#one of these days I'll clear my inbox | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aledmorningstar · 11 months ago

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╰┈➤Misunderstood

Summary: How the gang finds out about Sukuna's girlfriend in a misunderstanding.

Relationship: Ryomen Sukuna/Reader

Word count: 3.0k

Note: I'm a liar, I know I said this would go up yesterday, in my defense we set very optimistic goals. Please comment and feel free to send me anything to my inbox

-‘๑’-: No curses au, uni au, sfw, humor, fluff, bad english

The house of the twins Yuji and Ryomen seemed more lively than normal, as every weekend they had planned a movie afternoon, the meetings began early after leaving school, buying snacks, preparing comfortable clothes and choosing some games of table.

Yuji's face wrinkled into a displeased grimace at seeing his twin dressing casually to go out for a walk down the street, while he and his friends were already prepared wearing their comical pajamas, it wasn't fair. This time it was Yuji's turn to choose the movie so as not to let his brother get away with it.

“What are you doing?”

Sukuna turned to look for a second indifferently at his brother while he finished fastening the buttons of his dark shirt. How could he take seriously his brother who maintained an irritated pout while wearing those ridiculous tiger-themed full-body pajamas?

"I'm going out, tell mom I'll be late"

Yuji's moan of annoyance echoed throughout the house, drawing the attention of Nobara and Megumi who were stealthily trying to spy on the conversation by hiding behind a wall.

"You said you would watch Human Worm 4 with us today!"

The one with the caramel eyes began to complain about the injustice that was occurring, a perfect time for his faithful friends to take action.

“We already prepared everything, you can't leave us stranded for an afternoon of movies!”

Nobara grumbled as she tried to fix the sleeves of her raccoon pajamas.

"We made a pact, you must suffer with us"

Megumi was supposed to be the most mature of the group, perhaps Sukuna had overestimated him because he never imagined seeing him share the same neuron as his friends while also wearing ridiculous beige dog pajamas.

“It's a shame brats, it'll have to be another day.”

The older twin's hands didn't stop moving trying to find the car keys; he had somehow managed to look appropriately with a hint of elegance, but without losing that menacing aura, a pair of black pants held up by an expensive belt that he had stolen from his father, a dark gray shirt with the first few buttons open showing his collarbones and the sleeves perfectly arranged at his elbows showing his tattooed arms.

"You look like a criminal"

“Who said I'm not?”

Itadori's intentions to plant some blame on his brother for abandoning them on a seemingly important night were noticeable for miles.

"At least have the decency to tell me where the hell you're going."

Sukuna took a while to respond, his eyes straying suspiciously and the trio could see a slight nervousness on his face. Wait, nerves? Sukuna? Those words were naturally contrary, it even seemed strange to put them together in one sentence. Here was definitely another shoe that was taking a while to drop.

"Mind your own business, don't be nosy"

Itadori instantly stood between his brother and the front door, blocking his way, he would get to the bottom of this matter at any cost.

"Are you planning something bad? Mom will be angry if you get into trouble again"

"Yes, yes, yes. I plan to do many bad and illegal things, in fact in this mood I plan to strangle the first person in front of me"

Itadori, Nobara, and Megumi looked at each other before leaving the hallway clear, letting Sukuna walk.

"Behave badly, take good care of yourself and if they discover you, deny everything"

“See you”

Once the so-called evil twin left the house, the hallway was completely silent for a few seconds.

“Don't you feel...? Curiosity?"

An excited Nobara looked at her friends with bright, gossip-hungry eyes.

"No not really"

Megumi's voice was ignored as Itadori pushed the Fushiguro boy's face away with his hand.

"I was hoping you'd ask, Nobara! In fact, my brother has been acting strange lately."

Itadori put on a thoughtful expression as he remembered his brother's unusual behavior in recent weeks.

"What do you mean he's been acting strange?"

At that moment Nobara had taken on a detective attitude, while the previously disinterested Megumi began to listen attentively to his friends.

“He's been coming home late, more than usual.”

“That doesn't seem strange for someone like him.”

An exalted Itadori raises his hands dramatically as he defends his argument.

“But when he is usually late it is always because he is causing problems in the streets and he is not at all careful with his arrival, now it is different!”

Sharing a room with Itadori, Sukuna didn't care how scandalous he could be when he showed up at home after curfew. He didn't pay attention to the fact that the noise of his shoes being thrown to any side of the room or that the sound of his swear words every time he tripped over something could disturb his brother's sleep.

Lately, however, the nights that Sukuna had spent late away from home had become more frequent, and Itadori couldn't help but notice even in the dead of night how messy his twin's clothes were every time he returned with silent footsteps and he also did not overlook the large number of marks that stood out on Sukuna's neck.

“Also, he has been trying hard in all his school subjects, he has turned in all his homework and sometimes he goes out to the library to study. Did you hear what I said? He goes to the library to study!”

“That's definitely not the Sukuna we know, something is happening to him.”

The three teenagers headed to the living room to sit down to discuss more calmly and solve that mystery.

“Do you think someone is bullying him?”

Itadori looked worried for a split second at Nobara's statement until Megumi gave him a strange, brief sarcastic smile.

“Are you serious right now? Do you think Sukuna, the most feared man on campus, could be bothered by someone? Jesus Christ even earned the nickname “The King of Curses”

They didn't need much time to agree with Megumi, it was impossible to imagine Sukuna being submissive to anyone.

“True, it would make more sense for him to be the one who bothered someone… It can't be possible”

“I told him clearly not to get into trouble, but he never listens to me!”

“Wait, Yuji, calm down. Don't you think that if that's the case, he's spending too much time on that person?”

Itadori seemed to think about it for a second and his face transformed into one of much more dramatic horror than before.

"So he really hates that person! Maybe he's planning a murder? Your brother isn't exactly known for being patient"

Nobara's words were the little push Itadori needed to panic.

"Sukuna definitely can't go to the correctional facility again!... Mom was very sad back then..."

Nobara and Megumi looked into each other's eyes, unable to abandon their friend in such a situation.

"Fine! Our mission today is to prevent your brother from becoming a criminal.”

"Are we allowed to use force? I still have to get revenge for the books I lent him."

The brown-haired girl, Kugisaki, was the first to stand up and was followed by Fushiguro. It seemed like a scene worthy of a movie, this was the motivational part because both friends extended their hands to the boy in tiger pajamas.

“Wait, wait, wait… What happened to your books?”

“I'll ask your brother when I see him.”

It had been approximately 30 minutes since the trio of friends had located and followed Sukuna, a difficult mission that had begun with the friends running after the older twin's car. The fatigue was overcome by surprise when seeing the target enter a flower shop.

“We're late, he's already planning the funeral!”

“Wait, give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe… Maybe he's going to visit a friend?”

“Impossible, my brother has no friends”

Nobara and Yuji's brief talk was interrupted when they saw Sukuna leaving that flower shop with a huge and pretty bouquet of yellow carnations.

"You see it? Maybe your brother is not as bad as he seems” Nobara's voice tried to be optimistic, and it also seemed strange to her that a man would buy flowers for no apparent reason.

“Now I'm quite confused” Itadori, for his part, narrowed his eyes, staring at Sukuna, trying to read his brother's mind.

Megumi spoke with a stiff voice drawing the attention of his friends.

"Don't be so surprised, in the language of flowers, carnations of that color mean contempt"

"Is he turning his assassination attempt into a performance? He's getting creative"

"Hey, he's leaving. Hurry up"

The gang quickly got into a taxi and like every chase scene, Itadori and Nobara yelled at the driver to follow the car in front of them, Megumi had to apologize to the driver at the end of the ride.

Sukuna drove his car until he reached the darkest and most dangerous neighborhood that anyone could imagine, clearly that place had an invisible sign indicating that it was better not to be there, there were few passers-by and the streets were cold with graffiti everywhere.

The older twin got out of his car after having entered the area a little, he walked as if that place was his territory, as if he felt at home, he adjusted the sleeves of his shirt, raising them to his elbows, with a bored look he observed the time on his watch and then leaned his back against the wall waiting patiently. Meanwhile, the trio had remained hidden behind a pile of boxes and seemingly useless objects, thinking about Ryomen's intentions.

"There isn't a soul in this place, what is he planning to do?"

Itadori's question was answered when Megumi held his jaw making him look to his right, his eyes widened as he saw a girl with a small frame, transmitting an aura of delicacy and fragility, she was the complete stereotype of a little princess wearing a pink dress and white sneakers, light makeup and a flower crown adorning her hair, she looked out of context walking with a smile and humming a song in that horrible alley.

"It can't be her... There's no way Sukuna..."

Nobara's words were cut off when the red-eyed man put out his cigarette and walked over to where the girl was with a proud smile on his face.

The fear that this small, fragile woman could be hurt by his violent brother made Itadori quickly get up from his hiding place and stand in front of his brother.

"Sukuna! Stop right there, don't do it!"

The sudden entrance of his nosy brother surprised Sukuna who maintained a displeased scowl at his twin's actions.

"What the fuck? Get out of the way brat, I'm on something important right now"

"Don't you dare take another step, don't do something you'll regret!"

Itadori's voice took a drastic change, sounding too threatening compared to his usual cheerful tone.

"What the hell are you talking about? Leave me alone, I don't have time for this."

Sukuna looked at the horrified girl who was just a few meters away from him, he pushed his brother away with one hand with the intention of walking towards where she was, however he was stopped and subdued on the ground by Megumi.

“Don't even try it, you disgusting scoundrel.”

“Leave me alone, you fucking bastards!”

While the three men argued and fought among themselves, Nobara also came out of her hiding place and walked towards the frightened woman, being careful not to exalt her even more, Kugisaki placed his hands on her shoulders trying to calm her down.

"Are you okay? “Did he do something to you?”

The girl's hands remained covering her mouth, completely surprised by the situation. She instantly left Nobara and ran quickly to where Sukuna was lying on the ground.

"What are you doing?! Get your hands off him!"

Megumi and Itadori's movements stopped, still holding Sukuna on the ground, they turned to look completely surprised at the owner of that little voice, their minds went blank as they watched her approach, she put her hands on Fushiguro's chest. making an attempt to push him away from the red-eyed twin.

"What are you doing to my boyfriend?! Leave him alone!"

Still bewildered, Itadori was the first to move away and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder for him to do the same, allowing Sukuna to stand up a little dazed.

"I don't know what 'Kuna did to you, but what you are doing is not right, it is not right to intimidate others, problems are solved by talking"

You stood in front of your boyfriend trying to be the one to defend him this time, you used to be a little shy when talking to strangers, but you weren't going to let your lover be the victim of such an unfair situation.

"Honey, calm down. They are—"

"No, love! They were very mean to you, no matter who they are!"

You knew that Sukuna had a special weakness for you that made him want to protect you from any danger, everyone told you that, obviously he would also want to take control of this situation in his hands. No, this time it was your turn to protect him, to be his knight in shining armor.

On the other hand, there were also the three idiots who had tried to play detective, watching the situation in astonishment.

"She... just called him love"

“Yes, she really did”

"I can't believe it"

Ryomen had tried to calm his girlfriend's little anger by taking her hands and caressing them, it worked for a few seconds until that trio spoke again.

Upon hearing the incredulous voices of those strangers, you let go of Sukuna's hands and walked a few steps close to those you thought were criminals.

"Listen, my parents are very important people, I will make sure you are punished appropriately"

Your acute and sweet angry voice was silenced by Sukuna's lips, one of his large hands finding a place on your waist while the other caressed your soft cheek.

"It's okay, princess"

"No, it's not okay-"

You tried to reply to his deep voice, you would be lying if you said it didn't make you shiver, his voice was only directed at you, only for you to hear, that made you calm down and also lowered the tone of your voice.

"Pretty, this is my stupid brother and his friends."

"...Impossible, it can't be…, they were subduing you"

"Don't worry, I'm sure they have a good explanation for doing all this, right?"

The affectionate look that Sukuna had given his supposed girlfriend had changed drastically when he turned to look at his friends, removed his touch from his beloved and walked towards the frightened trio, cracking the fingers of his fists.

"Last words?"

Approximately 10 minutes had passed after that disastrous encounter, Sukuna had considered himself generous that day so he decided to take his brother and his friends to the house where they should have stayed from the beginning, very kind, it had nothing to do with his girlfriend will look at those three idiots like abandoned puppies.

"How were we supposed to know you were visiting your girlfriend?"

"What kind of dates are you taking her on?"

"Yeah, you looked like you were about to commit a crime!"

Of course Itadori, Megumi and Nobara tested their patience throughout the car ride, complaining from the back seats and trying to alleviate the pain caused by the car owner's blows. Your curious little eyes turned to look at the trio with intrigue.

"Why do you say that?"

None of them knew how to answer your question, the answer was so obvious that they thought you were stupid or blind, of course none of them said that thought out loud, not when they felt Sukuna's psychopathic gaze in the rearview mirror. However, that didn't stop Yuji from continuing the conversation either.

"You were alone in that horrible and dangerous place, it is the perfect opportunity for a madman"

"Oh, that..."

Your calm reaction to that comment only confused them more, you were too sweet to be in those places and even worse to be there with Sukuna for no good reason.

"Her parents are renowned people and they do not agree with our relationship, that is why we must meet in the most discreet places possible"

"Sometimes dad hires people to watch me, so our meeting point for dates is that place."

The older twin's words left the dynamic trio thinking, especially Itadori and Nobara, Megumi didn't really care much, your complementation made them imagine a current version of Romeo and Juliet. The explanations of your strange relationship had clarified most of his doubts regarding the strange day.

"Wait, what about the flowers?"

Nobara's comment made all the attention focus on Ryomen who wrinkled his face in confusion until he remembered the detail that his friend was talking about at the same time that he stopped the car in front of his house.

"What flowers?"

"Oh right, I brought you something"

Sukuna got out of the car and went to the back taking something out of the trunk, a nice big bouquet of flowers appeared in front of you held by your handsome boyfriend.

"Oh, honey, you shouldn't have bothered."

"It's no bother when I can make you happy"

You received the beautiful flowers in your small hands, allowing yourself to smell them, such a fresh smell while you lovingly observed your loved one and he returned the same look, absorbed in that cloying atmosphere.

Of course that beautiful moment was not the most comfortable for everyone present, much less for Yuji Itadori imitating his twin with a shrill and annoying voice, since he had never seen his brother in that silly state.

"It's no bother when I can make you happy"

“I'm going to kick your ass”

Megumi couldn't stay silent for long either, because something kept echoing in her mind.

"But the meaning of flowers..."

"Excuse me?"

You looked at him with a smile so sweet and innocent that he hesitated for a second on his next words.

“Those flowers have a negative meaning…”

"It's funny you think my 'Kuna knows the meaning of flowers"

"We should have assumed that"

⋆·˚ ༘ *🔭 master list is here

#aledthinks #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jujustsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #drabble #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk sukuna #sukuna #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #fluff #ryoumen sukuna

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deerspherestudios · 5 months ago

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Short Break and To Dos!

Hello all! 🍄🍄👻 I'm glad to see people enjoying Day 3 so far! I was so nervous about showing another side to Mychael in the update I thought people wouldn't like him as much but plenty have reacted positively! ❤️

I'll add a TLDR; above the read more, but if you don't mind my ramblings and want more details about everything, I'll write everything below! Light spoilers ahead!

I'll be taking a short break from MO development until 28th October to work on a short VN for the Monstrous Desires jam!

Most probably missed it, but there's a tiny small patch to Day 3 explained here.

Queue will return soon! I just gotta handle some housekeeping first with my Patreon.

Regarding the feedback on Day 3, I'm glad people aren't as averse to the new side of Mychael, in that he isn't always soft and sweet. I want people to fall in love with a person after all, not a yandere caricature, and that means that person can get upset, angry and sometimes irrational when we don't know what's going on in their head even towards the subject of their affections. While some (understandably!) were shocked about his reaction to the mushrooms, it'll be clear as to why (hopefully!)

Some of you have given incredibly accurate theories, and I'll take that as something I've done well in building up the mystery!!! I'm excited to share more in the next update, but for now!

1. I'll be taking a short break from MO development to work on a short VN for the Monstrous Desires jam!

What I have planned for Day 4 of MO might be the biggest update so far, since one route will lead to a few official BAD ENDINGS as opposed to 'dead ends' like the current demo has. To those who really want to, you finally get to see Mychael at his worst. As usual, writing the script takes a few months with plenty of changes in between, and I don't wanna bulldoze ahead and rush the story when it's getting to the climax!

But before I jump into all of that I just wanna give myself a creative exercise and try exploring a different theme, style and setting with a fresh new character for the jam! Since I'm a sucker for the trope... yes, the new blorbo will also be a yandere, sorry, I'm predictable.💔 The jam ends on October 28th so development on MO will continue then!

The last time I wrote something remotely sci-fi was in high school, so this will be fun to try!

2. Most probably missed it, but there's a tiny small patch to Day 3 explained here.

What it says on the tin! If you've already played Day 3, rest assured there's no significant story changes. Just an updated credits list, three extra sprites for one route and a small fix in the code.

3. Queue will return soon! I just gotta handle some housekeeping first with my Patreon.

Plenty of people have sent such sweet and encouraging messages to my inbox on what they thought of the update and I cannot thank all of you enough for the support!! I can't wait to post them out to archive them on the blog and answer all your interesting theories and queries in my queue!

But for now I'm due for a short break from my socials and to catch up on my Patreon sketch requests haha. I also plan to release cut content from Day 3 for my Yearling and Deer patrons. Plus, I'll be working on some written prompts for extra lore so that's something to look forward to!

I'll be back soon! Take care, fireflies!! ❤️

#mushroom oasis vn #bts #cheea chatter

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simpxxstan · 11 months ago

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Nobody Else (part 1)

pairing: chaebol!wonwoo x chaebol!fem.reader

genre: enemies with benefits to lovers, smut (minors do not interact please), mild angst

summary: the girl who was proud about making her own destiny, the boy she swore to never interact with. sometimes it takes a lifetime to know someone, even yourself. because who would've seen any of this coming?

chapter word count: 13k

warnings: honestly, way too much smut. cockwarming, oral sex (m. receiving, f. receiving), usage of sex toys, orgasm denial, gagging, overstimulation, dom-sub dynamics, public sex (i don't even know if it's feasible, please suspend your beliefs about reality while reading aah), unprotected sex (please do not do this irl), breast play, spanking, use of spit during sex, usage of petnames (darling, babe, sweetheart for female), usage of word slut (for female), usage of sir and daddy (for male), sir kink, daddy kink, office sex, use of profanities, lots of bickering. let me know if i missed something out!

a/n: and we're back. (or are we?) honestly, i write when i get the time. and i don't know when i'll get my schedule to clear up again </3 hopefully within a few months my life will be back on track.

hope you enjoy this!!! posting this in two parts because it's way too long otherwise. do leave your thoughts, i swear reading them makes me so happy. open to hearing criticism too so pls my inbox is right there for you to rant. have a nice day!

You’ve known Jeon Wonwoo since the age of eleven, but you’d never thought you’d end up like this. Being in the same social circles as you and your family, the young Jeon heir had never really been your friend. However, that did not mean you didn’t meet him. In fact, you met him quite often. He went to the same school as you, he was always there at the parties you went to, and everyone around you kept talking about him. No matter what the season or the age, everyone was infatuated with Jeon Wonwoo.

Objectively speaking, no.

Subjectively speaking, not at all.

You could never understand why one would find a man with no beauties to his personality, nothing to his merit except a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and those never-changing black clothes, attractive. Apart from that, he never exchanged a friendly conversation with you. Never a moment of warmth. And you reciprocated the feeling absolutely. You had no desire to seek his favour. He simply never left the periphery of your life, and it annoyed you. But not enough to bother you. You’d grown used to the sight of the tall boy, who never spoke to anyone except his tight-knit group of absolute losers. And he should have remained in your periphery, never in your focus. You wanted nothing to do with the cold, arrogant nerd.

So naturally, you’d never, in your wildest imaginations, thought that you’d be here, sucking his dick off under his desk while he engaged himself in a meeting on his desktop. You had been in that position for hours, your mouth lolling over the wetness surrounding his penis, both from your saliva and the slow trickle of his pre-cum. While he has switched from meeting to meeting, both with corporates in Korea and internationally, his suit impeccable and the glasses sitting neatly on his nose, you’d cockwarmed him. That would’ve still been fine, had you not enjoyed it so thoroughly that it had become a routine for you both over the months.

After a solid two hours (and a few more minutes), he’d allowed himself to push back the chair a bit, pull his pants down further, spread his legs wide enough to meet the annoying temptation that had been bugging him for so long, and thread his hands into your hair, indicating you to step out of the haze you’d fallen into and get on with the job. And oh boy, you’d obeyed. At this point, it was a reflex for you. Feeling the way his hands caved your jaws and neck, you leaned into his touch, all while keeping your eyes on the little twitches he made on his face. Perhaps it was his need to be dominant, or perhaps it was just his arrogance, but he never slipped during sex. Even when you were giving him the most mind-blowing blowjob, like right now, using techniques you’d picked up over time, slipping your tongue under his cock to feel his veins throb around your tongue, gently nipping the foreskin to make the red tip burn harder, and taking him into your throat completely without a moment of a gag reflex. He’d never show you how much he liked it, never praised you, never revealed that he wanted it as much as you did.

It was all a part of the act, you knew that.

It was designed to make you more eager to perform well, more eager to earn his praise, more eager to put your all into this.

Jeon Wonwoo, with his signature cold stares and the arrogant tilt of his smirk, would break you every time, and you’d come back for it, again and again, addicted mindlessly, like a drug.

Eventually, his cum would flow down your throat, and you’d feel his body relax against yours, as he let you lay your head on his thighs for a few moments to recuperate.

But never enough.

“Up, sweetheart. I thought you had a party to attend.”

He helps you stand up, smirking at the pool of your cum on the floor where you’d been sitting, with the bullet vibrator parked deep into your pussy, which had given you endless orgasms and sent you into heaven, all while you’d felt the weight of Wonwoo’s warmth on your tongue.

His words bring you back to reality, as you limp towards the washroom to clean yourself, slowly breaking your daze. “I do. When are you going to change?”

“I don’t want to. I’ll look good even if I don’t doll up.” With a snicker he goes back to his desktop, and you roll your eyes at the implication of his words.

“I still don’t understand why you’d ask them to deliver the dress here.”

“It is pretty late. Imagine if I’d have to go back home, change, and then leave for the venue. Too much hassle. I would have to leave an hour back. Your place is much closer to the venue.”

“And so you chose to make my bedroom your vanity room?

From Wonwoo’s vantage point in the study, he has a direct view into the master bedroom, where you’re settling yourself into a fresh pair of lingerie and the jumpsuit, which had been designed exclusively for you, for this occasion. The jumpsuit was perfect, made to look professional and yet classy, just as the event demanded, and in midnight blue, your favourite shade. You smiled while wearing it, your secretary had truly learnt your style well and ordered the perfect outfit for you.

“I’ll be out in ten.” You can feel his eyes on your figure, even from the distance.

You’re too engrossed in fixing the zip on your back to notice Wonwoo leaning against the doorframe, his eyes fixated on you.

“Do you need help?”

You give him a look. There’s that semi-permanent smirk lingering on his face, he knows he’s pushing your buttons. Outside of sex, you would never ask for help. In fact, you wouldn’t ask Wonwoo for anything. What could he do for you that you couldn’t do yourself?

He doesn’t say anything else, he quietly steps in and takes grip of the zip. After pulling it up, he doesn’t say a word, carefully watching you wear your scanty makeup. It could be a little creepy, but you surprisingly don’t mind. Or perhaps you just don’t care.

“Ah fuck. I forgot to bring the lip gloss.”

“But you just wore lipstick?”

“No,” you turn around and outside of Wonwoo’s periphery. Slipping your feet into your heels and putting on the earrings that had also been sent by your secretary, you told him, “The lip-plumping one. It makes my lips look nice. Well, nicer. They’re already quite pretty, as I’ve been told.” You hear Wonwoo scoff behind you, and you turn around to face him.

“Well, how do I look?”

His hands are in his pockets, his shirt buttons are halfway opened and his hair is messy, but he still looks better than you do after all this effort.

“They’ll love you.”

You smile. That’s more than enough feedback from Jeon Wonwoo. He doesn’t have to praise you outside sex if he can’t do it while fucking.

“They always do.”

And they do. The photographers, the journalists, the social elites, the ministers, their wives, their mistresses, the chaebols, their heirs, and their bastards. Everyone loves you. How could they not? You’re perfect in every way possible. At twenty six, you’re at the height of your life- young, charming and intelligent, everybody wants you. Ever since you took your father’s already prospering business to new heights four years ago, straight out of grad school, by introducing Korea to the world of AI like they’d never seen before. The industry had not just been disrupted by your introduction of AI to the field of healthcare and diagnosis, but also awed by the sheer magnanimity of your creations. You hadn’t spent years perfecting your ideas in vain.

Everyone wants a little bit of your time, a little word with you, slipping in a plea and a pickup line in the same tone, and you love the attention they throw at you. Honestly, this is where you were born to be. The spotlight is where you deserve to belong.

But eventually, the crowd dissipates, leaving you walking towards the bar looking for a martini, arm looped into the arm of your sister. “Y/N-ah, I tell you, let’s go to Jeju this weekend! The weather is perfect now- not too hot, not too cold. The forecast also recommends visiting now!” She tugs at your arm playfully, and you smile fondly. She knows your answer, but she never stops trying. “And what about your husband?” “I need a break from him, please. He’s getting on my nerves!” “Darling, it’s your hormones.” She slaps your wrist. “No! Stop saying that. Kyungmin says the exact same thing, in the exact same tone! It’s so annoying. Stop ganging up against me! Anyway it’s not my fault I’m pregnant. The least he can do is take care of me. If he can’t take care of me now, how is he going to be trained to become a father? Huh? How will he take care of our daught-” “You don’t even know that.” “I do. I have a feeling.” “You can just say you want a girl, you know. There’s nothing called ‘a feeling’.” “Damn it. Just because you have a trash sixth sense doesn’t mean you can dismiss mine, my intuition never goes wrong!”

And you’ve reached the bar, and the bartender serves you your drinks- just a virgin mojito for your sister though. “The canapes are great.” “Hmm… But I’m craving oranges! That’s why we should go to Jeju, yah!” “Unnie, you’ve gotta stop. Don’t excite yourself more than you need to. Do you want orange juice?” “No, eww. Not this artificial flavour.” “If you really want to go to Jeju, take Kyungmin Oppa and go. Don’t ask for me- I’ll never be able to keep up with your tantrums.” “Hmm. That is true. Now that you mention him, I suddenly miss him. For all my complaints, I still love him though-” You giggle at the sudden sappy tone of your sister, tuning out parts of her endless chatter, while your eyes search for someone in the crowds.

Jeon Wonwoo stands out, so he’s easy to find.

He’s wearing the same suit he’d worn earlier, not changed like he had told you. He looks tired and yet, good. Before you realise it, he’s looking back at you, and walking towards where the two of you are standing.

“Oh! Wonwoo-yah! How have you been?” Your sister asks, ever friendly. She’s the only one in the family who doesn’t show that the Jeon and Y/L/N families are rivals in business and hence, avoid speaking to each other. That norm wasn’t broken by you. To be fair, even the nights you spent together had very little conversation. No orgasm-induced dopamine could break through the wall of your egos to encourage you to be friendly with each other. Hell, outside of the bedroom, Wonwoo isn’t even attractive enough to catch your eye.

“Hmm, I’m good, Noona. I see your baby is growing fast. How many weeks left?” His tone is courteous, formal, and sweet. Makes you want to laugh at how different he sounds from the usual voice you hear him speak in.

“About eleven weeks to go. This trimester has been killing me, I swear. I’ve told Kyungmin I don’t want any more kids. Ever. I don’t think I can go through this again, and I haven’t even gotten to the pain of delivery yet. I don’t even know if I can go back to skating after this.”

You scoff. “As if. First get over your never-ending honeymoon period. Then talk about not having any more kids.”

“I support Y/N here. The company will need an heir, and I don’t see anyone else providing any.”

You sigh. There he goes. You roll your eyes at him, “An heir doesn’t have to be through blood relation. Merit exists. But then how can I explain this to someone whose existence is owed to nepotism.”

“Rich of you to say so.”

You take a step closer to Wonwoo, too riled up by the calm way he’s speaking. “I’ve built my world from the ground. From level zero. I haven’t just sat on a throne that was presented to me.”

“Forever the brat, huh? Running your mouth even in public, begging me to shut it?” You notice that Wonwoo has also come closer to you, and you can smell the cologne off him. He’s a solid four inches taller than you, even when you’re wearing heels. But you stare right back into his eyes, yours angry and his cold and superior, as usual. You wonder for the n-th time if his blood even runs warm. You’re tempted to retort back, disgusted by the below-the-belt remark, going off-topic, but your sister’s gently pulling your arm, reminding you that you’re in public. “Back off. Don’t make a scene, guys. Let’s not ruin the evening?” She puts on her best smile to calm you down, and you step away, seething in vain. Wonwoo’s smirk never leaves his face as you two bow and walk away. The way he’s looking at you reminds you of other memories.

You suddenly wonder if your sister had heard the comment or not. Considering her though, probably not. Thank god it was her and not someone else.

The rest of the party flows seamlessly. You’re spiralling slightly in your head though- overthinking can’t be avoided. The way Wonwoo was successful in riling you up has shocked you, to say the least. There have been a thousand such instances, but you don’t remember losing your temper to this extent in any of the situations. But somehow, Wonwoo talking about you not being interested to have children vexed you so much? It just didn’t add up.

It’s the first time you’re doubting your current situation. You’d been absolutely convinced that settlement between the two of you was more to your benefit than his. It wasn’t like you had a dearth of men wanting to fuck you. It was quite the opposite. But a few scandals and rumours had taught you that keeping your private life discreet was the optimal choice. Especially if you were a woman and people simply assumed you’d sucked someone’s dick to get ahead in life.

But the arrangement with Wonwoo was so perfect. He wanted discretion, so did you. He didn’t want to get involved with a random hookup who could get pregnant, you didn’t want a random hookup to get you pregnant. He wanted someone to match his wavelength, and you needed a vent for your stress. Now that you consider the drastic improvement in your energy and efforts, in retrospection, becoming Jeon Wonwoo’s submissive had been the best decision of your life.

It had begun quite suddenly. At your sister’s engagement party. Everyone was delighted with the new couple, especially you. Your sister had never shown any desire to join the company, satisfied with following her passion of ice skating. And now she was getting married to her boyfriend of five years, the love of her life, and everyone was left fondly jealous of the pure happiness on her face, even you.

Perhaps it was because of this jealousy that you’d decided to flirt with Wonwoo at the after-party. Against your better judgement, you’d drifted towards him by the end of the night, until your knees were touching on the barstools, and he was leaning back looking over your figure again and again. I was wondering which spot would be ideal for me to bite first- your collarbones, your cleavage, your thighs or your belly button, he would tell you later. God knows why you’d suddenly decided to find him attractive after fifteen years of knowing each other, but that was it. You’d ended up in a hotel bed that night, fucked until tears ran down your cheeks, begging him to go harder and faster whenever he slowed down to look at the mascara dripping down your face, leaving hickeys all over the soft skin of your breasts, not letting you rest of a second of the night, going at it till dawn.

“Wonwoo… I can’t…” you’d begged, your words muffled through your panties stuffed into your own mouth, the overstimulation hitting you hard as you squirmed against his tongue fucking his cum back into your pussy. “You can, sweetheart, give me another one… hmm? Do you want to be a good girl?”

And you had let loose. Given yourself up to him, to make or break you, as he wanted, and then put you together one by one as the sun rose up in the sky as you’d drifted to sleep. The next afternoon, you’d woken up feeling like a new person, and decided it was the best night of your life. The man in question was nowhere to be seen, but you didn’t care. The bliss ran too deep.

Sadly, not deep enough. The overthinking kicked in a few hours later, and you cussed yourself for becoming so easy for an undeserving man like Wonwoo. Just because he’d made you cum and given you a good time didn’t mean you’d go against your rational thoughts. In a way, he was no better than your best dildo. Except you liked your dildo. You simply did not like Jeon Wonwoo. The arrogant brat had been the type of man you’d avoided all of your life. You hadn’t seen him work hard in school, and now that he had inherited his father’s company, you didn’t see him work any harder either. Sure, Jeon Estates was doing better than ever, but that was only because the economy was booming and the housing market was doing well. He had done nothing extra. Unlike you, who had built your world yourself. You’d never taken your father’s prosperity as complacency, and strived to make a name for yourself. And now people knew of Y/L/N Corporation as synonymous to both your father’s name and your name.

And you had, like a silly stupid girl, gone and slept with this very man.

And you had liked it.

That was the worst bit. An accidental hookup would have been fine. But no, you wanted to sleep with him every night, if it meant he’d treat you to the same feast you’d blissed out on last night. There was a certain happiness in giving up to him, letting go of the constant worries that burdened you down, and allowing him to take control, but god knows how you ended up trusting him so much in bed.

Anyway, you reconciled with yourself, it’s just a one-time thing. It’s not like it’s going to happen again.

You were wrong. Jeon Wonwoo had picked you up that evening and taken you directly to his house.

“What did you want to talk about that you couldn’t do in your car?”

“The chauffeur was there.”

“It’s not a big deal, Jeon. You can just say that you regret last night, cause honestly, same. Don’t want to dwell on it.” You were in a rush to leave, because you didn’t want to think about the memories in this same house the night ago.

“Are you sure?”

His question had taken you aback, as he watched you with his hawk eyes, licking his lips.

“Y/N, I … couldn’t tell you in my car that I didn’t regret it. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

You’re speechless, waiting for him to continue, as he took another step forward.

“Wonwoo, I… you know this is a bad idea.”

“I do,” he chuckles darkly. “You look like a bad idea, as I’ve known for years now. But when I see you wearing that hideous turtleneck to hide the hickeys and that tiny skirt that leaves nothing to the imagination, I keep remembering the way you submitted to me last night. For all your big talk and your attitude, you obey pretty easily, huh?”

You stand up, indignant. “Wonwoo, you can’t use that against me. Listen I know we’re not friends-”

“Be my submissive. I want, no fuck, I need you. You’re perfect.” He’s standing an inch away from you, bending his neck gently to look into your eyes. His mask slips for a second. A million emotions flit through your brain, and you’re deliriously begging for your intelligence to kick in, but there’s something about the subtly layered desperation in Wonwoo’s voice that makes you curious.

“What are your terms?”

You look at Wonwoo across the dining table. He looks as put-together as ever, not a hair out of place, as he converses with the middle aged-men sitting next to him while eating dinner. He quickly notes your glance and looks back, and you turn your eyes away before he catches the blush along your cheeks.

No, there’s nothing wrong with the arrangement. It works perfectly in your favour. As long as nobody knows.

You’re wrapping up a meeting with the board members of the company, when you get a call on your phone. It’s Wonwoo. Excusing yourself from the meeting, you pick up the call while walking back to your office.

“Hello?”

“Are you going to the Paris Conclave?”

The invitation for the event had arrived just that evening, the first time they were inviting your company. It had made you gush with excitement, happy that you’d been able to take your company to this prestigious conclave. Moreover, this would be the first time you’d be visiting Paris, one of the few dream destinations of your life. Due to a packed professional schedule, you had hardly been able to travel for the past few years, and the thought of going to Paris made you naturally happy.

“Yes, of course. Getting fomo? I can get a croissant back home for you.”

“I can get my own. See you there.”

He cuts the call.

What was that? He’s going to the conclave as well? That’s impossible. Jeon Estates had never been invited before this-

“Jisung-ah.” You call for your secretary, who appears at your side quickly. “Has the Jeon Estates been invited to the conclave?”

“Ma’am, I- why, yes. I hadn’t checked the list for their name.” His voice drops as he speaks, mirroring the disappointment rising in you too. So, it wasn’t only you who had been invited for the first time.

Fucking Jeon Wonwoo. Even had to call you to rub it in, the nerve.

“Well, we’ll just have to outshine them there. I’m sure we shall. Please organise a meeting with the team leaders and managers today so that we can get the presentations perfected.”

Your secretary bows to you and leaves you alone in your office.

Paris comes sooner than you had thought, and you’re bursting with excitement. Nervousness too, a little bit. But your confidence isn’t so easy to rattle. You’ve picked out your choicest outfits for the trip, hellbent on making it memorable. You’ve even kept a few days extra in hand to allow you free time to travel the city.

You had asked your sister if she’d wanted to come along, but she had said that her doctor hadn’t deemed it safe for her to travel by airplane now. “I’m so jealous! But there’s nothing to be done.” “Go with your husband and your baby afterwards.” You’d kissed her forehead when bidding the final goodbyes before leaving for Paris.

There was just one little worry worming through your brain. Not even a worry, just an irk. Jeon Wonwoo would also be there. You’d have to compete again for the spotlight. As if the jerk deserved to be there.

“Ma’am, do you want to go through your speech once more?” Jisung asked you from the seat next to you. You smiled, the younger man was definitely nervous by the look on his face. “Why, are you scared I’ll forget? You know I take vitamins every day to strengthen my memory.” “I do, but-” “Don’t worry. Don’t let anxiety deter you from forming the memories of the fun times you’ll be enjoying there!”

Fun.

As if. Jisung knew well enough that you rarely had time for fun, and consequently, neither did he. He saw you overwork yourself every day, staying at the office till late, obsessed with perfection, ensuring no loose ends were visible. Even if you tried your best to send him home when his work time ended, he wanted to stay back out of compassion for you. He was truly the best secretary you could’ve asked for. He was godsent- he’d learnt your habits and your thinking process within days, and soon he produced documents and answers before you asked for them, pre-empting your thoughts. After working with you for three years, he was good enough to be your clone- that’s why you sent him to many events and meetings as your representative if you couldn’t make it. You knew he’d handle it as well as you would, and report all the key details to you at the end of the day.

“Yes, Ma’am. I hope it all passes well. We’ve all worked hard.”

“And hard work always pays off, you know that Jisung-ah. Now, sleep quickly so that we’re not tired due to jet lag once we land there.”

They’ve assigned Wonwoo a seat next to you at the conference table. As if seeing his face here wasn’t bad enough.

“Will you never leave me alone?”

He scoffs, “Me? You’ve been at my tail since you were a kid.”

“Oh shut up. Inside school, outside school, at parties, at funerals, at my graduation, at my sister’s wedding, you’re always fucking there. And now you’re here, to steal the spotlight. Not that you can anyway. Don’t try too hard Jeon, you’ll just look pathetic.”

“It’s funny how vain you are. You think I have any desire to steal your spotlight? Go ahead, be the talk of the party, by all means.”

“And I will! I don’t need your permission for it.”

“Hmm-”

The rest of his words get tuned out as the convenor of the conference begins their speech. You turn your eyes towards them, but you can feel Wonwoo’s eyes burning on you.

“What did you say?” You whisper to him.

“Never mind. Do you want to go out tonight?”

“Go out?” You turn your head towards him, leaning in, incredulous.

“For dinner.”

You almost burst out laughing. “And pray, why would I go with you?”

He scrunches his nose and pushes up his glasses. “You’re going to miss out on seeing the Eiffel Tower?”

“No. In fact, I have plans on going today myself. But you didn’t tell me why I’d-”

“Come with me.” He turns his face away from you, his expression cold and unreadable.

“Hell nah. We don’t know each other, okay? Just because we’re both newcomers here does not mean we have to maintain solidarity or any of that shit.”

“You’ll regret it, sweetie.”

“I regret nothing.”

“We’ll see.”

“Jisung-ah! You were scared for nothing. That presentation was flawless.”

“Yes Ma’am. I know our team always works hard, but the nerves never stop,” the young man looks much fresher after the conference wraps up for the day, his tie undone slightly. You can easily understand how his mood changes reflect in his facial expressions and attitude after the long hours you spend with each other on a daily basis.

“Are you still up for going to the Eiffel Tower tonight? I’m planning on skipping the post-conference dinner. But if you want to stay, I won’t force you to come with me.”

“No Ma’am, I was thinking…” he hesitates, but you raise your eyebrows to urge him to continue. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to visit the Eiffel Tower again, so I do want to go with you … but after that I’d like to go to one of the clubs in the nightlife zones? I’ve heard from friends that the Paris nightlife is crazy.”

“Ooh!” You pat him on the back, “Yes please Jisung, finally you’ve started to act your age. Go, be young and wild, I’ll cheer for you!”

“You won’t come along?”

“Oh no. I’m way too old for that. Plus I never was into the club scene. And for real, you should go out and enjoy without me sometimes. People will start thinking I’m your girlfriend.”

Jisung opens his mouth to say something, but ends up just smiling shyly. “Okay Ma’am. Then should we leave for the Eiffel at 7 pm?”

“Yes. Pick me up from my suite then.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Sorry Ma’am, the Eiffel Tower has been booked out for the evening. It’s been a really sudden booking, and we’re sorry for the inconvenience, but it’s just been booked out completely by a private party and no external visitors are allowed.”

You’re wearing your best white silk Gucci dress, the one you spent your entire salary on as soon as it was released at last year’s Fashion week, and a stunning Cartier necklace, ready to spend the best evening of your life atop the Eiffel Tower, savouring life at its finest… but no. Some jerk just had to book it for this evening.

You slide up to the lady at the front desk, whose bored expression does nothing to calm your nerves down. Jisung has tried his level best to convince her, but it’s failed. So you try the one thing you know always works.

“Ruth-” you see her name from her name tag pinned on her chest. “I can outbid the private party.”

“I’m sorry Ma’am, I didn’t get you.”

You laugh, a careful measured laugh, to hide your irritation at having to say it again. “I said, I can pay you more than whatever the private party’s booked it at. I just want ten minutes. Isn’t it a win-win situation for all of us? Ten minutes for me, and your private client can enjoy it for the rest of the night.”

Ruth smiles, pitifully. Wretched woman, she’s clearly not affected by your offer. This is what seeing too many rich people in a day does to a person, it immunes them to bribe, you think. Well, it’s her loss.

“I’m sorry Ma’am, but we really cannot accept your offer. It’s against our rules-”

“Let me speak to your manager, Ruth. Trust me, when they hear my name, they’ll let me in,” you smile again, attempting to remain amicable instead of bursting out into the wildest Korean slang.

Ruth smiles again, “You are, currently, speaking to the Manager here, Ma’am. We simply cannot allow any external visitors tonight. Can we book a slot for you tomorrow? If you’d like to visit again, in the morning or later.”

Jisung tries to interject, but he sounds resigned. He seems intimidated by Ruth, and frankly speaking, you get it. He’s just twenty four and spends over thirteen hours in a day with you, so he’s not used to snarky women. Well, apart from you, and you’re never snarky to him.

“Ruth, my dear. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I’m here at the Paris Conclave.” You say your name solemnly, expecting it to have the same effect it has in Korea, but alas, the woman remains untouched as ever. “I’m dreadfully sorry Ma’am- wait, did you say Y/N Y/L/N?” Your smile becomes wider. Oh so it does have the intended effect. “So you finally will let me in, huh? You do know who I am.”

Suddenly Ruth’s demeanour changes and she’s smiling pleasantly. “Oh Ma’am, the private client has specially informed us to allow you in. Only you.” “I’m sorry, what? Why would they suddenly ask for me-” “Mr. Jeon told us that you would be here. I’m so sorry for the miscommunication, Ms. Y/L/N-”

“Mr. Jeon?!” You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, you bitch. Aloud you say, “Mr. Wonwoo Jeon?” “Yes Ma’am. He’s booked the entire place for the evening. He has been waiting for you too,” Ruth smiles graciously, doing nothing to relieve your confusion. “There has been a mistake. I don’t think he meant me. We’ll leave now-” “Ma’am, I’m sure there’s no confusion now. Mr. Jeon asked us to bring you up as soon as you arrived. We’re sorry to keep you standing here on your date night.” “Date night? This is ridiculous. Wonwoo and I are not-” Jisung whispers into your ears right at moment, noticing your bloodshot wide eyes, “Ma’am, I think there’s no point fighting with them on this,” he says in Korean. “This lady seems adamant, and you shouldn’t miss out on an opportunity to visit the Eiffel Tower when it’s lit up so prettily. Even if it is with Mr. Jeon,” you wince at his suggestion, and he smiles apologetically. He’s right, you realise.

“Okay, but Jisung comes with me.”

“I’m sorry Ma’am.” Oh I’ve had enough of your sorries. “No one except you are to be allowed up.”

“Wow. First you say no external visitors. Now suddenly I’m allowed and Jisung is not-”

“Ms. Y/L/N, these are simply instructions from my client.”

Jisung bites his lip and says, “Well I guess it’s not written in my fate then. Ma’am, don’t miss out on my account. Please enjoy. I’ll just go downtown and waste the night away. I’ll see you tomorrow then? Please make sure to eat dinner!” You’re seconds away from whining and pulling another tantrum, but Jisung whispers fighting to you in his soft indulgent tone that he uses on you whenever you’re being a brat and he needs to take care of you. And then he’s gone, and you have no option but to face Ruth. That bloody woman. “Welcome to the Eiffel Tower, Ma’am. Please accompany me as we take you to the top.”

At the top, Jeon Wonwoo stands with a glass of champagne in his left hand and his mobile phone in his right.

“If you’re going to work on your phone and not enjoy the view, why the fuck did you book this place out?”

You walk towards the man standing in the open air viewing area, and he smiles at you. The annoyingly handsome smile, where his eyes crinkle up, and his perfectly white teeth are revealed in a rare display.

“You came. I knew you’d come.”

“How so?” A server appears from nowhere and offers you champagne too, which you accept. You’ll soon switch to whisky though, to calm your nerves down.

“You’re easily predictable. You act like any other average tourist, although you pretend to be such a princess.”

“Everyone comes to visit Eiffel Tower on their first day in Paris, Wonwoo, there’s nothing weird about this-”

“Exactly. Average. Me? I personally prefer to see it from the window of my hotel, so that I can see it in its glory without experiencing this slight dizziness and bling of the night view.”

“You’re stupid. That’s why you have such stupid preferences. This night view? Priceless.”

“Let me inform you, darling, it cost me a hell lot to book this. So not priceless.”

You laugh, looking at Wonwoo, who’s leaning against the railing facing you, and then back at the gorgeous night view. The Champs Elysees looks glorious with the lights. You can sense Wonwoo leaning in closer. His cologne and perfume mix to create a dark, musky smell that’s new. You’ve never smelled this on him before. “Why did you book it? That’s what I've been asking since forever.”

“I want to fuck you against this railing.”

You choke on the champagne, before catching your breath and turning back to face him.

“What?”

“You heard me the first time.” He maintains eye contact, but in that cold, nonchalant way of his, like he didn’t just propose the most scandalous thing you’ve ever heard.

“Aren’t there cameras?”

“Will pay for them to be turned off.”

“That’s probably illegal.”

“I don’t care. I’ll pay enough. Plus, I’ve already located the blind spots.”

You take a deep breath. As ashamed as you are to admit this, it does turn you on. A lot. If Wonwoo would touch you under your dress, he’d find evidence of the same. Sex like this- in public, definitely the most outrageous thing you’ve done. But Wonwoo suggesting it? The fact that he booked this place out on a probability that you’d come and a hope that you’d agree to it? The more you think about it, the hotter your body feels. You can feel your nipples straining against your dress in the cold air, and your face turning red with imagination.

“If you don’t want it, we can just eat dinner and leave.” Wonwoo’s eyes have become impossibly gentler but also darker, like he’s seconds away from losing his control. His sight betrays his words as he keeps looking at your lips. Thank god I applied the lip plumper tonight, you think. But then his eyes go to your breasts, like the pervert he is, and he smirks at the sight of the two nubs pressing hard against the soft silk.

You shake your head.

“Say it.”

“I want it too.”

“Atta girl,” his smirk widens, before he leans in to capture your lips. It’s a rough kiss, nothing romantic like one would expect atop the Eiffel Tower, but it sets the right mood for the night. You realise that all servers have disappeared, and you’re perfectly alone, as his lips move down towards your neck, leaving beautiful hickeys along the way. “It was torture and heaven waiting for you. Knowing you’d come, but fearing you wouldn’t.” His hands take away your champagne glasses and place them on a table nearby, before bending you backwards on the railing, making your head zoom more with pleasure. What if I fall off? What if someone catches us like this? What if he takes a picture of me like this in front of the view, with my tits out and my lipstick ruined?

“No bra, huh? You’re so sexy in this dress, I want to fuck you in it. You mind that?” You’re panting as he keeps kissing you in between his words, tongue dominating yours right away. It’s like a switch flipped inside you. Just minutes ago, you were so against sharing the Eiffel Tower view with Wonwoo, and now you’re letting him fuck you here. It drives you crazy.

“Wonwoo just- I don’t care, I need you now.” He bites all over your shoulder, slipping down the straps to grope your breasts in the rough-handed manner you like, sure to leave bruises with the way he kneads them while leaving open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone.

“Just because we’re out in the open doesn’t mean you forget your bedroom manners.” He bites down on your nipple, surely missing his favourite clamps back home, and you squirm in his iron grip.

“Sir please!”

“That’s better, sweetheart. But what do you want?”

“C-Co-” he alternates his bites with little kitten licks, looking up at you. “Articulation, baby. Speak up.” “Want your cock, in my m- mouth, Sir!” He pulls away from you, leaving the cold air to tease your bruised nipples, and laughs. Fucking laughs, but it turns you on again. “If you insist.”

He takes off his belt and ties your hands behind your back, and then pushes your shoulder down and you fall to your knees, and he stands back, tall. “Oh, what a pretty sight,” he sighs, taking in the night sky view, and then looks down at you, but makes no move to open his pants. You assume you’ll have to take care of it yourself, so you attempt to open the zipper with your teeth. It’s not particularly difficult, but in the process you get some drool over Wonwoo’s cock over his pants. “Tch. Dirty girl, drooling everywhere,” he wipes away the drool from the edge of your lips, before you slot your mouth against his erection, now free from his underwear and pants which have slid down his legs. It’s not as hard as it gets during sex, but that’s what you’re here for. Nothing but a slut for him to use. Your ankles burn against your heels in this position, but it’s okay. You’re losing your mind as you swallow his sheath inch-by-inch, until you feel his skin against your nose, and you stay like that for a second, easing out your gag reflex. But before you can move, Wonwoo thrusts deep into your throat, eyes not leaving yours. It makes you roll your eyes, the pleasure of the surprise way more than the pain, and makes you crave for more. He slowly wraps his hands around your head, a strong broad support for you to rest in, and continues to ram his dick inside your mouth. Your body becomes limp as you slowly surrender to his actions, your mind blank, except a crazy wanton desire to please him and make him cum. You’re too sex-crazed right now to reason out why only Wonwoo elicits this reaction from you.

But then his dick gets rock hard, and right when its weight becomes the best and warmest around your throat, wet with saliva and pre-cum, he pulls out. You can’t frame words instantly, but you whine. “Ah, Wo- I- pl- co- please…” He laughs cockily at your state, and you blush with shame at the way you’re acting. “Get up,” he walks away from you, leaving you to your own devices to stand up in those heels.

It strikes you yet again, just how open this all is. Anyone can walk in. The security guard may be jerking off watching this on the security cameras, and you won’t lie, it’s hot as fuck. The thought of Wonwoo and your activities being porn for someone else- oh fuck.

Wonwoo sits on a couch meant for visitors on the balcony. “Come baby,” he beckons, and you sit on his lap. His cock is still hard, leaking pre-cum, and you’re tempted to lick it off, but you won’t make a move until he tells you to. You can’t disobey him now- if he spanks you in punishment, you won’t be able to walk to the conference tomorrow.

“Spit on it.” And you do. Wonwoo likes your spit, for some reason, and you wordlessly obey. Then he pulls out something from his pocket, and you realise- “No Sir! Please, not the paddle today!” It’s a folded paddle, the pocket-friendly one you can buy at cheap sex stores. “I need to walk tomorrow, I can’t if you spank me-” “But you’ve been so naughty. Begging for my cock in a public place like the little slut you are. Not accepting my invitation to come up here and making me wait for so long. Turning my offer for dinner down at the conference this morning,” You try to protest, but he simply inserts his thumb into your mouth, and you instinctively start sucking on it. “Now be pretty, and let Sir show you your place.” While you’re still distractedly sucking the thumb, you don’t even realise when he’s lifted the back of your dress and the paddle hits the ass flesh exposed by your thong. “Count.” “One,” you whimper out, not wanting his thumb to slip out of your mouth. The spanks continue, alternating on ass. He can alternate between asses and keep the same pressure just by one hand, the other holding up your dress, his hands big enough to cover your entire ass cheek. The spanks burn more after the moment’s relief due to the cold air, and by the time you reach twenty, your knees have given up, and you’re drooling on Wonwoo’s shoulder.

“Don’t make a mess. Sit up straight.” As you do so, he asks you, putting away the paddle and tucking your hair behind your ears. “Have you learnt how to behave? Or do you need another reminder?” You fervently shake your head, but he whispers in his insanely sexy tone, “Words.” It makes you shiver, and you respond, “Yes Sir. I’ll not misbehave, Sir.” He smirks, and leans back. “Now ride me like you mean your words, darling.”

You don’t need another command. You sit down on his dick quickly, ready to take the burn without any prep, because you’re already leaking down your thighs. He grips your hips with one hand, steadying you, and cards his other hand through your hair. As you begin bouncing down on him, he shudders and releases low grunts, but nothing breaks his composure. He never once whispers Good Girl, as you cum once, but you still keep riding him to ensure he reaches his climax. Somewhere after your orgasm, he starts thrusting up from below to meet your efforts, and it brings him closer to his orgasm as he scrunches his nose and closes his eyes. When he does spurt inside you, he whispers softly enough that you almost miss it, “Fucking gorgeous.”

That’s enough praise for the night, you think to yourself, as you fall limply against his chest, nearly passed out from the strain, his cock still spasming inside of you. He soothes your hair, and you fall asleep.

“Ma’am? Ma’am? Please wake up! We’re running late. Ma’am? Ms. Y/L/N?” You open your eyes blearily to see Jisung shaking you lightly. Slowly you come to your senses, and you can hear his voice louder, and see the desperation in his face clearly.

Fuck.

What have you done?

“How late am I?”

“Not too bad, Ma’am,” Jisung scrunches his nose as he looks at the clock on your bedside table. “We have twenty minutes to go.”

“Fuck!” You scramble out of bed, not even bothering to check if you’re clothed, and make your way to the washroom. There’s a pain growing in your head, and it’s only when you see yourself in the mirror that you realise that you’re wearing a t-shirt and shorts. What even happened last night? The last thing you remember, as you try to recollect while quickly brushing your teeth, washing your hair and hopping into the shower all at the same time, is that you had passed out on Wonwoo’s shoulder. Then the world had gone blank. Fucked into oblivion, truly. He must have brought you into your room. Oh fucking hell, he owed you at least that much.

By the time you wrapped your bathing suit around you and walked back into your bedroom, Jisung was gone, but your outfit and shoes were laid out on the bed and there was a note, I’ll pack some breakfast for you, Ma’am. Please come down directly to the conference hall. Thank god for Jisung, that was one prayer you said everyday. He’d been partying too last night, hadn’t he? And yet, he had responsibly made it on time and woken you up as well. You were getting too irresponsible, too lax. Your discipline was gone and you mentally bashed yourself for it. All because of that stupid Wonwoo.

After that, it doesn’t take much time for you to get dressed. Jisung must’ve noticed the hickeys on your neck, and brought you a jacket with lapels and a collar high enough to hide most of the marks. You quickly tied a scarf around your neck, making it look fashionable by adding colour to the otherwise beige monotone outfit, and praised yourself mentally for looking this good even without makeup. Dabbing on some lip balm in the elevator, you quickly reached the conference hall, finding yourself a minute late. Again, thank god for Jisung, the boy had reserved your seat, made excuses on your behalf and kept a croissant and coffee ready at your seat, so that everyone greeted you with kind smiles.

Except Wonwoo, who had that unreadable expression again.

Must be pathetic, living like him. What worth was a face like that if it couldn’t express anything?

Four days later, you land in Incheon amidst the wildest of storms the country has faced in the year. You won’t admit it, but you’re glad you travelled in your private jet, where you can close all windows down and wrap yourself up in a blanket burrito to drown out all signs of the storm. You wish storms didn’t exist, and you wish no one would have to see you in this weak state. Not Wonwoo for sure.

After that first day in Paris, the two of you had barely interacted. Primarily, you were too ashamed to speak to him. How could you smile and talk normally to someone after getting railed by them on the Eiffel Tower, especially when that same someone was annoying as fuck in reality? Sure, eye contact had been made several times, over dinners, over the conference tables, when you’d been on the stage presenting, and when running into each other in the corridor. But words? You possibly couldn’t. It’d be too much for the fragile self-respect you’d been holding on to.

You really want to avoid him once you’re back in Seoul as well. The workload seems to have tripled in the few days you were away, with endless tiny emergencies and approvals pending to be resolved. You’re again thankful for Jisung, but there’s only so much the poor boy can do. You make it a point to send him home soon after his scheduled timing every day, but you can’t say the same for yourself.

It’s the fifth night of you eating ramen from a cup noodles pack and sipping on apple juice from a 1 litre tetra pack, that you finally give up on the abstention. It’s a hard decision, but somehow, your overworked brain and sleep-deprived body leads you to one craving, and one craving only.

Thirty minutes later, Jeon Wonwoo arrives at your office. He’s been to your office only rarely, as you both prefer to meet up outside professional areas, but in the darkness of the empty office, he can easily recognise your brightly-lit room. He’s dressed in formals too, as if he’s just got off work himself, and you think he may be in the same boat as you. But definitely not as much as you- you’re a perfectionist who looks over everything yourself, Wonwoo doesn’t even come close for sure.

“It’s one of those nights, huh?”

He gently opens the door and walks in. Everything about him seems to be delicate today: perhaps it’s because his shirt is damp from the rain he’s surely walked in, his hair is wet and falling over his eyes, and his tie is gone. His jacket is soon gone too, dropped off on the couch, and he takes off his shoes. They’re leaving slightly muddy footprints, and you wonder if Wonwoo even drove and came or just ran like a peasant.

“How’s work treating you?”

“Stop wolfing down that ramen, it’s not healthy. Not as bad as you, as I see. I finished up hours ago,” his eyes don’t meet yours, and you know it’s a lie. It’s one of the signs of lying, as you’ve picked up over the years. Wonwoo rarely breaks eye contact while speaking, always honest, and his lie is really odd to you right now. Why would he lie to you about this?

“I was wondering, if…” you stand up from your desk, taking in the figure of the man sitting on your couch now, manspreading and head leaning back. He’s tired, why did he lie about getting off early?

“Come here, princess.”

That’s all it takes, and you sit on his lap and wait for his lips to meet yours. He indulges you in your wish, and immediately the tension in your body eases out. Along with the stress of work, you’d been even more worried that he’d bring up your last night together, and you’d get too ashamed to remain turned on. But he doesn’t, and you’re glad. You let your lips be bitten by him, but then he soothes over the burns with his tongue. He tastes like candy, and you tell him the same.

“Hmm, low sugar.”

Then he picks you up and gently walks over to your desk, holding you in the same bridal pose without even a muscle flinching. With one hand, he clears the laptop sitting atop your desk to the coffee table, and swipes the rest of the clutter on the floor. It would’ve made you angry otherwise, but you’re already entering subzone with the way he’s handling you. Lips still locked on yours, holding you in that pose with just one hand as you hold on to his shoulders for dear life, it’s a crazy show of strength and you’re getting incredibly turned on by it. You let yourself go, giving it up to this person, who seems to be so reliable, so strong, so manly.

As he lays you down on the desk, he takes off your trousers and underwear in one go, and sits down on the chair you usually sit on.

“You’re so wet, so dirty. Did you touch yourself after texting me to come over?” Your pussy is at his eye level, and you’re looking down at him, his eyes menacing and beautiful at the same time. His question makes you squirm, as you reply, “Of course not.” Then there’s a slap across your cunt, and you whine. “Manners?” “Of course not, Sir.” “Liar,” he smirks, and dives headfirst into your cunt.

It’s a treat he rarely gives you. Only when he’s very happy with you- like after you’ve taken thirty spanks, or you’ve eaten dinner with him while having a vibrator stuffed up your cunt, or you’ve let him wash you in the shower (for some reason, Wonwoo likes that a lot. He ties you up to these poles he’s attached in his bathroom, and plays with your body by applying as much oil and soap he wants, making sure not to touch your pussy for hours, denying every release to you even as it builds up just from the oversensitivity of having your nipples and ass played with).

You wonder why he’s so happy.

But you can’t care enough, now that his tongue is working so hard against your clit. The sensation makes you lose all rational thought, as you lean back against the desk, mind empty, and just moaning his name. You remember the first few times he’d fucked you with your mouth gagged, but then he’d told you he likes your sounds way too much, so you’d stopped controlling them too. He gets what he wants. After all, only he can fuck you so well.

“Wonwoo, please-” He moves his head up, licking his lips which are glistening with your slick. “How do you address me baby?” “S-sorry! Sir, please I-” “Hmm?” He leans back in, humming against your clit. His tongue now moves to your hole, nose brushing against your clit. “Can I come? Like this? May I? Please?” When he moves away again for breath, he removes his hands from your thighs, and you see the red marks he’s left there just by how tight he was gripping them. It’s a wild sight, and your climax hits you right then, coming before he could answer. “So impatient, coming all over my face even when I’ve told you not to come without my permission.” But even his scolding sounds gentle tonight, softly chiding rather than his usual harsh coldness. In your post-orgasm clarity, you wonder again what’s gotten into him.

He licks away your cum, and it makes you burn with overstimulation. “Uhhhhh, please-please Sir!” “Stay still.” His hands are back at your thighs, spreading them apart, and he seems hellbent on getting another orgasm from you. Your screams are louder this time, and you’re growing even more desperate to get something bigger to fill you up. You wrap your hands in his hair, and tug unconsciously while he keeps licking at your pussy. His entire face is hazy with your slick, thank god he’d taken off his glasses earlier, but he doesn’t care. He keeps diving in.

“Sir, please, I’m going- uhhhh,” he pulls away instantly and smacks your cunt hard. “No coming until I allow you to. Let Sir have his treat.” “Please Sir I’ll be so good, I promise, I- please let me, just this once.” Another smack, and you’re screaming. Thank heavens the office is empty.

“Do you not understand my words? Should I retrain you?”

“No! I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Hmm, you better be,” and this time he doesn’t just lick your pussy, but also starts entering two fingers alongside his tongue, hitting your g-spot almost instantly. You’re whining yet again, losing your breath, but everytime you’re about to come, he pulls away. You can’t figure out how he realises, but soon two hours pass by, and you’re still being edged. Your legs are shaking, and you can’t think straight. You just want more of his fingers, you want his cock, inside your mouth, your cunt, hell, you just want to orgasm once.

“Girl, stop moving. You’re so filthy, dripping like this. What would your boytoy think if he saw you like this? Should I call him to clean this mess on your desk?” He’s curling his finger inside you, and it’s really hard forming words when you’re seeing stars like this.

“Sir, I-” “What’s his name? Jieun?” “Ji- Jisung. Aaah, please-” “Look at you begging. So pathetic. No wonder your secretary is so pathetic. He really likes you, you know?” Your eyes go wide, trying to register his words. “Why- why are you- how do you–” “Hush. I want to know, is he jerking off to you now? Thinking of how slutty you looked in those grey trousers, how perfect your ass looked? Bet you show off in front of him on purpose.” You’re squirming harder, not wanting to think about Jisung right now. “But- but daddy, I on- only want you!”

He laughs, then he leans in to whisper into your ear, “Daddy? That’s a first. Say it again.”

“Daddy, please! I only want your cock.”

“Really? So demanding, like a wife. But you’re just a slut. You’d do this to Jisung as well, won’t you?” “No! I swear- please. Daddy, just, it’s just you.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, I swear!” You nod feverishly, the sensation building up inside you again.

“Okay baby girl. Come for me. Come for daddy. Then I’ll take you home and fuck you good. This desk is too small.” You don’t need to be told twice. You gush all over his hands and some of your come ends up on your desk and his pants too, but he only chuckles. Licking off the come on his hands, he smiles. “You taste like sugar, sweetheart.”

The sheets you wake up in smell overwhelmingly like Wonwoo. The man is nowhere to be seen, but the blankets next to you are shuffled and the pillow has a dent, and you remember being caved by his warmth at night when the storm had hit Seoul again and you’d woken up for a second before falling asleep to the steady rise and fall of the chest wrapped around you.

You wake up slowly, adjusting your eyes to the sunlight. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in Wonwoo’s bedroom, but this is the first time you’ve slept over. Usually you leave, no matter how late it is. But it feels good. It feels oddly intimate.

Your legs burn when you walk, but you try to look for your clothes.

Your shirt is ripped again.

You strut out of the room after wearing your panties and bra, which is barely holding on to one hook remaining, and find the man standing in the open kitchen, wearing a tank top and sweatpants. He’s drinking coffee, and a book is in his hands.

“Wonwoo, you’ve torn my clothes again. How am I supposed to go home like this?”

He turns to face you, smiling and fixing his glasses, and standing up. He looks so good in the warmth of the sunlight falling on his golden skin. “You’re up.”

“Do you think I can keep buying new clothes?”

“Yes. Now, calm down. Do you-”

“Wonwoo!”

“For god’s sake, I can’t take your shit this early in the morning. You want to fight, please do. Not now. It’s too early. You just always find something up your ass and have to pick on me for nothing, huh?”

His smile has faded, and the warmth in your body seeps away. About time, though. You don’t want to start feeling safe in Wonwoo’s private space. It’s too intimate- waking up in his bed, seeing him walk around in sweatpants, drinking coffee he’s making for you. It’s too much.

“This has to stop, Wonwoo.”

“Okay, fine! I’ll not rip your shirts. Take my card and buy something-”

“This arrangement has to stop.”

He turns away from the coffee machine for a second, and stares at you. You walk towards him, and he looks even better up close. His tank top shows off his arms, and they look soft yet really firm. You want to touch-

“Why? Have I made you uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s not-”

“Do you want to date someone? You can, you know. I don’t care-”

“Wonwoo-”

“Did I hurt you? Was I too much last night?” he steps closer to you, furrowing his eyebrows in evident confusion, and you suddenly can’t breathe. His expression is very much readable and it only reads as one emotion- concern.

“Wonwoo, please.” You take a step back, hugging yourself with your arms.

“Does it hurt? I am sorry if it does-”

“It’s not your fault. It’s a me thing, I swear.”

His eyes become clouded by even more confusion, and you quietly walk away and sit down on the kitchen counter.

“This is becoming too much for me. I- I got into this arrangement thinking that it would be a good way to vent stress. But it’s toxic now- I can’t think of any other way to deal with stress except this. Don’t you notice how our meetings have become more frequent now, especially initiated from my end? In the last three months, I’ve initiated sex fifteen times, and you’ve only six times. You see? This has become my only solution now.”

Wonwoo doesn’t look at you, but he keeps wincing at your words as if he’s being hit physically. Then he responds, when you’re done, “That does sound like a you problem, like why-”

You slide off the counter with a huff, muttering Fucking jerk under your breath, but he catches your wrist before you can walk further away.

“Don’t touch me if you’re going to react like that. I fucking knew it, why did I even talk to you? I can just walk away, I didn’t even need to expose my weaknesses to you.”

He yanks you closer using your wrist. “This isn’t a war, Y/N. I don’t get off on knowing about your weaknesses, for fuck’s sake. Can you stop being paranoid?”

You sigh. You know you’re always paranoid around him- funny, because he’s seen you in more compromising positions than anyone else. If he wanted to blackmail you, or hurt you, by hitting your weaknesses, he would, you realise. Is that why you’ve learnt to feel so safe around him?

“I’m sorry I reacted like that, Y/N. Talk to me, let’s work this out together. Let’s set up a system to slow our meetings down if you like?”

You bite your lip, and look up at him. “How?”

“Umm, how about you start to find other sources for it? Like hanging out with friends? Developing hobbies?”

You huff again, twisting your hand out of his grip. “Wonwoo, if I had other sources, would I not use them?”

“Darl-”

“Don’t call me that! We’re not having sex right now.”

“Y/N. Take your time to find other sources, then. If I’m your only means of relieving stress, it is extremely toxic. You’ll become dependent on me, and-” his pupils shake, looking away from you, “you’ll find it tough to date and all. Been there. Done that. That’s why I can tell you this.”

You’re about to reply something, when your phone rings out in a shrill tone. Surprisingly, Wonwoo’s phone rings out at the same time too.

You jog into the bedroom to find your phone and pick it up. It’s your sister.

“Y/N-ie! You’re not at home?”

“No. Why? Are you coming over?”

“No, I just made Kyungmin drive us to your place to see your place is empty. Where are you?”

“Never mind where I am. Why did you come over?”

“Mum and Dad want us to have lunch with the Jeons,” you can hear her giggle. But you’re stunned. “With the Jeons? Now? Today? For what joy? Are we buying their company?” She giggles again, leaving you more frustrated. “You’ll find out. I’ll send you an address then, come over directly!” And she promptly ends the call, leaving you blank and confused. Your phone pings- there’s the address of a restaurant, and a message asking you to be there within an hour. You realise only now how late you’ve woken up, and you’re glad it’s a Sunday.

“Why am I eating lunch with your parents?” Wonwoo walks into the bedroom, that confused look on his face again. “I could literally ask you the same damn thing. What’s going on?” “Does it look like I’ve got a single clue, babe?” He smirks at your cluelessness, and walks into his ensuite bathroom, leaving you speechless. Did he just call me babe? You wonder, but then your mind flits back to the issue at hand.

“Wonwoo!” You scream at him from outside the bathroom. You’re sure he can hear you, so you don’t wait for a reply. “Yah! What am I supposed to wear? You’ve torn my clothes, you fucker!” Your stress levels are rising again. You’re going to have to go back home to wear something appropriate. You realise that you haven’t even brought your car. You’ll have to ask Wonwoo to drive you back. But fuck, what if your sister is still at your place? Then she’ll see you both coming together, and undoubtedly she’ll prod and poke you. Then you won’t be able to have the upper hand at lunch when Wonwoo signs his company over to you. But there’s no other option as well. Well, there is- you can always stop at a boutique or a shop to buy something and wear it on the go. But that’d mean you’d have to go out in this hideously ripped blouse of yours. Oh!

“Wonwoo! You dumbass! I hate you! What have you done now? Why are we going for this lunch? For god’s sake.”

“Stop screaming, woman.” The door suddenly opens, and a half-naked Wonwoo steps out, engulfed in the steam from what was definitely a very hot shower. You have to stop yourself from moaning out at the sight. It reminds you of the three times you’ve showered together, and you can’t help but think back to the vivid memories of those sessions.

“How can I stop screaming? I don’t even know what’s going on. You knew about this, didn’t you? Why are you so calm?” Wonwoo takes another step towards you, and he runs his hands along your arms. You shiver under his touch, realising you’re still wearing just your underwear. “Calm down. This isn’t a big deal, you’ve dealt with more serious issues. It’s just lunch.” “But it’s lunch with your family. I don’t even know why.” He presses a hand along your cheek, and you’re feeling even more conscious and nervous. Why? This is really unusual, because Wonwoo is right. You’ve been in worse emergencies. Why is this getting on your nerves? Probably because your periods are due this week. These are just your hormones.

“Just enjoy the food. You’re anyway good at ignoring me in public places, and you can do the same to my family too.”

You bite your lip, and shake your head. “I need fresh clothes.”

“Yeah okay. Get into the shower and clean yourself up. I’ll ask my secretary to send something over.” “What? How-” “I think she’s the same dimensions as you.” “Oh.” You step away from him, swallowing whatever words you had to say. “I’ll go into the shower then.”

Thirty-five minutes and a very nice warm shower later, you’re standing in the bedroom and there’s a very pretty black dress on the bed. There’s also a new pair of lingerie next to it, complete with red roses sewn into black lace. Wow, that’s what Wonwoo asked his secretary to buy, huh. He definitely knows her dimensions very well. And the clothes fit, almost perfectly as if tailor-made. The dress is of unknown brand but the feel of the satin on your skin feels nice enough for you to forget about its origin.

“Done?” Wonwoo steps into the room. “Jeez, can you knock? Scared me.” You’re applying Wonwoo’s sunscreen (frankly shocked to see him owning it, but then, his skin is pretty nice). You’ve also applied the same perfume as his, and combed your hair in a million different ways, to make up for the lack of make-up or your usual products.

“Knock when I’ve seen you naked in this very room a hundred times? No thanks. Let’s go, we’re late.”

“Hmm,” you slip your feet into your shoes and pick up your bag. “I’m ready.” So is Wonwoo, you notice, who’s dressed in a grey sweater and jeans. The softness of his clothes contrast the sharpness of his features, and it… looks nice.

It takes you two twenty minutes to reach the restaurant, the ride passed in silence as you catch up on work mails from your phone.

“I’ll go first, and you come ten minutes later, okay?” “Yeah. And Y/N, don’t tell them you were with me, okay?” “Of course not. I’m not a dumb nut like you.” And you shut the door of the car with unnecessary force as you walk out of the car. You swear you can hear Wonwoo curse behind you, but you give no fucks.

“Oh! Y/N-ie! Welcome!” You walk straight into the arms of your mother, who’s dressed in a gaudy dress that does not suit her figure. “Eomma! How many times have I asked you not to wear these dresses?” “Oh shush! I bought this last weekend. Don’t tell me it looks bad, I’m in a good mood now.” You grimace and walk towards the table where your sister, her husband, and your father are waiting for you, smiling from ear to ear. Mr and Mrs Jeon, and Wonwoo’s younger brother are sitting on the other side of the table, also smiling from ear to ear. The excessive smiles are disturbing you, you’ve positively never seen Mrs. Jeon smile that wide.

“Oh, you look so good! Did you lose weight, Y/N-ie?” Mrs Jeon beckons you to sit next to her, and she takes your hand in hers. You force a smile on your face, still clueless about what’s going on. You can only hope they start talking about it when Wonwoo comes.

Speaking of the devil, he does come way earlier than you asked him too. You’re suddenly nervous, as the families start smiling again. “Aigoo, our handsome boy is here. Sit here, sit here.” Your sister welcomes him and he sits wedged between her and his mother.

“Eomma, what’s going on?” he asks.

“Aah, straight to the point. Forget about that, tell us, did you both come together?” You spill out the drink from your mouth, almost choking. “Us? Together? Hahaha. No, of course not! Why would you think that Mrs Jeon? Hahaha.” “Hmm…” your sister exchanges looks with your mother and Mrs Jeon, before finally giving you that stupidly bright smile again. “Is there something you both want to tell us? We’ll give you a chance before-” Wonwoo interrupts, “Appa, what’s this nonsense? Just tell us without this suspense.”

Mr Jeon, who’d quietly been busy on his phone for so long, looks up and stares a little blankly. His wife nudges him, and then he seems to remember. “Oh, so, Wonwoo. You know you both can tell us what you want.” Your father pipes in, “Yes, same goes for you, Y/N.” Wonwoo and you exchange confused looks before you speak up, “Okay, but really. What’s this suspense for?”

“We know you’re dating.” Your sister blurts out, and there’s a sudden silence at the table.

You think your eyes may burst out from the shock, and the way in which your palms instantly become sweaty is a dead giveaway of your nervousness. “What?! Unnie, are you out of your mind? What the fuck?”

“Language, Y/n-ah.” Your mother says, “You think we don’t know what you both are doing, huh?” And then she giggles. The damn audacity.

“I think there’s some grave misunderstanding, Mrs Y/L/N. Y/N and I are… certainly, not dating.” Wonwoo’s mother grasps his hand across the table, and says, “Oh my son. My dutiful son. You don’t have to pretend about this. Just because Jeon Estates is rivals with Y/N’s company, doesn’t mean you both have to be secretive about dating!” There’s a little cough from both fathers, and Kyungmin and Wonbin, Wonwoo’s brother, burst out laughing.

“Eomma, we’re not hiding anything. It’s a fact, we aren’t-”

“Explain these then. Booking out Eiffel Tower for a dinner date, huh?”

“Eomma, how do you know? Are you spying on me?”

“No! Of course not! We just looked at your credit card bill, accidentally. Then I spoke to Bora, your secretary, and she confirmed that you’d been spending a lot of time with Y/N. Not only that, there’s more-”

“Yes, indeed. Y/N-ie, why didn’t you ever tell us?”

You gasp, feeling lightheaded. “Did Jisung…? That trai-”

“Not Jisung. Jisung wouldn’t open his mouth. So I spoke to your chauffeur. He tells me he regularly picks you up from Wonwoo’s place?”

That’s it. This is it. It doesn’t get worse than this. This is your end. Oh, earth, swallow me up.

“Darling,” Mrs Jeon rubs your back, “Please don’t feel so shy. We know that our husbands haven’t left a great friendship for you two heirs. But you need not worry about all this rivalry.”

Your sister joins, “Yes. I’ve convinced Appa, and our lovely Aunt Jiwoo has convinced Mr Jeon too. Oh you both are so silly, hiding a precious thing like this from us.”

Wonwoo and you glare at each other. You realise there’s no point in explaining things to these people sitting in front of you. If they’ve reached the point where your sister is calling Wonwoo’s mother as aunt, then they must have discussed this extensively before calling you two to this lunch. An ambush, that’s what this is, you think in despair.

“So what we’re saying is, instead of keeping it hidden like this, why don’t the two of you get married? Wonwoo-ah? You’re turning thirty next year, aren’t you? I want to see my grandchildren too,” Mrs Jeon says, and everything falls in place. This is blackmail. Your mother’s been asking you to get married ever since you took over the company, claiming that having a man at your side would help your life be perfect and free of any troubles, and even forcing you on some arranged dates. Wonwoo must be going through the same kind of thing, with him being three years older to you also. It fixes the nail in the coffin, and you stand up from your seat.

“That’s not happening. Mrs Jeon, Mr Jeon, Wonbin-ah, I’m sorry if this disappoints you, and the same goes for my family too. Wonwoo and I are grown adults. What we do is none of your business.”

“But if you are dating, what’s the issue with getting married? And from what I hear, it’s not even a recent fling. All this has been going on for a year now!” Your mother cries out loudly. Although you’re sitting in a secluded corner, the restaurant isn’t quite empty.

“We’re not… dating. That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you all along.”

“Well, then are you guys enemies having movie sleepovers?” your sister adds, and it’s too annoying. “And why did you come over in Wonwoo’s car?” How the fuck? But then you realise, nothing is beyond these women. They may be keeping tabs on your and his car GPS for all you know.

Wonwoo stands up, looming over your figure. “That’s quite enough. Like Y/N said, what we do is not your business. Thank you for your concern, and enjoy your meal. Eomma, since you’ve taken access to my credit card already, might as well use it to treat yourselves with this meal.” He steps out of the chair, and walks over to where you’re standing. He swiftly grabs your wrist, and pulls you away, “Let’s go. This is a waste of time.” And just like that, the two of you walk away.

Six days later, a wedding invite stands ready in front of you, held out in Jisung’s pale hands. “Does it look good, Ma’am? I’ll send it for printing then.”

You sigh, and nod your yes.

part 2 is now out!

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mxtantrights · 8 months ago

Note

Jason as red hood dropping off lost animals at a shelter and being smitten by one of the volunteers?

a/n: thank you anon for sending this in I could marry you!!! love love love this idea and If you want more.. my inbox is open!! <33 I hope you like it, enjoy!!

You think you'll have a door just for him. Only he can go through it, only he would have the keys to it. And he could come by as he pleases.

Yeah.

It's late at night when he comes in. The bell over the front door rings out and takes you out of your late night work. You were filling up needles for the night crew and also filling out paper work from earlier in the day.

"I've got another one." he says.

You lay down the needle and jog over to the front door. Jason Todd walks in with a cat in his arms. It seems calm and unmoving. It's white fur dirty and a bit matted.

"Highway?" you ask.

You take out your flashlight and carefully look at her pupils. They dilate to the light and track it as your move it around. No signs of a concussion but a scan would really answer that question.

"Yeah, she was doing cars left and right. Didn't seem hurt but you usually do scans right?" He asks you.

You look up at him.

You nod your head, "Yeah I can do an ultra sound...do you mind staying?"

In that moment, you try to dissect the way he's looking at you. No, you didn't mean for it to come out like that. But you did mean to ask. He's the one that saved her from the highway. His presence could help her stay calm.

Jason clears his throat, "Yeah I can, I can stay. Sure."

"Okay, follow me."

The cat, who Jason is calling Ziggy, is resting peacefully in a pen on her own. You close the gate gently and lock it after. You turn and look at Jason now.

He's standing a few feet behind you with his arms crossed over his chest. A serious look on his face.

"You know sometimes, it's not always a bad story. Sometimes its a good one." you speak.

"A cat on a highway dodging cars is a good story?" he asks you.

You sigh, "I've had some come in this office with extensive injuries and they were dumped on the highway. In a bag or no bag. Just left to fend for themselves in a dangerous environment."

"How do you do it?" he asks.

"Me being here makes a difference. I'm here when someone like you shows up with an animal in need. You make a difference too Jason." you answer.

He shrugs his shoulders, "I'm just doing what I can."

"Which is more than most do. So give yourself some credit."

"I don't really do that." he says.

"Well, you keep coming around here I'll do it for you." you reply.

He doesn't really answer. He just hums a response. An approving and a quite silent hum. But a hum nonetheless. You smile at that.

You remember the first time he came here and dropped of a lost bird. He barely said more than four words to you. He told you about the bird and then he parted ways. You didn't expect to see him again but he keeps showing up.

And you want him to.

#dc x reader #dc blurbs #Jason todd #Jason todd x reader #Jason todd blurb #Jason todd imagine

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ghostsslutss · 5 months ago

Text

welcome to my bar. whatcha ya feeling tonight? vodka? wine? or just apple juice. look at the menu and place ur order in the inbox.

credits to @bunnys-kisses x

𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐒 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔?

lando norris

max verstappen

fernando alonso

charles leclerc

carlos sainz

alex albon

franco colapinto

lewis hamilton

george rusell

ollie bearmen

arthur leclerc

joost klein

ski aggu

reece welsh

jordan riki

simon ghost riley

john mctavish

phillip graves

alejandro ganarcho

jude belligham

neymar jr

matt murdock

jason todd pop

nightwing

moon knight

vladimir makarov

toto wolf

homelander

billy butcher

the deep

a train

konig

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄

vodka soda - “your boyfriend wont fuck you like this”

rum and coke - “hm what was that again? speak up little one

gin and tonic - “such a good girl. aren’t you. my pretty little puppy.”

whiskey sour - “{dirty talk in their language}”

margarita - “remember, I am in complete control. your pleasure and pain are mine to give.”

mojito - “please ive been a good boy..”

long island iced tea - “fuck your going to get us caught one day aren’t you.”

tequila sunrise - “let me take care of you, let me lead, and you'll enjoy the ride.”

martini - “whos daddy’s little slut?”

cosmopolitan - “beautiful , beautiful thing aren’t you.”

daiquiri - “shut it- shut up.”

piña colada - “be quiet they will hear us.”

old fashioned - “wonder what your father think about this.”

negroni - “I'll do anything to please you, master. Just tell me what you want.”

aperol spritz - “you will address me as 'Sir' or 'Master'. is that clear?”

moscow mule - “you'll wear this collar as a symbol of your submission to me.”

paloma - “tell me your safe word, pet. I need to know your limits.”

mai tai - “thank you for the punishment. I needed it.”

amaretto sour - “please.. just let me cum.”

caipirinha - “oh fuck , your driving me crazy.”

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐁?

fabric (loss of virginity)

berghain (pregancy)

space (sugar daddy au)

hï ibiza (semi to public sex)

ministry of sound (enemies to lovers)

pacha (cheating)

privilege (dom x sub)

dc10 (intoxicated sex)

amnesia (university au)

printworks (alternative au)

output (age gap)

watergate (unprotected sex)

zouk (omegaverse)

exchange la (recording)

the warehouse project (phone sex)

studio 338 (pet play)

kitkatclub (cnc)

marquee (vanilla)

cavo paradiso (car sex)

liv (dirty talk)

avant gardner (gentle sex)

warung beach club (rough sex)

drai’s (mean!drink)

tunnel (aftercare)

rex club (size kink)

cielo (doggy style)

sub club (breeding kink)

egg london (cock warming)

sound nightclub (mafia au)

tresor (dumbfication)

𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒?

fries (character x character x you)

onion rings (creator picks kinks: may be dead dove)

mozzarella sticks (creator chooses drink and club)

chips and salsa (extra spicy smut)

guacamole (more comforting smut)

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dvmbification · 1 month ago

Text

PONYBOY ft. boothill

( synopsis ) it's pretty unprofessional to mess around with your work partner on the job—but a single ride, just for fun, wouldn't hurt.. ..right? (｡•̀ᴗ-)

( tags ) boothill x fem!reader, ñšfw, co-workers, alcohol, oral šéx ( m receiving ) cowgirl position, tit play, spanking, clothed šéx, photography of said šéx, under the influence

( wc ) 2.2k

( toni's note ) so uhh. yeah. dumbification is GONE kinda gone. welcome back?? i'll be reposting my recent works over here.. feel free to send any questions in my inbox or dms... boo fucking hoo to me!!! .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·.

“you can’t just boss me around!” he cackles. “then can you do me one last favor, pumpkin?”

“fine.”

you step outside to leave the cockpit, in search of something boothill had assigned you to look for. it was said to be inside a red crate, so it must have been inside the storage room, right? you eventually find the said crate after about ten minutes running around looking for it. the phrase ‘special supplies’ is plastered all around it. After taking a look at what’s inside, you find nothing but a flimsy looking camera. well, you thought it was flimsy. you boot it up, introduced to a high quality opening animation on the screen. not knowing how to navigate the camera, you press and play around the countless buttons on it, and one of them initiates a flash. a small film prints out the image you just took. this must be what boothill was looking for, so you take it back to him.

“perfect, we’ll be using this for the.. documentation of our mission.” he smiles as he gently handles the camera, careful not to break it. “we’re not gonna.. fight anyone?” boothill shakes his head. “come on. I was prepared.” “better luck next time! hah!” he cackles. “well, look at that,” you look through the window. “we’re here.” brushing the dust off of your pants as the gates of the ship open, a ramp slowly settles into the ground. “alright, where to?” “nowhere but forward.”

so you may have gotten lost in the middle of nowhere. it felt like days on end, days of you and boothill searching for the town you were supposed to look after. the eternal scorching heat of the sun pricked at your skin, covered in a thin coat of sweat. you looked like you’ve seen the end of it all, while boothill barely broke a single sweat, he looked untouched–unscathed. “don’t you have some GPS device installed inside of you?” your brows furrow and eyes squint. “I’m a cyborg, not some multifunctional home device.” you groaned, but momentarily let out a small gasp. “i can see it.” your hand grasped at what seemed to be nothing as you collapsed to the ground in victory. “see what, the light?” you wheeze a simple no, he turns to see whatever your hand could possibly be pointing to. “holy shirt. we’re actually here.” a cluster of buildings could be seen in the distance. “finally!” you almost sobbed.

“that feels amazing..” your parched throat cleared up after a few desperate gulps of water. “just what i needed.” boothill heaved, placing a now empty whiskey glass back on the bar’s counter. “boothill,” he looked in your direction. “we should be settled in a hotel by now.” you yawned. “come on! let’s have a little fun. you drink, don’t you?” he said, handing over a glass of whiskey. you hesitatingly took his offer, taking the shot. you eventually loosen up and get into it,

It was hours and hours of talking, full of random conversations, and small talk. you would mention whatever crazy thing you thought of, paying no mind to what your sober self would say about these decisions. It was until you acted out one of these crazy thoughts of yours. “and then i–hey, sugar, what are you doin’?” his eyes were open wide in genuine curiosity and shock, at what you were doing right now, and what he knew you were about to do. you leaned forward to feel around his chest, one hand tugging at the zipper of his jacket, and the other leading up to take his hat. you slowly take the hat and place it on your head–all while keeping your eyes on the cowboy. “sugar, i don’t think you know what you’re doin’. you know what this means, right?” he looked eager himself to grant what you wanted–but now and here was definitely not the time and place to do it. “oh, trust me,” you bring your face closer to his. “i know. please.” boothill’s eyes soften, bringing himself to whisper in your ear. “not here. come with me.” your eyes widen as he sweeps you off of your seat with a single arm, carrying you bridal style. “here’s the money, sir. keep the change, thank you kindly.”

he grabbed your things with his free hand, and took you to a small, local inn in the town. you grew impatient at boothill, who did his best to be as quick as possible–practically throwing money at people instead of paying them properly, like the bartender or hotel concierge, without a care in the world. he had one thing in mind, and it was to get the two of you some privacy–for what was to come. the door behind boothill–who was still carrying you–had closed shut. “boothill–” you yelped as he dropped you on the bed. “eager, aren’t we?” your words slur. he turns to you with a dark look in his eyes. “you made the move, don’t you want this more than i do?” well, he was right. the two of you have been waiting for this for a while, but it was mostly you who subtly pushed the idea onto him. he always played around it, but now was truly the moment for him to take action on it.

his eyes flicker down to your lips, giving you a hint of what he’d do next. he hesitates for a moment, but soon gets into the sensation of kissing you. It was slow and sensual, tongue massaging the other as lips crash into one another. you break away to catch your breath.

despite being so eager and hungry like some dog moments ago, he surprisingly took things slowly. he kneeled down and folded his body to meet yours. feeling around your clothed body, his hands patiently explored the planes of your abdomen. little shivers would send down your spine when his fingers would brush against the more ticklish parts of you–particularly near your already wet heat. he’d bring his hand to play with one of your tits, as he kissed around where he pleased, palms kneading the flesh and fingers toying with your hardened nipples. they were sensitive, and you knew that. but you didnt know they could get this sensitive–especially when they’re not even bare. “i need more..” you bite your lip, rubbing your thighs together to compensate for the lack of friction between them.

while he mindlessly grinds the mattress beside you, he slips his hand underneath your blouse, to have his cold metal thumb to play with your stiffening bud. boothill’s eyes blow wise after a moan slips out of you. wanting to hear more, he climbs on top of you to rut into you instead.“may i?” you nod, and he slips his other hand to play with your other, neglected breast. as you pant and mewl, he nudges you to the edge, grinding his hips into yours fervently, brushing his fingers against your nipples with a steadily quick pace, and lips travelling down from your mouth to suckle at the crook of your neck.

you whine as he sucks harder and harder, leaving small, dark bruises. “h-hey.. stop. it hurts.” and he does. he pulls away and licks his lips, thumb brushing them right after. “sorry, sugarplum.” his words start to slur as well, his southern drawl thickening. “wait, did you really–”

“i did. because i care, hon.” your heart pounds and melts into mush at his small but meaningful words. but well, now you didn’t want to stop. you pull him up by the collar of his jacket to turn him around and push him back down. “may i?” he pleads a yes, and you then hurriedly unbuckle his belt to slip it out, and pull his tight leather pants down to reveal the very evident tent in his boxers. It was soaked in his arousal, which you knew was synthetic–but it still amazed you, knowing how detailed his anatomy was constructed to be. you slip his boxers away to see his erection spring up. you felt a wave of fear crash through you. how is this thing gonna fit? you shake away those useless thoughts and test the waters.

you experiment things you’ve thought about on him, starting by lightly stroking his dick. he brought his palm to cover his mouth, and squeezed his eyes shut–to prepare himself for whatever you had in store for him. “what, do you not like it?” you ask with genuineness. “n-no. i love it..” his face flares up in arousal, a deep blue appearing on his cheeks. his sensitivity settings must be high. your tongue flicks at his tip, then swirling your tongue around it. you attempt to take him in his entirety in your mouth, just to further lubricate him. but to be honest, it was pretty difficult to take more than half of his cock inside.

his dick reached the back of your throat by now. your head sloppily bobbed up and down, wrapping everything around him until you reached the base. he groaned and covered his mouth again, to suppress his whimpers and moans. “oh fork me.” you pull away with a pop, and start to unbuckle your own pants.

“whatever you say.” hearts practically carved into your eyes, your face showing a newfound kind of love for him. your trousers are pulled down, with your panties pulled to the side. you drag his cold and hard tip along your folds, teasing boothill. “do you like it like this?” you ask, continuing to rub your pussy along his tip. “as long as it’s you.” he would always sweet talk you just for the sake of sweet talk, but now it feels full of love and genuine care, it was like sugar. “stay still, sugarplum.” he fixes his hat on your head as it threatened to fall off.

“now, i think you should stay still.” you drop your hips without warning and snuggly wrap his dick with your warm walls. you groan in unison holding onto each other for dear life. his hands reach to grab your ass, smacking it firmly seconds later. you squeak. “ride like there’s no tomorrow, baby.” boothill glares with lust and love in his eyes, staring you down. you slowly move around his cock, grinding against his hips to get into motion. slowly but surely, you began to bounce on it, a wet smacking sound filling the room. with each thrust after trust of yours, he bucks up his hips to hit that spongy spot inside you. your arousal squirts everywhere as you squeal and scream his name endlessly. “that’s it, babygirl. keep going.” he spanks your ass again, having you squeak and throw your head back.

he pulls the camera from earlier out to take a shot. “smile!” the camera’s flash lights up the dimly lit room for a second, and reflects on your skin–which was coated in a thin sheen of sweat. boothill took a few more pictures, of your fucked out expressions, or crazy angles of you bouncing on his cock.

“i’m–i’m gonna come.” tears roll down your face, which are soon wiped away by boothill’s thumb. he hums lowly, telling you to go ahead. you yell out his name as you cream all over his dick, cum slowly dribbling out. his own climax follows after yours, and babbles your name drunkly. as you both come down from your highs, he comforts you as you sob and cry through it, waves and bolts of pleasure crashing and striking through you. all this tension between you two had finally been broken, and this might have been your best orgasm yet.

you languidly grind your hips against his, riding out your high. “ready for round two?” his hand rakes through your hair. your eyes light up. “hell yeah..” you were ready for another go, but your body said otherwise. you plop down on top of him in defeat. he lets out a soft laugh. “It’s alright, sugar. don’t sweat it.”

you raise your hips up for his still hard cock to pop out. boothill turns you around to pepper you–and especially your neck, in small pecks and kisses. you pull the hat on your head to cover your flushed face, but he pushes it back up to see you again. “I might just give this to you, you look good with it on.”

“you know,” he says in between kisses. “i’ve been waiting to do this with you for a while.” “really?” you coo. he hums in response, continuing to adorn your neck in loving marks. “i’ve just been.. waiting for you. I want to respect you and your decisions as much as i can.” “are you serious?” he paused to look at you, waiting for what else you had to say. “I’ve been hinting this at you for months..” nonetheless, your heart practically melted at those sweet words of his. he chuckles softly. “well, we both get want we want now.” “yeah.” you gently cup his cheeks as your forehead touches his. you both giggle.

“by the way, can i see the photos?” you’re curious about the shots he took.

#( dvmbification )#boothill #boothill smut #boothill x reader #boothill x fem reader #honkai star rail boothill #hsr boothill #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr smut #hsr x reader #hsr x fem reader #honkai star rail x fem reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr x you #boothill x you

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amethystfairy1 · 3 months ago

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Regarding the Iskall Situation...

I've received a lot of asks wondering about what my take is on it, and since I'd prefer to have it all taken care of in one swoop so we don't have to continue to focus on it, here's my stance on the subject.

A: Yes, I have seen the credible evidence from Kasszki, I read the doc they posted, and I feel awful for them and the other victims that they had to deal with this. I'm glad to hear that the Hermits and others were supportive of them and helped them handle this situation in as professional a manner as possible. I have also seen the credible information from False that Stress left for her own separate reasons.

B: I strongly denounce Iskall's behavior, and I have absolutely zero intention of supporting him as a creator ever again.

C: Please don't pester the creators or the victims. I said it in my initial response to this situation before we knew what had happened, but my opinion remains the same here. Any information we get from the Hermits is a privilege, not a right. Hermitcraft and it's associated fandoms are well known for being healthy, good spaces, and I'm proud to be a member of this community. Now our money is where our mouths are. Please don't feed into the rumor mill, please continue to support the Hermits as you always would and don't pry or demand more details from them. This is a very difficult situation for all of us, and I'm certain it's even worse for all of them. Please keep in mind the Hermits are all grown adults, many of them had professional careers before they joined Hermitcraft, and they are handling this in as professional a manner as they are able. I applaud them for that. As their fans, we need to do the same.

What are my plans for Iskall and Stress in TTSBC?

Understandably, I've received several asks about what I plan to do about Iskall and Stress's characters in TTSBC. I've answered them individually, but I just want to put this here as a one-stop spot for what my stance is so it's clear.

I've always been a 'character not content creator' author. My characters are just that, characters. Does that mean I can completely remove them from the creators upon which they are based? No, of course not. That's not how this works, either. So here's my plan moving forward.

The two stories that heavily feature Iskall in TTSBC, "Run with It' and "Carry me Home Tonight" will remain up. They are timestamped with their dates of posting which was long before any of this came out, and again, they are very clearly meant to be characters, not the creators.

Iskall will be removed from the TTSBC: Wiki, and I will not be writing any new content for his character.

Does that affect the plot of TTSBC? Yes, it does. I'm not going to pretend it doesn't, and those of you who have followed the series at length can likely see where the issues arise...but I'm an author, and I can pivot. I also have an awesome little team behind me of @silver-sunray, @boo-the-ahh, and @khoirkid who are helping me to make sure TTSBC carries on smoothly despite this unforeseen struggle.

Stress will not be removed from the TTSBC: Wiki. As I mentioned in an ask earlier, her role in the story is very minor, and I hadn't planned for her to have any other pieces to herself outside of Hermit-a-Day May anyway...so aside from specific instances where it might be necessary to mention her, she will not be making any more major appearances. This is mainly because I'm a Hermit/Traffic/Empires writer, and I plan to stick to that notion unless future events cause me to pivot otherwise.

Lastly, I would appreciate if we could avoid anymore asks about the situation. If there are any further updates I'm sure I'll find that out on my own, I'm very active in this fandom and I see things pretty quickly when they spread, so if any new things related to this situation spring up, while I greatly appreciate your concern for me and my work, please don't send it to my inbox or in DM.

I'm very saddened by this, as I'm sure many of you are. Hermitcraft and it's associated fandoms have been my safe space for many years, through some of the hardest moments of my life, and with the mess that MCYT has proven itself to be at times, it felt like we were untouchable here. But like Doc said, the Hermits are good, and they are strong. And as their fans and supporters, we need to be the same.

Be good, be strong, and let's make sure our lovely community continues to be the positive space it always has been.

-Amethyst

#iskall situation #amethyst rambles #ttsbc #ttsbc au #through the sky blue cracks

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heyimkana · 3 months ago

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Untitled

Pairing: Yuuta Okkotsu x Female Reader

Word Count: 5K (I feel like I should apologize but if you’ve seen my other works, this is considered super short I’m being fr rn)

Summary: Yuuta is your new neighbor, and everyone loves him because of his sweet and kind personality. He has a crush on you, but you’re a married woman, so you can’t reciprocate his feelings the same way. But when your husband starts cheating on you, you can’t help but turn to him for comfort.

Content Warnings: alcohol, swearing, adultery/cheating, age gap (Yuuta is in his early twenties, reader is almost in her thirties), unprotected sex, also Yuuta going down the yandere route at the end I'm not playing so if it's not your cup of tea don't read

A/N: wrote this in one sitting after aleks @yuutito said something about yuuta and older woman that rewired my brain (how dare she went to sleep after casually telling me this like I wasn't going to just just sit there thinking about *redacted*-ing this ver of him in 124352 different positions). i was supposed to be watching my kids playing in my backyard but i wrote this instead. pls don't call child support. this is also supposed to be a drabble 🤡 🔫 i was going to send it to her on discord but a few people were asking if i was dead (girl, only on the inside lol) cause i haven't posted in a while so hi everyone guess who came back from the war (i'll go through my inbox asap i promise ily)

P.S: don't use your brain when you read this cause i certainly didn't use mine when i wrote this only my dick

Yuuta Okkotsu is your new neighbor.

He lives across the street, and you’re not close to him, not yet. He’s younger than you, much younger than you—a fresh graduate from a reputable university who’s lucky enough to be able to work from home. He doesn’t go out much, but he’s friendly, always leaving good impressions around the neighborhood. Everyone knows Yuuta. Everyone loves Yuuta.

The first time you asked about him, purely out of curiosity, was when you greeted your neighbor next door, an older woman living alone ever since her late husband passed. She just got home from, what you assumed, another trip to the clinic. You saw him stepping down from her porch after making sure she was okay and bidding her with a polite bow. You traded smiles with him, but he didn’t stop for a conversation. You just saw his face turn scarlet at the sight of you, and he dropped a quick “Hello” before he bolted.

“Who was that?” you asked.

“Oh, he’s our sweet neighbor Yuuta.”

“Sweet neighbor Yuuta,” you laughed a little. “He just moved here like three days ago, and everyone calls him that.”

“Because it’s true!”

“Uh-huh, and what did he do that was so sweet to you?”

“He’s helped me with my chores—washing the dishes, bathing my cat, mowing my backyard. He saw me having trouble crossing the street yesterday, so he offered to take me to the clinic today. Such a sweet boy, that man. Very handsome, too.”

That last part you could agree with. Instantly.

You see Yuuta occasionally, always by coincidence, like maybe in the morning when you leave the house to put out your trash or grab a newspaper. He always seems like he’s eager to strike up a conversation but gives up before he can, simply because his heart can’t take it. You know he has a crush on you; it’s clear as day. He’s young, and he’s in love. It’s cute. But you’re married and committed, so that’s that.

You meet him more frequently when he starts going to the same local supermarket. You bumped into him in one of the aisles, with him approaching you first because he saw you struggling to get that ketchup bottle on the top shelf. He’s so polite, and he’s, indeed, very sweet, especially to the elderly, always taking his time to humor them when nobody else seems to pay them any attention. He grabbed the bottle for you, and you ended up chatting with him while waiting in line. He offered to help carry your groceries, and you were thankful because you weren’t sure you could bring everything alone. He walked you to your car, bade you good night, and told you to take care.

He’s your sweet neighbor Yuuta.

Things haven’t been going well with your husband. It’s fight after fight after fight. At first, your relationship became so strained because you couldn’t conceive even after two years of marriage. The truth is, you don’t want to have a baby, not too soon, not when you still want to focus on living your life, but he wants it terribly, and if you want your marriage to work out, there’s no other choice but to try. You’re somehow glad that the universe seemed to work in your favor, at least for now.

You’re unsure if it’s your fault or his—you don’t have the money or time to get yourself tested. Nevertheless, he kept trying, turning your sex life into a string of dull experiments, one after another. It didn’t come as a surprise that after a while, he gave up. What did come as a surprise was when he started cheating.

You have reasons to back your assumptions from all the evidence you’ve found along the way. The lipstick stain on his shirt, the hint of female perfume in his car, the way he never left his phone out of reach, terrified of you looking into it. It’s enough.

It’s Friday night. Your husband won’t be home until late. Still got a bunch of stuff to do at work, he said, which is another way of saying, I got my secretary sucking my dick since you barely even bother anymore. Which is true.

You’re tired of him. You’re tired of having sex with him where he only cares about him cumming inside you and nothing more. You’re so tired of fighting. And now that he's cheating on you, you grow too tired to care. About him. About your marriage. About everything.

So, you head down to a bar one night just to distract yourself. And there he is again. Yuuta. Sitting by himself, watching a football game on the big screen with a beer bottle in hand. He looks rather… lonely, a new face that makes your heart twitch a bit. His solemn look makes him more gorgeous in a way, more mature, more mysterious, and girls love that, don’t they? A slightly dangerous aura to a very sweet face, unapproachable yet inviting.

But that doesn’t last too long because the moment he sees you, his face brightens entirely. He smiles, standing up from his seat to greet you, and you meet him halfway. You end up chatting all night. He’s a fantastic listener, and he’s so kind and thoughtful with each word, comforting you the way you need the most. It’s embarrassing that you nag about your husband like this, but he seems genuinely interested in helping you convey your emotions, and you just can’t stop. It feels so liberating.

Yuuta buys you your favorite drink but also reminds you not to get too much alcohol in your system. You begin to trust him, knowing for certain he won’t take any advantage of you. He walks you home right after. It’s true that he lives right across your house, but he makes sure you get inside safely. He leaves only after he sees you close and lock the door behind you. You spy on him from the window, wanting to see what he does after you’re gone. You see him rubbing a hand over his face, flushed from ears to neck, looking extremely happy that he got to spend time with you.

He’s so cute, you think to yourself. Like a high school lovesick boy, kind of cute.

Yuuta then notices your husband’s missing car, meaning that you’re alone in the house. He looks sad on your behalf, which is so kind of him to think about your feelings that much. Then he turns upset, as if he was thinking, how dare he stay out so late, leaving her without protection like this. Looking visibly worried, he then texts you, “Let me know if you need anything, okay? My door is open for you anytime.” You smile and promptly reply to him with, “That’s so kind of you, thank you.”

He’s your sweet neighbor Yuuta.

These friendly sorts of private meetings between you and him go on for a while. Your husband often arrives late, usually drunk out of his mind or too tired to stay for a chat, and he heads straight to bed without even giving you a goodnight kiss. It hurts, but it’s fine. The more your husband breaks your heart, the harder Yuuta will try to mend it and make it whole again. And he did. Every night, when you’re lucky enough to see him, you’ll feel like a heavy weight is lifted from your chest. You feel… happy, even in this terrible situation, and it’s all because of him.

You usually hang out with him at the bar, but sometimes you don’t feel like going for a ten-minute drive, and you choose to just cross the road and knock your fist against his door. No matter what hour you visit, day or night, for a morning latte or evening tea, he always greets you with the prettiest smile.

He’s your sweet neighbor Yuuta.

Weeks passed by, and now you spend most of your free time chatting with him, sitting on the couch in his living room, and talking about yourself more than you ever did with your husband. He likes listening to you talk about yourself, and he tells you that you shine so brightly when you talk about the things you’re passionate about. He always stammers out his praises, looking like he’s seconds away from combusting into flames just from calling you beautiful or something. He’s so young, so inexperienced yet passionate when it comes to love and romance, and it shows.

You ask questions about himself, too, and you can understand why it’s addicting for him to watch you speak, because the second he does that, he’s breathtaking.

You find out that he likes the things you like, he’s watched the movies you’ve seen, and he’s read your favorite books. It’s not just a coincidence, is it? Maybe you’re a match made in heaven. But even so, nothing happens. He’s too respectful, and he makes you respect yourself. You’re married, and he’s a close friend of yours. That’s it.

He’s just your sweet neighbor Yuuta.

One morning, you find a bouquet sitting on your porch. Oh, right, today’s our anniversary. Your husband has this habit of sending you your favorite flowers on your anniversary. He does this every year, which is nice of him, but you really didn’t think he’d send you one this year, seeing how he barely exchanged more than three sentences with you. So now that you receive his flowers, you’re beginning to think, oh, maybe he’s trying to fix things between us. You’re not sure if you want that, though, not anymore. Most of your heart already belongs to someone else, which is terrible since you’re married, but you can’t help it.

You pick up the flowers anyway; too pretty to be thrown away. You open the card attached to it. I will love you forever, it says, written in his handwriting. The way he wrote the letter f is a little different. Looks like he wrote in a rush, you presume. Either that, or he just didn't care enough. And it’s whatever; you didn’t expect much anyway. You appreciate the thought until your eyes land on the name he wrote.

That’s not my fucking name.

He must have sent flowers to his secretary at the same time and had his card switched. That fucking cheater.

You thought you didn’t care about him anymore, but God, now you’re livid.

Yuuta shows up at the perfect place and at the perfect time. He invites you over to have dinner together at his place. “J-just, you know, as friends,” he says, unconsciously giving you the confirmation that he does not think of you as a friend. Not at all.

So you come over in a beautiful red dress later that evening, and he stares at you, completely in awe, for a good three seconds. “You, umm—” He blushes madly, his head so full of steam he could barely think. “You look like… like a goddess.”

“Thank you,” you simper. That was so corny for him to say, but he meant every word, which makes it endearing. “You look amazing, too.” And he is. God, he looks so handsome in his black buttoned-down shirt, and his parted hair, and his sweet, sweet smile.

I want to fuck the shit out of him.

It’s the monster inside you who speaks it. The part of you that’s been neglected for so long, that’s never been touched in the way you wanted to. And it’s screaming, begging for Yuuta to love you.

But no. We’re friends. We’re just friends, aren’t we, Yuuta?

Yuuta cooks, too, apparently. Every dish looks fucking delicious, and everything else is perfect. The table setting decorated with your favorite flowers. The scented candles with your favorite fragrance set up romantically on top of the cozy fireplace. The soft music playing in the background, a piano instrumental of your favorite song. It’s like a date. A celebration. Like something you should’ve had with your husband today.

“You did all of this on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Hmm?”

You gesture to your surroundings. “We’ve read the same books and watched the same movies. Okay, fine, maybe we have the same taste. But this song, those flowers, everything you’ve set up in this room, you did all of these for me, didn’t you?”

He pauses before he tucks his chin, avoiding your gaze. “I just… wanted to make you happy,” he confesses bashfully. “Is it… Is it too much? Do you not like it?”

“Yuuta, of course, I love it.” You stroke his arm, washing his worry away. “I just… I’ve never had someone care about me this much before…”

He melts under your touch, and there’s so much he wants to say, but his lips form nothing but a sad smile. He caresses your face with tender hand, his fingertips quivering slightly when they land on your cheek. His heart must be beating like crazy right now, you smile to yourself, leaning further into his touch to soothe him.

“I would do this every day for you if you let me,” he whispers, promise behind each word. “I would make you happy, so happy you’d forget what sadness feels like. What loneliness feels like.”

That stirs something inside your chest. “And what do you want in return for that?” You slide up a hand, testing his limit.

He stops your hand by covering it with his own. For a second, just for a brief second, he emits a different feeling. There’s intensity behind his gaze that burns you as if he wanted you all to himself. And that’s understandable. No man, especially one who’s so desperately in love like him, would want to share his woman with someone else, but he knows the situation they’re in, doesn’t he? It’s just not possible for you to be together, not now, not completely. Maybe that’s why he switches back in a blink, smiling until his eyes crinkle adorably. “Nothing,” he answers. “As long as we can be friends like this, it’s more than enough for me.”

He’s a terrible liar, you think, slightly amused. It’s cute how he tries so hard to conceal his feelings and you still can read him like an open book.

The food tastes as amazing as it looks, even down to the last bite. You don’t talk about the bouquet, afraid that you’ll ruin the mood, but Yuuta is always so attentive when it comes to you. He asks you what happened, and he hugs you the second he sees tears brimming in your eyes. You’re not sad. You’re fucking angry. And thank God Yuuta is there to let you vent your frustrations. You go as far as telling him almost every little shitty thing your husband did to you behind your back, as well as the slutty secretary that’s been sleeping with him for money. It feels relieving to finally say their names out loud, with so much hatred, so much rage, and to have Yuuta respond with, “No matter how pretty she is, she’s nothing compared to you. Your husband doesn’t deserve you. If I were him, I would’ve—” he stops himself, just in time, flustered and mortified under your gaze.

You’re older. You’re older than him by eight, no, nine years even. You know what’s going to happen if you encourage him to say the words he’s been dying to say. You know what it’s going to do to your relationship. But fuck that. If there were one man in this world who knew how to treat you like you deserve…

It’s your sweet neighbor Yuuta.

So, by the time the two of you move to the couch with some wine in your system, you lean forward, letting your fingers trace the protruding vein on the back of his hand. His eyes widen at the way your dress does very little to hide your cleavage, but he averts his gaze right away, being the gentleman that he is. But tonight, you want him to be the opposite of that. You don’t want him to be sweet; you want him to let his desire win. There’s a monster hiding inside him, something much more terrible than your own. You sometimes caught its glimpse when he thought you weren’t looking his way. The amount of obsession that fogged his eyes, his fixation over you, turning his sapphire blue eyes so dark, so deep, so intense, like he wanted to have you locked up in his room, tied up and used and thoroughly fucked until you found no strength to stand and no will to escape. It should’ve been a scary thought, but it wasn’t. It was… exciting.

“I want to hear it, Yuu…” Seduction lays thickly in your voice as you lay a gentle hand on his cheek, guiding his eyes back to you. You stare up at him from underneath your lashes with this look in your eyes that makes his breath hitch in his throat. “If you were my husband…” You wet your lip, your tongue a sinful dance to his eyes. “What would you do to make me feel…” You purposely drop your gaze to his lips, letting him catch your message. “…loved?”

You watch him gulp, goosebumps breaking on his skin. You watch his eyes fall to see the way you rub your thumb over the bumps on his knuckles. You watch them turn half-lidded as they linger a second too long on your lips. And you watch him break all control he has over himself, and you let him devour you the way you’ve been wanting him to.

He’s your sweet neighbor Yuuta.

And he tastes even sweeter with your cum on his tongue.

It’s happening too fast, yet it feels like it’s not going fast enough. He starts by holding you by the face, slotting his lips against yours, passionate and gentle at the same time. He pulls away for a moment to see your reaction, and when you kiss him back, he lets out this sinful moan that causes your stomach to churn.

He’s so fucking sexy. Even without trying, he is.

In the next second, he’s eating you out on the couch, spreading your legs, and kneeling on the floor with his head trapped between your thighs, wanting to get as much of you as you can give him. When his tongue circles your clit, and he’s moaning against your heat, it feels so good you almost run away, not used to experiencing this much pleasure. It’s scary how easily he plays with your body. How fast he can tell which part of yours likes to be licked, which ones want to be sucked, and which ones want to be fucked. He moves agonizingly slow, but each touch feels so right that you find no reason to complain. He’s sure to take his time with you, to make you feel loved in the way a wife should be when her husband makes love to her.

He takes hold of your thighs, holding you tight, but you want it even tighter to the point of leaving bruises all over your skin so you can show them to your husband later. His gaze is intense, constantly keeping his eyes on you. Your expression turns him on, making him ache so bad within the constraints of his pants that his eyes turn watery, desperate for release. He’s too ashamed to ask you to touch him, and maybe he doesn’t want to be touched, not yet, he just wants to focus on pleasuring you for now. So he keeps sucking your clit into his mouth, and he slides one hand into his own jeans to grip his cock tightly. He fucks his fist as fast as he fucks your hole with his tongue, groaning, whining, whimpering against your cunt. He’s pathetic. You love it.

You push him down to the carpeted floor after you drench his mouth and chin with your juice, and you push his fingers, coated with his own cum, into your mouth. He curses once at the sight, and it’s so sexy when he does it. After all this time hearing him talk so softly, so innocently, hearing a low, “Fuck, you're making me lose my mind,” tumbling off his lips is such a fucking turn-on.

You tear yourself away from your dress before you rip open the buttons of his shirt, not caring if the two of you are in the middle of his living room, visible for anyone to see if they dare take a peek through the window. You wish the light in the room were brighter. It would’ve been a lovely show for your husband if he came home to see you riding another man’s cock, using Yuuta to your own satisfaction, and watching him make you cum the way he couldn’t.

Yuuta, oblivious to your thoughts, is gasping out your name, one arm hiding his beet-red face while his other one is gripping your thigh. “W-wait,” he flinches, his breathing tattered. “You’re going—too fast—”

You know you are, but it’s so good that you can’t stop. His cock rubs your walls so deliciously as if it was made solely for this purpose. You cum so fast, so hard, and he follows almost right away, unable to hold it even longer when he sees you looking like that when you cummed.

Your body is still trembling when he suddenly lifts you off his cock and guides you to his face. “Ride me again,” he says, begging. “Please, Angel, I want to taste you again.” And you do, sitting on his face and letting him lick, suck, and lap at everything that seeps out of you.

He’s staring at your swollen clit, licking his lips and seemingly dazed as he rubs his thumb softly over it. “I’m sorry I came inside you,” he says, genuinely feeling guilty about it despite you giving him permission to.

You shiver, still feeling so sensitive for receiving so much stimulation at once. “It’s okay. I can’t get pregnant anyway,” you laugh it off. “I haven’t gotten myself checked yet, but we’ve been trying for two years, and nothing has happened yet, so…”

His gaze darkens. “I see,” is the only thing he utters before he scoops you in his arms, carrying you to the bedroom. You’re surprised; you really thought that was it. Both of you came twice already in, like, fifteen minutes. That’s enough, isn’t it? But he’s still young, and he has a lot of energy that leaves him insatiable. If you let him, he’ll have you for the entire night.

It’s not a bad thing, not at all.

So you kneel in front of him on the bed, bite the corner of your lip to drive him even more insane, and stroke him slowly with your hand. “You still want to fuck me?”

“Yes,” he breathes out, the muscles in his abdomens tautening. “Yes, Ma’am, please…”

Ma’am? You almost laugh. How does he keep getting cuter and cuter?

“Okay.” You reward him with a little kiss on the head of his cock, robbing a soft whimper out of his mouth. Lying down on the bed, you spread your legs, sliding two fingers down your body to do the same to your cunt. “Come here and love me again, Yuu.”

He obliges in a split second. Yuuta has so much love to give, and he lets his mouth, his tongue, and his cock paint a perfect picture on your body.

Everything feels like heaven until he suddenly stops in the middle of thrusting his hips, earning himself an impatient whine. His blue eyes have lost their warm, pretty light. They’re as dark as the night, but lust and greed are the perfect colors for him. He sits on his knees, resting your ankles on his shoulders, breathing heavily.

“Yuuta?”

He’s not listening, too captivated by the way his tip slides in and out so easily. You’re so fucking wet for him; it’s embarrassing, but Yuuta would take a picture of you like this in a heartbeat, with your wedding ring still wrapped around your finger and his cock sheathed deep inside you, should you allow him to.

He splays his hand over your stomach, giving a little pressure to your womb. You squirm, suddenly feeling like you no longer have control over anything, over him, not like the way you did before. It’s frightening and thrilling at the same time. “Yuuta, what are you—” Your jaw turns slack at the sensation when he thrusts inside, just once, just to see how far it goes within your walls. He’s so hard and thick and throbbing that you could practically feel him poking from inside of your stomach. And perhaps he’s thinking the same thing, his eyes glistening when he feels a bulge forming under his palm. He swallows. He looks… hungry.

“You said you couldn’t get pregnant,” he says, running a tongue across his lower lip, his eyes still fixated on the way you’re taking him so well, all stretched out and tight around him. “You know what I think?” He pulls himself out completely, shivers in his breath. “I think you’re wrong.” He slams his hips forward so abruptly, and with so much force, you have one hand shooting past your head to keep a safe distance away from the headboard.

“Yuuta—” You gasp out, struggling to match his rhythm. “Wait—”

He only smiles a little, chuckles a little. He’s so far gone. He leans forward until you’re pressed chest to chest, folding you in half before he laces his fingers together with yours. “I think you can get pregnant.” He moves closer to your ear, whispering with his lips caressing your lobe, “And I’m going to show you how.”

He fucks the breaths out of you, swallowing each cry with his mouth, embracing you so tightly you can feel his heart beating against yours. “I’m sorry,” he pants, “It hurts, doesn’t it? I—” He’s interrupted with a low groan, feeling you clenching around him.“—really am sorry—” He smashes his lips against yours, smothering you with his kisses, too. “I know I’m being too rough, but I can't—” He has one hand gripping the top of his headboard, giving him more support to drive his hips even deeper. “I can’t—stop—” He fucks you again, and again, harder each time until you find yourself unable to make sounds. “You’re so good... You feel so good around me... My angel…” You’re being folded, handled, trapped, and he fucks you until you’re drained, until you’re filled, until he’s spent. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry... Just a little bit more..." He kisses your forehead and your cheek to soothe you down, cradling your head as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. His hips start to move erratically. “Don’t ever leave me… I will love you forever, so—ah, God—” He chokes out a sob when he feels you spasming around him again, reeling in another wave of orgasm that hit you so intensely, you see white.

It takes him a little over an hour until he finally lets you go. For now, at least.

But once he gives you a chance to breathe, he cleans you up so gently, dabbing a warm towel over your skin, peppering kisses as soft as butterfly wings down your back, your thighs, your chest, before ending his journey at your stomach. He rubs the supple flesh of your belly and smiles, completely satisfied after giving you his everything. And it scares you a little bit because… You might really end up getting pregnant this time.

“I have to go before he comes home,” you say, feeling your body ache terribly when you try to raise yourself off the bed. They’re not shown vividly yet, but there will be bruises in the morning in places you’re not sure you can cover.

Yuuta hugs you from the side when you barely have one foot on the floor, whispering against the bare skin of your hip, “I’m not letting you go.”

It makes you happy. You feel so wanted, so loved, even after all the affection he gave you all night. The truth is, you don’t want to leave. Ever. To walk into your own home after experiencing what heaven feels like… It would be torturous.

“I wish I could stay with you, too.”

“You do?” He looks up with big, round eyes, hope residing in each one of them. “Would you stay with me forever?”

“If I could,” you reply and it’s true. God, if only you could stay forever with him, let him love you this way, forever. That would be perfect, wouldn't it?

“That makes me happy…” He takes both of your hands, kissing you on each wrist before he does the same to your palms. “That makes me so happy…”

It tickles, so you laugh a little. He makes the same sweet sound, the sound of a boy in love.

“I really need to go, though…” You whisper, hypnotized when he starts pushing your digit past his lips. It’s warm and wet inside his mouth, waking up the butterflies in your stomach. He keeps his eyes on you, looking so sensual as he sucks around your finger, enveloping it from base to tip. “Yuuta…”

“I understand.” He pulls away, ending it with a kiss. He seems disheartened, his smile doesn't shine as bright anymore and it hurts you. "I guess you left me with no choice."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay." He returns your embrace, just one more time before you have to let him go. “Can you turn around for me, please? I want to give you something,” he softly smiles. “A present. It will be quick, I promise.”

You do as he says, excited at the thought of it. What will he give you? Knowing him and how he went through so much effort to prepare a dinner for two friends, you just know it would be something incredibly romantic. Yuuta kisses your nape, open-mouthed and lingering. You nibble on your lip to suppress your moan as he trails his lips from between your shoulder blades down to your spine.

“Yuuta,” you sigh, squeezing your thighs together. You’re aching for him again, and it’s dangerous. Your husband can come anytime soon. “I know what you want, and really, I wish I could stay,” you say from the bottom of your heart, looking over your shoulder to see him, and you’re immediately answered by a kiss. He presses his chest to your spine, one hand cupping half of your neck and your jaw to keep you in place so he can deepen the kiss. His mouth moves with fervor, filling you up with desire, and if it weren’t for the sound of your husband’s car moving into your driveway, you would’ve let him take you there for another hour or two.

“I need to leave. Now.” You break away to gather your clothes quickly. Except you can’t.

You can’t move your hands.

Robbed out of your balance, you fall face-first to the floor. Your breath catches, your heart plummeting to your stomach when you realize you have your hands tied behind your back. You feel something rough grazing against your skin. There’s a rope ensnaring your wrists together, and it’s digging painfully into your flesh every time you struggle to break free.

Panic rises quickly to your chest. You look up, your body froze with terror at the sight of him smiling at you.

He’s not your sweet neighbor Yuuta. Not anymore.

This is the monster you caught a glimpse of before, in full form. His handsome features suddenly feel unrecognizable, not when you can no longer witness the warmth in his eyes.

What is happening? You breathe fast, frightened beyond your mind. Why is he doing this?

“I told you I’m not letting you go,” he says, walking slowly toward you. With every step he takes, your urge to escape grows bigger.

The second the dread sinks in, you part your lips to scream for help, but he clasps a hand over your mouth just in time. “Sshh shhh shhh,” he whispers, bringing you back to your feet. “We wouldn’t want your husband to find out, would we?”

You try to kick and toss your body around, but he’s strong, much stronger than you could ever imagine him to be. From your peripheral vision, you see him taking out a syringe from a drawer behind him, fitted with a hollow needle to inject the clear liquid into your skin. You feel your heart pounding in your throat, your scream muffled as he sinks it into your skin. “There, there. Off you go, honey,” he whispers in your ear, as you begin to lose your will to fight. Your consciousness slowly wanes away with each second passing by. “I’m so sorry, Sweetheart. It’s only scary at the beginning, I promise.” He tosses the syringe away, now empty. “Oh, I almost forgot to ask. Did you like the card I gave you?”

The card? What card?

Oh.

Oh, no.

“I’m sorry for tricking you like that,” he says with a little pout. “Truly, I am. I didn’t want to lie to you, but I had to do something to push you over the edge. I knew you liked me too from the start, but you wouldn’t make the first move. You kept staying faithful even when your husband was cheating on you like that. I admire you for that,” he sighs, utterly smitten by you, but only for a second before his tone drops. “But I was getting impatient, you see. And I knew you were, too. I watched your favorite movies. I read your favorite books. I learned everything about you and did everything you liked, but you still wouldn’t leave your husband for me. So you left me with no choice. I have to make you understand,” he slides his hand up your stomach, passing the valley between your breasts before he chooses to linger there, squeezing, teasing, pleasing. “That no one can touch you like I do. No one can love you like I do.”

You can feel him kissing your neck, licking a stripe up from your collarbone to the spot below your ear. “It was quite tricky copying his handwriting like that. There’s one letter I still can’t do very well even now. But it was enough to trick you, so I think everything’s fine in the end,” he chuckles, the sound filling your chest with horror, though you could barely register it now, not with the drug flowing in your system.

“You asked me what I would do to make you feel loved if I were your husband.” He carries you closer to the window, letting you see, with all the little power you have left, your husband closing the door of his car. Yuuta embraces you from behind, his hands tangled around your waist as he lets you rest your head on his shoulder. “I’m gonna show it to you.” You watch your husband make his way to your porch, oblivious to what’s happening in the dark room across the street. “I’m gonna love you, Angel. I will love you forever. With all my heart. And I’m gonna take my time. I’ll be so thorough with you that once I’m done, you won’t be able to spend a second of your life without me.”

Your husband closes his front door, and with it goes your last chance of escaping, if there was even one.

You start losing strength in your legs, in your arms, but you’re still able to cry, and so you do just that. It won’t help you, nothing will help you, no one will help you, and no one will know what he’s doing to you, not when everyone thinks so fondly of him.

“Oh, Sweetheart, don’t cry.” He kisses your tears away, landing an even softer one on your temple. “Don’t be afraid of me, my love. After all, it’s just me.” He meets your eyes in the reflection of his window, smiling with his hand holding the front of your neck.

“Your sweet neighbor Yuuta.”

***

#yuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #yuta x reader #jjk x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #jjk fics #i was this close 🤏 at naming this My Sweet Neighbor Yuuta but that's so cringe and predictable #and while that IS who i am #let me be mature for a second lsdkfad #couldn't come up with a title so there you go #wait what if i just shorten it to MSNY lol #terrible idea people would think i was writing about misogyny #untitled it is #kana.fics #wait i can use it in the tags tho #kana.MSNY #i swear i don't support it guys

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