehyun's hands. ''–you're more than just important to me.''

Jaehyun's breath hitches, and the world stops. ''Oh baby..'' He kisses the back of your hands and the top of your head before hugging you tightly.

He attempts to say the words that have been at the tip of his tongue since you decorated cakes with the kids but you cut him off.

''I will hurt you, Jeong, accidentally. I don't communicate. I don't open up. I find it hard to trust people easily despite sharing a close bond with them. I curse more than I say affectionate and loving words. I push away more than I pull. I'm violent. I am broken, I'm a mess.''

Jaehyun smiles, so handsomely it makes your heart ache. ''You don't communicate and open up? That's fine, I can read between your lines. You find it hard to trust people? That's alright, trusts are earned, not bought. You curse more than being lovey dovey? Well, I'm lovey dovey more than cursing. You push more than you pull? Isn't it great that I'm the exact opposite. You're violent? I could do the talking, you could do the punching. You're broken? I will patch you up again and again. You're a mess? So what, you're a beautiful kind of mess. And if you hurt me and wound my heart.. well then– Sorry, Heart.''

Right there and then, the faceless man that you saw at the bar and had a crush on morphs with Jaehyun's. You chuckle. ''Fate is playing with us, isn't it?''

Jaehyun cradles your face. ''And I'm glad it did. Because I met you.''

''You're such a sap.''

''Oh shush, you love it.''

''Maybe, maybe not.''

''Pfft, wait– does this mean we stop the pranks now?''

''Do what the hell you want, but you'll continuing to be pissed off first thing in the morning.''

Operation: Stop the wedding! Step 3, fall in love with your soon-to-be-groom.

A shudder electrifies the fibers of your body as Jaehyun spreads the cold juices of peaches along the lines of your collarbone, his tongue dips in next, easing to freezing temperature with his warmth. He sucks where the sticky liquid lays previously, his cravings of sweetness beaming in glee as the flavor slowly seeps in him.

Your breath heavy, hands moving to caress your boyfriend's blond strands as his kisses travel to your breasts. The flesh of the fruit circles your nipples before Jaehyun dives in, sucking the hard nubs all the while fondling and playing with the other. Quiet moans of pleasure finally escape your lips after minutes of holding back, your head lolls back and your eyes close shut, sighing from the pleasure slowly building up. Slurping sounds bounces off the four walls of your shared bedroom, it's so obscene that anyone who could hear it could certainly feel how hungry Jaehyun is for the mixture of the peach's sweetness and the bits of saltiness coming from your sweat. It's disgusting to think but Jaehyun's cock gets only harder with each taste.

The surface of his hand palms your clothed core, thumbing where he's sure your clit settles and gives the area a slight pressure, he makes circles around the button that elicits a series of whimpers from you.

Fuck. How he wishes to see this image of you everytime. Your glossy eyes, puckered swollen slips, and whole face scrunched up as your body shivers in his hold, back arching as pleas of having him inside you draws out.

Break me, wreck me, ruin me. Those are everything your body screams.

Oh, he will ruin you, alright.

Jaehyun rips the remaining pieces of clothing off of you, gripping your legs apart, wide and open just for him. The way your pussy glistens under the dim lights of the room, the prince's lust fuels up until he could no longer bear the desire of devouring you.

His mouth, his tongue, his body, his mind -- screams for your taste, it craves the feeling of you thrashing against his embrace as you fall apart. And Jaehyun.. he's just a man. One who could only do much to control himself from drowning his face in the sea of tempting your slick.

''Ooh, Jaehyun, please..'''

From the alley your legs created, you are able to see Jaehyun's face and how his brow quirks in question to your plea. He's so fucking cruel, unlike the gentleman and polite prince everyone in your country had loved since the beginning. If they only know.

The pad of his tongue follows the traces of your juice, squeezing the last bits of the peach and lets it trickle down on your pussy. Dipping the tip of his tongue, he wiggles it until he's deep inside your warm tight walls, clenching on his muscle as he fucks you with it.

''Jaehyun–! Fuck!''

Your hips jerks upwards, practically offering your core to Jaehyun's face. That, Jaehyun accepts. Gripping each thigh, he pins you to the bed as he sucks, licks, and devours more than you offer.

Jaehyun's fingers join his tongue, squelches emitting from your soaked pussy as Jaehyun's digits continuously penetrate it. By the time Jaehyun is about to add the fourth finger, he sees your eyes rolling and notices the constant clenches of your walls– a telltale sign of your climax. And Jaehyun isn't Jaehyun if not a bastard in bed.

He pulls away before walking away to fetch something, all the while unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. Jaehyun reaches the foot of your bed, he tugs his pants and boxers down, revealing a girthy and lengthy dick with an angry tip.

Jaehyun pumps his cock, staring at your sore pussy and fucked out face. Your breathlessness is music to his ears.

''Jaehyun, please..''

''Please?''

You open your legs wider, hands dipping between your legs to spread the cheeks of your pussy. ''It's all yours. Please, fuck me.''

''Fucking hell..'' Jaehyun nudges your legs open as you both moan in unison as his cock pushes past your entrance, veins rubbing against the tight velvet walls. Jaehyun plans to wait for you to adjust, but you shake your head. He smirks, and starts fucking.

''My girl is getting brave, huh? Let's how much you can fucking take.''

God, this is why you love Jaehyun in bed. This is the only time you hear him curse, be rough, and manhandle you in positions you didn't even know you're capable of doing.

You ask for it hard, and Jaehyun gives it every time. Wrapping his hand under your knee, he folds your body until it touches your chest as Jaehyun slides deeper, reaching deep inside you that a bump appears every now and then on your stomach.

''Fuck– do you see that, baby? Look at your stomach, shit, it's bulging. Am I too big for your tight pussy, baby?''

Jaehyun pins you against the headboard with his weight as drools escape the corners of your lips, dribbling down your neck. You grip the top of the headboard for support.

''Ah ah ah! S-so good.. so good!''

Jaehyun chuckles lowly. ''Does it, baby? Tell me what makes you feel good.''

''Y–your big–big cock! Fuck, i-it's so, haahh, so big!''

''That's right. My big fat cock is making my girl feel so good; she can't even construct a proper sentence. Do you know how that makes me fucking feel, baby? I feel like a fucking king, you know. Crown Princess, fucking feisty and always hissing at everyone, crumbling down at the feeling of my cock at her guts.''

Jaehyun plows into you deliciously, white spots showing themselves at different parts of your vision as pleasure takes over your body. ''You're so fucking tight, baby. You're choking me.''

Yelping, you hold onto Jaehyun as he withdraws from your pussy, carrying you as he transfers you to the glass window near the bed, pushing you against it before he starts pounding vigorously once again, teeth sinking to break your skin, lapping the droplets of blood. Lewd moans knock out of your throat. Seeing your reflection from the window, you're reminded of those pornos you've watched as a curious teen.

''Jaehyun– uh, uh, Jaehyun! You're gonna make me come!''

''Then come. Come for me, darling.''

You white out, shuddering in Jaehyun's hold as you clamp down on his cock, white ring appearing around his length. Jaehyun buries his head in the crook of your neck as he chases his own high, groaning as he finally reaches it, pulling out to finish himself on your back.

As a minute passes, you both regain the air your lungs have been desperately needing. Jaehyun makes you face him and kisses your lips full of gentleness, so in contrast to the rough pounding earlier.

And of course, Jaehyun isn't Jaehyun if not a sap after sex.

''I love you so much, baby.''

You snort. ''I do too, idiot. Now clean me up.''

Operation: Stop the wedding! Step 4, abort mission.

Come morning, the sunlight seeps through the curtains and shines on your bed beautifully. Jaehyun wakes up, his day already made at the sight of you sleeping peacefully in his arms. You look adorable, like you couldn't harm a fly. You wouldn't if said fly doesn't harm any of your loved ones.

God, Jaehyun is so fucking in love with you. You smile, his day is made. You breathe, suddenly the weather is perfect. You exist, Jaehyun finds every reason to live. You are the water that keeps Jaehyun tethered.

''What the fuck do you want, Jeong?''

The prince chuckles. 8am in the morning and you're already so grumpy. It confuses a few staff members how Jaehyun fell in love with you. If he won't get in trouble, he'll tell them you're a witch and make him drink some irreversible love potion or what.

''Nothing. You're pretty.''

''... Shut up. Just because you look fucking good in the morning.''

''Thank you, baby. I love you.''

''Ugh, you're too in love with me.''

Jaehyun giggles. ''I am. Will you marry me?''

You stop yawning and look at him as though he grew a second head (or third..?). ''The fuck did you say?''

''Will you marry me, baby?''

You scoff. ''Ask that again if you have a ring to out around me.'' The words are mumbled but Jaehyun manages to hear it.

''What?''

''I said your breath stinks, Jeong.''

Shaking his head in disbelief, Jaehyun laughs deeply, caused by his morning voice. You find that hot but you won't te him because he'll use it against you everytime.

Jaehyun reaches for something behind him, inside the drawer, and faces you again. There you see a small red box on his palm, Jaehyun opens it and reveals the ring you've once mentioned to be your dream ring. Wordlessly, he slips the ring on your finger after taking off the fake one.

''But we're already engaged though.''

''Eh.. that was fake, baby. This one's real.''

You raise a brow. ''I haven't even said yes.''

''You'll say no to me?''

''Pfft, you're getting too cocky. I don't like that.''

''Hmm, sure, love.'' Jaehyun smiles warmly and takes you in his arms again. You bury your head in his chest.

''Jeong,''

Jaehyun hums.

''I hate you for making me feel this way.''

Jaehyun settles his hands on the sides of your face and caresses your cheeks with his thumbs. ''I love you too, witch.''

''Psst,''

''What now, baby?''

''I love you, Jaehyun.''

Operation: Stop the wedding! Step 5 and the last step, be in love and marry each other for real.

3K notes · View notes

keresnotceres · 1 year

Text

Good, Good, Great

Ghost x Fem!Reader (And they were roommates)!

[nsfw] cw(s): Jealousy, alcohol consumption, references to smoking, strip club, rdr calls ghost ‘big boy’ several times, suggestive content, non-explicit sex (it’s mentioned), rdr is highkey a brat lol, mention of dumbification.

PART TWO

3.4k words I don’t understand how UK currency works so i guessed, ALSO! Reader is kind of a slut!! Because we don’t get enough readers that have BEEN AROUND TOWN (iykwim) and I am hellbent on fixing that :) ALSO ALSO this kinda sucks and it’s prolly OOC but I spent like four days on it so here u go <33

You’re not dating — but he’s not keen on sharing. He sees you serving another table drinks, scantily dressed, hips swaying with every step, and can’t help but watch with a glare as some other man sets a 20 between your tits.

How Laswell convinced both herself and Price that a strip club was the best place to meet and discuss information on a new mission was beyond Ghost. It wasn’t until two blocks away from the venue did he begin to recognize the surroundings, the streets, and damn it, even the people.

He forwent the skull mask and the skull-patterned balaclava for a plain black surgical mask that left him feeling bare and exposed. Only a thin piece of fabric was between him and his anonymity; two strings that held together the Ghost façade from falling into Simon.

He’d be damned if he told the others that he recognized the club — that he frequented it. Not for a certain stripper, no, not for the girls performing at all. He knew every staff member from the amount of times he’d come to pick you up after your serving shift.

You always smelled like alcohol and someone’s blueberry vape, sometimes weed; you claimed that just came with the job. He’d respond asking if he smelled like gunpowder and metal, if that was the case. He remembered how you shook your head.

“You smell like cigarettes and aftershave.”

He grimaces as they approach the shining lights of the club. Myth is a looming building; five floors, only two used for actual club affairs. The other three were offices or something equally as boring; even if you would prattle on about your outlandish suspicions of a mafia being run up there.

The first floor had the basics; a main stage that was across from the full bar, a plethora of sleek tables and uncomfortable leather chairs filling the space between the two attractions. On the far wall, a few booths with itchy velour couches separated by fake bushes. Doors sat on either side of the four booths, both led to some sort of VIP room that Ghost had never stepped foot in.

The second floor overlooked the stage section of the first, only the dancers could see the people decorating the steel railings. It was usually reserved for the rich people, the important men who had had wives and didn’t want to be seen in the public eye, the men who were desperate enough to pay extra to pretend they could get some, and the people staff liked. Ghost happens to fit into the latter category.

There was a second stage on the upper floor, it wasn’t often dancers were up there performing, they were usually lounging around with someone they knew would paid them well. The was a second, smaller bar which served the singular purpose of storing new bottles, which caused you to complain about having to go up and down the stairs every time you had to get another round for a table.

His constant presence had led to him “befriending” the bartenders (if getting a free drink counted as being friends) and getting half-hired as security (he was roughly the same size as the men they already had for the job), even the hostesses knew to assign him to your section each time he walked in.

It baffled him, to say the least. Even after he was gone for 11 months the one time, (what a god awful time that was), the Myth staff knew who he was.

Ghost didn’t even register Price trying to tell him to stop as he walked to the shiny glass doors of Myth. The thing that dragged him out of an absentminded state was Soap’s obnoxiously loud laughter, Ghost stopped dead in his tracks and spun around to face the rest of the task force.

“Yae walkin’ right in like ye own the place, eh, Lt?” He had a conniving grin on his face. “Didnae take you for that kinda guy.” Gaz looked like he was trying to picture Ghost in a club, Price only looked at him with mild amusement on his face.

Ghost glares at Soap, embarrassed. “I’m going where we were told to go.”

“Wasting no time, either.” Gaz manages to crack a smile from Price with his chide.

“Are we going in, or not?” Ghost’s eyebrows raise in questioning, his patience already running thin. He looked over his shoulder at the bouncer, who he wishes he didn’t recognize as Paul.

Gaz had already fished his ID out of his pockets, the graying white background of the Royal Air Force card reflecting the sign lights. Soap wasn’t far behind him, most people who see someone with a mohawk assume it’s a teenager who lost a bet. Anyone could look at the Captain and know he’s over the age of 18, no college student could rival the man’s facial hair.

And Ghost? All he had to do was look Paul in the eyes and he was let though without even a second glance. It was no different than if he were just coming in to pick you up, although it was considerably earlier than your usual 2 AM clock outs. Ghost forgot the club was even open at 5 PM.

He got an odd look from Soap at the lack of identification, but odd looks from Soap were a daily occurance.

The club looked the exact same as when he’d left 4 months ago, the same blue-purple lighting, same ugly silver bead curtains hanging over the walls, and the same Thursday night bartender. His name was something along the lines of Tony (Tim?); Ghost hadn’t particularly cared about him, he’s never at the club on Thursdays anyway. Your shifts are normally on the weekends, only the occasional Thursday if there was an event.

The hostess seems to be familiar, too. She’s either Camille or Angelica; he could never really remember who was who. The two have the same bleach blonde, blue eyes, and freckles; they’re practically the same person to Ghost. He really only pays attention to you when he’s at Myth.

The hostess stares at Ghost for a second, as if trying to recognize him. Before she could try to speak, Price cut in.

“We’re meeting someone here. Blonde hair, a little older.” His eyes scan the half-empty floor of the room. “She might be upstairs?”

The hostess perks up at the mention of a woman. “Right. Follow me, please.”

The blonde led the group of them upstairs, two of the 20 tables had people at them. Only one of them had a Laswell-looking woman at them. The other was a group of seven men; each in a suit, and each with a glass in their hand.

Once the hostess set a few menus on the table, she spoke a final time. “Your server will be right over.”

Ghost let the others sit down before him, eyes lingering on the group of men across from them before they slid over to Laswell. She looked as comfortable as any other person in a strip club by choice, lounging back in her chair with a cocktail in her hand.

“You look disgruntled,” she notes, eyes resting on Ghost.

“You had us meet in a strip club,” Ghost mutters. “This isn’t my usual scene.” It was quite the lie, really. He’s spent more time here than any other pub in the Manchester area at this point.

“It’s close to home.” She takes a sip of her drink, completely at peace. “And it’s unsuspecting. Who comes into a strip club to talk about top secret information?”

Ghost looks at her, unamused. “Us.”

Laswell ignores the distaste in his voice. “You don’t have to worry about that group,” her head tilts in the direction of the rowdy group of men. “They’re all drunk or too focused on the girls to even bother listening to us.”

The distant sound of heels against the floor catches his attention, his eyes fly towards the staircase. And there you are, flouncing up the stairs with three glasses in one hand and a bottle of Blue Label in the other.

You make your way to the group of men, a customer service smile plastered on your face. Ghost can’t hear your words, but he watches you set the bottle down in front of the most important-looking man, along with two of the glasses you were carrying.

He watches as your shoulders bounce when you laugh at something he says, though it looks like the fakest giggle you can muster.

He watches as the man takes a 20 pound note from his pocket and tucks it right between your tits. On instinct, Ghost’s hands tighten into fists and he glares. It’s a sharp glare, one he’d give to some idiot recruit that tried being cocky. You gasp, then smile brightly at the man, he can tell you’re saying thank you profusely from the way your mouth is moving.

You step away from the man and Ghost’s eyes fly from him to you, and his glare drops into a normal enough look, but his fists are still tight; his fingernails dig into the palms of his hands.

Ghost’s eyes roam your body, how the little black skirt you’re wearing rode up just enough that it would be considered a tease, how the black shirt you’re wearing is just a little too tight around your tits, and the 20 pound note that was stuck right between the two of them. He had to consciously unclench his fist before anyone would notice.

Then you come prancing over, hips swaying almost hypnotically as you walk, a glass of bourbon nestled in your hand.

You smile sweetly as you bend down in front of him, showing off both your tits and the note right between them, and set his glass on the table.

“I believe that’s for you, big boy.” Fuck, he missed hearing your voice, the nickname flies over his head through his stupor. Even if it was the faux, sultry version of it you used for work. “Can I get the rest of you anything? A beer? Whiskey?”

It was almost impossible for Ghost to tear his eyes away from you, rather, that damn note between your breasts. He wanted to pluck it out and throw it right back at the other man, replace it with something bigger, better.

When he notices Gaz’s disturbed stare, his eyes avert from you.

Gaz’s eyes trail from his to yours, “I’ll take a Manhattan.”

You smile at him, “of course, is Sazerzac okay?” Gaz nods shortly, glancing away from you to avoid Ghost’s stare. “Anyone else?” You pivot towards Price, shifting your weight from one leg to the other.

Price angles his head to meet your gaze, squinting through the LEDs of the club. “Gin and tonic,” his eyes don’t leave yours, “Hendrick’s.” An offhand comment from Soap entertains the liquor’s Scottish origins.

You nod along with his words, then tilt your head towards Soap. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’ll have a Coke.”

“I hope you mean the soda,” you muse. You didn’t get any reaction out of the group, not a single smile — how disappointing. “We have the cherry kind, if you’re into that.”

Soap shakes his head, a small frown on his face. “Just normal Coke’ll do.”

You hum absentmindedly, “alright.” Your eyes flicker to Ghost, the smile on your face contorts into a little mischievous one. “Are you going to be wanting the bottle, Simon?”

You really are a vixen, aren’t you? Through grit teeth, Ghost spits out, “no.”

“Alright, then. I’ll be back with those drinks, boys.” A single wink, and you were off. Low heels clacking against the tile floor, hips swaying side to side. Ghost was all too aware of every detail of your retreating body, from the way your hair bounced with each step you took, how the skirt you wore rode up just slightly enough to make his grip on his bourbon tighten.

Ghost fights the urge to get up, grab you by the waist, and pull you onto him. Both his experiences and his logical reasoning say it’s a terrible idea, yet the idea of reminding you who you ultimately belong to is so enticing he could be drooling.

He’s seen you cockdumb; it almost always comes after you pull a stunt like this. Of course, he knows you do it just for the sake of getting him bothered and getting fucked stupid. But he also likes the idea that you do it just for him. You put on a little show.

He finally put it together years ago. Back when you would bring over some pathetic-looking hookup just to see his reaction. When you’d fake moan loud enough for the whole damn neighborhood to hear, then look at him the next morning through your eyelashes all innocent.

At some point, the hookups ended, and you began flirting with customers right in front of him. Just like you had done a moment before.

When your head disappears from view, Soap is the first to attack him vocally, almost gawking after you. “You’re on a first name basis with the bottle girls at a strip club?” He looks incredulously at Ghost, almost jealous.

“Is that why you were in such a hurry to get inside? You knew this was where your flings worked?”

Soap leans in closer, “how often do you come here, LT?” It was question after question from the Scotsman, and despite his inclination towards him, Ghost was getting slowly more fed up.

Ghost set his glass down, “I’m going to the bathroom.” He put his hands to his knees and stood up from the plush seat, eyes scanning the other group one more time before he left his teammates at the table.

It doesn’t take long for him to find you, leaning up against the doorframe to the server’s closet while you wait for another cocktail server to put in a ticket, twiddling your coworker’s Elfbar in your hands until she reaches behind her for the vape.

You hand it off to her and turn to face Ghost, a catty smile adorning your lips. “How can I help you, sir?” Ghost stops a few inches before you and a hand darts towards your cleavage. He tugs the 20 pound note from between your tits, your hands following his to grab for it.

You give Ghost several noises of grievances as he holds the note away from you, a look of slight disgust evident in the ways his eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed.

By the time you gave up trying to reach the banknote, he’d begun digging in his back pocket. “I’d like my tip back, asshole.”

Ghost says nothing in return, no noise or gesture to acknowledge he had heard you. Instead, he tugs a 20 and a 50 pound note from his pocket and tuck the two bills into the space between your breasts. The money from the other man was crumpled and shoved back into his pocket.

You don’t stop him, you’re a bit too turned on to even think of stepping away from him.

“There,” he mutters. “your tip.” He steps back from you, like he was going to leave and go back to his table. You, however, were having none of that.

“Hold on.” Your hand twitches, stopping before it could shoot out to grab his wrist (but you’re smarter than that, you know him). “You didn’t call or anything.”

Ghost frowns under the mask. “I’m not home.” It was a clipped reply, not one you wanted.

“What?” You match his frown, annoyed.

“I’m here for work. You saw the others,” his hand gestures vaguely to the upstairs, “they’re my coworkers.”

You raise an eyebrow, “you work with someone who has a mohawk?” Disappointment flickers in Ghost’s eyes, if it was from your question or just the thought of Soap’s haircut, you didn’t know. The poor man isn't even there to defend himself.

“Is it that hard to believe?” Ghost knows that, yes, it is hard to believe that he worked with a Scotsman with a terrible haircut while continuing to be the infamous Lieutenant ‘Ghost.’

The look on your face screams ‘yes.’

Ghost relents, “listen.” His voice has a certain sadness in it that makes you calm down a bit. Truthfully, you’re pretty damn pissed at him for just showing up out of the blue from God-knows-where, but your expression softens after a few seconds.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Riley.” Your coworker nudges your shoulder to let you know it was your turn to use the kiosk. “Go back to your friends,” you wave your hand in a dismissive fashion. “I’m working.”

Ghost doesn’t budge, even after you’ve ducked between the bead curtains that dangle at the top half of the doorway. You pop back out of the doorway, an unsurprised look on your face.

“Don’t flirt with him.”

Your eyebrows fly up, an incredulous tone flooding your voice. “What?”

“Don’t flirt with him,” Ghost repeats, his eyes boring into yours.

You set a hand on your hip, annoyed. “I’m making money.” The look in his eyes doesn’t change, he’s utterly serious about some random man you’re flirting with for extra cash. A thought crosses your mind, and your annoyance melts into mischief.

“You’re jealous over him?” The way his eyes widen a bit is enough to tell you that, yeah, he is. “Really, big boy?”

And fuck, if you didn’t have him wrapped around your finger by the way you walked, you had him now. All it took was one stupid nickname and Ghost is crumbling into Simon.

“Not jealous,” is his defense. You just soak it in with a grin on your face. You step towards him a little, shoulders forward and leaning down ever so slightly so that your cleavage is a little more obvious, so that the money he stuck between your tits is poking right out at him.

“You sure?” You look up at him, still grinning like your coworker once had when she got a free vape from a customer. “Seems like you’re a bit jealous.”

All he can do is stare down at you, clenching his jaw shut lest he say something he really shouldn’t. But God, does he wish he could.

Really, if it weren’t only 5 PM, he would’ve let you get to him. Let you drag him into an empty VIP room and fuck your words right out of you, leaving you a whimpering, babbling mess. But Ghost — Simon — knows better than to incapacitate you when you’re working.

All he’s left to do is watch as you give him little smirks from across the room, as you adjust your clothes to be just a bit more revealing, as you get close enough that he can smell the remnants of your perfume when you ask him aimless questions. And that’s just what he’ll do once you prance off to get his teammates drinks.

You pat him on his covered cheek patronizingly before you slink away, outstretching your hands for the three drinks cluttered at one side behind the bar. You pass him by, drinks in hand.

“If anything,” you look up to his eyes as you pass him, “it’s the guys you’re with you should be jealous of. You know I like older guys.” That’s enough for Simon to be reclaimed by Ghost.

He follows after you, glowering at your back. You don’t have to look back at him to know he’s scowling at you, but it brings you a slight bit of satisfaction.

“C’mon, big boy,” you hum, “I’ll get you another drink if you tell me his name.” You look back at him once you reach the staircase and climb a few steps ahead of him.

Ghost stares into your eyes like a dead man, you almost think you’ve gone a bit too far. “No.”

You give him an exaggerated pout and turn back to the front to see where you’re going. “If you aren’t jealous, you shouldn’t have a problem with it.”

“No,” he huffs, irritation growing steadily. “Ask again and I’ll have your head.”

You quicken your pace on the last few steps, skirt bouncing from the motion; Ghost doesn’t bother to look away. He follows you back to the table where Laswell and the others are chatting quietly.

You lean down to set the drinks on the table, and Ghost takes his chance. His hands hover around your hips, bulge brushing against your ass as he moves behind you to sit down in his seat.

“Sorry,” he muses in the most unapologetic tone you’ve ever heard from him. It’s Simon’s eyes that look into yours, like a challenge. A really, really horny challenge. “Had to get past you.”

#cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley fanfic #fem reader #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x female reader #cod fic #mw2 fic #mw2 x you #mw2 smut #mw2 x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #simon ghost riley smut

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badbtssmut · 14 days

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Kinktober Masterlist!

Day 1 to 10

🎃 Succubus hotline; one lonely halloween, you try out your luck by calling the succubus hotline, thinking it’s just a silly prank.

🎃 Naughty but mine; when you misbehave at a house party, your boyfriend Taehyung gives you exactly what you’ve been asking for.

🎃 Highly inappropriate; you, your friend and her boyfriend are a bit too out of it when you try her boyfriend’s cock.

🎃 Babymaker; you want a baby, but you just broke up with your boyfriend... but luckily your friend Jungkook is here to save the day.

🎃 Special preparations; you go to a piercing shop to get a clit piercing but your piercer Jungkook has an interesting way of prepping his clients.

🎃 Scream; your boyfriend Taehyung dresses up as your favorite character from the movie scream.

🎃 Silent watch; your bodyguard Jimin is standing right outside your bedroom door when you moan his name as you play with yourself.

🎃 Their pleasure; your only job is to serve Taehyung and his wife.

🎃 A special class; you bring your best friend Taehyung to a special class.

🎃 Teach me; you want to learn how to give blowjobs so you ask your best friend’s brother Taehyung to teach you.

Day 10 to 20

🎃 Like old times; in the past, you and your best friend enjoy spending time together by having threesomes, now years later you reconnect and this time she offers her husband Jungkook.

🎃 Good at sharing; your boyfriend Jimin invites you over for movie night, however it becomes painfully clear that his roommate Jungkook has a crush on you.

🎃 Strictly business; your boyfriend Taehyung might be a tough and important guy at the office but at home he's just a subby boy who only wants cuddles and finds comfort in your nipples.

🎃 All onboard; when pirate Jungkook wants you, he wants you right now, even if it’s in front of the sailor men on his ship.

🎃 Told you so; your friends don’t believe you when you brag to them about how Jungkook’s dick makes you see stars, so you show them.

🎃 Waves of pleasure; you meet a blonde hunk named Taehyung at the beach who invites you over to his van for some special alone time.

🎃 Give it to me now; angry about your doctoral thesis, you decide to decompress on your gamer boyfriend Jungkook’ cock.

🎃 Code blue; your friend with benefits Jungkook had a horrible first date so you milk him dry until he forgets all about her.

🎃 Wet deck; on a yacht with the maknae line, you start fucking them— not caring who sees.

🎃 Seven minutes; Taehyung and Jungkook send you to heaven in a spooky encounter at your neighbour’s Halloween party.

Day 20 to 31

🎃 Knock out; after winning his last fight and being sexless for a week, Jungkook gives his girlfriend the most hardcore fuck ever.

🎃 Please please please; your needy and whiny boyfriend Jungkook begs you to ride him while he cannot stop praising you.

🎃 VIP treatment; every concert, Hybe staff search for the sexiest big tits and ass fan, to bring to the green room for a fun time with Taehyung and his friends.

🎃 Sweet revenge; after your husband cheats on you, you decide to take revenge by sleeping with father-in-law jungkook.

🎃 Halloween party; after being invited by your friend to the 18+ Halloween party in town, you get fucked by three hot guys.

🎃 Make me see stars; your friends bring you to a special show starring stripper Jimin, but you get more than a lapdance from him on stage.

🎃 Admit it; your friends get tired of seeing you and Jungkook beat around the bush, so they give you a little push.

🎃 Mr perfect; you test out the hyper realistic humanoid robot named Jungkook you and your research team have created, it’s all for science, right?

🎃 A special party; when your friends organize a surprise bachelorette party you did not expect to get railed by stripper Jungkook.

🎃 She a fan; idol Jungkook takes a girl home and to his surprise, she has the logo of his group tattooed on her arm.

🎃 This is not a drill; your boyfriends are back from military service and you’re eager to catch up what they missed.

#divider by strangergraphics #bts smut #bts x reader #bts requests #bts smut requests #bts fanfic #bts smut fanfic #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #jimin smut #kinktober #bts kinktober #bts smut story

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buckets-and-trees · 21 days

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Now That I Saw You

Characters/Pairings: lawyer!Bucky x curvy!female assistant reader Word Count: 4k Summary: Finally home from the work trip to Norway where things changed with your boss, you are uncertain about what the future means exactly, but eager to see him again. Sequel to What You Want.

Content Warnings: modern AU, slight power dynamic, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, body reverence/worship, use of "plum" as a term of endearment, sex in a semi-public place

Logistical Notes: My August entry for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky-Bingo using the BODY WORSHIP prompt and week 3 of Hot Bucky Summer hitting up that SOMEONE ELSE'S HOUSE prompt.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Normal breathing, you thought to yourself as the driver pulled up the drive of the massive estate of Alexander Pierce, one of the senior partners of the law firm where you worked. This was your first time attending the firm’s New Year’s Eve party since you’d only begun working for Bucky in the early spring, and although you were only Bucky’s assistant, you had heard enough directly and indirectly to know that making an appearance here mattered. Bucky had insisted that you didn’t need to feel obligated to come – especially since he’d kept you away from your family over Christmas when the weather had made it impossible to fly home from the business trip to Norway. He had even insisted on paying for flights for you to go straight home instead of making the long drive to your hometown.

What he didn’t know was that you had called and changed your return flight from January 2 to December 31.

Bucky was close to making partner, and you wanted to show that you were one of the small but dedicated team he had in his office that took their work supporting Bucky seriously.

And while being home for some delayed holiday time with your family had been nice, the longer you were there, the more you were itching to get back to New York and figure out what life was going to look like with your boss post-Norway.

Five days of normal business followed by the three “stranded” days of Nordic adventures, shopping, sightseeing, dining, spoiling, and so much sex. So much sex.

With Bucky.

Your boss.

A valet stepped up to open your door as the Uber driver stopped in the circular receiving area of the driveway at the front of the mansion. As you stepped out and began walking up the steps, you were glad you went with the modest heels rather than the strappy high heels your best friend had tried to coax you to pick when you FaceTimed her while getting ready. Since you were nervous about enough other things, you didn’t need to worry about your shoes tonight.

Things like the bolder shade of lipstick you’d put on, or the sexiest dress you’d ever worn, or simply the fact that you didn’t know where everything that happened in Norway left you with Bucky Barnes.

Minor things to trifle over, really.

You gave your name to an attendant at the front. They scanned the list, smiled, welcomed you to the festivities, and gestured toward the staff taking care of a coat check just inside, off to the right of the grand foyer.

As you approached the coat check, you couldn't help but marvel at the opulence surrounding you. The foyer was a masterpiece of marble and gold, with a grand staircase sweeping upwards and crystal chandeliers twinkling overhead. You were enveloped by a pleasantly thick scent of gardenias and champagne, mingling with the soft murmur of conversation and tinkling laughter from the rooms beyond.

You slipped off your coat, revealing the dress you'd agonized over for hours. It was a deep emerald green, hugging your curves before falling in a silky waterfall to your ankles. The neckline dipped low, and the back was even lower, leaving you feeling both sophisticated and slightly exposed.

The attendant handed you a small golden ticket in exchange for your coat, and you tucked it carefully into your clutch. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the evening ahead. The butterflies in your stomach were performing an intricate ballet, a mix of excitement and nerves that left you feeling slightly lightheaded.

As you turned to face the grand ballroom, you were immediately enveloped by the soft glow of candlelight and the gentle tinkling of champagne glasses. The room was a vision of elegance, with towering floral arrangements adorning every table and shimmering gold accents catching the light. The air was filled with the gentle hum of conversation and laughter, the tinkling of champagne flutes, and the soft strains of a live orchestra.

You took a tentative step forward, your eyes scanning the crowd for a familiar face. The sea of designer gowns and tailored suits was intimidating, and you found yourself second-guessing your decision to attend. Just as you were considering a hasty retreat, a warm, familiar voice called your name.

"Hey there, stranger! I was hoping you'd make it tonight."

You turned to see Steve Rogers, Bucky's best friend and fellow lawyer at the firm. He approached, moving with a swift grace as he always did, his broad shoulders filling out an impeccably tailored navy suit, a glass of champagne in each hand. He’d be intimidating if you hadn’t forged a wonderfully warm friendship over the past months working in the office. You admired how much he wanted to take care of those around him, unafraid to speak up whenever needed, and equally ready to make someone smile.

Even now, the tension in your shoulders eased at the sight of him and his bright smile.

“Bucky will be happy to see you!”

You ducked your head a moment, taking a sip of the champagne he offered. “He will?”

“I don’t think he could tie his shoes anymore without you,” Steve exaggerated, but the compliment warmed your insides anyway.

Steve offered you his arm and then led you further into the party.

Your senses were overwhelmed by the sheer grandeur of the event. Everywhere you looked, your eyes drank in more exquisite details infusing the atmosphere. You passed by a magnificent ice sculpture of the firm's logo, its edges glinting in the candlelight. You passed by tables laden with delicacies from around the world - tiny caviar-topped blinis, glistening oysters nestled in beds of ice, and delicate pastries that looked almost too beautiful to eat. Waiters in crisp white jackets glided effortlessly through the crowd, their trays balanced with flutes of golden champagne and jewel-toned cocktails.

You couldn't help but feel a bit like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole. Each new sight was more wondrous than the last. To your left, a living statue covered in shimmering gold paint posed gracefully atop a pedestal, her movements so subtle you had to blink to be sure she was real. To your right, an aerialist in a glittering silver bodysuit performed breathtaking feats on silks suspended from the vaulted ceiling, twirling and spinning in mesmerizing patterns.

Near them, a group of women in shimmering gowns laughed melodiously, their jewelry catching the light with every gesture. You nodded politely at a few familiar faces from the office, but your attention was divided, always seeking. You noticed Alexander Pierce himself holding court near a grand fireplace, his silver hair gleaming as he regaled a captive audience with what was surely a riveting anecdote.

As you and Steve wove through the crowd, your eyes continued to roam, searching for one face in particular. The anticipation built with each passing moment, your heart quickening its pace. You nodded politely at a few familiar faces from the office, but your attention was divided, always seeking.

Then, as if drawn by an invisible thread, your gaze was pulled across the room to finally land on Bucky Barnes, looking devastatingly handsome in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo. His dark hair was newly trimmed since you last saw him, sleek in a way that made your fingers itch to rake through it and over his scalp. He was engaged in conversation with a small group, his head thrown back in laughter at something someone had said.

Suddenly, Bucky's attention shifted to you, his eyes locking onto yours across the bustling room. The laughter died on his lips, replaced with a bit of wonder and an impossibly charming grin. Immediately heat was pooling in your stomach, nerves somewhat calmed, but a different itch pitching inside you.

The world seemed to slow down as Bucky excused himself from his group and began making his way towards you. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him approach, his eyes never leaving yours. The crowded room seemed to part for him, or perhaps it was just your imagination playing tricks on you.

As he drew closer, you could see the slight widening of his eyes as he took in your appearance. His gaze traveled slowly from your face down to your toes and back up again, lingering on the curves accentuated by your dress. When his eyes met yours again, they were dark with an intensity that made your skin tingle and memories of your time in Norway together flash vividly through your mind.

"You're here," Bucky said softly as he reached you, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "I thought you were still with your family."

You smiled, trying to keep your voice steady. "I wanted to surprise you. I hope that's okay?"

"More than okay," he murmured, his eyes still roaming over you appreciatively. "You look absolutely stunning."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his compliment. "Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself," you replied, taking in his impeccably tailored tuxedo.

Steve cleared his throat beside you, reminding you both of his presence. "I'll leave you two to catch up," he said with a knowing smile, giving Bucky a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

Suddenly alone with Bucky, you felt the air between you crackle with tension. The noise of the party faded into the background as you stood there, lost in each other's gaze.

"Can I get you a drink?" Bucky asked, gesturing towards the bar.

You lifted your half-empty champagne flute. "I could use a refill," you said with a smile.

Bucky's hand found the small of your back as he guided you towards the bar, the possessive heat of his touch sending flames radiating across your skin. You were acutely aware of every point of contact between you, rejoicing and regretting over choosing the dangerously low and exposed back that allowed him skin to skin access in this moment.

As you waited for your drinks, Bucky leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. "I can't believe you're here," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "Since Norway, you’ve been on my mind constantly.

Your heart raced at his words, memories of passionate nights, morning, afternoons, and so many stolen kisses streaming through your mind. "I couldn't stay away," you admitted softly. "I needed to see you."

Bucky's eyes darkened with desire, his gaze dropping to your lips. For a moment, you thought Bucky might kiss you right there, in full view of everyone. But he seemed to catch himself, remembering where you were. Instead, he reached past you to collect your drinks from the bartender - a flute of golden champagne for you and a tumbler of amber whiskey for himself.

"Come with me," he murmured, his voice husky and filled with promise. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining as he led you away from the crowded ballroom.

Your heart raced as you followed him down a dimly lit corridor, the sounds of the party fading behind you. Moonlight streamed through tall windows, casting long shadows across the polished marble floor. His fingers tightened around yours as he glanced back, a roguish glint in his eyes.

At the end of the hall, he paused before an ornate wooden door. With a quick look around, he turned the handle and drew you inside. You found yourself in a luxurious study, shelves of leather-bound books lining the walls and a grand desk dominating the center of the room.

Bucky took your glass and his and set them on the desk. Then his strong arms encircled your waist and drew you to him. "We shouldn't be in here," you whispered, even as excitement coursed through your veins.

"Shh," he replied, pulling you closer. His lips found yours in a searing kiss that made your knees weak. You melted against him, hands roaming over the broad planes of his shoulders.

As Bucky's lips moved against yours, all thoughts of propriety and caution melted away. Your hands slid down his chest, fingers curling into the lapels of his tuxedo jacket as you pulled him closer. The kiss deepened, pent-up longing and desire pouring out between you.

Bucky's hands roamed your back, tracing the exposed skin left bare by your daring dress. And the way he touched you? Reverently worshipping the curves and plump flesh you were usually so insecure about? This was why you dared to show more than you typically did. He made you believe you were gorgeous. His touch ignited sparks along your spine, each caress stoking the fire building within you. You gasped as he nipped at your lower lip, using the opportunity to sweep his tongue into your mouth.

The taste of whiskey on his lips mingled with the lingering champagne on yours, creating an intoxicating blend that left you dizzy with want. You pressed yourself closer, desperate to eliminate any space between your bodies. He slipped a finger beneath the strap on your shoulder and pushed it down, tugging until he freed one of your breasts. He hummed as he began to palm it with his large hand, and you arched into his touch.

Suddenly, Bucky broke the kiss, and spun you around. You gasped and brought both hands out to steady yourself on the edge of the desk.

Bucky's lips traced a burning path down the curve of your neck, pausing to nip gently at the sensitive spot where it met your shoulder. You shivered as his warm breath ghosted across your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake. His kisses continued their southward journey, open-mouthed heat following the elegant line of your spine.

Each press of his lips felt like a spark igniting your nerve endings. The cool air of the study contrasted sharply with the heat of his mouth, creating a delicious tension that had you trembling. As he moved lower, his hands skimmed down your sides, fingers tracing the curves of your waist and hips with reverent appreciation.

As Bucky sank to his knees behind you, his hands slid down to your hips, his breath now teasing the small of your back. The anticipation built, your heart racing as you felt him gather the silky fabric of your dress in his hands, lifting it inch by tantalizing inch. The whisper of the material against your skin was electric, heightening every sensation. When he reached your hips, he paused, his fingers tracing the lace edge of your panties.

"You're exquisite," he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

Slowly, reverently, he began to peel your panties down. The delicate lace clung to your curves before giving way, sliding down your thighs.

You shivered as the cool air hit your exposed skin, a mix of anticipation and nervousness coursing through you. Bucky's hands caressed your thighs, urging them apart, his touch both soothing and electrifying. You could feel his hot breath against your most intimate areas, causing a fresh wave of arousal to wash over you.

"God, I've missed you," Bucky groaned, his voice husky with desire. "Missed tasting you."

Without further preamble, he leaned in and ran his tongue along your slit, eliciting a gasp from you. Your fingers gripped the edge of the desk tighter as he began to explore you with his mouth, his skilled tongue alternating between long, languid strokes and quick, teasing flicks.

You bit your lip to stifle a moan, acutely aware of the party continuing just down the hall. One of his hands snaked around to caress your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. The dual sensations had you panting, struggling to keep quiet as waves of pleasure washed over you. The thought of being caught only added to the intensity of sensations swirling through your body.

Bucky's tongue worked magic between your thighs, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on your most sensitive spots. Your legs trembled as the pleasure built, threatening to overwhelm you. You bit down on your lip, desperately trying to muffle the moans that threatened to escape.

"Let me hear you, plum," Bucky murmured against your heated flesh. "I want to know how good I'm making you feel."

His words sent a shiver through you, and you allowed a soft whimper to escape.

Encouraged, Bucky redoubled his efforts, his tongue circling your clit with increasing pressure. One of his hands slid up your inner thigh, and you gasped as he slowly pushed two fingers inside you.

The dual sensations of his tongue on your clit and his fingers curling inside you had you seeing stars. Your hips began to move of their own accord, grinding against his face as you chased your release. The coil of tension in your core wound tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment.

Just as you were about to tumble over the precipice, the sound of approaching voices in the hallway made you freeze. Panic mingled with arousal as you realized how exposed you were, bent over the desk of what had to be Alexander Pierce’s private study.

But Bucky was undeterred, and you bit your lip to stifle your moans, acutely aware that you were in a semi-public space. The thought of getting caught only added to the thrill, your arousal only surging more, lapped up by his wicked tongue. He worshipped at the altar of your sex with so much devotion, you weren’t quite ready to think about the implications of yet.

Bucky's fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made your toes curl. His tongue continued its relentless assault on your clit, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. The voices in the hallway grew closer, and your heart pounded with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.

"Bucky," you whispered urgently, your voice trembling. "Someone's coming."

He hummed against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. "Then you better come first," he murmured, his voice muffled but determined.

The voices in the hallway grew louder, and you could make out snippets of conversation about quarterly reports and market projections. Your heart raced, torn between the need for release and the fear of discovery.

Bucky, however, seemed to relish the added excitement. His ministrations became more intense, his tongue flicking rapidly against your sensitive bud while his fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot with each thrust. The combination of pleasure and danger pushed you closer to the edge.

"Come for me," Bucky whispered against your heated flesh, his breath sending shivers through your body. "Let go, plum. I've got you."

His words were your undoing. The tension that had been building inside you finally snapped, and you came with a silent scream, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky's mouth and fingers worked you through your orgasm. Your legs trembled as the aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you. Bucky's touch gentled, his fingers slipping out of you as he pressed soft kisses to your inner thighs. The voices in the hallway faded, moving past the study door without pause.

With shaky hands, you pushed yourself up from the desk, your breath still coming in quick passes. Bucky helped drop the fabric of your dress back down to the floor and rose to his feet behind you. He turned you back around to face him and brought you back into his arms. You could feel the hard line of his arousal pressing against you, but he seemed unconcerned over seeking his own relief.

"You're incredible," he murmured, his lips brushing your forehead. "So beautiful when you come undone for me."

He dipped down and pressed a kiss to the swell of your still exposed breast before then bringing your dress back up and over your shoulder, setting it completely right again.

Your hands slid up to loop around his neck. His eyes were dark with desire, his lips slightly swollen from his ministrations.

"That was…" you trailed off, unable to find the right words.

"Amazing," Bucky finished for you. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and it sent a fresh wave of arousal through you.

But before either of you could be tempted into anything else, the voices in the hall returned.

"I'm telling you, Alexander, the Ultron account is a goldmine waiting to happen," a booming voice declared footsteps drew closer.

Bucky quickly reached for the drinks on the desk, pressing your champagne flute into your fingers. The he dipped to the floor, snatched up your panties, and pocketed them. You bit your lip, and he smirked at you.

"I appreciate your enthusiasm, Wilson, but I'm not convinced the risk is worth the potential reward," came Alexander Pierce's measured reply as the door opened.

"Barnes! There you are," Alexander Pierce's voice boomed as he entered the study, followed by two other senior partners. "We've been looking for you."

Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure everyone could hear it.

Bucky turned, his body language relaxed and confident despite almost being caught in a compromising position.

"Mr. Pierce," Bucky greeted smoothly, his voice betraying none of the tension you felt. "I was just showing my assistant the impressive library you have here. We both share a passion for rare first editions."

You nodded. "It's truly remarkable," you managed, proud of how steady your voice sounded.

Pierce's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked between you and Bucky, but his expression remained neutral. "Indeed it is," he said, moving towards one of the bookshelves. His hand swept over one of the shelves. "I'm particularly fond of this Hemingway collection. However, I’m afraid I can’t entertain you with its history and how I had to hunt them down presently. I’m actually glad we found you, Barnes. We have some urgent matters to discuss regarding the Stark Industries merger. I’d like to bring you in on it, if you’re game."

"Of course, sir,” Bucky nodded, his professional mask slipping for only the briefest of moments, but you saw the excitement there for the opportunity presented.

"Excellent," Pierce said, clapping his hands together. "Gentlemen, have a seat." He turned to you, his smile polite but dismissive. "Thank you for your interest in the collection, and, please, enjoy the rest of the party."

You nodded, understanding the clear directive. "Of course, Mr. Pierce. Thank you for your hospitality."

As you moved to leave, Bucky caught your eye. His gaze was intense, filled with unspoken promises. "I'll find you," he mouthed silently, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you slipped out of the study, leaving Bucky to his impromptu meeting. Your mind was reeling from the events of the last few minutes - the passionate encounter with Bucky, the near-miss of being caught. Mostly, though, you were happy you had come after all and were eager to spend the rest of the evening with Bucky. At a party like this where business and pleasure stood side by side, you knew the host couldn’t be gone in his study for long, and then Bucky would return to your side, and you’d be able to ring in the New Year just right.

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It's been SO LONG since we've seen these two! I hope it was a nice return to them.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #female reader #babb2023 #hotbuckysummer2024 #aspen wrote something #what you want #deliciously debauched labor day weekend

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