#second: minnie everything

[miyeosin]

they’re here :3

[minnieposting]

rlly feeling like its so hard to be myself all of a sudden

[sooniebby]

ఌ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐄

w.c › 6k

warnings › face claims. Part 3. Bottom male reader. Brief use of the word “pussy”

plot › you start to date Mingi, learning how much he has wanted you for years while reevaluating your relationship with Yohan

kinks › feminization, friction play, size differences, Noona kink, calls reader “girl”, praise kink

Words to know › maknae (막내) — youngest. Hyung (형) — a term a younger male will call an older male. Jagiya/Jagi (자기야) — “sweetie/baby.” Noona (누나) — a term a younger male will call an older female.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Four years ago

“I heard you.”

Yohan glanced over at you, staring at your back. It was the day of the group’s first performance. The other members were to the other side of the dressing room, doing vocal exercises. You were fixing your tie. Everyone was dressed in school uniforms.

“Heard what?” Yohan asked, tilting his head. He never talked to you unless necessary. While every other member seemed to just fall at your feet—he wanted nothing to do with you.

It took a minute before you turned and looked at him. His eyes widen at the sight. You were on the verge of tears but somehow you were able to glare at him.

You walked over to him, “I heard you say that I must’ve slept with the CEO to get my position in the group.” Your voice was quiet. “I heard you say that Minnie probably hates me because I ‘replaced’ him.”

“Minnie?” Yohan whispered, raising an eyebrow.

“Let me tell you something, Park Yohan.” You leaned over, your breath brushing against his ear. “You don’t have to like me but I won’t take disrespect and I won’t let you tear this group down because you’re upset I’m a better leader than you.

“Besides, a real leader wouldn’t let his feelings get in the way of the group’s performance.” With that, you pulled away, not even sparing him another glance. You moved to where Gaeul was standing and motioned for her to help you fix your tie.

Yohan just stood there, staring at you in shock.

What the fuck?

He couldn’t even think about anything else—mainly on just what else could you have possibly heard.

But he didn’t get to think for long when it was Miracle’s time to perform. The group got on stage and Yohan felt weirdly uncomfortable. Almost all of the members looked at you for guidance—they didn’t even spare him a glance.

As each member got into position, Yohan glanced over at you. Your eyes were soft and resembled a doe. He took note that you didn’t even pay any attention to the people in the crowd but the members, giving each of them a wide smile.

You glanced at him and immediately your softness was gone. You simply nodded at him and fixed your head mic, making sure it was straight.

The metronome in the earpiece ticked before the song burst into the quiet scene. Everything was going well for the most part. While the crowd wasn’t too excited as it was the debut stage—a few people were getting interested.

Every members mic was on but you were certainly the highlight, managing to sing non stop, even singing your ad-libs.

As Yohan moved about stage, he heard the sound of fabric tearing. He didn’t even need to touch his legs to know his pants had ripped. Fucking cheap stakes! The pants were already tight on him, of course they ripped.

He continued dancing while subtly checking where the damage was done. His inner thigh… which was fine until he could tell it spread to the area of his crotch.

For fuck sakes. Yohan debated running off stage so he didn’t flash the audience as he got in a still position during your final chorus. As he mentally cursed himself while thinking of ways to subtly run back stage, you began tugging off your blazer.

You did it subtly enough that it looked as if it was apart of the performance. You didn’t even skip a second as you wrapped your blazer around Yohan’s waist, covering the growing split.

Yohan felt himself stiffen as you rest your head on his shoulder, finishing your line before Kihyun took over for the high note. This part of the song had all of the members frozen beside Kihyun.

Yohan tried to calm himself down as you stayed pressed against him, sacrificing your original position of standing beside him. He didn’t even know how you noticed his pants ripped. Everyone was so focused on completing the performance without a problem.

The rest of the song went fine, ending with each member’s picked out ending fairy. Yohan couldn’t even care too much, way too happy about not flashing anyone. He’d have to complain to the stylist today.

As the crowd clapped, the members released their pose and began to bow, thanking the audience. Yohan was about to say something when the sound of a whimper caught his attention.

He looked to his right to see you bawling…?

You took off your microphone as you covered your mouth to muffle your cries. Hyojin was almost immediately by your side, rubbing your back in comforting circles.

It didn’t take long for Doha to join, patting your head. Kihyun took a moment before coming over. Mingi looked nervous as he covered your body from the crowd’s face, almost like a way of giving you modesty.

Yohan just stared….

His group were comforting you as if they knew you for years now.

What the fuck?

After the group helped you walk off stage and everyone got changed into their regular clothing, Yohan was ready to just go home. He just hated that would still have to see you.

Everyone lived in a shared apartment, two boys in one room each. They had only moved in a few days ago and he was unlucky enough to room with you.

When they reached the apartments, Yohan was confused to see Kihyun taking some boxes away from his room. He walked in to see you on your side of the room, rubbing at your face. You glanced up when you heard him and frowned.

“Park Yohan-Ssi.” You said, he didn’t know how to feel with how respectful you were speaking to him—as if he was a coworker. “I’m switching rooms with Dodo—Doha. It… makes sense.”

“Makes sense?” Yohan asked, tilting his head. “What do you mean?”

You almost looked nervous before shaking your head. “A..anyway, I wanted to apologize… it was rude of me to say such things to you today right before a performance. I made you perform terribly.”

Yohan could only stare at you.

This…

How can someone be this….

He didn’t understand.

“I’ll go now…” you whispered, leaving the room quickly. Yohan didn’t even flinch.

Even if you had just apologized…

You weren’t wrong.

He was fucking up the group’s dynamic.

And it was all because he fucking hated you.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

After the 24 hrs performance, you had gained a wider audience than before. Gaeul had mentioned that there was a growth in female fans for you and she was certainly right. It was nice to see some fans that weren’t just thirsting over you but this somehow pushed you into more of the NSFW sphere of Miras.

You had went back to visit Hanniesmira only to see that she had started talking about you more. She had recently reposted another post of you.

The most repost was of a short clip of you at the amusement park. You were showing off the makeup the lady had done.

→ I wasn’t familiar with your game, bottom (Name) enthusiasts…

This account was of what looked to be a Kihyun biased Mira. You didn’t know to feel about there being ‘bottom enthusiasts’ but it was nice to see people appreciating your looks. Lots of comments even just innocently saying that you look great feminine.

You scrolled through some other posts when you came across a video from your debut. It was of the group at a variety show and you were standing together as the host was talking about something.

→ ??? I’ve never seen (Name) act like this before??

You didn’t understand what the Mira could’ve meant when you clicked on the video. It started off small as nothing out of the ordinary happened, just you fixing your position to stand straight. But then the clip replayed, with it zoomed in to your shoulder as you stood beside Yohan. The footage was slowed to show how when Yohan brushed up against you, you practically froze and immediately moved away.

@hanniesmira

↳ you didn’t know? Are you a new Mira?

@dohasflatass

↳ man, it was a whole thing! Yhn and (Name) didn’t interact with each other at all for the first six months

@hanniesmira

↳ six months? Naaaah, they didn’t get close until the group’s second year ㅋㅋㅋ

@hyoojinie

↳ dark times… now Yhn can’t leave (Name) alone ㅎㅎ I wonder why they hated each other so much

Before you could read anymore, Mingi came into your room. You shut off your phone and placed it down. You’d knew that it wasn’t exactly a secret for the fan base that you and Yohan weren’t chummy until the group’s second year.

You had honestly believed you’d never get close to him at all. But after your family emergency back then—Yohan practically changed.

Deep down, you constantly wondered if he would’ve still hated you if you didn’t go through that whole accident. You were deep in thought as you stood up and got into the motion to get ready for a shower.

Mingi being in the room didn’t even register until he suddenly spoke.

“Why can’t I tell anyone?”

You frowned, glancing over at Mingi who was now lying down on your bed. He was watching you get undressed. Even though you always tell him to look away—he doesn’t exactly listen to you anymore.

It had literally only been two days and Mingi acts as if he is your husband.

“It’s not smart. Hannie obviously can’t hear about it right now and it’s not fair to tell everyone but him.” You said, tugging off your boxers. “Just wait until after our album promotion… we’ll get a six month break so hopefully that’ll be a great time for Hannie to handle the news—if he really does like me.”

Mingi sighed. “You’re so naive, Hyung… you’d think you’re the youngest.”

You glared at him. “Just because I’m your boyfriend doesn’t mean you can speak so lax with me.”

“Why not?” Mingi smirked, his eyes glancing down at your bare lower half as you tugged off your shirt. “You’re lucky I haven’t showed you just how little honorifics mean to me. I’d like it if you’d call me Hyung in bed.”

“Mingi!” You whispered, eyes widen as you stared at him in shock. He was kinkier in ways you didn’t think was possible. But then again, you were a virgin… maybe this wasn’t that strange to be average adult.

“Can I take a shower with you?”

“Absolutely not.” You stormed off to the bathroom.

After showering, you came back to see Mingi was still on your bed. He turned his phone off immediately and gave you a grin. You only rolled your eyes, pulling out some pajamas.

You draped the towel on your shoulders as you pulled up your boxers. “Ah, I wanted to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I found a fan account of mines… Itsokokok. It’s so nice to see that I do have a fan account.” You said, glancing over at Mingi. He looked weirdly happy, a wide grin on his lips.

“Really? Of course you’d have a fan account.”

You smiled. “I guess. But, I think I know who runs the account.”

Mingi immediately sat up. “Wha—Ho—Who??”

You turned to fully face him, “Well I always knew the owner was a guy but it was weird how he talks about me. It’s like he knows me so well… but he hardly even responds to comments.” You smiled, walking over to Mingi.

He stared up at you, his eyes wide. You didn’t understand why he looked a bit nervous as you leaned down and kissed his nose.

“Who do you… think it is?” He asked.

“Kim Pilseung.”

Mingi blinked before raising an eyebrow, “who?”

“Kim Pilseung! The guy I signed the album for, I even gave him my number—”

“—excuse me?” Mingi stood up at that confession but you carried on, slipping on your shirt.

“But he hasn’t called me yet. Maybe he’s just shy.” You slipped on your shirt. “But it makes sense! He’s been around for a while—he’d know where to find pre debut videos of my past performances.”

“I’m still confused on why you gave a stranger your phone number.”

“I have two phones.” You said. “A work phone and a personal phone. I just gave him my work phone number.”

Mingi frowned. “What phone number do I have?”

“Work phone. Only my relatives have my personal phone number, I hardly use it because I don’t want a sasaeng to get the number.” You walked over to your night stand and opened the drawer, pulling out a phone that looked considerably older. “My personal! I’ve had it since I was in high school.”

You tossed it back inside, “it’s not like I use it often. It’s quite old, I need to buy a new one.”

Mingi only shook his head. “Anyway, I just want to know who the fuck Kim Pilseung even is. What the hell was he talking about when he mentioned a performance you did with someone else.”

“Don’t speak to me like that.” You said, sending him a swift glare. Mingi quickly straightened his posture as he apologized. “Good. Ah but Seungie was talking about the duo I was apart of. It was me and an old classmate of mines.”

“Seungie?” Mingi asked. “Wait, you were in a duo with a classmate?”

“Yea, cute right?” You giggled. “Mhm. My classmate and I performed together until he debuted in his company. We couldn’t perform together anymore after that. I almost gave up when that happened.”

You grabbed your (work) phone and pulled up your mother’s Instagram. It took a minute as you scrolled through the numerous photos she posted about you until you got to the first ever video she took.

It was another angle of the A.D.T.O.Y. Performance you did back in high school. This angle showed that you weren’t alone on stage but there was another boy beside you.

The caption was a bit crazy, but your mother was just an eccentric woman.

→ my baby performing!!! The voice of an angel, got it from me of course ㅋㅋㅋㅋ edit: Stop messaging me that song is inappropriate, he’s fully clothed!!! And yes, I know His friend is there too… I guess he sounds good too

“His name is Hong Garam.”

“He shares the same last name as you?”

You giggled, “yeah! That’s how we first started talking. Cute right?”

“We find different things cute.” Mingi rolled his eyes. “I’ve never heard of him, I guess he didn’t make it in the business.”

“You’re so childish. He has a stage name. He even—”

“Okay, okay, I care more about this Kim Pilseung. You think he’s the owner of your fan account, why do you care?”

“I want to thank him… is that weird?”

“No… I guess not, but honestly—you don’t need to.”

You frowned, “why not?”

Mingi sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to talk about another man right now, I was planning on having fun tonight.”

“Fun?”

“Never mind. I wanna sleep, lay down.” He didn’t even wait for you to respond as he pulled you to lay down on the bed. You didn’t even fight it, allowing him to manhandle you into his arms as he cuddled you.

“Minnie… I need to turn off the lights.”

“No.”

As he easily fell asleep, you couldn’t help but think back to the day everything changed between you and Yohan.

Two years ago

You were standing by the bridge, glancing up the moon. It was cool, the April weather finally starting warm up as May was approaching. You had to miss the group’s trip to the amusement park due to a family emergency and you were trying hard to not think about it.

It was silly. It was just an amusement park anyway…

Your gaze was on the water beneath the bride as you stood up on your tippy toes to get a better look.

It was almost calming when you were suddenly tackled to the ground. A loud scream left your throat as you immediately tried to fight against your assailant when you came face to face with… Yohan?

You stared up at him with wide eyes before a frown pulled on your lips. “Yohan-Ssi, what are—?”

“—are you crazy?!”

You blinked. “Crazy?”

Yohan glared down at you as he gripped your wrists. “Were you seriously about to jump? I know everything seems terrible right now but you can’t.. you can’t just leave the others… they’d be crushed.”

“But I wasn’t—”

“—even I’d… I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone.” His voice had gone soft, his grip loosening. “They can’t.. no, we can’t go on without you. I know I’m such a dick and nothing I say can change that but please… let me make it up to you, no matter how many years it takes. Don’t leave us, Hong (Name)… we can be your new family—especially after losing—”

“—Park Yohan, my family didn’t die.” You said, interrupting him.

“Huh?” Yohan opened his eyes, they were surprisingly wet with tears. “But the nurse said they died at the scene…?”

“The car accident wasn’t anything serious.” You shook your head. “I had to come for my mom so they can patch a cut she has on her forehead. Only the car got damaged.” You frowned. “The nurse must’ve gotten me mixed up with someone else.”

“So… your mom and brother didn’t die in a car crush?”

“No. I don’t even have a brother.” You stared at him up, tilting your head. “Besides… there’s a net attached to the bridge, it’d catch me if I really did want to jump.”

Yohan simply blinked. “So… so I…”

“You cared enough to run after me?” You whispered, a slight grin on your lips. “Y’know, this wouldn’t have happened if you visited when the other members came.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.” You laughed. “So, is that it? Will you start ignoring me now?”

Yohan got off of you, staring down at you. He glanced over the bridge—possibly checking to see if you weren’t lying before shaking his head.

“No. I guess I just needed a push to be honest. I meant every word.”

It was your turn to stare at him in shock. Your lips parted as you tried to speak but only a gasp left you.

It was from that moment, that Park Yohan had realized how bad he—no, the group—needed you.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Kim Pilseung still hadn’t called you—you were beginning to think maybe he didn’t want to. But then again, he was shy when speaking to you. Perhaps he was just nervous.

You were in the dance studio with the other members after a long day of practicing. Mingi and Yohan looked to be acting normal so you were semi happy. Though there would be instances of Mingi would purposely touch your waist in ways he’d never done before.

Luckily Yohan didn’t seem to be taking the bait, yet…

“You keep staring at your phone,” Kihyun suddenly said, wiping at the sweat on his neck. “Waiting for someone? Maybe that guy you visited all the time?”

Mingi immediately sat up from the floor, staring straight at you. “What guy? When was this?”

“When Hyung, Hyojin and I shared an apartment together,” Kihyun said, unknowing to the inner turmoil he was sending Mingi into. “Hyung would leave at 10:00 pm sharp and come back with this guy. The guy was always overly dressed—hat and face mask. He wouldn’t even speak, just dropped off a sleepy Hyung before leaving like the flash.”

Hyojin hummed. “I thought he was drugging Hyung but it seems Hyung just has a natural clock.”

You frowned, “that’s a bit embarrassing.” By natural clock, it simply meant your body automatically shut down by midnight. No matter how hard you tried—you would practically drop like a rock into slumber. You only managed to stay up to 12:30 am, once. Back in middle school no less.

“Who was he anyway? You stopped meeting with him right before we moved into double apartments?” Kihyun asked.

“Ah. Hong Garam.” Only Mingi seemed bothered by this while the other members only stared at you in confusion.

“Who the fuck is that?” Doha asked.

“Hyung’s old classmate,” Mingi answered, his face tense as his jaw tightened. Shit, you’d have explaining to do later.

“He’s also Hong Hwan.”

That seemed to cause Hyojin to sit up. “Hong Hwan?!”

Even Kihyun seemed shocked. “Hong Hwan?! I’ve met Hong Hwan and I didn’t even know!” He cursed to himself, shaking his head.

Mingi groaned, “who is that?!”

“Hong Hwan,” Doha answered. “A popular actor. Well he used to be an idol but he’s basically more of an actor nowadays. His group disbanded but he has solo songs.”

“Do you guys still talk?” Mingi asked. “You haven’t been leaving the dorm.”

You nodded. “He’s busy with promotions for his latest drama. I can let you guys meet him when he’s free.”

“I’d love that, Hyung!” Kihyun immediately said, a grin on his lips.

The other members chimed in agreement while Mingi only huffed, shaking his head. You sighed. After a few minutes of brief conversation, Gaeul walked into the studio with a grin on her face.

“Hey, Hey~! So tomorrow you guys will record content but it’ll be different from normal!” She said, giggling in excitement. “It’ll be a roleplay—like a family type thing. There’ll be two parents, three kids and the other is one of the character’s boyfriend.”

“Like a drama?” Doha asked.

“Yes yes. The whole plot is that the parents and younger brothers don’t approve of their eldest daughter’s boyfriend because he looks like a gang member.”

“Daughter? So one of us has to play a girl?” You asked.

“Technically two girls, as there’s a mom. Anyway, we allowed Miras to pick all of your roles! We did a poll on Twitter. So first, the boyfriend will be played by Mingi!”

Mingi perked up at that, “really?”

“Yeah, yeah. Ah, the younger brothers will be played by Yohan and Doha. You can pretend to be any age you want.” She scrolled on her phone as she hummed slightly. “And now for the daughter, Hyojin will be the daughter—is that okay, Hyojin-Ah?”

Hyojin hummed. “I’m fine with it.”

“Great. That leaves (Name) and Kihyun.”

You kinda mentally prepared to be the dad—it was obvious. Miras constantly called you Miracle’s dad! But you never thought they’d vote Kihyun as the mom—he wasn’t the type. Honestly you were shocked Doha wasn’t the boyfriend as his whole assigned persona was a bad boy.

Maybe Miras wanted a little change as well.

“Kihyun was voted as the dad and (Name) as the mom! The van will pick you guys up at noon tomorrow, be ready! I’ll see you guys later.” With that, she left.

You blinked. That was a surprise.

But a welcomed one at that.

The group all went home after that. You expected Mingi to immediately start questioning you about Hwan but he seemed to have forgotten all about it. He only sprawled out on the couch and began watching a random Thai drama. You gave him a quick kiss good night before leaving to your bedroom.

You pulled out your phone and began checking Twitter again, wanting to see the polls. It wasn’t anything too crazy—no one seemed mad at the results. In fact a lot of Miras were excited to see Mingi as a ‘bad boy.’

A few giddy to see Hyojin as a girl.

As you scrolled you came across an older video—it looked to be from the group’s second year. The groups first ever festival performance. You remembered it was for a college festival.

The video looked to be off the ending. Each member was walking to their ending position. The song playing was ‘Sweet Dreams’ so each member got down to the ground and laid their head on the other’s shoulder, pretending to fall asleep.

After the final verse, each member began to ‘wake up’ as they waved at the fans. But when it reached Kihyun, second to last, he didn’t get to get up because your head was still resting on his shoulder. He reached over to tap your shoulder only to find out you were fast asleep.

He immediately began laughing and comfortingly patted your head as the other members turned around to see what was wrong.

You vaguely remembered why you had fallen asleep—it was midnight by the time the performance was over. It was a miracle you even managed to finish the performance when you remembered being sleepy the entire time.

A dip in your bed caught your attention as Mingi appeared beside you. He looked tired as he laid down, patting the spot beside him. You only rolled your eyes but laid down, immediately cuddling up in his arms.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“I think I make a pretty girl.”

You glanced over to see Hyojin already fully dressed in his girl costume. Because his hair was already a bit long, the hair stylist only added extensions to make them reach his shoulders. His outfit wasn’t too feminine by all means. A pink t-shirt and shorts.

He had on light makeup—one a teen girl would normally wear. You gave him grin.

“Cute~ My daughter is cute.” You teased, giggling as Hyojin rolled his eyes. The others were already done for the most part, waiting out in the living room. Filming was taking place in a random house the company rented out.

You were almost finished—the hairstylist simply fixing your wig. Dressed in a more feminine outfit—you wore a fluffy white sweater with a black pants that disguised itself as a flowing skirt.

The wig the hairstylist was putting on you was black that reached your back. It looked cheap but with the curls the stylist put it made it have more volume. Your makeup was minimal and hardly noticeable.

Hyojin hummed, joining you by the makeup stand. “You look like you could be someone’s mom.” He said, laughing when you glared at him through the mirror.

The both of you join the others where a staff member is clipping their mics to their clothing. Yohan was dressed in a soccer uniform while Doha still had on a school uniform with fake glasses.

Kihyun was dressed exactly like a dad. Rectangular glasses sat on the bridge of his nose while his hair was swiped back with gel. He’s dressed in a polo shirt and black slacks.

But they didn’t matter too much to you—your members always looked good. No, who caught your eye was, of course, Choi Mingi.

His blonde hair was shaggy and purposefully messy, a bit of dark eyeliner that sharpened his fox like eyes. He wore a black leather jacket over a white t-shirt and black ripped jeans. He was fixing his clip on mic when he gazed over at you.

You watched as his eyes slowly widen with recognition as he took you in. You felt your cheeks burn as you wanted to look away but kept staring back at him. Did he think you looked good? Hopefully you looked good.

Filming started shortly after Gaeul reminded every one of the plot—you were all free to improvise basically everything. You sat down on the couch near Kihyun, leaning against his shoulder. His arm slid underneath your back as his hand let itself rest at the slight curve of your waist.

Even if you didn’t view Kihyun romantically, you couldn’t help but blush a little.

The little roleplay went fine for the most part, you acted like the ‘mediating mother’ who didn’t necessarily hate the boyfriend while the father and brothers hated him.

It was fun for the most part. Though throughout the roleplay, you could notice a strange tension rising between Yohan and Mingi. You began to watch them nervously as they faked argued. It was started to feel a bit too real with the words they were using.

“And how can you even be good for her—?” Yohan started.

“—Hey, Hey, you act like I’m ten!” Hyojin interrupted.

“Yeah, you’re so controlling,” Mingi chuckled. “What makes you the one who gets to choose for her?”

“Because—!”

“—this so annoying, she’s not worth this hassle. what if I take your mom instead will you still be this angry? She’s hotter anyway.”

Everyone blinked as they stared at Mingi. It took a second before Kihyun realized he should act as he immediately stood up and began spouting some nonsense while you could only stare. You felt hot as you couldn’t even come up with a line but only bury your face in your sweater.

You’d kill him later.

Shooting ended not even twenty minutes later. None of the staff seemed to be mentioning the whole ‘she’s hotter’ sentence. You wondered if they would just edit that out as you handed over the mic to a staff member. Each member looked ready to go home and eat—you included.

You need to take your wig off however so you began walking to the hairstylist when a hand grabbed your sweater and tugged you away. You didn’t even get a chance to scream before you were slammed into a storage closet.

It didn’t take a genius to know who had dragged you here.

“Mingi—can you be a bit gentler next time?” You whispered, sighing softly.

“Sorry, sorry.” Mingi gave you a cheeky grin before slowly guiding you rest your back against the wall. “But you look too good right now… I want to kiss you.”

You blushed slightly. “You look good too.” You shyly whispered, glancing up at him. Your hands slowly reached up and rest on his shoulders, gripping at his jacket before pulling him further down. Mingi didn’t need to be told twice as he eagerly kissed you, his hands grasping your waist.

The kiss was intense, Mingi kissing you like he wanted to eat you. His fingers dug into the waistband of your pants before managing to tug them down. They pooled around your feet as your eyes widen in shock. You pulled away from the kiss and stared up at him in shock.

“In.. in here?!” You whisper-yelled.

Mingi hummed, undeterred as he began pressing light kisses on your neck. “Just this once. I won’t ask for something like this again. Please, Noona?”

Your body shivered at the title, a strangled gasp leaving your throat as he teased the tip of your cock. Wait when did he pull down your underwear? Any part of you that didn’t want to do this was pushed down at the immediate pleasure of him teasing your cock.

No way you can wait until you get home now.

“Okay… just this once.” You whispered.

Mingi immediately began unbuckling his jeans with speed you thought was impossible. He still kissed and nipped at your neck—still careful to not leave any marks. You bit your bottom lip to muffle any moans as he gripped your thighs, lifting you up.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, nervous for how this would work. Wasn’t he supposed to prep you? But he was quite big, how long was he supposed to prep you for?

As you tried to calm yourself down, you felt his cock rub against yours. He had pulled up your sweater to show off your stomach. You shuddered and glanced down to see him line his cock right on top of yours.

“What’s this..?” You whispered, gasping as he began to slowly rub against you. “I thought you… were gonna put it in.”

“In here?” He asked, an incredulous expression on his face. “No way, not for your first time. We can get off like this. Just let me lead, Noona.” You blushed again as you meekly nodded.

His hands slid up to your waist as he pressed his body fully against yours. Your cock was now firmly against his—unable to slip away. Mingi pressed a soft kiss on your collarbone before pulling away just a bit to see your face.

“I’ll make it quick… so they don’t get suspicious.” He said, though you could tell that he would’ve dragged this out if there wasn’t the threat of getting caught. “Don’t make a sound, I don’t want anyone hearing you.”

It was slow at first. His hips bucked forward as your toes curled, his thicker cock dwarfed yours as they rubbed together. It burned a bit as there was no lube to make the friction smoother. Mingi seemed to notice this as he spit into his hand and rubbed it against both cocks. You tried not to be grossed out.

Sex was messy anyway.

He started out slow before speeding up. You almost wished he actually fucked you. This must’ve been how he usually fucks anyway. The tight grip on your waist as he slammed forward, your body shaking from the force.

The pre-cum leaking from your cock began to coat both cocks, allowing for an easier friction. Your voice was beginning to get louder as you buried your face into his neck, clawing at the jacket for some type of purchase.

“I bet you’re tight… so tight, Noona. Next time, I wanna fuck your pussy, can I? Can I, Noona?” He whispered, into your ear, chuckling when you only answered with a high pitched moan. “Do you like that? Calling your hole a pussy?”

His hips suddenly stilled as you cried in disappointment. “C’mon, Noona. I’m doing all the work… you can answer my question. Do you like it?”

You whined before nodding your head.

“Ah, ah, use your words. You’re an adult.”

“So mean…”

“What was that, Noona? You want me to stop?”

“No, no! I…” you whined, your cock aching for release. “I like it.. please I wanna cum.”

“See~” he cooed, “that wasn’t too hard. You’re such a good girl, Noona.”

His nails dig into your skin as he slammed his hips up, your cocks rubbing together once more. Your moans immediately leave you as you feel yourself reach your peak. You cum not soon after, Mingi’s name leaving your lips in a pathetic whimper.

Mingi follows right after, biting down on your bare shoulder. Luckily the cum didn’t reach the sweater. It coated both of your stomachs as he loosened his grip on you. You both breathed heavily as he glanced over at you.

“You really are hotter.” He said, a slight smirk on his lips.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

After that whole storage closet incident, you and Mingi have finally felt a bit more comfortable sex wise. In short, you guys were humping each other practically every night. Which led tonight: you were sitting on his lap, wearing only your boxers with a t-shirt.

You had been watching him gaming when he suddenly asked for a reward for beating his high score. You refused at first since you had wanted to go to bed an hour ago but he had begged you to watch him play.

It only took one puppy dog pout before you conceded and allowed him to choose a reward.

Of course the reward was you grinding on top of him. Your ass was directly over his dick. You could tell he wasn’t wearing any boxers underneath his sweatpants. It began to harden beneath your ass as you slowly grind on top of him.

“You’re so sexy, Hyung. I’m not sure if I can take this anymore,” Mingi groaned, reaching over to grasp your waist. You shivered.

“You.. don’t have to… I’m ready.”

Mingi blinked. “Really..? I can..?”

Your hips stopped as you blushed slightly, nodding your head. “Yeah… humping each other is fun but I wanna feel you.. i..inside me.” You thought you’d die of embarrassment.

But that almost seemed to send Mingi over the edge as he immediately flipped your positions to where you were laying on the couch. You stared up at him shock as he pulled down your boxers, your cock flopping free.

You couldn’t help but feel excited at how eager he was. You shyly opened your legs wider so Mingi could have easy access. Just as he was about to kiss your stomach, your phone began ringing.

You immediately shot up, ignoring Mingi’s whines as you reached for your phone. People hardly called you so you always immediately checked. It took a second for the name to fully register but when it did, a grin pulled on your lips.

홍가람

Hong Garam.

Three years ago

Mingi was a bit camera shy when it came to variety shows. He hardly looked into the camera as he just let the other members talk until he was called upon. Because of that, his gaze was focused on the members—mainly you, really.

So he noticed how you practically froze up when Yohan accidentally brushed against you. He’d never seen you react like that before. If he wasn’t on camera he would’ve said something but he decided to do something less disruptive.

Because everyone was standing in a huddle than a line, it was easy for him to slip between Kihyun and Doha to get to you. He stopped though—wanting to make it seem like he was just shifting around. After a minute or so, he moved again, gently pushing you further to the right so he could fit between you and Yohan.

Yohan didn’t seem to notice at all while you glanced over at Mingi, a confused look on your face. But Mingi didn’t look at you, knowing that if he did he would’ve fold immediately. He just stared at the host—pretending he was paying attention the entire time.

If he did glance over at you, he would’ve noticed the slight blush on your cheeks as you smiled to yourself.

The whole idea for a family drama thing was definitely from SKZ lmao. Leading heavily into feminization but Mingi has multiple kinks, just wait and see

Tag list: @tehyunnie @euthymiko @iwishtobeacrow @onementally-unstabel-kid @jaxyy219 @hoshimochicchi @honey-valentin3 @bensontrechic @ofclyde @star-3214 @love-kha1 @chill-guy-but-cooler @tomoeroi @the-ultimate-librarian @mooncarvers-world @mello-life25 @yuzuukix @smellwell @remdayz @cherry-blossoms-187 @kiiyoooo @secretivemessenger @me-when-life @bangbangdevotee @bangchansdirty-slut @chaevvonders @jjsmeowthie @diamondnightsky23 @1-800-darktea @anchoredphoenix

[faebled-stories]

The Weight of Approval

Kinkvember Day 19: Facesitting

(G)-IDLE Cho Miyeon x Gender Neutral reader

11.7k words

It’s just another shift at the café—a grind that blurs together with yesterday and all the days before. The worn counters, the hum of the coffee machine, the clink of mismatched mugs—it’s all routine. The same cracked tiles beneath your feet, the same smudged menu board hanging above the register. The café isn’t much, tucked into the corner of a busy street, frequented more for convenience than ambiance. It’s the kind of place that serves as a pit stop for hurried commuters, not somewhere anyone lingers.

You barely register the motions anymore. Each cup you fill, every polite smile you force, feels like another tick of the clock until your shift ends. But even then, that only means returning to your tiny apartment—three floors up in a creaky, aging building where the walls are thin, and the heater groans louder than it works. Inside, there’s a stack of unopened bills on the kitchen counter, a fridge that hums louder than it cools, and shelves lined with little more than ramen packets and canned soup. Payday is still a week away, and you’ve already done the math—it won’t stretch far enough.

Every month is the same. Rent looms like a guillotine, always just one mistake away from coming down. The café job was supposed to be temporary, just something to cover the basics until you landed something better. But “temporary” stretched into months, and now it feels like a trap, closing in around you as the bills keep piling higher. Nights at your other job—a late shift at a dingy convenience store—blur into exhaustion. Between the two jobs, sleep is a luxury, and dreams? Those have been shelved for “later,” though you’re no longer sure when “later” will come.

The bell above the door rings, jolting you from your thoughts. It’s automatic to glance up, expecting a regular with their usual small talk and routine order. Instead, she walks in.

The woman is striking, her presence undeniable from the moment she steps inside. Everything about her is sharp and precise, from the tailored fit of her sleek black suit to the effortless grace in her stride. The glint of her designer heels catches the dull light of the café, momentarily outshining the worn surroundings. Her dark sunglasses obscure her eyes, but you feel the weight of her gaze, like she’s sizing up the entire room in a single sweep. She’s out of place here, like a panther wandering into a pet shop.

She doesn’t wait in line. Instead, she glides directly to the counter, her movements fluid and purposeful, ignoring the subtle whispers and curious glances from the few other patrons.

“I’ll take my usual,” she says, her voice low and polished, each word perfectly enunciated.

You blink, caught off guard. There’s an air of expectation in her tone, as though her usual should be obvious. For a second, you feel like you’ve failed an unspoken test, unable to recall what she’s asking for. “I—uh—I’m not sure what your usual is…”

Her sunglasses slide down just enough for you to see her eyes. They’re sharp and assessing, a piercing gaze that seems to cut straight through you. “Is there a problem?” The question is more of a challenge than a clarification, her tone daring you to falter.

Before you can stammer out an apology, your coworker Minnie steps in, her movements quick and anxious. “I’ll take care of it,” she says, her voice soft and hurried. She doesn’t look at you as she nudges you aside, her trembling hands already reaching for the espresso machine.

The woman steps back, folding her arms as she waits. Her gaze, however, doesn’t leave you. It’s piercing and unrelenting, a quiet power that feels suffocating. She doesn’t speak, doesn’t need to—her presence alone commands the room.

Minnie works quickly, though her nervousness is evident. She fumbles slightly with the milk, spilling a few drops as she pours. When the drink is finally ready, she hesitates, glancing at the woman as if trying to gauge her mood. After a tense moment, Minnie takes a deep breath, picks up the cup, and walks it over.

You watch as she offers the drink, her posture stiff, like she’s bracing for something. The woman leans in slightly, inspecting the cup with the precision of a jeweler examining a diamond. She murmurs something, soft and deliberate, but her eyes remain locked on you.

Minnie freezes for a beat, her shoulders tightening before she nods and turns back toward you, her steps quick and unsteady. Her face is pale, her usual cheerful expression replaced with unease.

“She…” Minnie begins, her voice barely above a whisper as she sets the cup down on the counter in front of you. Her hands fidget with her apron. “She wants you to bring it to her.”

You glance at Minnie, confused. “Me? Why?”

Minnie shakes her head, her eyes wide. “I don’t know,” she whispers. “But you should just do it. Don’t… don’t upset her.”

The anxiety in Minnie’s voice sends a chill down your spine, but there’s no time to question it. The woman hasn’t moved. Her gaze is fixed on you, calm and unwavering, yet it carries a weight that feels oppressive, like a predator sizing up its prey.

You pick up the cup, its warmth doing little to steady your trembling hands, and step toward her. Each movement feels deliberate, exaggerated by the tension in the air. Her eyes track your every step, sharp and unrelenting, leaving you feeling utterly exposed. The café’s noise—the hum of the coffee machine, the soft chatter of patrons—fades into a dull background buzz as all your focus narrows on her.

When you’re close enough, you extend the cup toward her, your pulse hammering in your ears. Her fingers brush yours as she takes it, her touch cool and fleeting, yet it sends a shiver racing through you. Her lips curl into a faint smile—small, deliberate, and unsettling, like she’s amused by some private joke you’re not in on.

“Well aren’t you adorable,” she murmurs, her voice low and smooth, with just enough of an edge to leave you unsure if it’s a compliment or a taunt. Her gaze lingers on you, unhurried, peeling back invisible layers like she’s already learned more about you than you’d ever willingly share.

You open your mouth to respond, but the words catch in your throat as she tilts her head slightly, her expression shifting into something closer to curiosity—or is it calculation?

“How would you like to earn some extra money?” she asks, her tone casual yet deliberate, as if the question is part of a test.

The words land like a thunderclap, unexpected and disarming. You blink, caught off guard, the full weight of her presence pressing down on you as the question hangs in the air. The answer should be obvious—of course you do. You think of the bills piling up on your kitchen counter, the hollow ache in your stomach from skipping meals, and the rent looming over you like a storm cloud. But there’s something about the way she asks, something that makes your pulse race with more than just hope.

“I—uh…” Your voice wavers, and you hesitate, but the intensity of her gaze pushes you to nod, slowly at first, then more firmly. “Sure.”

Her smile deepens, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Instead, there’s a flicker of satisfaction, like she’s just confirmed something she already knew. She reaches into her purse with a deliberate, practiced motion and pulls out a business card. The action feels almost ceremonial as she hands it to you with a lazy grace. The card is pristine and minimalist: Ascend International. Cho Miyeon, CEO.

“Come to this address at 8 pm tonight,” she says, her tone smooth and unyielding. “Don’t be late.”

You glance down at the card in your hand, its edges crisp and cool against your fingertips. The weight of it feels disproportionate to its size, like it’s a key to a door you’re not sure you’re ready to open.

Her gaze flickers down to your mouth, and for a moment, she pauses, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as if an idea has just occurred to her. “Stick your tongue out,” she says suddenly.

The request catches you so off guard that you hesitate, unsure if you’ve heard her correctly. But her expression remains unchanged—no humor, no patience, only expectation. The air between you feels heavy, charged, as if she’s testing you.

Against every instinct, you comply, your face heating as you stick out your tongue. You feel ridiculous, exposed, yet there’s a compulsion in her gaze that makes resistance impossible. She studies you for a beat, her smirk deepening in satisfaction before she straightens, her presence as composed and commanding as ever.

“Good,” she murmurs, almost to herself, before turning and striding out of the café, her movements fluid and unhurried, like someone who always gets exactly what they want.

As the door swings shut behind her, Minnie sidles up beside you, her voice low and shaky. “You… you have no idea who she is, do you?”

You shake your head, your fingers clutching the card tightly. “No. Should I?”

Minnie’s eyes widen, her usual cheerful demeanor replaced by something cautious, almost fearful. “Cho Miyeon,” she whispers, glancing toward the door as if expecting her to walk back in. “She owns half this city. If she wants something from you…” She trails off, shaking her head. “Just don’t screw it up. People don’t usually get second chances with her.”

You look down at the card again, its elegant design somehow intimidating. It feels out of place in your hands, like it belongs in a world far removed from your own. Yet, as the weight of her gaze lingers in your mind, you think about your reality—your landlord’s last warning, the meals you’ve skipped, the endless grind of multiple jobs that never seem to be enough.

Maybe this is the kind of risk you need to take.

If you can survive it

-----

Stepping into Ascend International’s headquarters feels like stepping into another world. The building itself is a towering monolith of glass and steel, its sleek facade reflecting the city skyline with an almost arrogant perfection. The sheer scale of it is intimidating, a symbol of power that dominates the horizon, making everything around it feel insignificant by comparison.

The lobby is no less imposing. It’s cavernous, every surface polished to a mirror-like gleam. The pristine marble floors stretch out endlessly, their subtle veining shimmering under the soft, calculated lighting. Minimalist artwork, abstract yet commanding, adorns the high walls, while brushed metal accents catch the light in subtle, expensive flashes. It’s a space that whispers sophistication but demands reverence, as if even the air inside has been curated for those who belong.

The people moving through the lobby only add to the sense that you’re out of place. They stride with purpose, their designer suits immaculate, their gazes fixed straight ahead as if they’re always on the brink of something important. No one lingers. No one hesitates. Everyone here seems to belong, moving in seamless synchronization, like pieces in a machine that runs on ambition and authority.

Clutching the business card Miyeon gave you, you force yourself to breathe steadily as you approach the reception desk. It looms ahead of you, an enormous slab of black marble so flawless it seems to absorb the light around it. Its size and stark design make you feel even smaller, dwarfed not just by the desk but by the sheer magnitude of the world you’ve just stepped into.

Behind the desk sits a young woman, impeccably dressed and exuding the kind of confidence that only comes from being part of something this powerful. Her name tag reads Song Yuqi, but it’s her sharp eyes that capture your attention. They snap up the moment you approach, and in a single, sweeping glance, she seems to assess everything about you—your clothes, your posture, the nervous energy you can’t quite suppress. It’s a look that feels both brisk and invasive, as if she’s already reached a conclusion before you’ve even spoken.

“Hi, I’m here for an interview with Ms. Cho,” you manage to say, though your voice sounds smaller than you’d like. You straighten your posture, hoping it’ll help mask the nervous tension tightening in your chest.

Yuqi’s lips twitch into a faint smirk, a flicker of amusement crossing her otherwise polished demeanor. “Oh, I know what this is about,” she says, her tone light and almost playful. Her gaze drifts over you again, slower this time, adding an unsettling layer of scrutiny. It’s as if she’s sizing you up for something you’re not privy to, enjoying a private joke at your expense.

Without another word, she opens a drawer with precise, practiced movements and pulls out a slim stack of papers. She hands them to you with a flick of her wrist, her smile deepening as though she’s waiting for your reaction. “Here,” she says, the amusement in her voice unmistakable. “You’ll need to sign this.”

You glance down at the papers, your breath catching as your eyes skim the first few lines. The text reads: Employment Contract. The words jump out at you—personal assistant, non-disclosure agreement, exclusive services—but most of the document is dense with legal jargon that blurs together as your eyes dart across the page. Then, a number leaps out at you—the salary.

It’s staggering. More money than you’ve ever made in your life. More than you’d even dared to dream of earning, even after years of grinding through multiple shifts and sleepless nights. For a moment, the weight of it all hits you at once: no more overdue bills, no more rationing groceries or waking up in a cold sweat over rent. This could change everything.

You glance back at Yuqi, who’s watching you with that same faint smirk, her amusement sharpening as if she can read every thought racing through your mind. There’s something unnerving about how much she seems to know—like she’s been expecting you to react this way all along.

Your hand hesitates over the contract. Rationally, you know this is unusual. Signing a contract before even meeting with Miyeon feels strange, almost reckless. But the rational part of you is quickly drowned out by the sheer allure of the number staring back at you. Slowly, almost dreamlike, you pick up the pen and sign your name. It feels surreal, like you’re crossing an invisible threshold into a world you’re not sure you belong in.

When you look up, Yuqi’s smirk has widened, her amusement shifting into something sharper, almost predatory. She takes the papers from you with a practiced efficiency, her fingers grazing yours briefly before she sets them aside. “Top floor,” she says, her voice smooth and a little too cheerful. “Room 2601. Don’t keep her waiting.”

You nod, your throat too tight to respond, and turn toward the elevator bank. As you walk away, Yuqi’s voice trails after you, light and teasing but with a faint edge of something you can’t quite place. “Good luck,” she calls, her tone carrying a hint of pity that sends a shiver down your spine.

As you press the elevator button, the weight of what just happened settles over you. The sleek lobby, the polished marble, the silent power radiating from every corner of this place—it all feels like it’s pressing down on you, reminding you of how small and out of place you are. Yet, in your hand, the signed contract feels heavier than it should, a reminder of the door you’ve just opened.

After stepping into the elevator, the doors glide shut with a smooth finality, sealing you off from the world below. Yuqi’s soft chuckle lingers in your mind, faint yet cutting, like the echo of something you can’t quite grasp. Was she mocking you? Warning you? The question gnaws at you, but there’s no time to dwell on it.

The elevator begins its ascent, smoothly but at an unnerving speed, and each floor that flashes by on the display only amplifies your anxiety. By the time you reach the top floor, your heart is pounding, each beat echoing in your ears.

The doors open with a soft chime, and you step out into a long, dimly lit hallway. It’s strikingly different from the bright, bustling lobby below—quiet, almost unnaturally so, with thick carpeting that muffles your footsteps. Floor-to-ceiling windows line one side of the hall, offering a sweeping view of Seoul’s glittering cityscape far below, the lights sprawling endlessly in the night. The silence is profound, almost oppressive, heightening the tension coiling within you.

At the end of the hallway, a single door waits: Room 2601. The numbers gleam in brushed silver, unassuming yet undeniably foreboding.

You approach the door slowly, each step making your breath come shorter, the weight of anticipation settling heavily on your shoulders. Reaching the door, you raise a hand, hesitate for just a moment, then knock. The sound is barely more than a whisper against the thick, quiet air. Then you wait, each second stretching out into tense silence, your mind racing as you imagine the woman behind the door—the woman who is already reshaping the course of your life with a single, strange offer.

Finally, the door opens. Miyeon stands there, poised and composed, her gaze sharp enough to cut through the tension you’ve built up in your mind. Her presence fills the room instantly, commanding and undeniable. The tailored lines of her outfit emphasize her power, every detail of her appearance deliberate, perfected. She doesn’t say anything at first; her cool, assessing eyes are enough to strip you of any lingering confidence.

“Did you sign the contract?” she cuts the silence, her tone calm but unyielding, the question landing with an air of finality. Her gaze doesn’t waver as she waits for your response, clearly expecting nothing less than the truth.

“Yes, Ms. Cho,” you reply automatically, trying to keep your voice steady despite the nervous tightness in your chest.

A faint, almost predatory smile touches her lips, curving with just enough subtlety to unsettle you. “Good.” She takes a step closer, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. The weight of her gaze feels unbearable, as though she’s deciding whether you’re even worth the moment she’s spending on you. “Let’s begin your orientation,” she says smoothly, though there’s something in her tone that makes it feel less like an introduction and more like a trial.

You nod, swallowing hard, trying to push down the uncertainty tightening in your stomach. She watches you for a moment longer, as though savoring your discomfort, then parts her lips, her words delivered with meticulous precision.

“I need to know if you’re capable of handling my needs—whatever they may be,” she says, each syllable deliberately enunciated. Her eyes stay locked on yours as she takes another step forward, her voice low and unyielding. “This position demands complete obedience and total surrender. Is that clear?”

Her words hang in the air, their weight almost suffocating. You hesitate, the gravity of her demand pressing against you. “You…want me to surrender?” The words tumble out before you can stop them, exposing the crack in your resolve.

A flicker of disappointment crosses her face, quick and sharp, like a blade slicing through your hesitation. “Yes.” Her tone is calm, yet there’s an edge to it that leaves no room for misunderstanding. “If you want to work for me, I expect unquestioning compliance.”

She lets the silence stretch, forcing you to absorb the weight of her words, her gaze unrelenting. Then, her expression hardens slightly, and her voice lowers, smooth and controlled. “Do you understand?”

You nod quickly, a flush of heat rising to your cheeks. “Yes, Ms. Cho.”

She pauses, her eyes narrowing further, as if testing your sincerity. Then, with a measured look, she speaks again. “Good. Fetch the bench from the corner.”

The command catches you off guard, but her tone leaves no room for hesitation. You glance around quickly, spotting the object she means. The bench’s design immediately captures your attention—sleek and purposeful, with polished steel legs and padded leather cushions. Its unique height and tilted headrest stand out, clearly crafted with precision, though its exact purpose escapes you. There’s an air of deliberate intent in its construction, as if it was made for something specific, yet unknown to you.

Miyeon’s gaze remains fixed on you as you approach the bench. The weight of her stare makes you hyper-aware of your movements as you grip the sides of the bench and carefully drag it to the center of the room. The polished floor amplifies the sound of the legs sliding into place, each scrape making your pulse quicken. The act feels symbolic, a deliberate display of your compliance, and the tension between you thickens with every passing moment.

When you’ve positioned it where she wants, you glance back at her uncertainty. Her expression remains unreadable, but the faint quirk of her lips suggests satisfaction. She steps closer, her heels clicking softly, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

“Lie down,” she commands, her voice calm yet leaving no room for doubt.

The words catch you again, and you hesitate for a brief moment, your body instinctively stiffening. “Ms. Cho, I—what exactly do you mean by…?”

Her gaze sharpens instantly, silencing you with a single look. Her voice, deceptively soft, cuts through the air like a blade. “Are you questioning me again?” she asks, her tone laced with challenge. “I thought you understood what surrender means. Lie down. Now.”

Her words land with finality, and you feel a flush of shame rise at your hesitation. Swallowing hard, you nod and lower yourself onto the bench, the cool leather pressing against your back as you settle in. The elevated headrest cradles your head, tilting your face upward as though the bench itself is positioning you for her. The chill of the leather seeps into your skin, grounding you in the moment, while the faint scent of her perfume lingers in the air, mingling with the tension that fills the room.

Miyeon steps closer, standing above you, her presence towering, her gaze unbroken. Slowly, deliberately, she reaches down and hikes her skirt up to her hips, revealing toned thighs and the delicate edge of lace. Her movements are smooth, calculated, as if every motion is part of a performance meant to remind you of your place. She slips her panties to the side with practiced ease, her poise never faltering, and positions herself above you.

Her movements are deliberate as she lowers herself onto the bench, aligning her body perfectly with yours. The height of the bench leaves her perfectly positioned—not too low, ensuring her weight presses against you with satisfying firmness, yet not so high that she feels unsupported. The angle of your head allows her to settle fully, her thighs bracketing your face as her warmth and presence close in around you. The air feels thick with her scent—rich, musky, and faintly floral—flooding your senses and leaving your head spinning before she’s even settled fully.

Leaning forward, she braces herself on the bottom of the headrest, her hands naturally finding the spots perfectly molded for her grip. The design seems intentional, as if tailored for this very moment. Her fingers tighten briefly as she steadies herself, her gaze flicking down to meet yours. There’s no softness in her expression, only a sharp, expectant coolness that cuts through the haze clouding your mind.

“Stay still,” she murmurs, her voice calm but carrying the weight of command. The words feel like a seal on the moment, binding you to her expectations. Then, with deliberate ease, she presses down, enveloping you completely.

Your world narrows to her—the pressure, the weight, the intoxicating heat of her body as it moves against you. Tentatively, you extend your tongue, pressing it to her for the first time. Her taste floods your senses, earthy and rich, tinged with the saltiness of her skin. It’s overwhelming, disorienting, but also grounding, her presence completely consuming every thought, every breath. Encouraged by the faint shift of her hips, you try again, moving with more intention. You let your tongue trace slow, deliberate strokes, convinced you’re finding the rhythm she expects.

Her thighs press firmly against your head, creating a perfect seal that traps you beneath her. The leather of the bench beneath you feels immovable, your position leaving you utterly at her mercy. With her weight pressing down, each inhale becomes a struggle, your breaths reduced to shallow pulls of air through your nose—and every one of them is filled with her. Her scent is heady, musky, and floral, a potent blend that seeps into your senses and clouds your thoughts. It feels like you’re breathing her in completely, your lungs filled with nothing but her presence.

Her body feels warm, responsive, as though she’s relaxing against you, her hips beginning to move in slow, deliberate rolls. The grind of her pelvis against your face is measured, controlled, and demanding, and you adjust your movements instinctively, matching her pace. Her thighs tighten subtly around your head, holding you even more firmly in place, leaving no room for error, no room for escape. You feel every shift, every slight increase in pressure, and interpret it as a signal that you’re doing something right.

The faint tension in her breathing seems to deepen, her exhalations growing slightly louder, and you take it as a sign to focus more, to give her exactly what she needs. You adjust your tongue, letting it trace patterns you think she’ll enjoy, responding to the subtle cues in the way her hips shift. Her warmth spreads against you, slick and inviting, and you press more firmly, convinced you’re making progress, that she’s responding to your efforts.

Her scent grows stronger, mingling with the heat radiating from her skin, and you lose yourself in the rhythm she’s setting. Each movement feels purposeful, deliberate, as if you’re aligning perfectly with her desires. Her faint exhalations become the only sound you can hear, soft and measured, a quiet reward that urges you to keep going, to match her pace with precision. Her thighs flex against your head, squeezing slightly, and her hips grind down harder, forcing you to adjust to her increasing demands.

Trapped between her thighs, the pressure becomes all-encompassing, the weight of her pressing down leaving you barely able to think beyond her. Each inhale feels heavier, as though her scent is suffocating you in the most intoxicating way. You pour everything into your movements, your tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles, convinced that her silence is approval, that the steady roll of her hips means you’ve found exactly what she wants.

The seconds stretch into minutes, your efforts intensifying as her body shifts with increasing deliberation. The grind of her hips becomes more insistent, demanding, and you press harder, moving your tongue with more purpose. The pressure of her weight feels all-encompassing, her thighs gripping your head tightly, leaving you immobile, entirely at her mercy. You focus entirely on her, responding to her every movement, certain that you’re meeting her expectations.

Then, you feel it—a subtle, unmistakable slickness spreading against your tongue. It’s warm, intoxicating, and sends a jolt of confidence through you. Her arousal feels like confirmation, a silent acknowledgment that you’re doing something right. You match her movements with renewed focus, interpreting the growing wetness as proof of your success.

But then, without warning, her weight lifts.

The sudden loss of pressure is startling, disorienting, and you blink against the light as your eyes flutter open. The brightness of the room feels blinding, a harsh contrast to the cocoon of warmth and scent you’d been engulfed in. Her essence still lingers heavily in the air, clinging to you, intoxicating, making your head spin like you’ve been drinking something far too strong.

“Wait…” you murmur, the word slipping out unbidden as she rises fully. Without thinking, you push upward, your body instinctively trying to follow hers, desperate to maintain the contact, to hold onto the sensation. You feel drunk, untethered, and you try to lift your head toward her, as if that alone could pull her back down.

But Miyeon moves with calm, dismissive ease, pulling her skirt down and smoothing it into place with the same practiced precision she began with. She steps off the bench, her movements steady and composed, as though what just happened was a passing thought, nothing more than a fleeting interruption.

Her expression remains untouched by the moment, her gaze sharp and appraising as she looks down at you. The cool detachment in her eyes feels like a splash of cold water, banishing the haze that had clouded your mind. The confidence you felt just moments ago evaporates as she folds her arms, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“Time’s up,” she says smoothly, her tone businesslike, almost bored. There’s no emotion, no warmth in her voice, as though she’s closing a meeting rather than commenting on your performance.

You sit up slowly, your body unsteady, your breath uneven as you try to process what just happened. The remnants of her scent and taste cling to you, making your head feel light, dizzy, as though you’re still intoxicated by her presence. Your mind clings desperately to the moments when you thought she was responding—the subtle shifts, the pressing weight of her hips, the slick warmth of her against you. You were so sure you’d succeeded, but the cold finality of her words shatters that illusion.

Miyeon steps back, her expression unchanging as she watches you. Her gaze remains fixed, cool and detached, giving nothing away. The silence stretches, heavy and suffocating, as you wait for her to say something, anything, that might redeem the moment.

But she doesn’t. Her stance, her tone, her movements—all of it makes one thing clear: you’ve fallen short.

Her silence stretches, heavy and oppressive, before she finally speaks.

“You get a C,” she says, her voice unhurried, calm, and somehow all the more cutting for it. Each word lands with surgical precision, slicing through the hope you’d just started to build. Her tone is devoid of emotion, her expression cold and detached, as though grading a forgettable report. “You missed the mark entirely.”

The words feel like a punch, knocking the breath from your lungs. You stare at her, struggling to process, grappling with the sudden weight of failure. “You’re giving me a…C? But I thought—I felt you get wet, Ms. Cho. I thought…”

Her eyes narrow just slightly, enough to silence you before you can finish. The room feels colder as her gaze sharpens, pinning you in place.

“Did you?” she replies, her tone so detached it feels clinical. “Just because my body has natural reactions doesn’t mean you were doing anything remarkable. Don’t confuse basic biological responses with skill.”

Her words hit like ice water, cutting through the fog of your confusion and hope. She takes a step closer, her presence looming, her expression hardening as she begins to dissect your performance with brutal precision.

“Your efforts lacked strength,” she begins, her voice carrying a steely edge. “Your tongue was weak—unfocused. No rhythm, no consistency. I set a pace for you, and you couldn’t even manage that.”

She pauses, letting the words sink in, her critical gaze sweeping over you as though she’s already dismissed you. The weight of her disappointment presses down harder than her thighs ever did.

“And you completely ignored my clit,” she continues, her tone growing colder, harsher, each syllable cutting deeper. “I practically guided you there, made it obvious, yet somehow, you missed the most important part.” Her lips curl into a faint smirk, but there’s no humor in it, only a razor-sharp derision. “I even grinded myself against you, practically handing you the answer, and still, you failed to deliver.”

Her words are relentless, brutal. Each one dissects a flaw you hadn’t even realized, exposing every weak point you thought you’d hidden. It’s as if she’s stripping you down to the core, piece by piece, revealing everything you couldn’t see in yourself.

She takes a measured step back, her voice dropping lower, colder. “The bare minimum,” she says, enunciating each word with icy precision, “is to make me cum. And you couldn’t even come close to doing that.”

The words hit like a hammer, reverberating in the silence that follows. The finality in her tone leaves no room for argument, no possibility for redemption. Her gaze remains fixed on you, sharp and unwavering, her disappointment so palpable it feels like it’s physically crushing you.

“I don’t need someone who merely tries,” she continues, her tone growing colder still, like frost spreading across the room. “I need someone who performs, who instinctively understands what I require without me having to spell it out. Excellence isn’t negotiable in this position.

The words leave you hollow, your confidence shattered under the force of her critique. Each syllable lands with precision, tearing apart every scrap of pride or hope you’d felt during the act. The air feels suffocating, thick with the weight of her disappointment.

“Please, Ms. Cho,” you manage, forcing the words out even as a lump rises in your throat. “Give me another chance. I can do better—I’ll work on everything you said, I’ll improve if you just—”

She raises a hand, cutting you off, her expression turning to stone. The gesture alone silences you, her gaze cold and unrelenting.

“There won’t be another chance,” she states, the words cold and final. “Not here. I don’t invest my time in mediocrity.”

Her dismissal feels absolute. Her attention shifts away from you, as though you’re no longer worth a moment of her time. She steps back to her desk, picking up a pen with the same calm precision she’s shown all evening, and resumes her work without so much as a glance in your direction. The sound of the pen scratching against paper feels deafening in the silence.

“You may leave,” she says coolly, her tone as unyielding as stone. “This position requires skill, precision, instinct—and you’ve shown none of those.”

The words hang heavy in the air, sharp and final, cutting through the silence like a gavel. Your body feels frozen in place, unable to move as the weight of her judgment presses down on you. Slowly, numbly, you rise, your legs unsteady beneath you, your chest tight with the sting of failure.

Each step toward the door feels heavier than the last, your mind replaying her critique with relentless clarity. The sharpness of her dismissal leaves you feeling stripped bare, your confidence shattered completely. You’d thought you’d done well, thought you’d sensed her responding, but her cold, clinical analysis has left no room for doubt. You fell short—entirely.

As you reach the door, you glance back once, hoping for even a flicker of warmth or reconsideration in her expression. But Miyeon’s gaze remains fixed on her paperwork, her focus already shifted, as though you’ve ceased to exist in her world.

You leave, her scent and the weight of her words lingering heavily in the air around you, each step away from her office feeling like another layer of failure pressing down.

The weight of her words settles heavily in the silence that follows, each one lingering in the air like a closing door. You stand, feeling hollow, the sting of failure biting deep. Each step toward the door feels impossibly heavy, as if you’re dragging your very sense of self along with you. Her critique replays in your mind, each cutting line driving the shame and disappointment deeper. By the time you reach the door, her dismissal has stripped you of whatever pride you had left, leaving you exposed and aching with the sting of her judgment.

As you step out of the building, the scent of her perfume still clings to the air around you, subtle but intoxicating. Her taste lingers on your lips, and her piercing gaze haunts your thoughts, replaying again and again with relentless clarity. You can’t stop thinking about every moment, every mistake, every opportunity you missed. Her words echo in your mind, each replay stinging more than the last, but beneath the pain and disappointment, something else lingers—a pull, an inexplicable need.

There’s something magnetic about her, something that refuses to let go. The effortless authority she carried, the way she dismissed you without a second glance—it’s intoxicating, a force that leaves you restless, unsettled. The intensity of her presence lingers, drawing you back even as the humiliation burns. Somehow, you want another chance, not to prove yourself to anyone else but to her—to earn her approval, to be exactly what she demanded.

-----

The morning after that unforgettable Monday encounter with Miyeon, you wake with her still lingering in your mind—her voice, her scent, the calm precision with which she had dismissed you. The memory of her critique, her unyielding detachment, plays over and over, cutting deeper each time. Somehow, she has taken root in your thoughts, filling them in a way you can’t ignore. Her essence lingers—not just a memory but something that feels alive, woven into every corner of your mind, unrelenting and impossible to shake.

The café where you usually spend your mornings feels miles away, though it’s just down the block. Instead of showing up to your shift, you find yourself sitting at your small kitchen table, staring blankly at your phone, waiting for something—anything—that might offer a way forward. The thought of pouring coffee, of going through the motions while she dominates your thoughts, feels unbearable.

By late morning, desperation pushes you to try a respectful, measured call to her office. Yuqi’s voice is professional, polite, and painfully impersonal. You introduce yourself, forcing your tone to stay steady even as urgency tinges every word.

“I wanted to see if Ms. Cho might be open to reconsidering…” you begin, your heart pounding with every syllable. “I know I didn’t meet her expectations, but if I could just speak with her, I’m sure I could—”

“She’s made her decision,” Yuqi replies with finality, her words cool and unyielding. “Ms. Cho has a very clear standard.”

The line goes silent, and you’re left holding the phone, the emptiness pressing down on you like a weight. Your heart sinks, but the idea of giving up feels unbearable. That night, you sit down at your desk, composing an email that takes far longer than it should. Every word feels inadequate, yet you pour your sincerity into each sentence. You admit your mistakes, express your deep respect for her, and humbly ask for another chance. As you hit send, you close your eyes and release a shaky breath, hoping your words will reach her, that she’ll sense your sincerity.

By the next morning, there’s no reply. The café calls to ask if you’re coming in, but you barely register the message. You can’t go back—not yet. The silence from Miyeon feels sharper now, amplifying your anxiety. Without thinking twice, you call her office again. This time, your tone carries a quiet urgency, though you fight to keep it professional.

“I understand Ms. Cho’s standards are high,” you say softly, your voice earnest, almost pleading. “But I know I can meet them. I just need a chance to show her.”

The rest of the day drags, heavy with unanswered questions. As evening falls, you find yourself composing another email, this time rawer, more vulnerable. You lay everything bare—your mistakes, your desire to improve, and just how much this opportunity means to you. With trembling hands, you hit send, feeling both exposed and hopeful.

By midweek, the desperation gnaws at you like a dull ache that refuses to leave. Miyeon has somehow consumed your every thought. Her presence is no longer just a memory—it feels like she’s there, looming in the edges of your mind, controlling your every emotion. Her scent, her voice, her unyielding control—they haunt you in the quiet moments, filling your chest with a weight that grows heavier with each passing day.

You’ve stopped checking your work schedule entirely. The thought of being surrounded by noise and chatter while Miyeon’s critique echoes in your mind is unbearable. It’s as if nothing else matters but reaching her, proving yourself worthy of her attention, her approval.

That afternoon, you decide to go in person. Nerves buzz under your skin as you step into the sleek lobby of Ascend International, the company’s towering headquarters. Yuqi greets you at the desk with a polite but distant smile, her practiced professionalism impossible to crack.

“Hi,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m here to leave a message for Ms. Cho. I’d like to speak with her if she’s available.”

Her smile doesn’t waver, though there’s a flicker of sympathy in her eyes. “I’ll be sure she receives your message,” she says with polite finality.

As you walk away, hope mingles with dread. You tell yourself she must know—must feel—how far you’re willing to go to prove yourself. It’s impossible to imagine her being unaware of your persistence, of how deeply she’s embedded herself into your thoughts. Yet the silence continues to gnaw at you, relentless in its clarity.

Thursday passes in a haze. You leave another voicemail, your voice trembling with the weight of your growing need.

“Please,” you say softly, almost whispering into the receiver. “I know I fell short. But if she would just allow me one more chance, I won’t disappoint her.”

The intensity of your plea surprises even you, but at this point, pride is irrelevant. You’d give anything just for the chance to redeem yourself. As you leave the office, you find yourself in the lobby once more, hoping for even the faintest sign of acknowledgment. Yuqi looks at you with that same polite sympathy, her small kindness like a bitter reminder that you’re clinging to something fragile.

By Friday morning, the week’s silence feels unbearable. Every unanswered call, every unread email, weighs on you like a sentence passed. Miyeon’s critique plays in your mind with brutal clarity, her voice sharp and cutting as she dismisses you. It’s as if she left a part of herself with you, tethering you to her, drawing you back no matter how much it stings. You can’t let her go, and yet you fear that every effort has been futile.

Then, just when your resolve begins to waver, your phone rings. The unknown number on the screen sends your pulse racing, and you answer with shaky hands.

“Ms. Cho has agreed to see you,” Yuqi announces, her tone brisk and efficient. “Tonight at 8 p.m. sharp. Do not be late.”

Relief crashes over you like a wave, your heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and gratitude. You’ve been granted another chance—a chance to prove yourself, to rise to her impossible standards. As you hang up, the tension that has consumed you all week begins to dissipate, replaced by a renewed determination. Tonight, everything will change

-----

By 7:30 p.m., you’re pacing in the sleek lobby of Ascend International, nerves thrumming under your skin like a live wire. The building’s towering glass walls reflect the city’s lights, casting long shadows across the pristine marble floor. Yuqi sits at her desk, her posture casual yet poised, her sharp eyes occasionally flicking up to you as you move restlessly.

When the clock hits 7:40, you finally gather the courage to approach her desk. Yuqi’s gaze snaps to you, her lips curving into a faint smirk as she leans forward slightly, her tone light and teasing. “Nervous?” she asks, though it’s clear she already knows the answer.

You nod, swallowing hard. “She’s expecting me,” you manage, trying to keep your voice steady, though it cracks slightly under the weight of your nerves.

Yuqi doesn’t hide her amusement. “Oh, I know,” she replies, her tone bordering on playful, though there’s something sharp beneath it. She taps a perfectly manicured nail against her desk before gesturing toward the elevator. “Same room. You’re cutting it close, so I’d suggest moving quickly. Miyeon’s not known for her patience.”

Her words make your pulse quicken, and you nod quickly, stepping toward the elevator. But just as the doors slide open, Yuqi calls out, her voice dropping into something almost conspiratorial. “Good luck,” she says, a hint of mock pity in her tone. “You’ll need it.”

The elevator ride feels endless, the quiet hum of the machinery doing nothing to calm your racing thoughts. By the time you reach the top floor, your hands are trembling, and a bead of sweat rolls down your temple. You step out into a long, dimly lit hallway, its polished floors gleaming beneath your shoes. The door to Miyeon’s office looms at the end, imposing and unyielding, and you force yourself to move forward, each step heavier than the last.

At exactly 7:45, you’re standing outside Miyeon’s office. The weight of the moment presses down on you, suffocating, as you glance at the sleek double doors. This is it—the culmination of a week spent consumed by thoughts of her, by desperation, by the need to redeem yourself. Her dismissal on Monday has been looping in your mind, relentless and unforgiving, and you’ve been preparing for this moment every second since.

Taking a deep breath, you press your hand to the door and push it open.

The atmosphere inside Miyeon’s office is heavy, almost oppressive. Everything about the space exudes power, from the minimalist decor to the sharp angles of her desk.

Miyeon is seated behind it, her posture as precise as ever, her face unreadable. Tonight, though, there’s a sharpness to her expression, a tension in the way her hands rest on the desk. Her gaze lands on you the moment you step inside, freezing you in place. Her eyes are piercing, cutting straight through any pretense of confidence you’ve tried to muster.

“You’re back,” she says, her voice sharper than you remember, each word clipped and deliberate. The skepticism in her tone slices through the air, leaving no room for pretense. She lets the silence linger, her gaze unrelenting, before she adds, “I suppose you’re here to prove something.”

“Yes, Ms. Cho,” you manage, forcing yourself to stand taller, to appear more confident than you feel. Your voice is steady, but inside, you’re unraveling under her scrutiny. “I’m ready to meet your standards.”

Her lips curl into the faintest smirk, though it holds no warmth. If anything, it feels like a challenge, an unspoken test to see if you’ll falter. She stands slowly, her movements deliberate, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor as she rounds the desk. Every step feels measured, calculated, as if she’s sizing you up all over again.

When she reaches you, her gaze doesn’t waver. She tilts her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. “You’ve had an entire week to think about Monday,” she says, her tone cool, almost conversational. “Tell me—what makes you think this time will be any different?”

You swallow hard, the question hitting you like a punch to the gut. “I’ve… I’ve thought about everything you said, Ms. Cho,” you reply, your voice quieter now, but no less determined. “I know I fell short, but I’ve prepared. I’m ready to prove that I can meet your expectations.”

Her eyes flicker, the faintest glimmer of something unreadable passing through them. She doesn’t respond immediately, letting the silence stretch until your nerves feel like they’re about to snap. Then, with a brisk motion, she gestures toward the center of the room.

“Then show me,” she says simply, her voice low but charged with authority. “And don’t waste my time.”

Without needing further instruction, you step toward the corner of the room where the bench waits, sleek and polished under the dim office lights. You retrieve it carefully, its weight familiar in your hands, and position it in the center of the room. The leather gleams, the elevated headrest perfectly angled for what you know is to come, designed to cradle you in place beneath her.

You lower yourself onto the bench, the leather cool and firm beneath you, grounding you as you settle into position. The headrest cradles your head, tilting your face upward in a way that leaves you open, exposed, perfectly aligned beneath her. Your breath quickens as Miyeon steps closer, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. Each step feels deliberate, each sound echoing the weight of your expectations.

She stops just in front of you, her sharp gaze sweeping over you, calm and detached, as though calculating every detail. Without a word, she slips off her heels and sets them aside. Her fingers move to the hem of her skirt, gathering the fabric upward with fluid grace. Her thighs come into view, smooth and commanding, a contrast of elegance and strength. The edge of her lace panties teases at your vision before she moves them aside with a simple, routine motion.

Her scent—muskier, richer than you remembered—immediately fills the air. It’s overwhelming, a heady blend of something primal and intimate, saturating your senses as she steps forward and positions herself above you. It’s a smell that haunted you this entire week, lingering like an ache in the back of your mind. You’d tried to forget, to push it aside, but nothing could dull the memory of her—the way she consumed you so entirely, only to dismiss you without a second thought. Now, as her warmth radiates above you, it feels like you’re being granted water in a desert, but only if you can prove you’re worthy to drink.

When she lowers herself, her weight presses down fully, engulfing you in her presence. Her thighs press against your cheeks, trapping you completely beneath her. Each shallow breath you manage is filled entirely with her scent, and for a moment, you’re paralyzed by how familiar it feels, how much you’d been craving this. It’s as though the week of rejection, of begging for this chance, has only amplified your hunger. Nothing else could satisfy you but her.

Tentatively, you begin, pressing your tongue to her with slow, cautious strokes. Her taste fills your senses—earthy and rich, tinged with saltiness, intensely familiar and utterly consuming. The longing you’ve carried for days surges forward, and you push past your hesitation, tracing deliberate patterns as you adjust to the faint shifts of her body. Her warmth grows against you, and you focus entirely on her, on the faint signals she gives—the flex of her thighs, the subtle tilt of her hips.

Her breathing remains steady, restrained, and her body feels poised, in control, as if she’s still testing you. You move with more purpose, pressing your tongue more firmly, hoping to draw a reaction, to prove you’ve learned. Her hips begin to move slightly, setting a measured rhythm, and you match it, your tongue tracing careful circles in time with her movements.

Her thighs tighten slightly, holding you in place, and her warmth presses against you more firmly. For a fleeting moment, you think you’re succeeding, that you’re drawing her into the moment. But then, her weight begins to lift.

The change is subtle at first—the brief press of her thighs as they shift upward—but it’s enough to make your heart drop. Her warmth pulls away, leaving a sudden void that feels unbearable. Her expression is faintly impatient as she rises, her movements deliberate, as though confirming what she already suspected: that you’ve failed her again.

A horrible sense of déjà vu washes over you, sharp and unrelenting. The rejection from your first evaluation, the cold detachment in her voice, all come rushing back, amplifying the ache in your chest. The memory of that moment has haunted you all week, and now it feels as though it’s happening all over again. Panic claws at you, raw and immediate.

Her voice cuts through the silence, low and unimpressed. “I see you haven’t learned anything.”

The words slice through you, sharp and final, and desperation surges in their wake. You can’t let her leave—not again. Before she can move further, you reach up, your hands trembling as they find her hips, gently but firmly holding her in place. Your lips brush against her folds, pressing soft, pleading kisses that linger just a moment longer than they should.

“Please, Ms. Cho,” you whisper against her, your voice breaking. “Don’t leave. I know I can do better. Please—just let me try.”

She doesn’t move. You press another kiss to her, slower this time, the desperation in you mounting. “Please,” you murmur, your voice shaking. “I need this. I need to show you. I won’t fail you.”

Another kiss. She doesn’t lower herself, doesn’t speak, and the silence feels crushing. Your kisses grow more frantic, more desperate, your lips trembling as you pour every ounce of pleading into them.

“Don’t go,” you whisper between kisses, your voice cracking with emotion. “Please, Ms. Cho. I’ll do anything—just give me this chance. Let me prove I can please you.”

You press another kiss, and this time it lingers, your lips soft and reverent against her warmth. “Please…” you murmur again, the word barely audible, carrying the weight of everything you’ve felt this past week—the sleepless nights, the ache in your chest, the obsessive need to have this moment again.

For a moment, the air is suffocatingly still. Her body remains poised above you, her thighs tense, her piercing gaze boring into yours, unreadable and unwavering. You’re left hanging, each second dragging painfully as you wait for her to decide if your pleading, your desperation, is enough.

Finally, she shifts, lowering herself back down slowly, deliberately. Her weight settles on you again with a quiet finality, her thighs bracketing your face and trapping you completely beneath her warmth. Her presence floods your senses again, her scent, her taste, her closeness—more consuming now, more intense after nearly losing it.

“Continue,” she says, her tone clipped and cold, leaving no room for hesitation. “This is your last chance.”

Her words settle heavily in the air, fueling your determination. She lowers herself slowly, her weight pressing down on you with deliberate command. Her warmth engulfs you completely, her thighs framing your head, trapping you in place. Her scent surrounds you—intense, musky, and deeply familiar, stirring the longing that had haunted you since her rejection. This is your moment, your chance to prove yourself, and you won’t squander it.

You press your tongue to her carefully at first, savoring the sensation. Her taste floods your senses—earthy, slightly salty, and utterly her. It’s overwhelming, a reminder of everything you’ve been craving since that first evaluation. You move cautiously, tracing along her in slow, deliberate strokes, letting her subtle shifts guide you.

As you work, her hips begin to move slightly, a faint rhythm that you match immediately. You focus entirely on her clit, finding it with purpose and letting your tongue trace precise circles over the sensitive spot. Her body responds subtly at first—a slight flex of her thighs, a faint deepening of her breathing—but then she begins to grind against you, her movements deliberate, setting a demanding pace.

Her thighs tighten around your head, holding you firmly, and her warmth spreads against you as her arousal builds. The faint scent of her grows stronger, more intoxicating with each passing moment. The low sounds that escape her—soft, unrestrained moans—cut through the silence, quiet but impossible to miss. The sound of her pleasure fills you with renewed purpose, driving you to push harder, to make her lose the control she clings to so tightly.

You adjust seamlessly to her movements, your tongue pressing more firmly as her hips set a rhythm that grows more demanding with each passing second. The warmth of her envelops you completely, her scent thick and intoxicating, saturating your senses until nothing else exists. Her thighs flex around your head, tightening their hold, as if to anchor herself against the rising tide of sensation. Every inhale you take is filled with her, each shallow breath a reminder of the position she holds over you.

Her soft moans slip past her lips, each one slightly louder than the last, their restrained nature fraying at the edges. The controlled grace she carried moments ago begins to falter, her movements sharpening as her hips grind against your tongue with increasing insistence. You respond instinctively, letting your tongue trace circles that align perfectly with her pace, adjusting to every subtle cue her body gives.

Her thighs tremble against your cheeks, their strength faltering as the tension in her body builds. The moans grow breathier, tinged with urgency, and her weight presses down more fully, holding you in place beneath her. Her breathing becomes uneven, hitching with every deliberate motion of your tongue as you follow her lead, unrelenting in your efforts to meet her every need.

Suddenly, her movements grow erratic, the control she held so tightly slipping entirely. Her body tenses above you, her thighs clenching tightly around your head, cutting off your world to everything but her. A sharp, shuddering moan escapes her lips, low and unrestrained, the sound raw and involuntary. Her hips press down fully, grinding against your tongue with forceful, almost frantic motions, riding the crest of her climax.

Her body tightens completely, trembling violently as wave after wave of pleasure overtakes her. You remain steady beneath her, your tongue moving with careful persistence, guiding her through every pulse, drawing out each lingering sensation. Her knuckles whiten as her grip on the head rest tighten, her breaths coming in short, uneven gasps.

For a long moment, she remains like that—tense, trembling, pressing herself fully against you as the final shudders of release course through her. Only when her body begins to relax does her grip loosen, her thighs softening their hold on your head. Even then, you don’t stop entirely, your movements gentle now, offering a last, tender caress as her breathing begins to steady once more.

Her breathing slows as her movements begin to still, her weight easing slightly as she lifts herself just enough to create space. But as her warmth pulls away, a thought flashes through your mind: this isn’t enough. You can’t just meet her expectations—you need to surpass them.

Sliding your hands up, you let your palms glide over the curve of her hips, steadying her as you adjust her position slightly. Your fingers trail downward, curling firmly to grab handfuls of her cheeks. The sensation of her soft skin under your hands is electrifying, and you feel the tension in her body shift as you grip her firmly. You spread her open with care, creating the perfect angle to access her most sensitive, tightest spot. It’s a bold move—one she hasn’t guided you to, one she hasn’t even hinted at—but you know you need to take this risk. You have to make yourself unforgettable.

With deliberate intent, your tongue traces lower, teasing the sensitive curve of her entrance before pressing further, exploring the tight ring of her ass. The sensation is new, unexpected, and her reaction is immediate.

Her body jolts slightly, her hips lifting momentarily in surprise as a sharp, breathy gasp escapes her lips. For a split second, your heart races, unsure if you’ve overstepped. But then her hips press back down against you, a reflexive movement that tells you everything you need to know. Her thighs tremble against your cheeks as her weight shifts fully onto your face, and the tension in her body gives way to something rawer, more unrestrained.

Her moans begin to spill freely now, soft and breathy at first, slipping past the tight control she holds so carefully. The sound fuels you, driving you to press deeper, to let your tongue move in slow, deliberate circles over her most sensitive areas. Her grip on the desk falters as her hips grind harder against you, her movements growing more erratic, more demanding.

You alternate between her ass and her folds, moving with seamless precision. Your tongue delves deeply, savoring her, while your nose brushes against her slick warmth with each shift. Her hips jerk, grinding against your face as though her body can’t decide which sensation to crave more. The weight of her bears down heavily, leaving you struggling for air, but all you can think about is her. Every detail—the way her thighs tighten around your head, the faint tremble in her muscles, the unrestrained sounds spilling from her lips—it consumes you entirely.

Her thighs shift slightly, and then, with a deliberate motion, she lifts her legs off the floor, letting her entire weight press fully onto you. The headrest beneath you creaks slightly, adjusting to the added pressure as she settles in, trapping you completely beneath her. The shift is overwhelming, her body sinking into yours entirely, her warmth and slickness engulfing your senses. Each shallow breath you manage is filled with her scent, and the sensation is intoxicating.

Your hands tighten on her cheeks, spreading her wider as you focus entirely on her ass. You let your tongue explore deeply, pressing into her with slow, deliberate strokes, circling and teasing the sensitive area with unrelenting purpose. Her body tenses above you, her thighs trembling violently as her breathing turns ragged and uneven. Each exhale is sharp, shaky, and punctuated by guttural moans that grow louder and less restrained as she begins to lose control.

Her hips grind down against your face, her rhythm faltering, her movements desperate. Her breathing becomes erratic, catching with each flick of your tongue, until the sounds spilling from her lips dissolve into broken gasps. The pressure of her weight presses down harder, and her thighs clamp around your head with such force that it feels like she’s grounding herself entirely in you, refusing to let you go.

Her body begins to quake above you, losing all rhythm as her hips move erratically, chasing the sensations building within her. Her breathing stutters sharply, and then, with one raw, unrestrained cry—the loudest, most primal moan you’ve ever heard from her—her climax overtakes her.

Her entire body shudders violently, her hips grinding down fully, pressing you deeper into the headrest as she rides out wave after wave of intense pleasure. Her slick wetness spills onto your face, warm and undeniable, marking the raw power of her release. The sensation spurs you on, your tongue moving with soft but purposeful strokes, coaxing every last tremor from her body.

Her thighs quiver uncontrollably, gripping your head like a vice as she rides through the overwhelming storm of her climax. Each moan spills from her lips in sharp, uneven bursts, her control shattered entirely. Her grip on the headrest tightens, her knuckles white, as though anchoring herself against the intensity of the moment.

You can feel her unraveling completely, her body vibrating with aftershocks that seem to go on forever. Her weight remains heavy on you, holding you in place as she takes in shallow, ragged breaths, her body still trembling with the echoes of her release. Even as her movements begin to slow, her thighs remain locked around you, as though she’s reluctant to let go of the sensation. Every ounce of her focus is still on you, every ounce of yours entirely on her.

Finally, her body begins to relax. Her breathing slows, and her thighs loosen their hold, trembling slightly as she lifts herself off you with deliberate care. Her legs are unsteady as she straightens, smoothing her skirt with the practiced precision you’ve come to expect. Her breathing is still uneven, her chest rising and falling as she regains her composure.

For a moment, she stands there silently, her gaze heavy and unreadable as it lingers on you. The scent of her, the taste of her, clings to you, saturating your senses entirely. The room feels charged, her presence commanding even in stillness. You dare not assume anything—she’s still the one in control, and any sign of approval must come from her. Yet, in the weight of her silence, you can’t help but feel that you’ve done something right.

Her chest rises and falls evenly as she regains her composure, her expression remaining as poised and inscrutable as ever. You think you’ve proven yourself, think you’ve risen to her exacting standards, but the thought lingers, unspoken, as you wait. Every second stretches, heavy with anticipation, until finally, she speaks.

“Well done,” she murmurs, her tone softer than usual but still carrying that commanding edge. The weight of her approval lands squarely on you, and a quiet sense of pride begins to unfurl in your chest. Then, with a slight glance back at you, her lips curve in what could almost be a smile—subtle, fleeting, but unmistakable.

“Bold,” she says, her tone as measured as ever, but there’s a hint of something beneath it—impressed. “Unexpected, but… effective.”

The words hit you like a wave, filling your chest with pride, though you keep your expression neutral, refusing to let the satisfaction show too openly. Still, the acknowledgment lingers, affirming that your risk wasn’t just noticed but appreciated.

“Report here Monday morning,” she continues briskly, her tone returning to business. “You’ve earned your place.”

Her words hang in the air, settling over you like a blanket of relief. You don’t let the triumph show too openly, knowing she’s still watching you, but a quiet sense of accomplishment blooms within. She turns away, stepping back toward her desk with deliberate, unhurried movements, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor. The sound carries finality, a subtle dismissal, but also an acknowledgment of what you’ve achieved.

You remain where you are for a moment, your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath, her scent and taste still vivid, still clinging to you. The weight of her words settles warmly over you—a victory hard won, a moment of validation you’ll carry with you. You’ve proven yourself tonight, but you know better than to assume it’s enough. This is only the beginning.

A faint trace of satisfaction flickers across her face as she glances at you one last time, her gaze lingering briefly before returning to her work. With an elegant nod, she dismisses you, her attention already shifting back to her desk.

Carefully, you rise, your legs unsteady from the intensity of the moment. Before leaving, you reach for the bench, the familiar weight grounding you as you lift it and carry it back to its original place in the corner of the room. The small act feels significant, almost ceremonial, as though returning it to its spot closes this chapter of the evening. Once it’s in place, you step back, sparing a glance at Miyeon, who is already engrossed in her work, her demeanor as composed as ever.

Each step toward the door feels deliberate, carrying the weight of everything it took to earn this moment. As you leave her office, the memory of her words—and her body—lingers in your mind, a reminder of what you’ve achieved and what’s still expected of you.

The quiet buzz of the building greets you as you exit, a stark contrast to the intensity of the room you just left. The evening air feels cooler, crisper, as you step outside, but the warmth of her approval stays with you. Miyeon’s words echo in your mind, solidifying the pride swelling in your chest.

“Bold. Unexpected, but effective.”

Those words, more than anything, stay with you, reminding you of the risks you took and the reward you earned. Monday will bring new challenges, but for the first time, you feel fully prepared to meet them. You’ve been given a chance to prove yourself again, and you’re determined to exceed every expectation.

-----

Back in the office, after the door softly clicks shut, Yuqi steps inside and leans against the frame, arms crossed and a smirk on her lips. “Alright, spill,” she teases. “What’s the deal? You actually allowed a second chance? I thought that wasn’t your thing.”

Miyeon glances up from her desk, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Oh, please. I knew from the start I was going to,” she says smoothly. “There was potential. I just needed to see it under the right conditions.”

Yuqi raises an eyebrow, the smirk widening. “So the whole week of calls and emails? You’re telling me that wasn’t just for your entertainment?”

A faint smile curves Miyeon’s lips as she leans back in her chair. “Maybe I enjoyed it,” she admits. “But desperation does something extraordinary—it strips away everything unnecessary. What’s left is either weakness or strength.”

“You and your tests,” Yuqi mutters, shaking her head with a laugh. “You could’ve just brought it up on Monday.”

“That wouldn’t have shown me what I needed to see,” Miyeon replies with a knowing glance. “Pressure reveals everything. It’s like a diamond—only the right conditions bring it out.”

“Wow,” Yuqi says, stepping forward to nudge Miyeon’s shoulder lightly. “Soft-hearted Cho strikes again. Admit it, you like a little drama.”

Miyeon chuckles, her tone turning playful. “Only when the effort is worth watching.”

“Noted,” Yuqi replies, heading for the door with an exaggerated wave. “Don’t worry, I’ll mark this historic event down. Second chances with Miyeon Cho—they’re like spotting Bigfoot. Rare and highly debated.”

Miyeon shakes her head, unable to suppress a laugh. “Get out of here, Yuqi.”

Yuqi grins, pausing at the door. “Hey, if you get bored over the weekend, you know where to find me. Or maybe I’ll just swing by Monday with popcorn to watch the show.”

Miyeon points to the door, her expression feigned exasperation. “Out.”

“Fine, fine,” Yuqi says, throwing her hands up in mock surrender before slipping through the door with a grin. “Don’t get too sentimental on me, boss.”

As the door closes behind her, Miyeon’s smile lingers. Her gaze drifts back to the now-empty space, thoughtful yet satisfied. She had known all along what could be achieved, but sometimes the right kind of desperation was the key. Pressure, determination, and grit—it all had to surface naturally, and it had.

With a quiet exhale, she turns back to her desk, already contemplating the days ahead with a sense of certainty.

[darkwitchoferie]

Pairing: Bang Chan/f!Reader, OT8/f!Reader

Summary: You start off as just Chan’s beloved girlfriend and end up in bed with all the members. It’s very smutty. I’m a little concerned for myself.

Tags: Smut, a little fluff, member x member action, unprotected p in v, not discussed but reader is on birth control, free use reader, consensual somnophilia discussed but not shown, cum eating, double vaginal penetration, mentioned anal between multiple members

A/N: I was originally going to submit this to @daydreams-after-dark for her birthday month, but then it got away from me (by so much) so I’m posting it and tagging her instead. It was sparked by one of the anons who sent in a scenario about being passed around the whole group.

So, Sorsha, firstly, Happy Birthday month! Secondly, I am so sorry for the loss in your family. It's hard any time of year, but for me personally, it always hit just a little harder around the holidays. I am so sorry you're going through this.

But, for a bit of distraction and birthday gift:

Picture this – you’re Chan’s girlfriend and he adores you, wants to give you absolutely anything and everything he has the capability of providing. He also loves to help his members, we all know that. So one night, after he’s fucked you stupid, you’ve lost track of exactly how many times he made you come, and you’re seconds away from falling asleep, your tongue is less guarded than usual and you confess to a fantasy about being a fuck toy for all the boys. He doesn’t get a chance to ask about it because you fall asleep before you finish your sentence.

He has an early schedule the next day, the kind where he leaves before you even wake up, and he can’t focus because now, every time he looks at the boys, he’s picturing them fucking you and he is a little surprised by how far from upset he is about it. This wasn’t something that had occurred to him and if it had, he might’ve thought he’d be too jealous to want it. But now, every time he hears their voices or glances over at them, he’s wondering if you’ll make the same sounds for them that you make for him. And if the dance they’re practicing has body rolls in it? Forget it, he’s gone. More than once he’s had to make them leave a room ahead of him so he can get his dick under control.

That evening, he gets back to your apartment completely frazzled and on edge. He doesn’t know if he wants to fuck you first, to get himself partly under control, or if he needs to talk to you about your confession. Somewhat unsurprisingly, considering the state you were in, he has to remind you of what you said. You don’t deny it, but now you look a little scared of his reaction. Is he gonna be all possessive like he gets sometimes? Does he think you’re disgusting? Does he think you’ve cheated on him? These thoughts are racing so fast in your head, that you don’t immediately notice how hard he is from thinking about it. A short while later, he has you on your back, buried deep in your cunt and he starts asking for more about this fantasy of yours.

You fell asleep, but I think there was more, wasn’t there baby?

Promise you won’t be mad?

How could I be mad at you?

It takes a while, but you get it all out. I want them to use me, whenever they want. Like when I’m wearing the necklace you gave me so you can fuck me whenever, wherever. I wanna do that for them too. Let them fuck me when I’m asleep after a long day like you do. Call me to the dance studio or recording studio ‘cause something’s not going right so you’re all stressed. Cockwarm Lixie or Minnie while he’s gaming. Fuck everybody during movie night. Ride Binnie’s thigh after a workout, when he’s still all sweaty. Let Jinnie paint me naked, then fuck him.

He can’t deny the way every scenario you bring up brings him closer to his own orgasm. After, when he’s laying on top of you, both trying to catch your breath, you whisper, most afraid of this part because you’re afraid he’ll think you think he’s not good enough. I’ll be happy with that, but I’d like to date them too, if they wanted.

You spend the next week or so talking about it, discussing boundaries – of which there are few and depend entirely on the individual guys – and how exactly you’re going to seduce each of them. You agree to a one-at-a-time approach, instead of just offering yourself up in the group chat, which had been your initial idea.

Jeongin, being Chan’s roommate, is first. The two of you “forget” when he’s going to be back so he “accidentally” walks in on you fucking in the living room. You reach out to him and Chan verbally invites him to join you and you get to learn exactly how good those fingers you’ve fantasied about feel in your pussy and your mouth while he fucks you.

Felix is next. You’re not sure what Chan told him to convince him to come over to your place instead of Chan’s, but they walk into your apartment for dinner together that turns into you splayed out on the kitchen table with Felix eating you for dinner and then confessing he’s had a fantasy about being between the two of you, one you’re both thrilled to fulfill for him.

Hyunjin was a little tricky. You weren’t sure he would go for it the same way Jeongin and Felix did, so you took him out first, seduced him slowly. Gentle touches to his arm or the nape of his neck the whole time you’re in the art museum, thighs pressed together at dinner after. He’s frazzled, feeling super awkward, and unsure what to think by the time you get to your apartment and then shocked when Chan asks how your date went, like it’s totally normal to date your friend’s girlfriend. The awkwardness vanishes the second you’re straddling his hips and sinking onto his cock, Chan watching from the chair in the corner of the room.

The gym the boys use at the company is being remodeled, really just getting new equipment so it’ll only be down for about two days. But Changbin’s complaining about not getting his cardio in on the right day, and how he doesn’t want to go for a run outside in the rain. So Chan suggests a different form of cardio. Which is how you find yourself face down, ass up, while the pair of them take turns until you’re a drooling, cum filled mess.

Seungmin is a bit more like Hyunjin, he’s not going to just jump into bed with you. He needs to be seduced and shown that he’s wanted first. He’s insecure, particularly if he starts comparing himself to the other members. So you look up schedules and plan to take him to a baseball game. He agrees, but calls Chan a few minutes later saying I think your girlfriend just asked me on a date.  She totally did. Did you not want to go out with her, ‘cause you should tell her now, she’s already picking out her outfit. His mouth goes dry at the shirt tight enough to show an imprint of your lace bra and short skirt combo you come out in when he comes to pick you up. You don’t know much about baseball, but he’s thrilled to explain it to you. And while, with a voice like his, you could happily listen to him read the dictionary to you, you love the look on his face when he’s explaining something he’s passionate about. Back at his apartment, the first round is just you two, but he takes a few videos to send to Chan. Then Lix gets home and joins you both.

There’s only Minho and Jisung left and you’re pretty sure you should go after them as a pair. You have all the others together, asking their opinions as well, and most of them agree, they’ve been called chopsticks before for a reason after all. Talking about it has gotten them all worked up though, which you’ve found isn’t a difficult thing to do. So, after settling on a straight forward date plan where you and Chan explain the whole thing to them first, Binnie has you held in the air, your back to his chest, his hands gripping your thighs and holding them open so the others can see exactly how well he splits you open. And so he can show off his strength. Felix, who’s sex drive seems to perfectly match yours, is already a whimpering mess on the couch before he sinks to the floor and crawls over to Hyunjin to suck his cock.

That is, naturally, when Jisung and Minho decide to wander into Chan and Jeongin’s apartment. You vaguely heard the commotion but, being too absorbed in Changbin, you didn’t really register what Chan and Jeongin tell the other two. After Binnie cums, filling you up, he passes you to Seungmin, who let’s you splay out on the floor with a perfect view of Jisung and Minho over his shoulders. Minho is pressed against Jisung’s back, one arm wrapped around his middle, lips close to his ear. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you can see the effect it’s having on him. You watch Jisung’s eyes go glassy, his mouth drops open and little whines slip out. His hips roll forward, seemingly without his conscious control. Minho, meanwhile, has the wickedest smirk on his face, staring straight at you the whole time. It’s his eyes you’re looking into when you cum on Seungmin’s cock.

As soon as Seungmin moves, Minho lets go of Jisung who is on his belly, face between your thighs so fast you’re impressed he didn’t fall. Your thighs clench around his head and that seems to spur him on more, licking Changbin and Seungmin’s cum out of you faster. You hear whimpering above you and turn to see it’s coming from Felix, whose eyes are glued to Jisung and who looks rather jealous. Before you can say anything, Chan catches it too and you recognize the glint in his eyes. It’s going to be a long, but very happy night.

And it is. You don’t really hear the exact words Chan says, but the gist of it is that they’re going to pass you around and each of the eight of them is going to cum inside you. Then, Felix and Jisung are going to eat it out of you. You can’t tell who’s more turned on by that – you, Felix, or Jisung. After that, things get a little hazy for you. There are so many hands on you and you never go for more than a minute without a cock filling you.

Jisung slides into you as soon as he’s licked you clean. He doesn’t last long, but you already came on his tongue, so you don’t even notice that you didn’t come on his cock. At some point Jeongin has you bent over the coffee table, thrusting into you from behind. Chan, because he thinks it’s adorable when you’re completely fucked out, tries to get you to ride him. You manage to roll your hips, but you’re so far gone that he giggles and takes over, thrusting up into you. Felix lays you on your side on the couch, letting you relax as much as you can while he thrusts into you, keeping one leg bent up and over his legs so you’re on display for the others. You know, because you can taste it when he kisses you, that he’s sucked off at least one person other than Hyunjin. Part of you is sorry you missed that. You don’t remember when Changbin and Seungmin fuck you again, but you know they did. You heard Binnie grunting in your ear and calling you Bunny. You think that might have been after Jeongin, still bent over the coffee table. You know Seungmin likes to see your face, so that had to have been him on the couch, after Felix, with your knees pressed to your chest.

You know, because you heard it, that both Felix and Jisung have each been fucked at least once, probably twice. You vaguely think someone fucked Jisung when he was inside you. You want to make a mental note to make sure you can watch that next time, but the thought is pushed right out of your head.

Then Minho’s sliding into you on the couch wondering how a slut who’s already taken so much cock can still be so tight. Hey Hyune, got an idea, come here. Then Hyunjin’s fingers are sliding into you beside Minho’s cock and you’re so full, you don’t think you could be fuller, but you’re wrong. You practically scream when Hyunjin slowly slides his cock into your pussy, sliding alongside Minho’s. They let you adjust before setting a punishing, alternating rhythm.

Felix is already on his back on the floor, when first Hyunjin then Minho cums. Minho holds you up, supporting your upper body as he slides you down so you can sit on Felix’s face. You can’t see it, but you can feel their combined cum oozing out of you and into Felix’s waiting mouth. Judging from the sounds under and around you, it must look obscenely good. Then you feel Jisung’s tongue join Felix’s. You grip Minho, digging your nails into his arms as the pair wring one final orgasm from you.

You collapse and Minho gently maneuvers you to the floor between Felix and Jisung. The trio of you, gasping for breath and in a hazy, post-sex space that you love, lay there and wait for the others. Chan and Minho are giving out instructions. Hyunjin’s sent upstairs to run a warm bath. Seungmin and Jeongin are tasked with getting drinks and food and bringing them up to the bathroom, though they bring out a water bottle for everyone first. Chan helps you sit up and drink the water. Then he, Changbin, and Minho are carrying you, Felix, and Jisung upstairs to the bath.

Gentle hands are washing you, Felix is cuddled into your chest and Jisung is fighting sleep where he’s cuddled against Felix.

You, babygirl, are a genius Chan says to you, kissing your forehead and tucking you into bed between Felix and Jisung, after convincing the trio of you to eat some of the food Seungmin and Jeongin bring up.

[dwaekkicidal]

thoughts on owner channie w puppy seungmin & kitty reader w owner lino  >ᴗ<?

the way i started pacing my room after reading this and waiting for my computer to turn on so i could write something LMFAO-

also u must be in my walls or something because ive been going batshit crazy over hybrids lately but i havent told anybody? get out of my head???

do NAWT ask me how this has 1.4k words... i will not explain myself.

nsfw below the cut» x reader mainly but mxm at the very end

anywhoooo.... onwards!

so lets just say that we have owner!channie who doesn't know what to do when his puppy!seungmin becomes a brat all of a sudden. he's growling at every male hybrid he looks at, not listening when channie tells him to do something, and even humping + cumming on a pillow or two (definitely more than that but channie doesn't have to know that)

and then he's meeting up with his best friend, kitty-owner!lino, who mocks his best friend for not being able to prove himself as the "head dog of the house"

he keeps up this teasing up until channie describes a few more behaviors that rings alarms in lino's head and he realizes that his friend's stupid mutt is just going into heat!! and lil ol' channie didn't think that far ahead so he's absolutely not prepared to deal with his puppy's first heat alone

but then lino reminds him that he has a pretty, well-behaved kitty sitting at home with no mate and her own heat on its way soon~ so they agree to have them meet and plan everything out

the first time you meet, seungmin is absolutely losing his shit >< he can smell you before he sees you and you just so smell so. sweet. his heat makes the smell a million times worse and he just wants to eat you alive. more figuratively than literally but he doesn't think he would mind taking a chomp or two-

and channie is absolutely mind-boggled that the stupid brat he's been dealing with all week is suddenly being good, all thanks to the mere presence of another hybrid.

little does he know it's only thanks to how hard seungmin is biting his cheek so that he doesn't bend you over right here, right now in the middle of this park where everybody would see

after that they move fast, thanks to seungmin's heat starting early, and lino prepares you as much as he can before helping you settle into channie's guest room

channie even put a mini fridge in there- filled it to the brim with both of your favorite drinks+water, put a huge stack of blankets and spare clothes on top of the dresser, and filled a few dresser drawers to the brim with snacks

channie took the week off of work while lino opted to "work from home" and they stayed close by, camping out in the living room together and "reluctantly" listening closely so they could hear any possible calls for help from either of you

but no matter how much preparation they made, they were not in the slightest prepared for how almost feral seungmin became

the first few hours were the most unbearable, it was hard for you to get used to this stupid, insatiable mutt and his unnecessarily big knot. but you did get used to it eventually!

it only took multiple rounds and your poor cunt getting overfilled with his cum, much to his dismay. it only made him angry and pushed him to fuck into you even harder as he whined and complained about how you "need to take it better" so he could fuck a litter or two into you.

& both men could hear the growling as well as the plap plap plap of seungmin's balls hitting your poor, abused cunt >< your moans and cries bleeding through the walls to the point where channie thought for a second he would get the cops called on him for a noise complaint

but he stopped worrying about that when the few seconds of silence were disrupted by even more sobs and begs for seungmin to give you his pups!

though, minnie took such good care of you after each round!! he made sure you drank enough water and was good on snacks until lino came in with the bigger meals for both of you. but, that was all thrown out the window when he found himself rock hard, yet again.

he just couldn't hold himself back from folding you into every position he could think of that would keep you below him, at his mercy, and keep your pretty, puffy pussy ready for him at all times

channie felt like it was constant. like the two of you had spent every minute of those days drooling over each other and fucking each other's brains out.

which to some degree was true... neither of you could deny that, but you both still got... occasional breaks! they may or may not have been short-lived before seungmin was ready to go again, but nobody needs to know that!

all that your owners needed to know was that, by the time seungmin's heat was over, you were well bred and he felt like himself again!

but- oh! would you look at that? your owners came in to help you guys clean up after the fact, but it appears that seungmin managed to trigger your heat... but not to worry! he is very keen on repaying you for your help and is already shoving his cock into you before lino can even get out the door~

so,, maybe you guys weren't exactly done yet.

bonus;

puppy!seungmin realizing he had a lot of fun misbehaving during his heat so, now that you and him are well acquainted and hang out multiple times throughout the week, he goes out of his way to make his owner's life miserable~

fucks you into every surface he can think of: the dining table, the kitchen counters, the bathroom sink, the bathtub/shower, the coffee table, the couch, against the windows, in the middle of the hallway, channie's desk...

channie's bed

& seungmin always makes sure you make the biggest mess possible so that he can see the veins on channie's neck pops out when he blames it on his "instincts"

it pushes ALL of channie's buttons. not only does he have to clean up the insane amounts of cum all around his place, but he also has to smell sex literally everywhere all while he "can't" get his dick wet :((

so i bring you: owner!lino who lets owner!channie fuck you, his eager kitty, into the mattress all the while puppy!seungmin is all but tied to a chair.

lino watches over him and makes sure that he doesn't touch himself, cum, or even look away from the bed, for that matter

double bonus; mxm continuation of ^

lino's got his big, veiny hands jerking minnie off only to pull away and leave him leaking when he almost cums for the nth time :((

& channie's never subjected him to anything like this before so he caves a lot sooner than any of them thought; tears prickling his pretty boba eyes and his cock an angry red as it twitches with each apology that comes out of his lips

but.. oh! their pretty kitty is too tired to go another round? 'oh im sorry minnie.' poor pup. 'what will we do with you now?'

it doesn't take long for channie to fold. he loves his puppy and he would do anything to make those stupid tears go away- even if that means splitting him in half on his cock <3

he'd always thought about fucking his pretty mutt, but never thought it was on the table until those big, begging puppy dog eyes stared up at him all watery and his puppy was sitting there begging him to help him :(

he can't help himself when he lays down and lets seungmin have his way with his cock! but then all of a sudden lino joins in- letting his kitty take a nap and rest while he slides a hand around seungmin's waist and the other in his hair

he controls his hip movements like this and snaps at channie when he tries to tell minho to 'just let him do what he wants.'

no. no. no. absolutely not. 'stupid pup needs to learn his lesson.'

lino makes them change positions so that they can eiffel tower him; lino fucking his throat raw while channie's dicking him down hard enough to make the boy feel him in his tummy <3

& he's making the biggest mess all over the sheets!! a mixture of drool and precum soaking dark spots into channie's previously clean sheets, the realization making something in channie snap hehe

yea. im sick in the head over this. thank u anon i love you so much

[uhhlifeig]

Hagrid's Hut - Nov. 4 - word count: 403 - @wolfstarmicrofic

The soft clink of teacups and the crackling fire filled Hagrid’s hut as two figures sat next to each other, their chairs at a rickety wooden table. 

The hut was warm and dimly lit, with an earthy, herbal scent from the mugs of tea in front of them.

Sirius Lupin swirled his with a spoon, eyes twinkling as he leaned back, grinning. “Remember that time we snuck out to the Forbidden Forest? In second year?”

Remus chuckled, wrapping his hands around his warm mug. “When James got us lost?”

His husband snorted. “Duh. He had the worst sense of direction, before fifth year. You were the one who finally led us back. If it were up to James, we’d still be in the forest.”

“Not my proudest moment,” the werewolf said with a smirk, “but I think the centaurs got a good laugh out of it.”

They both laughed, lost for a moment in the memories. 

Hagrid, bustling in the corner, set down a plate of scones. “Ah, you lot were a handful, that’s fer sure,” he said with a broad grin. “Dumbledore would look th’ other way, but McGonagall… well, she had a look on her that could freeze a mountain troll, and that’s sayin’ somethin’!”

Sirius grinned. “Oh, Minnie. I swear, every time she confiscated a dungbomb, she’d keep it somewhere she knew we could find it. I think she had a soft spot for us Marauders.”

Remus laughed, shaking his head. “Sirius, you’re absurd. McGonagall was horrified.”

“Only mildly,” the dog animagus winked. “In a fond sort of way.”

Hagrid chuckled, balancing a teacup on his hand. “She might not admit it, but she loves ye, all four of ye, like her own. And yeh sure gave her a lot o’ gray hairs in return.”

The younger man sighed, looking into his tea with a fond smile. “Those were good days,” he murmured, quieter now. “Before… well, everything.”

“Moony, you dramatic fuck, Prongs and Red are outside with Harry and Wormtail and Reggie. What are you talking about?”

“Sorry. Sometimes that nightmare I had a few Halloweens ago just- comes back. It always feels too real, y’know?” Remus sighed, rubbing his eyes.

There was a beat of silence before Sirius sat up straight. “Oh! The one where I went to Azkaban? And Harry was orphaned and Peter betrayed us all? And Alice and Frank went insane?”

“Yep, that’s the one.”

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 19]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 3.6k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

Frank, admittedly, isn’t as fit as he used to be. 

Running through the desert, carrying all his gear, used to be an everyday thing he could do no problem, but now, running through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, he finds his breathing to be a bit labored. 

Then again, that might be because he’s pissed off. He, Jones, and Red were in the middle of setting up for a night of surveillance, something Red insisted they do, when the costumed idiot took off into the night without a word.

Normally, Red will give them the damn courtesy of letting them know before he disappears to protect his flock, so him just starting to bolt had Frank and Jones scooping up their shit and following. 

One thing Frank’s learned while working with Matt Murdock is to trust the bastard when it comes to his senses - when he says they need to clear out, there is usually a damn good reason to start running. But he has always given a reason or a head’s up - taking off like this must mean something is going down.

Jones gave up trying to keep pace a few blocks back, but Frank is determined to find out what the hell is going on. Red has the advantage of not hauling an additional fifty pounds of gear, and he has taken to parkouring over the roofs, so has gotten about a block and a half ahead. 

Frank can keep him in his sights, at least. He’s making a bee-line right towards Chelsea and that’s causing a pit to start to grow in the Marine’s stomach. Not many things override Red’s deep seeded commitment to his city and only one of those things resides outside Hell’s Kitchen. 

He adjusts his grip on his bag and forces his legs to move faster.  

The buildings around him shift from businesses to residential and about two blocks into the change, Frank knows what set the Devil off. 

His little girl is in the middle of the sidewalk, crying hysterically as her mother struggles on the ground against some fat fuck in a business suit. Frank only sees the attacker for a brief second before fury incarnate grabs him by his thick neck and slams him into the ground by Mom’s feet. The sound of a skull being cracked rings clear before it's covered by angry roars and the crunch and squelch of someone’s face being pounded in. 

By the Grace of all that is Holy, Red’s baby seems to not care her dad is about to kill a guy and scurries to her Mommy now that she is free. Frank kicks his ass into gear to get there before she can be traumatized anymore. 

He doesn’t know if the little girl recognizes him or not, but she doesn’t fight it when Frank picks her up. She clings to him desperately, burying her face against his neck and just sobbing. Instincts he forgot he had kick in and Frank bundles Minnie up in his duster, rocking her and trying to soothe her the best he can.

“Hey, hey, sweet girl, it's okay, it's okay. I gotcha. Everything’s gonna be okay, I gotcha.”

Frank cups the back of her head, careful to not tangle his fingers up in her curls and turns her away from her bloody mother. He needs to check on you, to make sure your wounds are something he can handle, and they don’t need to take you to the hospital, but he can’t do that with a crying toddler in his arms. 

“He hurt my Mommy!” The baby wails and his heart just about breaks. He wants so badly to join Red in stomping the piece of shit’s head into the pavement for endangering such a precious child, but he knows he can’t. She can’t witness any more than she already has. 

As often as Frank takes digs at Murdock for being an altar boy, he can’t let Red’s daughter see him lose control and step over the line he swore to never cross. He’d never forgive himself for causing that trauma for her. So, he hugs the little girl closer, kisses the top of her head, then grunts, “Red!”

Murdock stills mid-punch, his bloody fist raised and ready to continue his punishment. He looks feral - he is snarling, and gore has splashed up onto his face. He is shaking with rage and for a brief moment, Frank can see why he claims to have the Devil in him. Then, just as his little girl cries for her Mom again, control returns to him. Red tilts his head in a way Frank knows he heard something, then he pushes himself up into standing. 

Red rips his gloves off, throwing them to the ground, before taking the few steps to clear the gap between him and Frank. He barely starts to rasp out his daughter’s name before she’s turning in Frank’s arms and trying to throw herself to him, sobbing.

“DADDY!”

The noise Red makes is not at all human as he crushes his baby girl to his chest. A new round of loud tears start and Frank knows he has to work quickly before they start attracting attention. 

He pulls his duster off and throws it around Red’s shoulders, trying to hide his garish costume. Murdock seems to realize what he’s doing - he curls into it while ducking his horn-head and moving towards the shadows as he comforts his daughter. Frank can’t hear what he’s saying - his voice is low and the crying covers it - but honestly he doesn’t care.

He turns his attention back to your limp body on the ground, dropping down and letting his knowledge of field medicine take over.

Your forehead is bleeding pretty bad, but a quick assessment of the wound tells him it looks worse than it really is. You’ve got a pretty good gash, but it is shallow, and he doesn’t feel any bone breakage under it or swelling. You’ll need a few stitches, and a hell of a lot of ibuprofen, but you won’t need a hospital. You probably passed out from a combination of pain and exhaustion from an adrenaline rush. 

Still, Frank checks your neck before deciding to move you, just to make sure it's safe. 

As he starts to press his fingers along your spine, Jones finally makes her appearance, jogging up to the scene. 

“What the fuck?”

Frank barely looks up as he growls out his reply, focusing on his work while formulating a plan in his head, “It’s his kid.”

“Oh shit,” she replies, then after a beat, “Is he dead?”

Frank barely looks over to the beaten man in question - his chest is still rising and falling so that’s good enough for him. “Nah, not yet. Call it in - then meet us up in her apartment.” 

He rattles off the address and apartment number as he scoops you up into a fireman’s carry. He’s glad he doesn’t have far to go, because your weight, plus his gear, isn’t doing any favors to his back. As he gets you situated, Jones steps over to the attacker and nudges him in the side with her boot. His face isn’t recognizable as human, but that isn’t what she comments on. 

“What is that smell? Did he shit himself?”

“Fuck if I know, just call it in,” Frank grunts as he begins to trudge towards the right building. “Red, let's go!”

He knows he doesn’t have to explain the plan to Murdock - fucker heard him the first time. Red falls in line and by some miracle, his little girl’s crying has tampered down. She’s still crying - Frank would be more concerned if she wasn’t - but she’s tucked herself close to her Dad and seems to be just more upset than actively terrified. Frank’s got no idea what Murdock could have possibly done to soothe her, but he gives him props for doing it so damn fast. 

He can hear Jones calling for an ambulance as they enter into your building, and once in the lobby, Frank wastes no time barking another order, “Take off your helmet.” 

That earns him a glare, or what counts as a glare from the Devil, and Murdock uses one hand to pull his cowl off and stuffs it between his chest and his daughter before starting for the stairs. Frank is right at his heel and being so close means he can finally hear what Red is repeating to his girl. 

“Just listen to her heart, baby, everything’s okay. You know that sound. Just listen to her heart.”

Frank has a good guess what that means - his theory about passing out from exhaustion and pain is probably correct. If your heart isn’t in crazy panic ‘I’m dying’ mode, you should be fine after a good night’s rest. 

The only problem they encounter in the climb up to your apartment is your door. They have to do a weird song-and-dance of Frank turning so Red can get into your purse to get keys while also making sure Minnie can’t see your face. He hasn’t gotten the chance to clean you up in any way and he’s not going to let any little girl see her mom like that if he can help it. 

Once they are inside the apartment, Frank goes right to the couch to lay you out. As he does, he says over his shoulder, “I’m gonna call Curt.” 

Just because you don’t need a hospital doesn’t mean you shouldn’t see a medical professional. Frank knows what he is doing, but he does not trust himself to stitch up your face. Someone with delicate hands needs to do that, and the best person he knows for that is Curt. 

Murdock, however, disagrees. 

“Call Claire,” he counters firmly. 

Frank knows better than to argue - this is Murdock’s family and Frank ain’t got a dog in this fight. So, once you are down, and his gear is dropped, he fishes out his phone to call the feisty nurse. As he does, Red starts back towards what Frank assumes is the bedroom, talking in a sweet tone to his little girl, “It's okay, Frank’s gonna clean Mommy up, then we can go see her. She’s just got a scrape, everything’s okay.”

Frank focuses on his task at hand - as the line rings, he raids the kitchen for washcloths, bowls, and paper towels. He’s on his way back to the couch when Claire finally answers.

“What did he do this time?”

A little smile forms on his lips at her bluntness - he’s always liked Claire and her no-nonsense attitude. 

“Ain’t him. His girl got mugged, hit her head pretty good,” he explains, as he dips a washcloth into the water to start on cleaning you up. The cut on your forehead is still bleeding, but only a little by this point. He’ll have to retrace their steps to wipe away any blood droplets, so they don't leave a trail right to your door.

“So, take her to the ER.”

He hums at the response, then adds the crucial element, “His little girl saw it all.”

The line is silent for a good five seconds before Claire is swearing, “I’m on my way. How bad are we talking?”

He feels a little for the nurse at the moment - she’s always having to deal with Red broken and battered and is probably thinking she’s going to have to do some sort of impromptu surgery. He gives a rundown on your injuries, then adds, “Your stitches are nicer than mine.” 

“Exactly what a lady wants to hear. How’s the kid?” 

“Physically ok, but probably going to have nightmares for a while,” is his honest reply. There wouldn’t be an attacker left to pick up in an ambulance if Minnie had gotten hurt - he would have made sure of that no matter what Red would have said.

Claire groans in response, “I don’t know anything about child psychology, Frank.” 

“No one’s expecting you to.”

The nurse may be a miracle worker in the eyes of Red’s little vigilante group, but no one in this world is qualified to deal with all their mental problems.

“Give me ten minutes and I’ll be there. You’re lucky I’m on this side of town already.” 

Claire hangs up on him and Franks stuffs his phone back into his pocket. He’ll need to call Mirco later to set up a camera on your building, something similar to what he’s got for Karen, and arrange for some background checks on the neighbors. The area seems to be working class just trying to get by, but isn’t that just all of the city now? Even if one drunk-off-his-ass guy just made some stupid decision, it put you and the kid in danger and that is a no-go in Frank’s book. As much Red will huff and puff and growl, his family falls under Frank’s sphere of protection and that isn’t something Frank skimps on. 

So, a full security upgrade is in your near future. 

But that is something he’ll figure out the details for later on. Right now, he puts his full attention in cleaning you up. 

The worst of it is the cut on your forehead. He folds a washcloth and sets it on the wound to help the remaining bleeding stop, then moves onto your cheeks. You’ve got some gravel stuck there, but he doesn’t see any glass or metal. There’s some bruising, but he doesn’t think it will be anything to fuss about - it will fade away within a day or so. He’s seen worse coloring on a hickey. The bastard who attacked you didn’t seem like he knew what he was doing, or he was too sloshed out of his mind to be coordinated.

 Overall, you are just pretty banged up. 

But nonetheless, Frank takes care to make sure it just looks like you are resting, even putting the throw blanket left on the couch over you to hide the grime stains on your clothes. 

Red and his creepy bat ears must be listening, because as soon as he goes to dump the bloody cleaning water, he’s coming out of the bedroom with Minnie. She’s still in his arms, clinging to his neck like a koala, but her tears have stopped. She’s still sniffling, though.

Frank hangs back as the little girl is brought to her Mommy and his heart damn near breaks again when she starts talking. 

“She’s just sleeping?” 

“She’s just sleeping,” Red confirms. He carefully kneels down beside you and makes slow, exaggerated movements as he puts his hand over your heart. “You can feel, too. Just sleeping.”

He watches as the tiny little girl untangles herself from her father and stretches to put her hand next to his. She scrunches up her nose and gets a look Frank has seen a million times on Red. 

“Boom. Boom. Boom.”

“Exactly, boom. Boom. boom. The same heart-noises Mommy makes when she sleeps.” 

They stay like that for a few seconds before little hands go up to your face and Minnie is examining your cuts.

“He hurt Mommy,” she says so softly that Frank wants to stomp back downstairs and unload his Glock into the asshole. “She has ouchies.” She turns so quickly in Red’s arm that Frank sees him jump just a little - probably still on high alert - and she slaps both her hands on his cheeks, “You have to kissy it better.”

Her voice is so serious and demanding, he’s surprised Red doesn’t instantly comply. Instead, he kisses his little one’s forehead. 

“A doctor is going to come and make sure all her ouchies are taken care of. Then we can kiss it better.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Her curls bounce as the little girl whips around to address Frank, ordering in the same voice, “You have to kissy it better, too.”

He damn well knows better than to argue with a three year old girl - Lisa could put him in his place like no one's business - so Frank simply nods with a, “Yes, ma’am.” Red doesn't look thrilled at the agreement, but he's not the one who's opinion Frank cares about.

Her brown eyes sus him out, narrowing a fraction before he passes whatever criteria she has and Minnie turns back to her mother and father. “When is she gonna wake up?”

“She'll wake up when she's done resting,” Murdock gently advises. “She needs lots of rest right now.” 

Frank knows what question is coming before it is even asked. It is the universal toddler question. 

“Why?”

Red, it seems, needs to spend more time with his kid because he looks completely baffled by the question. He repeats the word, which just gets parroted back at him, and Frank can practically hear Lisa and Frankie chanting along with her. 

Why? 

Why? 

Why?

Why would you need lots of rest in a way a terrified toddler would get it? There's a slight hint of panic in Red’s sightless eyes as he fights to find an answer and Frank takes pity on him. 

He steps forward and asks the little girl, “Have you ever played really hard then needed a nap after?”

Attention swings back to him but this time he is prepared for it. Minnie considers his question, then nods, and Frank gives her a soft, friendly smile. “Same thing, sweetheart. Your Mommy’s body worked really hard and now she needs a nap.” 

“She needs a nap,” the baby replies and then, to his amusement, proceeds to stuff her fingers into her mouth and suck on them. He's got no idea what that means, but Red’s shoulders relax a fraction, so he assumes it's a good thing. 

He wonders if she's starting to get tired now that the action is over. He can't imagine why they were out in the first place, but he has to guess it was to get something from the store. That is his experience with bringing a baby in their pajamas out at night - there was something needed that couldn't wait until morning. That would also explain the black bag in your purse.

He looks to Red and his girl - Murdock has sat himself on the floor beside the couch, facing you, and Minnie is tucked in his lap, sucking her fingers still. Both of their focus seems to be on you. So, Frank lets curiosity get the better of him and he goes to snoop. 

There’s a bottle of Pedialyte nestled inside the bag, and by the tiny bit missing, he has a feeling he knows who it is for. He looks from it, over to the sweet child sitting in Red’s lap, and decides she probably still needs it if her mom went out in the middle of the night for it. So, he turns his snooping to the kitchen and opens and closes cabinets until he finds the one holding sippy cups. All of them have Braille labels on them and he briefly wonders what each says before grabbing one with Big Bird on it. He gives it a good rinse before filling it up halfway with the blue liquid.

He removes his tactical vest before he heads back to the living room. He thinks of it more of a sign for Red than Minnie. The little girl might be scared of the skull art, but he hopes it will help Murdock relax. He’s putting on a good face for his daughter, but Frank can see the tension in his jaw and how on edge and angry he must be, and he can’t be blamed. He knows how emotional Red can get and he’s surprised he’s managing to keep it together - so subtly letting him know ‘there’s no danger here’ and Frank isn’t a threat to his family might just get him to stop grinding his teeth. 

He approaches slowly and somewhat loudly, while holding out the sippy cup, “Here you go, sweetie.”

Minnie blinks up at him with those wide brown eyes and he can see the exhaustion starting to creep in - getting a bottle might just knock her out. He has to lean down so she can take it, but as soon as she does, her hand drops from her mouth and she politely mumbles, “Thank you.” 

“You’re very welcome, sweetheart.”

“What is it?” Murdock questions, nose twitching to try to figure out the smell. Frank doubts he’s familiar with the drink, but soon he’ll have it memorized.

“Blue Pedi-lyte,” the baby grumbles before the spout goes right into her mouth and she starts to nurse it. Almost instantly she starts leaning back against Red’s chest and Frank knows right away she’ll be asleep within minutes. 

He checks his phone as he goes to take a seat at the kitchen table. Claire should be here any minute and it's a toss up if Jones comes up or not. He’ll wait until everything is all settled to head out - he does want to make sure you are okay and he’s not going to leave Claire alone with an upset kid and her Dad-devil. 

Frank brings up his texts to Karen to start typing out that the op is a bust, when Murdock’s quiet voice interrupts his train of thought.

“Thank you, Frank.”

“Nothing to thank me for, Red. It’s your family. You don’t gotta explain that to me.”

“Still, thank you, Frank. I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Murdock.”

---

a/n: frank has entered the chat and assumed Alpha Dad role. his family now.

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath 

 @allllium

@anehkael

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@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

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@

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@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @nommingonfood @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 

@

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@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

[secretlocket]

chris and sunshine!reader cross paths for the first time.

the sun beamed brightly over disneyland, adding on to the theme park’s cheery atmosphere. the air buzzed with laughter and the scent of churros.

you had pulled off the ultimate surprise for the three girls you babysit from time to time, bringing them to the happiest place on earth a week before school started, the perfect way to wrap up their summer vacation. their excitement was contagious, especially elise, the youngest sister, who gasped loudly and tugged on your hand at nearly everything she saw.

you smiled as you took note of the wide grins on the girls’ faces, feeling a burst of sentiment and happiness seeing them enjoy themselves.

there’s fifteen year old rae, the eldest, had been the hardest to win over. at first, she’d been skeptical of your relentless positivity, brushing off your efforts with curt nods and the occasional eye roll. but time and consistency had changed that. you never pushed too hard, never pried, but you always showed up—whether it was helping rae study for her history test or sitting with her during a rough day. slowly, her walls began to come down. she started opening up, laughing at your jokes, even seeking your advice when life felt overwhelming.

and ten year old willow who’s the opposite. a quiet, creative soul, she’d clung to you almost immediately, drawn to your warm, sunny energy. willow loved to draw, often sketching little pictures to give to you as thank you gifts. she has a thoughtful, observant nature, always looking out for her sisters and sometimes even for you, despite her young age.

and of course, elise, the five year old firecracker. energetic, curious, and endlessly talkative, she’s the heart of the group, always keeping everyone on their toes. elise adores you unconditionally, often declaring, “you’re the bestest babysitter we’ve ever had!” before skipping off to her next adventure. her excitement for life is pretty contagious, and her laugh could brighten even the dreariest days.

“alright girls, one more ride before lunch,” you said, holding up the park map and glancing at the three sisters. “what’re we thinkin’? tea cups? maybe pirates of the caribbean?”

“i’m fine with whatever,” rae said nonchalantly, though her eyes flicked toward the matterhorn before darting down back to her phone screen.

“tea cups are cool,” willow offered, adjusting her minnie ears. “but i kinda wanna go on the peter pan one.”

“let’s go on the merry go round!” elise exclaimed, spinning around dramatically before latching onto you leg. “it’s right there!”

you laughed, already accustomed to the kindergartener’s bursts of enthusiasm, and opened her mouth to respond when she suddenly gasped.

“MINNIE MOUSE!”

her shout turned a few heads, but elise didn’t care. her wide eyes were locked on the minnie figure, who was strolling just ahead, waving to parkgoers and posing for photos. “we have to take a picture! all of us!” elise declared, tugging on your hand with a force that nearly pulled her off balance.

as you and the girls gathered the photo with the mouse, a sudden realization hit you—you hadn’t thought about needing someone to actually take the picture. you looked around, a little frantic, trying to spot anyone who might be willing to help. elise, bouncing on the spot, tugged at you arm.

“come on, y/n, let’s hurry! minnie’s going to leave any second!” she squealed, her wide eyes never leaving the character.

willow looked around, trying to scan the crowd for anyone free. rae, clearly growing frustrated, let out a sigh. “i swear, something is always happening,” she muttered, crossing her arms and looking at the ground in annoyance.

ignoring the teen’s pessimism, you looked around again. it seemed like everyone was either already in a group or too busy to help. “okay girls, we’re going to have to ask someone…” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

rae rolled her eyes. “yeah, obviously,” she grumbled.

just as the tension in the group started to rise, a voice cut through the noise of the park. “—i can help you guys if you want?”

you whipped around, surprised to hear someone offering so casually. standing there was a boy who looked around your age; messy brunette hair and blue eyes, sporting casual denim shorts and a graphic tee: his stance was pretty friendly, and to the side of him was two other boys who mirrored his exact features—triplets. you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t find them to be cute, especially the one that offered to help.

you smiled back, relieved. “oh—yeah! thank you, that’d mean so much to us.”

you handed him your phone without a second thought, but the moment your hands brushed, you felt an unexpected jolt shoot up your arm. your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly pulled your hand away, hoping he hadn’t noticed your flustered move.

focus, focus, you told yourself, trying to keep it together, but your mind was still on how cute he was.

rae, who had been watching the entire exchange with a keen eye, suddenly froze. her gaze flickered between you and the guy in front of them. “wait,” she said, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “t-that’s chris sturniolo! oh my god, the sturniolo triplets are literally here right now…”

willow, confused, scrunched her face up as if she popped a sour patch kid into her mouth. “who?”

rae’s eyes widened in disbelief. she immediately tried to play it cool, but the flush creeping up her neck gave her away. “it’s nothing, just—he’s, um, popular on youtube and tiktok. the sturniolo triplets. you know, from the videos i watch?”

as chris lined up the shot, his easygoing yet friendly demeanor only made your heart race a little more. there was something effortlessly attractive about him, the way he was engaging with the girls, making them laugh. he was down to earth, but still had that pull that made her feel a little flustered.

chris snapped the photo, then turned back to you, handing her the phone with a smile. “got it. took three just in case.”

you took the phone, smiling in return. “thanks so much,” you said, the words coming out a little more breathless than she expected.

“s’no problem at all, you guys enjoy the rest of your day!” he waved before turning to walk off with his brothers.

you stood there, your pulse still a little elevated from the brief interaction. the girls were already excitedly looking at the picture on your phone, but you found yourself glancing back at chris, who’s gaze lingered on you one last time as he walked away.

something about him stuck with you. and you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d get another chance to talk to him.

messages from brie 🗯️ : was listening to espresso while writing this up, i don’t think i’ll ever get tired of that song 🙂‍↔️

also, gonna be serious for a second: if you don’t give credit—whether it’s for my about me layout or moodboard layout, i will block you and i will block you fast. i already have two blogs on here blocked for copying my layouts without permission. & if you’re take inspiration from my ideas, aus and all, at least switch it up a bit. i’m not saying this to be rude but cmonnnn.

✷ tags : @et6rnalsun @eternaldecisions @freshloveee @lov3bug @cosmicanakin @cupiidk1lls @marrykisskilled @lovevxle

[ssahotchnerr]

Hello! Can i request Dad!Aaron going shopping with his baby daughter at Disneyworld, pretty please? And like she keep running around to see everything so he has to pick her up? Please. Thank you!!!! 🫂💗

making memories

aaron and disney two of my fav things <3 cw; girl dad!aaron, fem!reader, fluff

the second the parade ended and aaron had set the littlest hotchner down onto the sidewalk, did she run into the nearest merchandise shop located directly behind.

you and aaron exchanged a quick look - a slightly alarmed, a slightly amused, and a slightly tired one. the two of you were struggling to keep with with the kids a tad, who's energy hadn't yet to falter, surprisingly. you all have been up since six to enter the park right at rope drop - no nap, minimal breaks throughout the day. it's been the most special, happy one, but an exhausted, heat-related meltdown was a guarantee at some point, the two of you were sure.

while you continued your action of helping jack reapply some sunscreen, the heat of the day blaring down harshly onto main street, aaron trekked after your daughter.

"you know better than to run off, sweetheart." aaron lectured gently as he caught up, thanking the stars above he did happen to be looking as she did. given, he had been keeping a close eye on her all day with the large, ever-growing crowd. keeping her in the stroller helped, you and aaron took turns carrying her from time to time, but you could never be too careful.

"look!" her little voice squeaked out excitedly, the brightest of smiles on her face as she gazed up at him. she pointed, her feet lifting in the tiniest of jumps. "minnie ears! can i pleaseee get one daddy?"

how could he possibly say no to her? and, when in disney world...

"okay." aaron grinned, already fond of the family pictures that were soon to come, "but, only if you pick out a pair for jack and mom too."

"and you!" she nodded frantically, already busying herself by pulling ears off the rack. "i want pink. and mommy likes princess belle, so we can get her the yellow ones. jackers..." she paused, her tiny eyebrows furrowing as she thought - looking like an exact replica of her father. "these! just plain black. i don't think he wants princess."

"i think you're right."

"what kind do you want?" her bright brown eyes found his, struggling a bit to hold onto the three pairs of ears in her small hands.

"how about..." aaron thought quickly, not too keen on wearing ears, per se. "would a baseball hat work? with a mickey on it?"

"okay." she agreed, a look of satisfaction forming on her face as she repeated after him, leading him to the hats. "with a mickey on it."

[bunnywonyo]

HEAR ME OUT ‼️‼️‼️ BUT WHAT IF.. SNOW WHITE & THE SEVEN DWARFS EXCEPT IT'S A HAREM TYPE SITUATION (READER BEING SNOW WHITE)???? LIKE.. PUT THE MOMMIEST KPOP IDOLS THERE WE GONNA SEE KARINA, WONY, SANA, ETC. ?????? IT'S SEEMS PRETTY BIG FOR A SINGLE FIC BUT IDKKK

SNOW WHITE AND HER SEVEN EIGHT MOMMIES??

g!p karina, g!p wonyoung, g!p sana, g!p sakura, g!p rosé, g!p minnie, g!p yeji x innocent snow white! reader x secret bonus g!p celebrity (what a mouthful)

synopsis: after running away from the evil queen for something you overheard, you found shelter in a house shared with not one, not two, but seven attractive women who all happen to have the hots for you

word count: 10.2k

tags: smut, g!p, somnophilia, choking, spanking, double penetration, may get ooc sorry, lmk if i missed some

a/n: i'm terribly sorry if this took too long college bit my ass, but please do enjoy even if this is shitty

your legs have started hurting from all the running. how long have you been running? hours probably. far too long than what your weak legs could handle. but you had to keep running. you need to get as far away from the castle as possible. far from the evil queen. but did you run far enough? hopefully yes.

taking a break from all that running, you spot a house by a lake hidden behind the thick covers of the forest. it was your only chance of surviving this forest so you decided to try your luck and ask the house’s owner if you could stay there. 

knocking at the door, you waited for any response. receiving none, you noticed that the door was slightly open. after some internal dilemma, you decide to just enter hoping the owner was nice enough to forgive you for trespassing into their property.

the first thing you noticed when you set foot inside was how dirty and disorganized everything was. the sink was filled with unwashed dishes, there were food crumbs everywhere, the dining room table had chairs all over the place, and clothes littered the couch. you shuddered in disgust before a bright idea concocted in your brain. you were gonna clean this whole house to show the owner of this house that you would be a helpful addition. you grabbed a broom and dustpan that were leaning by the front door and started cleaning

after hours of cleaning, you found out that seven people lived here based from the disorganized items in this house mostly being seven. seven pairs of fork and spoon, seven plates, seven disorganized chairs. while cleaning the second floor of the house, you also found seven bedrooms, each with signs on the door that showed the owners’ name. wonyoung, karina, sana, sakura, rosé, minnie and yeji they read. 

suddenly feeling drowsy, you headed downstairs, deciding to sleep on the couch. (you’ve already trespassed, you wouldn't want to worsen your possible friendship with the owners now won’t you?) laying down, you felt your eyes getting heavy, so you let go all the tension in your body and started to drift off to dreamland.

after what seemed like hours, you could hear whispers. naturally, this woke you up. stirring, you slowly opened your eyes, blinking away the remnants of sleep. as your vision cleared, you realized you were not alone. seven pairs of eyes were fixed on you, each pair belonging to a remarkably beautiful girl. they stared at you, a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and something else in their expressions. you quickly sat up, feeling your cheeks flush under their collective gaze.

"i'm so sorry for intruding," you began, your voice trembling slightly. "i was running away and found your house. i didn't mean to trespass, i just... i needed a place to stay."

the girls exchanged glances before a tall girl with a mole above right cheek stepped forward. "you cleaned our house?" she asked, her voice soft but firm. there was something familiar about her, like she reminded you of someone

you nodded, feeling a bit self-conscious. "yes, i thought it might help. i wanted to show you that i could be useful if you let me stay."

another girl stepped closer, her eyes twinkling with amusement and somehow, mischief? "well, you did a pretty good job," she said, looking around the now spotless living room. "it hasn't looked this good in ages."

another tall girl crossed her arms, you noticed a mole below her lips, a smile tugging at her lips. "why were you running?" she asked, her eyes searching yours.

you took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "i was escaping from the evil queen," you explained. “yesterday, while i was cleaning the castle courtyard, i heard her tell her adviser, “i want that y/n girl in my special room by tonight.” the girls gasp, but sensing that there was more to the story, they let you continue.

“i was really suspicious so i followed the queen around. then before she entered her quarters, i heard her mutter under her breathe, “finally, after all these years i can finally take her” when i heard that, i panicked and ran away from the castle until i ended up here” you continued, “i didn’t know what she was gonna do to me, if only i knew i would’ve never worked there” you innocently finished.

when you finished your story, something shifted with the girls. their expressions, already intrigued, took on a darker edge, a subtle heat in their eyes. they exchanged another series of glances, this time laden with a silence. you didn’t notice, too naive and too caught up in your own story, but their gazes lingered on you a little longer, their thoughts clearly taking a different, more intimate darker direction.

a blonde girl stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, her touch lingering just a bit too long. “you’re safe here,” she said, her voice soothing but with an undercurrent you couldn’t quite place. “you can stay with us as long as you need.”

relief washed over you, and you smiled gratefully at them. “thank you, thank you so much.”

still not letting go of your shoulders, she squeezed them gently before letting her hand fall away. "why don't we sit down and get to know each other a bit more?" she suggested, gesturing toward a cozy seating area nearby.

as you all settled into the plush chairs, the atmosphere became more relaxed, the tension from earlier dissipating into the background. you and the girls conversed with each other and that’s when you learned who the names you read upstairs belonged to. they discussed where you would sleep and what tasks you were assigned to do. after a while, it was finally decided that you are going to sleep in the attic and cleaning the house was your job. soon, night arrived and after eating the dishes sakura cooked(10/10 would eat again) and tidying up the kitchen, you all went to bed. you sighed in content as your body relaxed against the soft cover of the bed. you were really happy, not only did you escape from the clutches of the evil queen, you also gained seven attractive friends! (very attractive if i say so myself). as you pondered with your thoughts, you could slowly feel your eyes getting heavy. you yawned and let your mind wander into dreamland. 

minutes passed by and you were already in deep sleep. so deep that you never hear the door to your room open as a figure enters. 

you were awakened minutes later by the sensation of something entering inside you and a body on top of yours thrusting. you tried screaming for help but the person saw this and covered your mouth. tears welled up in your eyes as the pain spread all over your body. your tried to fight back but they were so strong that your futile attempts only made the already creaking bed creak harder. 

“shh y/n” you recognized that voice, “you wouldn’t want the others to see how much of a slut you are now won’t you?”

you looked up to your perpetrator and what you saw drained the life out of your face. the person forcing themselves onto you was none other than sana!

sana noticed the shock in your face before she giggled and leaned closer into you. 

“surprised? sorry honey i couldn’t help myself.” she whispered “but i’m serious, you better shut that pretty mouth of yours before you wake everyone up” you replied but since sana’s hand was covering your mouth, it came out muffled. removing her hand from your mouth, you spat “why? are you afraid cuz you know that the moment they wake them up and see this they’ll do something to you?” while glaring at her.

this ticked sana off before she dropped a truth bomb to you “afraid? oh honey, the one who should be afraid is you” she grinned. “the moment the other girls wake up, they won’t be able to control themselves. the truth is, the moment we saw you, we all wanted you. i just happen to fuck you first. i just want to savor you first.”

panting, you retort “you’re lying! you’re only saying that to trick me! you’re nothing but –ah!” sana’s harsh thrust cuts you off. “shh shh shh, less talking, more moaning.” you shook your in response and bit your lip. 

“don’t hide your moans, i know you want this too” you denied this by shaking you head. this response caused sana to tighten her grip on you waist and thrust even harder. 

one of her hands snaked in between your thighs, her fingers trying to find your sensitive bundle of nerves. when she found them, she abused the hell out of them. this action caused you to roll your eyes in pleasure and let out a loud moan. sana smirked at your response, rubbing harder.

“lying little slut acting like you don’t want this but here you are moaning like a whore”

you couldn’t handle it any longer, tired and weary, you finally stopped resisting and fully submitting to sana. your whines and moans soon filled the room. sana delighted with your submission and you with your head way up in cloud nine, both failed to notice the two pair of eyes by your door, watching your every move. 

“ahh mommy! s-something’s happening” you cried out, “my tummy feels weird”

sana smirked at the nickname before giggling “sweetheart that’s called cumming. that’ll make you feel really good” she then groaned “i feel like im gonna cum soon too”

“im gonna cum inside you ok? gonna feel your insides with my seed, gonna paint you insides white”

“y-yes please ahhh f-feel so good mommy” “fuck here it comes baby” her hips thrust for one final time. this being her deepest thrust inside you, all in effort for her cum to fully reach deep inside you. the feeling of her cum inside you caused you to also go over the edge.

legs shaking, sana pulls out her cock from inside you. she sees your juices mixed and flowing out of your pussy. sana groans at the sight before plopping on beside you, one arm slung around your waist.

“that felt good baby?”

as much as you wanted to lie, you couldn’t. even if sana forced herself onto you, you can’t deny that what she did somehow removed stress out of you.

too shy to admit it, you muzzled your face onto her neck and nodded. sana ruffled your hair before yawning. both of you shuffled on bed to get comfortable, ready to sleep the night away. well that was the original plan before someone spoke.

“that was it?” a voice asked, breaking the silence in the room. this caused you and sana to sit up from the surprise. “that was kinda boring right minnie?”

“really short if you ask me, and really sana? one round and you’re done? i’m so glad rosie brought me here” minnie tsked causing sana to blush.

“why don’t minnie and i teach you how to properly feel good, what'd you say y/n?”

although tired and dazed, you were curious. ‘what exactly did they mean by properly?’ you thought. apparently, your curiosity was written all over your face because the two started snickering. they both went on each of your side, stripping off their clothes on their way, their hot breaths lingering in your ears.

rosé turned to sana, “why don’t you be a dear and sit by that chair? you’re free to watch or go back to your room.” she spoke. sana grumbled before picking up her discarded clothes and heading to the chair, one hand wrapped on her dick.

“ew you’re gonna jerk off watching us?” minnie bemused. “what? i bet you were doing that a while ago too!” sana spat back. rosé rolled her eyes, pushing you to lean against minnie before also leaning closer. you blush at being sandwiched by two attractive women.

rosé grabbed your chin, your lips meeting hers. you moaned at the feeling of her soft lips against yours, which she immediately took advantage of. darting her tongue inside your mouth. minnie on the other hand, busied herself with your breasts and your neck. fumbling your mounds like there’s no tomorrow while sucking and nipping on your neck. eventually, they got tired of all the foreplay. even sana was getting bored, evident in her groans in the background.

the three of you changed your position resulting to you straddling rosé while minnie was behind you. you gasped at the the feeling of their dicks rubbing against your nether regions. 

“i–i’ve never tried taking two at once before….” you whined hiding your face on rosé’s neck

“don’t worry baby, rosie and i promise to be gentle” to which rosé nodded in agreement.

you took deep breathes before nodding in submission to them. seeing your response, their eyes twinkle before plunging their dicks inside you at the same time. your scream at the sensation while the two groaned at your tightness. it felt so painful, like your were being ripped in half. the pain was overwhelming but so was the lingering pleasure that was starting to build up. the girls started thrusting until they reached a pace they were comfortable with. 

soon, your pained gasps turned into pleasured moans. hearing this, the two started getting rough. they started thrusting harder while their hands lingered all over your body. rosé fondled with your breasts while minnie snaked one of her hands, searching for your sensitive bundle of nerves. once her hand reached its destination, she was merciless. she rubbed so hard you started twitching from the sensation.

“ahhh minnie feels so good~” you moaned, “rosie, minnie mommies –ahh– faster please” you pleaded.

“you like that y/nnie? you like taking dicks abusing your holes?” rosé asked, amused at how helpless you looked.

you aggressively nodded in response, yelping when she suddenly smacked one of your buttcheeks. “shit do that again please” you pleaded. 

rosé smirks at your reaction before sending a barrage of alternating smacks between your buttcheeks. two dicks inside you, minnie stimulating your clit and rosé smacking your ass caused your brain to be overwhelmed your back arching. the two groaned at the sight.

sana, who has been quietly jerking herself by the chair also groaned before standing up, walking towards you, hands still jerking herself. she positioned herself near your head before grabbing the base of her dick, aiming it to your mouth.

“open up” she grunted. although dazed from pleasure, you managed to process what she asked for. you opened your mouth, taking her member in. sana groaned before starting to thrust in your mouth. tears ran down your cheeks from all the pleasure you were receiving. 

this continued more until suddenly, you felt it again. the knot in your stomach was starting to form making you whine more on sana’s dick. the three noticed this, based on how they all suddenly started thrusting harder onto you.

“fuck–you’re cumming baby? could feel you getting tighter.” minnie grunted, her thrusts starting to reach an uneven pace. she was close too; you could feel it, and so were the other girls.

“shit baby im cumming, you’re gonna take it all right? gonna keep my seed deep inside you like a good girl.” rosé hissed before releasing her load this caused to be over the edge and cumming too. your holes tightened causing a domino effect of minnie and sana also cumming.

the four of you layed there for awhile before they all pulled away. sweat running down your faces as you tried to catch your breathe. after awhile, you suddenly spoke up.

“well now that that’s over, im gonna catch some sleep now. it’s up to you guys if u want to return to your rooms or if you want to sleep here with me. good night girls” you announced, ready to sleep for the nth time today.

“sleep? oh baby you think we’re done? we’re just getting started. you won’t be able to sleep a wink tonight” minnie interjected, hands already snaking all over your body. you shivered at the feeling before praying in your mind.

‘lord, have mercy on me tonight.’ you pleaded as the three starting shifting their positions.

the next day, you woke up feeling sore. specially in your nether regions and your mouth. you turn to your left to see the cause of your pain, all tucked together and sleeping like they never gave you those mind boggling orgasms. you rolled your eyes at the sight before grabbing your pillows and started hitting them.

“ow ow y/n? ow!!” yelped sana as she was surprised and confused with your actions while rosé and minnie grumbled, clearly annoyed with getting their sleep disturbed.

you payed no heed to their reactions, “you guys need to get out! i need to fix myself up” you continued hitting them.

though drowsy and annoyed, the three obliged. they, picked up their clothes and got dressed. as they started heading out, rosé turned to you, “you know y/n, kicking us out to get dressed is kinda useless now. cause we’ve already seen everything.” she laughed as she dodged the pillow you threw at her.

you grumbled in annoyance as you tried to stand up and fix the bed. keyword = tried. as soon as you stood up, pain struck your whole body causing you fall flat on the floor. it let out a thud loud enough to send someone running to knock on your door.

“y/nnie?” it was karina, “are you okay? i heard a thud.”

“im fine! i just fell!”

“are you sure? can i come in?”

“rina im butt naked right now.”

“o-oh… i can help you(?)”” “WHAT?!”

despite your protest, karina wanted to see your naked body help you. she took a deep breathe before barging in, one hand covering her eyes but she was obviously peeking.

“RINA!” you squealed before covering your body with a fallen blanket. 

for a while, karina just stood there, mesmerized with how innocent and helpless you look. countless thoughts entered her mind, all of them involving her having her way with you. this lead her to feel a sudden tightness in her lower region. your eyes then trailed to the tent on her crotch causing an idea to pop inside her head. a smirk spread on her face but was quickly replaced by a faux look of distress.

noticing her discomfort and getting concerned, you asked “are you okay rina?” to which she shook her head no.

“it hurts……down there…..” she started whining whilst gesturing to her nether region. “can you help me? please?”

this of course caught you off guard, blood rushing to your cheeks. although flustered with the situation, you wanted to help karina and hey you’ve already experienced pleasuring someone three times last night right? you could say that you were already experienced. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

realizing that you have yet to respond to karina, you again tried to stand up this time succeeding (if standing on wobbly legs was successful at all).

“down there?” you repeated, your voice barely a whisper as you gestured towards karina’s crotch. your cheeks were on fire, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest. this was certainly not what you expected when you woke up this morning.

karina nodded, her eyes wide and filled with a mix of vulnerability and something else you couldn’t quite place. she looked at you with a pleading expression, and you knew you couldn’t just leave her in discomfort. despite your own flustered state, you wanted to help her.

gathering your courage, you reached out and clasped her hands. “alright, i’ll help you,” you said, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. you carefully guided her to the bed, feeling the tension between you both rise.

karina’s internal smirk was hidden behind her innocent facade, but you could sense a shift in her demeanor. she seemed more confident now, her eyes glinting with a spark of mischief.

as you both sat on the edge of the bed, you took a deep breath and leaned closer to her. “just… tell me if i’m doing things right” you murmured, your voice gentle.

karina’s breathe hitched as you positioned yourself between her legs, “i trust you, i know you’ll do great” she replied. 

you nodded back, feeling a rush of determination. you wanted to make her feel better, to ease her discomfort. slowly, you started by palming her erection through her shorts to which she shuddered. you then unzipped them and pulled them down along with her boxers. her cock sprang up, almost hitting your chin in the process. you heard karina let out a sigh of relief while you stared at her member.

it was noticeably throbbing, a sign of how much pain karina was suffering right now. poor baby, if only you knew.

not wanting karina to be in pain for any longer, you quickly went down in business. you wrapped your hands around the rigid member. karina’s eyes fluttered shut, and she bit her lip, trying to suppress the sounds of pleasure that threatened to escape. you leaned in, your lips brushing against her ear. “let me know if you need me to stop,” you whispered, your voice husky.

she shook her head slightly, her grip on your hands tightening. “don’t stop,” she breathed, her voice laced with need.

encouraged by her response, you continued your ministrations, your touch growing bolder. you could feel her body responding to your touch, her tension melting away. 

karina’s breaths were coming in short, sharp bursts now, and hips started thrusting against your hand. you could see the desire in her eyes, and it fueled your own passion.

“y/n baby……….. your mouth” she gasped “i need it” 

although you were caught off guard by her request, you still complied. you opened your mouth to accommodate to her plea. 

karina whimpered as the warm, wet mouth enveloped her throbbing member. it felt so good to have this intimate part of her worshiped in such a lewd manner. the stimulation was overwhelming, and she arched her back in delight. head nearly falling to hit the bed, her upper torso barely being supported by her forearms and elbows against the bed.

she groaned, one of her hands moving to get tangled in your messy hair as they bobbed up and down on her member. the suction increased, and she gasped for breath. the pleasure was intense, making her feel like she was floating on a cloud.

"y/n" she moaned, her voice thick with desire. she felt like she was on the verge of exploding, and she couldn't help but beg for more. "harder, baby," she pleaded. "more." her hips starting to thrust inside your mouth

hearing this, you started sucking harder. you found your hands playing with karina’s balls causing her to cry out in pleasure, her body shuddering as she felt intense waves of pleasure wash over her.

she screamed out in ecstasy, her body shaking with the feeling of her nearing climax.

"i'm gonna cum," she warned, her voice ragged. "don't stop, baby."

you didn't miss a beat, and moments later, karina exploded in a symphony of bliss. her muscles tensed, and her cries of pleasure filled the room. it was a moment of pure, unadulterated pleasure that she would never forget. it was better than those times when she relieved herself.

as the aftershocks of her orgasm faded away, karina collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily. while you, climb on top to lay beside her.

"that was amazing," she breathed, reaching down to stroke your hair. "thank you, baby." as she kissed your forehead.

karina then rolled over, pulling you on top of her. her fingers traced along your back, urging you closer as her lips met yours in a passionate kiss. although caught off guard, you matched her passion. but before you could further continue, a knock was heard on your door. groaning in annoyance you asked who it was. “WELL IF YOU DON’T WANT YOUR BREAKFAST TO GET COLD YOU BETTER GET YOUR ASS DOWN NOW!!” the person yelled back, revealing herself to be minnie.

the mention of breakfast made you realize how hungry you were and apparently you weren’t the only one, judging by how karina’s stomach grumbled. her ears reddened making you laugh at her. “say, let’s eat breakfast now what do you say?” you offered to which karina quickly agreed, nodding quickly you’d think her head will fall off.

you both got up, picked your discarded clothes and fixed yourself and your bed before heading downstairs for breakfast. reaching the kitchen, you saw that everyone was already there and are eating what seems to be sakura’s cooking. the smell caused karina’s already grumbling stomach to further grumble louder making everybody look at her. silence lingered in the room before a snort, then a giggle, then full on laughing was heard all over the room. “HAHAHAHAHA Y/N MUST’VE TIRED RINA OUT FOR HER TO BE THAT HUNGRY!” sana jokes amplifying the laughter. embarrassed, karina fought back “AT LEAST I COULD CONTROL MYSELF AND NOT WAKE THE WHOLE HOUSE UP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!”

this caused sana to gasp but before she could answer back, sakura cut them off “now now, breakfast’s gonna get cold, eat first then you settle things later when you do the laundry” to which they grumbled but still sat down making you also sit down.

“so y/n,” sakura began, “how did you sleep last night? good hopefully minus some nightly visitors.” eyeing three people making them look away.

you blushed at the reminder of last night before bashfully answering “it was nice, i slept great and i appreciated their company last night.” this made the three smirk and sakura to huff. 

you heard someone muttering but chose to ignore it, maybe it wasn’t important right? wonyoung then opened up a topic leading to a breakfast filled with chitchat. you guys divided up today’s task and as expected, yours were to wash the dishes and tidy up the house. you weren’t alone of course, sakura and yeji volunteered to help which you were grateful for. 

soon, everyone was finished with breakfast. prompting them to all stand up and for you to collect the plates and do the dishes while sakura and yeji disappeared in the house gathering the cleaning materials and the rest go out to either collect firewood, hunt for meat or forage carrying with them, the packed lunches that sakura prepared.

as you stood at the sink, warm water flowed over your hands as you scrubbed the final few dishes. the frequent sound of running water and the soft clinking of dishes runs through the silent room. your attention drifts a little, concentrating on finishing the rest of the task.

suddenly, you feel a set of arms gently wrap around your waist, drawing you back in an embracing hold. surprised, you turn to your side to find sakura leaning her head against your shoulder, her breath hot against your ear and her eyes filled with hunger. this made you feel hot on the inside.

“you think this is all just a game don’t you? getting fucked by nearly everyone in this household?” she spat in your ear as her hands found their way to your underwear, toying with your clit. “you’re already this wet? you are a slut aren’t ya.” making you whimper and to lean against her. 

“kkura-ah!” she clamped your mouth before you could catch any unwanted attention. 

“quiet,” she spat. “now bend over for me like the slut that you are.” her words making you feel even hotter. you wordlessy obliged sakura’s demand making her smirk.

as you bent over, her hands ran down your tank top covered back. it was as if her palms were trying to memorize the curves of your back. you felt her hands on the hem of your pajama pants 

as she starts to pull them down along with your panties. your slick making the panty stick to your nether region. sakura bit her lip at the sight before in to give it a long lick. you rolled your eyes at the sensation, even leaning back to be closer to her.

sakura chuckled at you reaction before she stood up and unbuckled her pants and pushing it down along with her boxers. you turned to look at her only to be faced with her throbbing member sitting between you buttcheeks. you blushed at the sight making her grin. leaning over to your ear, she began “im gonna fuck you on this sink until your breasts get imprinted here and everytime someone puts their dishes here, they get reminded of how good i fucked you here.” hands on your waist while humping against you.

then without any warning, she plunged herself inside you. you gasped at the intrusion, feeling how deep she was inside you. sakura grunted at how your walls tightened around her and how warm it was being inside you. she waited a few moments, letting you adjust around her size.

she soon started thrusting making your body press even further against the marbled sink. as moans, whines, gasps and a mix off all came out of your mouth, sakura thrusted harder. she then soon remembered that yeji was still inside the house.

“you’re moaning here like an attention seeking whore. you want yeji to hear you? i bet that riles you up, getting caught whoring aroung, being a whole household’s fuck toy” her taunting was proven when you tightened at her words making her smirk.

“ah— stop saying it like that” you tried to defend yourself.

“but isnt it true baby? i felt you tighten and all” sakura rebutted one hand leaving your waist to smack one of your cheeks, leaving a red hand print.

“it’s embarrassing—ah kkura!— when you say it out loud” you cried as your body responded to her stimulations. tears running down your eyes from the mixture of pleasure and pain as sakura maniacally laughs with bits of groans coming out at times.

this onslaught of moans continued on until you felt the familiar knot in your stomach starting to form. “kkura im close —ah!” you warned her turning to her sweat covered face. 

“hold it,” she grunted, “i know it feels good but i don’t give a fuck, i want you to hold it.” 

this made you whine, your body saying no but you knew better than to disobey sakura. 

“please kkura! i need it.” you pleaded but sakura’s face remained unchanged. the only thing that seemed to change was how her thrust became uneven, a sure sign that she was also near. 

but what you didn’t know was how great sakura was at holding her release. determined to prolonged your pleasurable suffering, she bit her lips as she held her release. minutes passed by and you felt like you could no longer hold yourself any futhwe.

“kkura,” you begged. “i can’t take it anymore, i wanna cum please please please please” sakura groaned, knowing that she also can’t hold it any longer. “just a little more love, i’m near” she thrusted a few more times before finally letting go, her hips shaking as she buried herself deeper inside you seemingly trying to prolong her pleasure. the moment you felt her warm fluid inside, you also let go. eyes rolling to the back of your head, your legs twitching and your mind going blank. sakura pressed her face against your neck, inhaling your post sex scent leaving a trail of soft kisses as she does so. 

a few moments passed and your rapidly beating hearts have finally calmed down. sakura pulls away from you, including her member, leaving you whining at the lost of contact. her eyes trailed down to your nether region, the sight of your mixed fluids making her eyes glimmer as she licked her lips. but it all crumbled down when she heard you groan in pain as you attempted to raise your upper body that lied against the marbled surface for so long. 

“oh dear did i overdo it? i have some pain relievers in my room, do you need some? what about water? are you feeling thirsty?” your eyes just started staring at her in shock  like a tarsier.

……‘is this really the same woman that made me submit and called me names.’ you asked yourself as you continued to stare only breaking your train of thoughts when you realized that sakura was starting to panic and ramble. you giggled at how cute she was in contrast to how dominant she was a few minutes ago. you pinched her cheeks to stop her from rambling which thankfully was really effective. sakura blushed at the gesture before you began, “im fine k kura, just tired” you reassured her. 

“but i think i need to rewash the dishes, sweat got all over them”

she rolls her eyes before joking, “don’t bother, some freaks in this household would want that” and then cackled

your eyes widened at her statement making you playfully shove her shoulder. “don’t say that, that’s so unsanitary!”

wiping her sweat, she picked both your clothes up, helping you get into them before also wearing her own clothes. her fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face as she leaned down, her soft voice filled with warmth.

“rest for a bit, alright? i’ll finish my task first’’ she said, her tone comforting. with one last glance over her shoulder, she walked away, her steps light but satisfied.

“oh by the way,” she paused, facing you “if you want more of me, just go to my room” she winked before finally leaving. you rolled her eyes at her statement before rerinsing the dishes. 

after finishing the dishes, you dried your hands and walked into the living room. yeji was sitting on the couch, her face flushed as she quickly grabbed a pillow and placed it over her lap.

“you’re done already?” she asked, her voice slightly shaky, avoiding your gaze as she fidgeted nervously.

you raised an eyebrow, noticing her unusual behavior. taking a step closer, you tilted your head in curiosity.

“what’s wrong?” you asked softly, your voice laced with concern.

yeji’s hands gripped the pillow tighter, her gaze darting away as her cheeks grew even redder. “n-nothing!” she blurted out, a nervous laugh escaping her lips.

you knelt slightly, trying to meet her eyes, your curiosity growing. “yeji, are you sure? you look… flustered.” you pressed gently, your tone teasing but kind.

her lips parted, but no words came out as she shifted awkwardly, clutching the pillow like her life depended on it. 

“come on, you can tell me yeji.” you urged. this made her let out a sigh of defeat, finally giving in.

“fine, it’s just that i uh-uhm…” she stammered, her voice starting to fade. “i watched you and sakura at the sink.”

it was now your turn to blush at what she said, “what?”

“yeah i uh-uhm got a situation down here……” she admitted. 

you gasped at what you heard, feeling guilty at the situation you’ve placed yeji into. you wanted to help and you were going to, with the ways you learned from this household.

“oh my gosh! im really sorry about that.” you apologized making yeji shake her head. “no no it’s fine y/n” 

“i can help you with your situation if you want” you offered. this perked her interest, countless thoughts running through her head and making herself smirk. “well…. if you want that” she accepted, ears reddening. you beamed at her before she took your hands pulling you upstairs to her room. 

when you both reached her room, she wasted no time pinning you against the door while locking it. her lips locked with yours rubbing her bulge against your core making you whine. her lips travelled from your jaw to your neck, trying to find your sweet spot. when she found it, she abused the hell out of it, your already loud whines were getting louder at this point.

while your mind while being turned into putty, yeji’s hands got busy too. they snaked around your body, slowly undressing you and herself. with all your clothes now pooling on your foot yeji pulled away, pushing you down on her bed. as you’re gasping for breathe, yeji sat between your thighs, hand placing one of your thighs on her shoulder. she then guided her member against your folds, spreading the wetness secreted by your greater vestibular gland. 

you whined at the teasing wanting nothing more but to feel her inside you. yeji on the other hand, wanted this as much as you but she wanted to take some necessary precautions to avoid hurting you. when she deemed you wet and lubricated enough, she pushed in. a satisfied groan soon ripped out of her throat, as you cry from her intrusion. yeji stays still for a while, letting you adjust to her size.

as soon as you seemed to adjust to her member, she began to thrust wildly making your eyes roll at the back of your head. in a moment, yeji’s room became filled with your pussy squelching accompanied by your whines and her groans.

“ah-ah-ah yeji!” you gasped out as you felt her member repeatedly hitting your cervix. yeji eyed the way your chest heaved up and down, how your breasts shook, a trail of drool running down to your jaw. she leaned in to lick it as one of her hands crept to wrap around your neck, giving it a light squeeze. your walls tightened as response to your body suddenly receiving a limited amount of oxygen arms thrashing against yeji’s back. 

yeji, feeling your reaction smirked as she further tighten her grip on your neck as black dots start to dance around your eyesight. 

“you look so beautiful like this, my hands around your neck”

just when you were about to pass out, yeji let go. you gasped for air as she continued to thrust roughly inside you. while you were catching your breathe, yeji leaned in to engage you in a lip locking session. moaning against the kiss, you wrapped your legs around her waist as you feel your climax approaching making her hiss at your tightness.

“fuck. are you getting close dear? you’re getting tighter all for me.” as she said those words, she began to feel her release too. determined to let you cum first, she held her release as her thrusts became became deeper and messy. your eyes well up from yeji’s change of pace as you reach your climax.

“ahhhh-im cumming!” you squealed wrapping your arms around yeji’s neck, pulling her to your chest, smothering her face in near your breast as you came. yeji groaned against your chest at how you tightened around her, finally letting go and filling you with her release. your bodies shuddered at the peak of your pleasure, your chests heaving up and down in an attempt to catch your breathe.

yeji stayed inside you for awhile, resting, before finally pulling out. you whined at the feeling of emptiness inside while yeji remained silent. you looked at her and her eyes was glued to your nether region. as she starred at how your mixed liquids flowed out of your folds, she let her intrusive thoughts win and she swiped her fingers to collect your fluid bumping against your clit making your body twitch as she licked it off her fingers.

“that was hot” you muttered, making you both look at each other before giggling together as if the two just didn’t have sex. 

“yeah it was” yeji agreed, closing in to cuddle you. minutes passed by as you both rested in her bed, nothing could be heard but your relaxed breathing as your eyes start to get heavy but a knock at the door interrupts the silence.

“yeji? y/n? i know the both of you are really tired but please do know that the others will be coming home soon and if you don’t want to be the subject to their teasings, you both better be by now” sakura advised. 

“yeah yeah we’ll be ready in a bit” yeji answered back, getting up and picking up your discarded clothes. your eyes followed her as she moved around the room picking up the clothes. as yeji finished, she sat back down at the bed handing you your clothes.

“you heard kkura, get dressed, when you’re done we’ll head downstairs” she said, getting up again to properly wear her clothes.you nod, thanking her as you also got up to wear your clothes. 

when you were both finished, you headed down to find sakura by the couch reading a book. she catches you guys in her peripheral vision, and she smiles closing her book. she patted the space beside her calling the two of you to sit close to her. you smile back pulling yeji with you as you jump to sit at the couch. the two giggle at your antics as yeji reaches over the coffee table to get some of the cookies that sakura seemingly baked. the three of you lounge and chat as you  wait for the others to arrive home. 

while the sun sets, you hear a bunch of familiar voices outside and the door opens with a bang.

“I’M HOMEEEEE!!!” sana yells and rosé hits her in the head to quiet her down. 

“shut your yap i’m already tired of hearing you all day” rosé complained rolling her eyes.

sana ignores her, eyes landing on you making her squeal.

“Y/NNIE I MISSED YOUUUU!” she exclaimed tackling you in a hug.

“hey sana…….” you greet hugging her back.

“how as your day? did kkura and yeji give you a hard time? did you have any fun? are you tired?” she interrogated.

“now now sana-chan, don’t overwhelm her so much” karina tried calming the squirrel down.

murmurs of agreement spread around the room making sana pout hugging you tighter. you all giggled at her adorable antics before sakura stood announcing that she’ll start making dinner.

“you guys should freshen up” she advised, pertaining to the group that stayed outside the whole day.

they all agreed with her, not forgetting to thank her for again cooking a meal for everyone. as sakura left to go to the kitchen, the rest proceeded to go to their rooms upstairs to freshen up, yeji towing behind saying she forgot something in her room. 

you were left there alone in the living room as you leaned back against the couch eyes glued to the ceiling as you let today’s events sink down. minutes pass by and you feel the couch dip beside you. you turned to your left to see wonyoung looking at you curiously.

“penny for you thoughts?” she asked.

“oh im just thinking of the things that happened today” you admit.

“how is it so far? have you been adjusting well?” she wondered.

“yeah, im loving it here.” you answered.

the two of you kept conversing as the rest of the girls joined after freshening up. time passed by and soon, sakura finished cooking, prompting you to stand up to help her set the table. one you were done, sakura called the rest over.  

wonyoung was the first to arrive, her bright energy filling the room as she eagerly claimed a seat. "it smells so good, sakura! what did you make?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.  

"you’ll see," sakura replied with a small smile, bringing out the dishes.  

sana followed shortly after, laughing softly as she settled beside wonyoung. "it’s nice to just sit down together like this after such a long day," she said, stretching her arms.  

karina nodded, sliding into the seat across from them. "no kidding. carrying all that firewood back was no joke. my arms feel like they’re about to fall off."  

rosé joined next, brushing snow off her cloak as she sat down. "you think that’s bad? try foraging for berries in the freezing cold. my fingers are still numb," she said, holding her hands out toward the fire.

soyeon walked in with yeji close behind, both of them looking a little worn. "hunting today was rough," yeji said as she dropped into her seat, her tired expression softening as the aroma of the food reached her. "but at least we managed to bring something back."  

"yeah, but i think the deer were mocking us by how fast they ran," soyeon added with a small laugh.  

soon, the table was filled with laughter and conversation, everyone sharing stories about their tasks and the small triumphs of the day. sakura’s cooking didn’t last long as everyone happily dug in, the warmth of the meal matching the lively energy of the group.

after dinner, everyone helped clear the table, but you offered to handle the dishes. the sound of laughter from the other girls slowly faded as they headed to their rooms, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

once the last plate was cleaned and dried, you wiped your hands and headed to your room. exhaustion weighed heavily on you, and you were grateful for the softness of your bed. as you settled under the covers, just on the edge of sleep, a gentle knock startled you.

"come in," you called softly, sitting up slightly.

the door creaked open to reveal wonyoung, holding a small cup of water. her usual brightness was dimmed by concern as she stepped inside. "i noticed you didn’t drink much during dinner," she said, offering the cup with a sweet smile. "i thought you might need this before sleeping."

"oh," you murmured, touched by the gesture. "thank you, wonyoung." taking the cup, you sipped it without a second thought.

as soon as you set the cup down, a strange dizziness overtook you. the room swayed, and your limbs felt heavy. panic rose in your chest, but your body refused to respond.

"w-wonyoung...?" you managed to whisper, your voice slurring.

"shh," she said gently, brushing your hair back. "don’t worry. you’ll be fine." her words were soothing, but the darkness that pulled you under was anything but.

when you woke, the cold bite of metal against your wrists jolted you fully awake. your hands were tied above your head, the cold shackles digging into your skin. your previous clothes were now replaced with a thin white nightgown that barely did anything against the cold. your surroundings were unfamiliar, a grand yet eerie castle chamber, with high ceilings and dark stone walls. the luxurious bed beneath you was in stark contrast to the situation you were in. it was eerie yet seemed familiar…….

your heart pounded as you struggled against the bindings, but they held firm. the dim light from a single window only added to the suffocating sense of dread. how did you end up here? and more importantly, where was wonyoung?

your train of thoughts was cut by the loud bang made by the door, a figure entered and faced you a smirk evident in her face. all the color drained from your face as you properly saw the figure. standing infront of you was the person you were running away from in the first place, the queen herself. queen jang daah.

your shocked must’ve been really obvious because daah began laughing.

“h-how did you find me?” you tensely questioned.

“oh y/n y/n, my sweet innocent y/n.” she mocked. “you thought i’d never find you? you thought a house hidden deep in the forest would be out of my reach? i have eyes everywhere my dear.” she finished, leaning close to you.

if you were first scared, now you were terrified. countless thoughts ran through your head. if daah knows about the house, what happened to the girls? were they caught? oh god hopefully not you prayed.

“why the silence my sweet? cat your tongue?” she giggled, her hand cupping your cheeks.

“w-what did you do to the girls? are they okay? did you hurt them?” you asked, tears starting to well up if your eyes. you let out a gasp at her response.

“oh your housemates? oh dear why would i hurt my attendants? that would be counterintuitive” she tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with menace.  

“a-attendants?” you repeated, your mind racing.  

“yes, my darling. attendants,” she cooed, leaning in closer. “they’ve been serving me all along. my eyes in the forest… such loyal little helpers, don’t you think?”  

your heart sank as her words began to sink in. “they… they were helping you?”  

“of course,” she said with a smirk. “did you think they were just simple girls living in a cottage? no, no, my sweet. they were tasked with bringing you to me. and oh, they did such a fine job of earning your trust.”  

you shook your head, tears spilling over. “no… no, they wouldn’t do that. they’re my friends. you’re lying!”  

her grip on your cheeks tightened slightly, her smile widening. “friends? oh, my dear, how adorably naive. they played their roles well, didn’t they? but don’t fret. their loyalty is rewarded, and now, you are here, right where you belong.”  

“why?” you choked out, struggling against the bonds. “why are you doing this?”  

her expression softened, though the glint in her eyes remained predatory. “because you, my sweet, are special. and i’ve waited far too long to have you. you should feel honored, you’ll never have to leave this castle again.” you didn’t believe her words, surely she ulterior motives right? like she’ll use your body for a ritual or something. 

“don’t struggle, my sweet,” she murmured, her face drawing closer, her lips curving into a smile that sent a chill down your spine. “this will only make it easier for you to understand… you belong to me now.”  

her hand trailed to your jaw, tilting your face up as she leaned in. her breath was warm against your skin, her lips dangerously close. you tried to turn away, but her grip was firm, holding you in place.  

just as her lips were about to meet yours, the door slammed open with a thunderous crash, the sound echoing through the room.  

“get away from her!”  

your eyes widened as you saw wonyoung standing in the doorway, her chest heaving like she’d run all the way there. for a brief moment, relief washed over you until you saw her lips curl into a sly smile.  

“oh, sister, you didn’t think you’d get to have all the fun without me, did you?” she said, stepping inside.  

your heart dropped, confusion and betrayal crashing over you. “w-wonyoung… sister? what’s going on?” you stammered, your voice shaking.  

daah let out a delighted laugh, her hand still cupping your cheek. “oh, my sweet, you didn’t realize? wonyoung isn’t just anyone she’s my sister. and she’s been helping me all along.”  

it all made sense now, why she looked familiar, why she reminded you of someone. she was the queen’s sister. the one rumored to have left the palace in pursuit of a much simpler life, hence you never saw her. but her resemblance to the queen was undeniable

wonyoung’s eyes softened as she approached the bed, but the warmth you’d once found in them felt twisted now. “don’t look so scared,” she murmured, crouching beside you. “we didn’t bring you here to hurt you. we just… couldn’t let you go.”  

“this has to be some kind of sick joke,” you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks. “you… you lied to me.”  

“we did what we had to,” wonyoung said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “don’t you see? you’re special. you’re ours.”  

“ours,” daah echoed, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “and now, there’s no escaping it.”  

you struggled against the bindings, your heart pounding in your chest, but neither of them seemed fazed. instead, wonyoung leaned in, her touch unnervingly gentle as she rested her hand on your arm. daah’s grip on your chin tightened, her possessive smile sending shivers down your spine.  

“don’t fight it, my sweet,” daah whispered, her lips dangerously close to yours. “this is your new life. you’re ours now.”  

daah closed the gap betweens yours lips while wonyoung snaked her hands around your torso. her hands played with your breasts until your nipples were erect. this made you moan against daah’s mouth giving her the chance to push her tongue inside your mouth as her hands found their way to your clothed folds, gently rubbing it. 

tears ran down your cheeks as your body responded to their touches in ways you didn’t want. but how could you resist it when two extremely attractive sisters are currently playing with your sensitive regions. daah pulled away for moment giving you the chance to breathe as she ripped your nightgown, exposing your bare body to the cold.

as your body’s natural response, your arms attempted to cover your body but daah caught them in time. 

“no need to hide your beautiful body my sweet,” daah cooed but her toned changed. “we deserve to see it after all the shit that you’ve put us through.”

wonyoung giggled at her sister’s sudden shift before joking, “calm down sis, we have all the time in the world don’t we? after all, she’s ours now”

daah said nothing, only nodding in agreement before sitting up on her knees to unzip her 

gown. wonyoung, seeing her sister, then followed suit. your eyes widened at the sight of their members stood tall between their thighs. seeing your reaction, the sisters dissolved into laughter at how you looked.

“why are you so shocked? it’s not like this is first time seeing one right?” daah mocked leaning closer again, “wonyoung told me about how much of a slut you were to my attendants.” her statement made you whine, closing your eyes in an attempt to hide your embarrassment.

the sisters grinned at your reaction before you felt the tightness of shackles against your wrist suddenly vanish. you open your eyes in confusion and just as you were about to ask a question, wonyoung already cut you off.

“we’re giving you the chance to redeem yourself, so be a good girl for us.” she explained. “and you better not waste it or you’ll face some severe disciplining.”

her last words made you shiver in fear but nevertheless, you nod. it was useless to fight anyway, your first and final attempt to freedom was nothing more than a facade so why not accept and enjoy your new life now?

“words pretty, i need to hear it.”

“y-yes mommies….”

“good.”

“now where we’re we?”

as those words left daah’s mouth, it was like a switch was flicked inside them. their grinning faces turned into faces filled with desire, almost predatory. like you were some sort of prey trapped.

“say sis, which one do you prefer? the front or the back?” wonyoung asked her sister.

“hmmm… i think i’d prefer her backdoor” daah replied, already moving behind you as her hands found their way on your breast. her actions making you moan, leaning back against her which in turn causing your body to rub against her member. this made the queen groan, pulling you closer to her rubbing her member against you.

“don’t forget about me.” wonyoung spoke, leaning in to capture your lips. you moaned against her lips wrapping your arms around neck. you were so loss into the kiss and the amount of stimulation you were receiving that you never noticed that the sisters have already lined their members against your holes.

you pulled away from the kiss to let out a squeal when you felt them enter you. you smothered your face against wonyoung’s neck as you tried to adjust to their sizes. this was only your second time taking two shafts inside you and it wasn’t easier than the first time. the sisters groaned as your walls tightened around them in an attempt to adjust to their sizes.

they stayed still, letting you get used to them. when your whimpers died down, a sign that you’ve adjusted, they were ruthless. daah moved first, and wonyoung followed suit their thrusts pattern all over their face as they try to find a rhythm. your eyes rolled to the back of your head, blindly grabbing anything in your reach. daah’s mouth found their way at the base of your neck leaving light kisses all over, but she soon gave a hard bite making you scream out it pain.

“may this be a reminder of who you belong to, us” daah whispered, thrusting harder than before, her hands slithering down to find your bundle of nerves, abusing it when she found it.

tears ran down your face from the combined sensation of pain and pleasure. wonyoung, seeing this leaned in to kiss your tears away her thrusts, following behind her sister’s. 

“fuck you’re so tight for us y/nnie~. for someone who ran away from us, you’re awfully enjoying this so much” she teased, her lips also finding their way to your neck leaving out her own mark. she pulled away, admiring your mark filled neck that the two of them made. she made eye contact with her sister, smirking as if they read each other’s mind. you felt them slowing down to a stop, pulling out and just as you were about to plead for them, they suddenly plunged back inside you with full force. your mind, now already deteriorated into putty made you mindlessly babble as more tears ran down your face. 

the room was soon filled your cries of “mommy”, your pleas, and the sister’s groans of pleasure as you felt their members hitting your deepest crevices and as you leaned forward in exhaustion your eyes caught sight of something. a bulge can be seen in your womb area, the sight rousing your attention making your moans start to quieten down.

daah, confused with your sudden silence, looked over your shoulder to take a look at whatever it is that caught your attention. seeing the bulge she smirked, leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“fuck, you feel us my sweet? that’s us, that’s us that your slutty body is taking” pressing down the bulge making you wail and wonyoung to let out a groan as her hands found their way to play with your breasts.

“she’s getting tighter–shit i’m getting close ahhh fuck!” wonyoung yelled out, her thrust getting out of control as she tried to chase her high.

“ahhh me too fuck y/n keep that up my sweet” daah followed, groaning as she laid her face in your neck, sniffing your scent. 

with their thrusts being all over the place and getting rougher and deeper inside of you, of course you also felt yourself being pushed over the edge. 

“mommies!” you wailed, “i–fuck cum!” words being forgotten, pleasure overtaking over your cognitive functions. 

“no! you’re not allowed to until we cum!” daah demanded, the restriction worsening your already sobbing state.

“b-but!” you tried to plead, only to be cut by wonyoung “i don't care how good it feels you better not cum unless we tell you to” she spat, closing her eyes.

fortunately, with how much you were squeezing them, they reached their highs. wonyoung came first, gripping your thighs, her nails digging against your skin as she shakingly tried to pump into to you in an attempt to maximize the pleasure that she felt. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt the warm fluid fill up your walls.

daah followed suit due to your anal orifice tightening in response to wonyoung’s release. she grabbed you by your neck, forcing you to look at her, your lips being caught in a liplocking session against her own lips as she releases inside you. 

the overstimulation got to you and without warning, you felt yourself release, your legs twitching as you let out an ear splitting squeal of pleasure, before leaning back against daah in exhastion. wonyoung layed against you too and you all layed there, in a sandwich position, all you of breathing deeply in exhaustion. 

you felt your eyes start to get heavy from fatigue as you squirmed to find a better position to sleep in. as you tried you moved around, the two pulled their members out of you to give you some space to move. when you finally settled down, they both layed beside you, each taking one side. 

“sleep now our darling, you need to regain your energy for next time” wonyoung whispered by your side, leaning in to kiss your cheek. daah seeing her sister’s actions, did the same kissing your other cheek. you smiled at their gesture, as you finally let your sleepiness take over you, finally able to accept your new life in the castle, pleased with the fact that their intentions with you have been cleared.

[tasiawrites]

Kinktober Day 1: - Pizza Dare Armin Alert

Armin x black reader smut. Contains: unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), implied mating press, doggy style etc. Enjoy!

Armin was tired. He knocked on the apartment door in front of him, already impatient. He was so glad it was his last delivery for the night, fuck eren for daring him to take his night delivery shift. He knocked on the door again and this time it flung open. The first thing Armin saw was the light blue sheer robe with faux fur along the edges. His eyes flew up to the face and he saw you. His blue eyes took in everything; the visible sheen of sweat on your darkened skin, the way that the robe hid everything but made it very obvious that you were naked underneath. He felt weak.

“Oh, Hi Armin,” you said, snapping him out of his trance. “Hey… I um have your pizza,” he said, face flushing an adorable shade of pink. “Oh yes, thank you sugar, would you like to come in while I get you a tip?” Armin nodded as you led him into your home. The first thing he thought was that it smelt so good. There were LED lights making the space glow a dark purple. He swallowed as his eyes followed the sway of your hips.

“You can place it on the table and make yourself comfortable,” you voce snapped him out of the unholy thought swirling through his head. As he did what you asked, you slipped into your room, grabbed your purse, and walked back into your living room to see the blonde sitting on your couch looking lost. “You good Armin?” that effectively in your direction. You walked over to him, taking out $50. Instead of taking the money he wrapped his fingers around your wrist.

“Please don't hate me.” was all he said before he pulled you into him. His lips met yours before you could even process what happened. Armin expected you to pull away but instead, you let out a soft moan and wrapped your arms around his neck. His mind went blank as you sat on top of him. His hands moved up your arms and trailed your body until you felt him grip the globes of your ass. Reluctantly you pulled away so the two of you could breathe.

“Wanted to do that for a while,” he said softly while trying to catch his breath. “Really,” you asked, running your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. He just nodded as his hands encouraged your hips to grind into his. “Well you should have,” you whispered against his lips before kissing him again. He bit your bottom and rubbed his tongue against the seam of your lips begging to be let in. Your lips parted and you could taste the mint on his tongue.

A soft moan left Amin's mouth as his tongue met yours. He quickly shifted under you and lay you down on your couch. He hovered above you. He pulled away for a second to remove his t shirt revealing his toned chest to you. Without a word, he went back to indulging in your lips. His hands trailed your sides tugging at the sash that kept your robe together. His fingers grazed your soft skin and he pulled back to take you in. The sight of you, half naked with half-lidded eyes, slightly sweating with labored breath did something to him.

“Fuck, where's your room?” he asked pulling you up. “Over there,” you whispered as you pulled you in the direction of your bedroom. As soon as the both of you crossed the threshold into your bedroom he pushed you up against the wall to get another taste of your lips. He was taking the breath out of your lungs with the amount of passion he was kissing you with. His lips left yours and his blue eyes met your brown ones. Words were not needed as you both knew what you wanted.

Your back hit the bed as Armin kissed down your body leaving small marks along your neck and down your chest. He spent some time playing with your nipples gently rolling one between his fingertips as he sucked on the other. His other hand was rubbing your inner thigh, teasing your wetness but never touching you where you desperately needed to be touched.

“Please Minnie,” you begged, trying to get him to do anything. He quieted you as he hissed down your stomach. He was slow and methodical when he finally got to your pussy. He placed a gentle kiss on the top of your mound before diving in. his tongue ran tantalizing circles around your clit as he spread your thighs open wider around his head. Your fingers found themselves in his hair as his tongue got you wet and messy. You weren't sure if you should pull him closer or push him away but you did know it felt too good.

You moaned in shock when a finger entered you as he pulled away to spit on you clit. His head went straight back down as his tongue flicked your bud. It didn't take long for the sounds of his ministrations to get to your ears. It was filthy. Simultaneously it wasn't enough. You needed more. “Armin, do something,” pleaded, pulling him up so you could get a kiss. All that escaped him was a choked moan as he slipped out of his shorts and boxers.

“You're-” you nodded cutting him off, fuck the condoms you needed him now. Armin tried not to fucking cum at just the idea of fucking you raw. His tip was red and dripping as he tapped it against your entrance. You entwined his fingers in yours as he pushed in for the first time. A simultaneous breathless moan escaped the both of you as he sank deep into your heat. You could feel him twitching as he tried to pull himself together.

Armin could feel the way your pussy swallowed him. Every part of you felt like it was sucking, pulling him in deeper. It was so warm, and wet- god he felt as if he were dying but he had to pull himself together. He needed to make you feel as good as you were making him feel. Armin gave an experimental thrust, slow and deep. His blue eyes took in every detail of your body as he slowly fucked into you trying to find that spot. The one that made you, he shifted his hips lower and your back arched, there.

Armin adjusted himself and started drilling into your sweet spot and you felt like you couldn't breathe. He had you folded in half as he used his weight to get as deep as possible in you. You felt so full, so good. Words failed to come to your mind. You just had to take it. He wasn't fucking you fast or rough, just deep hitting the same spot over and over. You forced your teary eyes open to watch his facial expression. His blue eyes were laser-focused on where the two of you were connected. His hair was damp with sweat and the gold chain he had around his neck dangled and reflected the low light of your bedroom.

“Minnie,” his name sounded filthy on your tongue. His snapped up and his blue eyes met your darker ones. “Fuck princess,” he sighed bringing his face closer to yours kissing you. You pulled him closer feeling his chest against yours. His hips slowed as he kissed you harder. You felt him slip out and before you could beg him to fill you again he flipped you over. “Need you like this at least once for the night,” he breathed into your ear.

Again before you could respond he was fully sheathed into your pussy. He hit your Gspot dead on and a filthy moan escaped your throat. He took that as encouragement and began fucking into you. He filled you completely and with every snap of his hips into yours, you could feel a delicious friction against your clit. You were dripping all over making both of your thighs slick and wet. Armin was ruining you. Moans and whines flowed out of your mouth like water. The grip you had on your pillow was the only thing keeping you grounded as Armin turned you into his.

There was a thrust that hit something in you that made your back arch and your arms give out. The only thing that left you was a strangled moan as tears filled your eyes. “M’ gonna cum,” the words tumbled out of your mouth, slurred and wet. Armin said no words but his finger found your clit rubbing it in slow circles making your toes curl. The orgasm hit you as if a dam broke, your body ceased as your back arched before you went slack.

Armin was going to die, he was sure of it. You were cumming on his dick and it felt heavenly. Your pussy was pulling him in and forcing him out. Its walls were pulsing around him, sucking him, it's like you never wanted to let him go. He kept thrusting as his orgasm approached. “Gonna cum princess,” he managed to get out. He didn't even have to ask as you begged him to fill you up.

He only had a few more firm thrusts left in him as he fucked his cum deeper into you. Even after he came he pumped himself into you slowly. The aftershocks of your combined orgasms left shallow spurts of cum flowing from your overstimulated pussy. Armin finally pulled out watching the mixture of both of your pleasures escape you. He restrested swaety forehead on your back as the both of you caught your breaths.

You lie on Armin's chest, clean and warm. “So… were together now right?” he asked. You rolled your eyes and looked up at him. He has a soft blush on his face and you couldn't help but kiss him. “What do you think?” you whispered to him as you pulled away from the kiss.

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

Nigga idk I just woke up🥲. Let me know how y'all feel, what I missed, if I made a mistake, or if you want something on the list changed. Stay safe love y'all ❤��

Masterlist

[lovelyhan]

— favorite poison ⟢

pairing: wonwoo x reader

summary: no strings attached sex is easy. catching feelings for a person you supposedly hate is hard. it's in times like this when wonwoo wishes he can set the dial to his life on easy mode forever, but everyone knows he's nothing if not stubbornly competitive.

word count: 15.5k words

tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, attempt at humor, in denial!wonwoo, angst, smut

warnings: mentions of twitter porn, brief discussions of past trauma, slut shaming, mild violence (wonwoo punches someone in the face), graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: this is the sequel to underlying pretense! thank you so much for waiting so so patiently for this second part! big thank you to @playmetheclassics for proofreading this monster sequel for me >< i wouldn't have done this without you, indi UEUEUE

this is part of the game over series!

smut tags: implied semi-public sex, game chair sex? jealousy, clothed sex, use of handcuffs, brief spanking, car sex, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, degradation, dirty talk, daddy kink, hard and soft dom wonwoo, creampie, cum eating, aftercare

svt taglist: @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @tommolex

wonwoo taglist: @renjunphile - @acgyu - @potatofrieswithketchup - @pluviophile-xxx - @pretty-trustme

fic taglist: @appachicken - @bekah931215

part one - part two - part three - part four

“So when are you introducing me?” 

The buzz of visitors inside the convention hall is already grating enough as it is, but when Mingyu walks over to Wonwoo’s designated booth, all it does is irritate him further.

He doesn’t exactly have to do anything aside from receive gifts from the viewers coming to pay him a visit and take a few photos with them, but Wonwoo is yet to accustom himself to being the center of attraction in front of so many people. So listening to his roommate-slash-best friend asking him stupid questions isn’t helping his case.

“To who? My family?” Wonwoo scoffs. 

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “No. Your girlfriend, genius.”

“What the hell are you even talking about?”

His best friend pouts, and Wonwoo is having a really tough time taking him seriously because Mingyu is wearing one of those hats with bunny ears that flop around if you press the buttons dangling from the front. “You’re always scampering off with some girl from time to time. The others haven’t noticed, but I’m your roommate, hyung.”

Roughly three months have passed since Wonwoo bit the bullet and agreed to be your…fuck buddy? Not-so-friend with benefits? Whatever this arrangement is called, he’s satisfied with getting to let off steam every once in a while, and you don’t seem to have any complaints as long as he fucked you stupid and helped you make filthy content for all the world to see. 

Honest to god, it’s a miracle how shit hasn’t hit the fan yet. But then again, you and Wonwoo were both careful and extremely selective about what gets posted on your secret Twitter porn account and what stays tucked away in the hidden galleries in your phones. That sort of cautiousness is rewarded with having to get away with everything you’re both daring enough to pull off behind the scenes.

Still, it doesn’t change the fact that, outside his sexual relations with you, Twitch streamers everyone_woo and Koyahngi pretty much hate each other’s guts. Even if yours is the best fucking pussy he’s ever had (something you’ll never catch him dead admitting aloud), he’s not about to do a complete one-eighty and treat you any differently in front of his friends and followers. You don’t seem to have any plans on doing that either.

Wonwoo hasn’t once brought you to their shared apartment, so he’s certain that Mingyu is basing all his hunches on pure intuition alone. And just because that intuition turns out to be somewhat right (PSA: you’re not his girlfriend) doesn’t mean Wonwoo has to come clean about his goings-on.

Besides, they’re at a fucking convention. Why is Mingyu trying to hotseat him now? 

“What gave you the impression that I’m ‘scampering off’ with just one girl?” Wonwoo smirks, shaking his head. 

“Whatever you say, elusive gamer who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman that isn’t his mom.”

“Fuck you. You know that’s not true.”

“Well, obviously, you’re smitten with someone, and once I find out who it is, I’m throwing the biggest party in Seoul,” Mingyu says with a huff of indignance coloring his words. He says it like it’s a threat, and Wonwoo makes a face at him. 

“Why?” he asks with a scowl.

“Because I love you, that’s why.” Mingyu then takes off the stupid hat and places it on top of Wonwoo’s head—even putting the work into making sure it fits and everything. “Anyway, I’m heading to Koyahngi’s booth to say hi. You wanna come with, or do you still have a stick up your ass when it comes to hanging out with her?”

Wonwoo has to keep himself from blurting out how he’s not the one with anything up his ass when it comes to you but realizes that if he wants to get Mingyu off his back, he probably shouldn’t make traumatizing allusions to his sex life. 

“I can’t exactly leave my spot until the main program starts. The same goes for you, idiot,” Wonwoo points out. “Who knows how many of your subscribers are looking for you at your booth? Go away and tend to them first.”

Mingyu pouts again, but since his best friend is a guy that’s literally a six-foot wall of muscle, Wonwoo doesn’t feel even an ounce of sympathy for him. “I haven’t even been gone for ten minutes! I just wanted to see how my friends are doing.”

“Then you shouldn’t have set up a booth at all, Gyu.” 

“Hmph. You’re always so stingy, hyung.” Mingyu crosses his arms before turning on his heel. “Anyway, I’m heading over to Koyahngi’s. I heard she’s cosplaying Sage today. Not that you care, though.”

He sounds so genuinely sulky that Wonwoo would’ve laughed a little as Mingyu stomps away to head to your booth. But the mention of you dressing up as a Valorant agent that Wonwoo has started to despise since meeting you makes a couple of memories from earlier this week resurface in his mind. 

Aside from the catgirl gimmick, your cosplays are but another selling point for your streams. You dubbed it the catgirlification of every playable character I like right after Wonwoo railed you two days ago in that same Sage cosplay that Mingyu just mentioned. 

What a fucking weirdo, Wonwoo mused for a second before blowing your back out again, not five minutes later.

About an hour later, the program on the main stage was in full swing, and Wonwoo had just finished doing a little segment with Soonyoung that one of the fans who won a raffle requested for them to do. It was a Pocky Game that got a little too intense because Soonyoung wouldn’t stop fucking squirming, and they nearly kissed in front of the entire audience. Wonwoo doesn’t entirely mind because PR is PR, after all.

The thing he does end up minding, though, comes a little later—after the convention hall settles into a more relaxed atmosphere and everyone is back to booth-hopping. 

Despite what he told Mingyu earlier, Wonwoo took it upon himself to do some wandering around. It’s kind of nice to see other streamers and content creators he’s only ever got to interact with on Discord or their respective streams.

But while he’s munching on a cherry-shaped cookie that Seungcheol is handing out to his visitors, the bane of his existence swoops down on him just when he thought he could finish this entire event in peace.

“Hey, daddy,” you giggle into his ear before swiping the cookie out of his hands, tossing it into your mouth without a second thought. “Didn’t think I’d get to see you today.”

Wonwoo clicks his tongue before shrugging off the arm you draped around his shoulder. “What do you want?”

“Nothing in particular,” you hum before swallowing the food you just stole from him. “But now that I got a taste of Cheol’s cherry cookies, I kinda want some more. Do you know where he is?” 

“I think I saw him flirting with a bunch of cosplayers near the stage.”

Wonwoo startles at the sound of a third party’s voice intruding in your conversation, and from the looks of it, you’re just as startled as he is. Turning around, though, his apprehension ebbs away when he recognizes who it is.

“Johnny,” he says with a small surprised smile before offering his hand for a casual shake. “It’s been a while.”

The famous streamer returns Wonwoo’s gesture gingerly, but he realizes that Johnny’s gaze isn’t trained on him at all. 

“It has been,” he chuckles before turning to you. “I didn’t know you were friends with Wonwoo, doll. How you got someone as cold as he is to warm up to you is beyond me, but at least you’re expanding your network.”

Wonwoo would’ve rolled his eyes. Johnny is just as frank as he remembers. But before Wonwoo can point out that: 1.) you and him are not friends, and 2.) he is not a cold person and therefore has absolutely no need to warm up to anyone, he quickly picks up on the sudden shift in the air. And it’s not his or Johnny’s discomfort he’s sensing right now. 

“Nah, you’ve got the wrong idea,” you respond to Johnny casually, but Wonwoo doesn’t miss how your fists are clenched at your sides. “Wonwoo would rather get banned from Twitch than call me his friend. I just like pissing him off every now and again, is all~ That, and his friends are pretty cool, so I need to tolerate him.”

Johnny laughs before reaching down to ruffle your carefully styled wig. To others, it would’ve looked like a display of casual affection between friends, but Wonwoo is keen enough to notice how you momentarily flinched from the older streamer’s touch. His brows knit together as he attempts to figure out what was going on.

Actually, how do you even know Johnny in the first place?

“Anyway, I’ll be going now,” he laughs before letting one eye drop into a wink. “It’s good to see both of you. Enjoy the rest of the convention, yeah?”

As Johnny exits, you’re a little too quick to fill in the silence he left.

“You’ve gotta take me to Cheol before he runs out of cookies,” you whine, tugging on his arm with a persistent look on his face—not even breathing a word about Johnny, as if it hasn’t been two minutes since he left. “I’m pretty sure I saw him wearing a Pikachu onesie, so he should be easy to—”

Wonwoo immediately cuts you off with a quick yank of your wrist. As he leads you to one of the unoccupied restrooms near the convention hall, your voice drones in annoyingly repetitive succession in his ears while you struggle to free yourself from his grip, but Wonwoo just won’t budge.

Not when he can’t get the sight of you with genuine fear in your gaze when you first laid your eyes on Johnny out of his head.

“Shit,” you whisper hoarsely the moment Wonwoo slams you against the door—a shit-eating grin resting haughtily on your lips as he nudges your thighs apart. “I knew you were possessive, but not this much. Johnny just gave me a few head pats, daddy. It doesn’t mean a thing.”

Yeah. Wonwoo is totally doing this out of some pathetic, alpha male need to stake his claim after another man got his grubby hands on you. Not because he was bothered by that look on your face and can’t think of any other way to help get your mind off it aside from fucking you senseless in a public bathroom.

“Shut up,” he murmurs before forcing your cheek against the cold door. “Now, take off your leggings before I tear a hole in them myself. Can’t mess up your perfect fucking Sage cosplay now, can we?”

You let out a noise caught between a sigh and a whimper as you do as you're told. From three months ago to now, your general opinion on Jeon Wonwoo as a dom has yet to change. Even if he was about to rail you with a fluffy bunny beanie still resting on top of his head.

He’s fucking perfect.

Right after that unplanned quickie, Wonwoo is at least keen enough to observe his surroundings as both of you discreetly part ways and sneak back into the convention. Since the main events were taking place on the other side of the venue, not a lot of people were milling around, and he thankfully manages to blend into the crowd without rousing everyone’s suspicion. 

Well, almost everyone.

“You’re a pretty shitty actor; you know that?”

Wonwoo doesn’t have to turn around to recognize the smugness in Seungcheol’s tone. The moment he lays his eyes on one of his closest friends—still wearing that silly Pikachu onesie and giving out his cherry cookies—he knows he can’t weasel himself out of this conversation so easily. 

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo says, deciding to play along to gauge what Seungcheol does and doesn’t know.

The older man scoffs. “Come on, Wonwoo-yah. You weren’t being very discreet when you pulled our very good cat girl friend into the restroom. Doesn’t help that you both came out looking dishevelled as fuck. So much for hating each other, huh?” 

Okay. He has nothing left to hide then. Great.

“Were we that obvious?” Wonwoo lowers his voice into a whisper, and the only reason he’s genuinely asking is because Seungcheol isn’t the type to joke around about these kinds of things.

“Only to the eyes of someone who personally knows the both of you,” he snickers. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

Wonwoo’s brows knit together, perplexed, but offers no more smart retorts. His heart is still pounding in his chest at the thought of having been seen with you. Fuck. He isn’t usually this careless. Then and there, he makes a mental note to not let his emotions pull the reins on his decisions next time.

“Thanks, hyung,” is all he tells Seungcheol in return. “I’m heading back. Uh, she was looking for you, by the way. Something about wanting more of your cookies.”

Seungcheol visibly perks up at the news, and Wonwoo has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. What is it with his friends and having some weird soft spot for you? 

As Wonwoo quietly slips back into his booth—greeting a bunch of his fans but not in a sociable mood—he recalls the prickle of heat in his chest when he saw how uncomfortable you were during that short conversation with Johnny. The memory makes his curiosity spike again, and he considers asking you about it the next time you invite him over.

But then he reminds himself that he does not have a soft spot for you unlike his friends. None at all. He’s just being a decent human being for having a modicum of concern because of how you reacted towards someone Wonwoo knows to be completely harmless. 

Aside  from the occasional NSFW spam on Twitter, Johnny’s pretty harmless, right?

“Hyung! Group pic, c’mon!” 

Wonwoo hears Mingyu call out to him several booths over and sighs. He probably shouldn’t put too much thought into something he won’t be able to figure out in the next five minutes anyway.

The next time Wonwoo comes over to your apartment is to try out some new heart-shaped handcuffs you bought online. You wouldn’t stop gushing about it to him over text, and he has half the mind to just cuff you to the bed and leave because of how annoying you’re being.

But for some reason, the handcuffs lay forgotten on your unmade bed as Wonwoo sits right in front of your set-up—begrudgingly listening to your instructions as he attempts to solve an overworld puzzle in that stupid game you and Soonyoung kept pestering him to play. Genshin Impact, yeah, that’s the one. 

“You have to hit the purple towers with Electro attacks, idiot,” you sigh. “Dendro is for green towers. Hydro is for blue towers. Did you happen to skip kindergarten or something?”

“I thought elemental reactions applied to these, too,” he grumbles. “You’re the one who said that Dendro and Hydro are good with Electro.” 

“Yeah, yeah, keep making excuses, color dunce.”

Normally, Wonwoo wouldn’t have taken the insult lying down, but he stubbornly chooses to solve the puzzle until he’s finally unlocked the hidden desert area you claimed to be ‘too lazy to figure out right away’. A hint of smugness crosses his features as he flashes you a triumphant grin. Wonwoo half-expects you to just roll your eyes and blame his progress on dumb luck or something, but to his surprise, you clap your hands gleefully before placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“Who’s my smart little gamer, huh?”

“Fuck off.”

It’s perfectly normal for him to hear you challenge his authority outside the bedroom. After all, you’ve made it your life’s mission to push all of Wonwoo’s buttons until he cracks and manhandles you in a way that leaves no room for your brattiness to slip out. Sometimes he likes to think that you rile him up on purpose because the so-called consequences end up rewarding you sexually tenfold instead. Which, Wonwoo thinks, is fucking sick, but from how much he lets you get away with it anyway, he figures that he’s got a few screws loose himself.

“Anyway, how about we check if you’ve got shit luck on gacha games or not,” you announce before nudging your customized gaming chair with your foot—the same one Wonwoo’s currently sitting on—so you can have better access to your mouse and keyboard. “Soonyoung’s luck is abysmal as hell. The only reason he’s got such a spiffy account is because of all those sponsors.”

Wonwoo scoffs. “Are you saying yours is any better?”

“Hey, I’ve got decent luck, mind you,” you huff before clicking a few times, and a new window pulls up on-screen, which Wonwoo recognizes as the wishing page. Soonyoung has shown it to him and the other guys enough times to remember what it looks like.

“Go on, just click the times ten button,” you urge him before tugging your gaming chair back to its original position. “It’s gonna let you wish for a character ten times, basically.”

“I know how gacha games work,” Wonwoo bites back.

“Of course you do,” you coo as he finally does a full summons.

He swears he’s going to edge you until you’re begging and crying later. It’s the least you could do for being such a pain in—

His vengeful thoughts are interrupted when you gasp out loud—eyes glued to the monitor as the shooting star glows like iridescent gold. Wonwoo doesn’t know shit about Genshin, but he’s pretty sure he just pulled a really rare character.

“I just pulled a five-star yesterday.” You scowl, staring at him disbelievingly. “How on earth—”

To your dismay, Wonwoo accidentally clicks on your mouse—ending the entire animation sequence a bit too early. But just when you’re about to berate him for being impatient, your jaw practically falls to the floor when you see all ten of your (technically Wonwoo’s) wish results.

He managed to bring home the featured five-star character five times. Five fucking times. Holy shit?

As you visibly freak out in your seat, bemoaning the fact that this legendary pull happened off-stream, Wonwoo stares at you bizarrely like he always does. You immediately take a screenshot, explaining that the probability of what just happened was several times less likely than you letting him fuck you while you’re livestreaming, but Wonwoo’s mind wanders a little right after that.

So…you would let him fuck you on stream, then? 

Not that it’s something he’s thought about before. Wonwoo likes the privacy your set-up affords him with, and he’s not about to jeopardize that with by committing such an inexplicable act of exhibitionism. But the mere picture it paints in his head is enough to make him swallow thickly. 

One of your stupidly short skirts bunched up to your waist. His hands kneading your breasts as he snaps his hips from behind you. All those pretty noises you make only for him now being heard by your incel-ridden fanbase. He bets they’d even like seeing their beloved Koyahngi get railed on-cam, but the thought of anyone else seeing you in ways only Wonwoo has had the privilege to makes his blood boil.

“Hm? You’ve gone quiet. What’s up?”

His eyes flicker over to your form—knees pressed against your chest underneath the oversized tee you’re wearing. You like to dress comfortably when you’re off-stream, which is understandable because even if you’re just sitting in front of a computer screen, doing so in full cosplay can be a huge hassle. He’s always wondered how you have it in you to put in all that effort for your viewers.

Curiosity lingers in your gaze when he prolongs the silence, but Wonwoo can’t bring himself to answer—mind too preoccupied with a whirlwind of thoughts to articulate any sort of reply. 

He can excuse those horny assholes on Twitter—your main target audience for the filthier content you make on the side. They have no idea who it is they’re really jacking off to anyway. But if some lesser man deigns to even think he deserves to look at you—the real you—while you’re writhing in the throes of pleasure…

You let out an undignified yelp when Wonwoo abruptly pulls you onto his lap, awkwardly straddling him as he stares at you intensely through the lens of his glasses. He can vaguely hear you muttering something about impatient men under your breath, but Wonwoo knows your irritation with him holds little to no weight with how you fold your legs on either side of his hips so his large hands can have better access to your ass.

“This is what you invited me for, isn’t it?” he murmurs, giving your backside a squeeze that has you mewling in response. 

Wonwoo smirks. What a needy little thing.

You gulp. “Y-Yeah, but—”

“Strip.”

“Wonwoo, I’ve gotta post about the wish results!”

He stares at you, unimpressed, and lets his hands fall onto the arm rests of your gaming chair, making you whimper at the loss of his touch. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The effect of his authoritative tone manifests all too quickly. You bite your lower lip as you tug on the hem of your shirt, lifting it up just to tease a sliver of skin underneath. Wonwoo narrows his eyes, fully cognizant of what you’re trying to do, but it seems that you know better than to piss him off even further. 

Your shirt falls to the floor and Wonwoo has to keep himself from groaning at the sight before him. It’s one thing for you to forego a bra, but panties, too?

“Do you like it, daddy?” 

Knowing you, the question is meant to taunt than anything else, but Wonwoo lets it pass anyway.

It always drives him mad, how subtle you are whenever you want to get a rise out of him. The way you roll your hips into Wonwoo’s has a tantalizing feel to it and he has to grit his teeth to keep himself from snapping. He’ll play your games and drag this on for as long as he has to. Because he’s been with you long enough to know how much you love it when Wonwoo lets you have an illusion of authority for a sliver of a second, only to bully you into submission right after. 

“Fuck,” you whisper the moment the outline of his erection grazes your bare pussy. “Missed your cock so much… It’s been a while since I’ve had you inside me.”

Wonwoo scoffs. “And whose fault is that?”

“How was I supposed to know these conventions were scheduled one after the other?” You pout before grinding deliciously against his cock once again. He can practically feel how wet you are through his sweats and it doesn’t help that each forward motion brings your perky breasts closer to his face.

Wonwoo lets out another sigh as he wraps an arm around your waist before leaning down to latch his lips onto one of your nipples. You quickly jolt in response—not expecting him to indulge you with pleasure so quickly—but his actions spur you on. As his tongue expertly flicks across your sensitive bud, you quickly haul his aching cock out of the confines of his sweats, grinding your slit across his thick girth. 

You’re convinced that this is enough to get you off. Though you’ve memorized how the bulging veins on Wonwoo’s cock feels like inside you, having each ridge graze across your clit prickles the back of your head with newfound pleasure. A growl reverberates in his chest as you expertly slide your pussy along his dick, and you brace your hands on his broad shoulders to anchor yourself.

“Daddy,” you whine. “Can I? Please? Want it so bad.”

The words are punctuated with a pained moan when Wonwoo’s mouth trails higher before biting down on the junction between your neck and shoulders. He doesn’t miss the way your cunt momentarily pulses from his aggression, and he gladly guides your hips as you rub yourself all over his cock.

“My good little whore, always asking permission first,” he chuckles. “Go ahead. Fuck yourself on my cock.”

Wonwoo lifts you off his lap for a moment, earning himself a whine in protest, but when you realize he’s going to take off his sweats, you practically salivate once his strong thighs ease back onto your gaming chair. You don’t bother catching his gaze for an implicit confirmation. You simply sink down on his cock like you’ve been craving for days. 

A choked out moan gets caught in the back of your throat when he fills you to the brim—making your brain go blank for a moment before you remember to start doing as he asked. Wonwoo watches you through an intense, hooded gaze. The only indication that he’s even feeling remotely good is the way his fingers grip the arm rests tighter whenever your walls clench around him every now and again.

Despite the pure, unadulterated bliss that surges through you every time you’re mounted on Wonwoo’s length, it pisses you off how put-together he typically looks like when you’re on top.

You want to see him just as depraved as you are—panting and thrusting into you like he’ll die if he doesn’t fuck you deep enough. But you can never get Wonwoo to handle you the way you want to be handled when you’re riding him like this. As much as you like seeing those sharp eyes watching your every move, the only way he’ll truly fuck you like you deserve is…

Wonwoo’s brows are quick to furrow once you promptly lift yourself off his lap—length slipping out of your pussy as you make your way towards the bed. However, when you spread yourself out on the mattress face down, ass up, it definitely sparks his interest.

And like a cherry on top, you place those heart-shaped handcuffs of yours on the swell of your ass, almost like you’re inviting him to play with you.

The next thing he knows, the worn out threads of his self-control have snapped. He’s behind you not a moment later—hissing through his teeth as he throws his shirt somewhere on the floor. 

You moan when Wonwoo continues grinding his cock against your ass while he yanks both of your wrists behind you. The cold bite of the handcuffs alerts you to what you’ve allowed him to do, and when the lock clicks in place, you stifle a shuddering sigh into the sheets.

Suddenly, his breath is right next to your ear. “Where’s the key for this thing?” 

You feel Wonwoo tug against the fake metal to test for sturdiness, and you feel your chest warm at his discretion. Though he’s, by no means, soft with you, he always takes the time to check if you’re comfortable with what you’re about to do together—no matter how subtle.

“On the nightstand,” you tell him all while pushing your ass back to meet his shallow thrusts. “You can go wild with the cuffs, daddy. They’re high quality for a reason.”

A low, devilish laugh escapes him. 

“Be careful what you wish for, slut.”

He’s merciless with the way he slides his length back into your sopping hole, one hand pushing the back of your head further into the mattress as the other yanks at the chain link of the handcuffs. Each powerful stroke sends you forward on the bed, and his name tumbles in broken syllables from your mouth as he fucks the shape of his cock into you.

“That’s not what you’re supposed to call me,” he growls before snapping his hips with a particularly punishing thrust. “We’ve barely even started and I’ve already fucked you stupid? Are you so hungry for cock that you’ve already forgotten who I am?” 

“I-I’m sorry, daddy!” you whimper as he pounds into you relentlessly. “Just feels s-so fucking good. Love your cock so much!” 

“Yeah?” Wonwoo lets out a patronizing laugh before tugging on the handcuffs again—putting a delicious strain on your arms that amplifies your pleasure in some twisted way. “When you were out there dolling yourself up for conventions, did you think about my cock? Did you want me to fill you with my cum in the restroom again? You really fucking liked it when I did that to your Sage cosplay, didn’t you?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble as tears start to cascade down your cheeks. “Want to get split open on your cock forever, daddy! Want your cum dripping down my thighs when there’s tons of people around—ah!” 

The sharp sound of one of Wonwoo’s palms colliding with the meat of your ass rings in your ears, and it leaves a pleasurable sting sizzling across your flesh. You can’t help the surge of pride that fills you as Wonwoo moans out loud the moment your pussy clenched around him in surprise.

“Dirty fucking cockslut,” he rasps. “You just love it when you’re being filthy for everyone to see.”

For a moment, you’re liberated from the steady burn your arms have been sustaining in such a complex position. Wonwoo surrenders his grip on the handcuffs—letting your bound wrists fall uselessly atop the small of your back. His cock doesn’t quite slip out of you, but you feel him move around from behind. You crane your neck to see what he’s up to, but when you see him angling his phone in a shot that would definitely make for good content to post later, you feel your arousal spark tenfold.

“Now be a good fucking girl for daddy, and let him show everyone how filthy you are.”

The moment the telltale sound of the record button being pressed hits your ears, Wonwoo reclaims his grip on your dainty handcuffs before resuming his ministrations. You let out a long-winded moan as you meet his powerful thrusts, hands instinctively straining against your restraints out of the need to rub your throbbing clit for faster release, but you know it’s a futile effort.

Behind you, Wonwoo is practically losing his mind over the sight of your creamy essence coating his cock with each slide of his hips. You’re extra responsive with the handcuffs as expected. You’ve always had a thing for switching things up in the bedroom, but you’re clenching around him even tighter than usual. 

He tells himself to just film a few seconds of you getting railed with your heart-shaped handcuffs adding more spice into the mix. Then he can truly have his way with you. 

When he’s satisfied, Wonwoo quickly discards his phone on your bed—eyes darting towards your nightstand before he spots what he’s looking for. Another needy whine reverberates in the air when his cock slips out of you so he can walk over to retrieve it. 

Like the good whore you are, you don’t even move an inch. You patiently wait for Wonwoo to return and fill you up again even if the fact that he’s making you wait in the first place makes you want to be a brat. But when you feel the handcuffs fall away from your wrists after he unlocks them, you whip your head around to flash him a startled look. 

Wonwoo tosses your newest toy away with little concern for their well-being before grabbing your face—crushing your lips together in an open-mouthed kiss.

“Mine,” he growls before manhandling you so that you’re laying on your back. “This slutty fucking pussy belongs to me, got that?”

You nod, moaning as he presses his tongue deep into your mouth. You would say yours in return, but you’re blindsided by the way Wonwoo throws your legs over his shoulders—plunging his fat dick back into the velvet heat of your cunt.

As he whispers the filthiest things into your ear, you figure that Wonwoo must have been just as pent up as you are. The consistency of his thrusts is starting to falter—sharp, calculated thrusts turning erratic and sloppy as his orgasm starts to catch up to him. 

With your hands free, you’re able to reach between your thighs in a feeble attempt at finding your clit. However, when Wonwoo catches wind of what you’re trying to do, he slaps your hand away—eyes boring into you with so much angry disappointment, you would’ve cried and begged for his forgiveness right then and there.

“Come on my cock or don’t come at all, whore,” he warns. “I’m already generous enough to have you writhing on my dick, and you can’t even be grateful about that?”

“I am, daddy!” You insist, tears threatening to spill again as you lace your arms around his neck. “You’re hitting me so deep. I’m g-gonna come soon, please—”

“Does my pretty cockslut want me to come inside her?” Wonwoo whispers before pressing your knees against your breasts. “Does she want me to fill her slutty pussy with my cum?”

“I want it, daddy. Want you to fill me up,” you beg as you desperately tug him down for a kiss. 

Normally, Wonwoo would’ve denied you simply because he can, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. But for some reason, he lets himself fall into you—lips latching onto yours like he’s done hundreds of times before. 

It seems like the kiss is what catalyzes your release, and Wonwoo groans into your mouth when he feels your walls clamp down on his cock—desperately milking him for his cum. He isn’t too far behind. All it takes is a few more pistons of his hips before he stills inside you. 

The sensation of being filled with his hot cum makes you pull away from his lips as another long-winded moan sings in his ears. Wonwoo’s shudders from the aftermath of his release, all while slowly fucking his emission deeper into your cunt. From the satisfied purr that escapes you, he thinks you like it just as much as he does.

Wonwoo really didn’t plan on staying over. Really, he didn’t. But the way you tug him back down on the mattress right after he’s finished cleaning you up makes him a bit too hyper-aware of his own aching muscles—both from this morning’s weight training and the several rounds he just shared with you. So he lets you snuggle closer to his clothed chest, the warmth from both of your bodies permeating into each other. He’s never felt more toasty beneath a comforter than he does now.

“This is nice,” you tell him quietly. “I wonder if people will like it if I posted videos of us just cuddling.”

Wonwoo laughs, thumbs absentmindedly caressing the red marks left by your handcuffs. “Doubt it.”

Your silly lo-fi music still plays from your computer's speakers , but neither of you could be assed to get up and turn it off. Wonwoo wouldn’t call himself a professional cuddler—you two have only cuddled a total of three times since you started fucking around, and you often complained about how stiff he always is—but from how comfortably your limbs slot into his, he supposes that he’s doing an okay job.

There’s a hint of intimacy charging the air, one that’s leagues different from the carnal lust that clouds his brain every time he fucks you. His chest twists with each passing moment, and Wonwoo makes the mistake of flickering his eyes on your half-asleep form pressed against him. 

It’s been months since you and him started fooling around, but he knows perfectly well that he isn’t the first to have seen you so vulnerable . While he usually doesn’t give a shit about that, and Wonwoo knows the topic is quite sensitive from the little tells he could pick up on for the past few months…

“Can I ask about your old dom?”

Wonwoo can practically feel you stiffen against his touch, which is one of the main reasons why he hasn’t once tried to broach the topic in the past. Even if you could be a nuisance ninety percent of the time, he isn’t a fan of making people uncomfortable on purpose. He’s about to follow his inquiry up with the reassurance that it isn’t a big deal, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but—

You squirm away from his embrace, and Wonwoo lets you, albeit hesitantly. His shoulders relax when he realizes you’re just repositioning yourself so that you can face him directly, chewing the inside of your cheek like you don’t have the words just yet. 

“He was…mean,” you whisper, forcing Wonwoo to wrap his arms around you once again. “Even meaner than you are. You’re at least a semi-decent person outside the domspace, but that guy? Piece of shit for real.”

Wonwoo nods. “But you don’t really care about that, do you?”

“Yeah. I can look past him being the meanest dom on the face of the earth. As long as he could satisfy me sexually, then we’re all good.”

“So…what made you part ways?”

Your gaze drifts to Wonwoo for a moment. He looks a lot different when his face isn’t bathed in the deep red of your mood lights. His hair is tousled, eyes squinting a little even if you aren’t that far away from him. And the earnest tone in his voice as he posits the question is something you could get used to hearing every now and again.

“Well, I don’t really do relationships, you know that right?” you say and Wonwoo nods. “My old dom didn’t get that though. He was really possessive of me even outside of our sessions together. It got to a point where he would get really…physical with me just to get the point across.”

Silence dips between the both of you—white noise ringing so loud in Wonwoo’s head, he can barely hear your shitty lo-fi playlist anymore. He’s always had a thing for making you cry during sex, but that’s all it is—some dacryphilia play to scratch both of your kinks. No matter how infuriating you are, he can’t imagine himself ever hurting you outside a pleasurable, sexual context.

Then he remembers the first time you invited him over to film some clips. How you stared at him as he cleaned you up like you aren’t used to the aftercare. Like you aren’t used to being treated delicately.

Is that because of your old shitty dom?

“He’s a fucking asshole,” Wonwoo grumbles before pressing your body closer to his. 

You chuckle. “He is. I’m glad I got out of that before things got even uglier.”

“How’d you even get rid of him?”

“Eh, it’s nothing a little blackmail won’t fix.”

Wonwoo’s brow arches at your response. You’re such an evil little minx, it’s actually admirable.

A little later, the conversation about your previous sexual partners fades away, and you’re back to tracing weird shapes on Wonwoo’s chest for him to guess. He spends half the time convincing you to just shut up and go to sleep, but he finds himself indulging you in your silly whims regardless. 

“Wonwoo, you’re a pretty great fuck buddy, you know that?”

He hums. “Why is that?”

“‘Cause you never go overboard with the stuff you do to me,” you say, eyes drifting away from his as you list off the reasons off your fingers. “You always let me annoy the shit out of you without getting pissed for real. You’re good at keeping secrets, too. Oh, and I never have to worry about you looking for anything more than this since you’re a pretty laid back guy. Def not the commitment type, which is exactly my type.”

Wonwoo scoffs. “If I become someone that isn’t your type, would that get you off my back?”

“I doubt that would ever happen,” you giggle.

For some reason, part of him wishes for the same thing.

But you don’t have to know about that.

On the morning of Soonyoung’s birthday, Wonwoo wakes up irritated.

He had a dream about you—one where you stopped being fuck buddies with him because you wanted to try things out again with your old dom. Someone that Wonwoo doesn’t even know, not even by name. Yet the rage that dream-Wonwoo felt upon seeing you hand-in-hand with some faceless punk as you both left him in the dust is almost too lifelike to ignore. 

So, he does something stupid.

He pulls up his phone—ignoring every message asking if he’s going to show up for Soonyoung’s party later—and pulls up his Twitter app. He doesn’t spend much time there, even if he is co-managing your super secret porn account. In fact, he eventually muted the notifs for that too, when the appeal of having your illicit acts shared to the unknowing public finally fizzled out. 

But he doesn’t log in to check the notifications you’ve amassed, as well as the pathetic DMs asking where your location was so they could fly in to fuck you themselves. No, Wonwoo scrolls past all the content you’ve made with him to unearth things best left in the past.

Like the videos he films with his own camera, the ones you made with your old dom are more than discreet—despite the hyper-possessive tendencies you’ve mentioned. There’s absolutely nothing to be gleaned about his identity, and Wonwoo is left wondering how stupid he’s being for wanting to know who it was that made you feel good before he came into the picture.

Why does it matter anyway, right? 

Even if you did hypothetically leave him to fuck around with your old shitty dom—or anyone else for the matter—why would it matter to Wonwoo? The two of you aren’t even friends. And if you had some other person to bother, that would mean less shit for him to deal with.

But why does the thought of letting someone else have you fill him with so much vitriol that Wonwoo nearly melts his cereal bowl with his glare alone when he comes out for breakfast?

“Hyung,” Mingyu calls out from the seat adjacent to his, rightfully concerned. “You okay? I can always grab a new brand if you hate this one so much.”

The taut muscles on his face soften at the sulking tone to Mingyu’s voice. “Oh, uh. Sorry. It’s not that. I was just thinking.”

“Of your girlfriend?”

“...Of how I’m going to break your PS5 if you don’t cut it out with that girlfriend shit.”

Mingyu whines. “Wonwoo-hyung, I paid good money for that! But fine, I won’t pester you anymore if you’re so intent on keeping her a secret from the world.”

A secret… That’s right. 

What you and Wonwoo have is something that not even his best friend is completely aware of. Sure, Mingyu’s roommate-senses have been tingling for weeks, but Wonwoo knows that he will never really know the full story unless either you or Wonwoo let him in on the secret. 

Which will probably never happen if the two of you want to keep your careers, of course.

“Anyway, the rest of the guys are asking if you’re coming to Soonyoung’s party,” Mingyu says in an attempt to divert the conversation, thank god. “Everyone else has already replied except for you.”

“Who else is invited again?”

“Uh, our usual group, Koyahngi, and I dunno, a bunch of other streamers we know. I think some of Soonyoung’s high school friends are gonna show up as a surprise, though, but that’s just what Jihoon told me.”

Wonwoo considers the information at hand for a moment. 

He doesn’t mind mingling with fellow streamers and probably some of Soonyoung’s other friends, but the last time he’s seen you specifically is the day he bit the bullet and asked about your old dom. A conversation which ended on a pretty agreeable note despite the obvious unease on your face when Wonwoo opened the topic.

The fact that you haven’t texted him since is a little worrisome, too. It’s been about two weeks since that happened, and Wonwoo is beginning to wonder if he unknowingly hit a nerve and this is your way of sending him a message. 

He would’ve taken the initiative and checked up on you during your first week of radio silence, but when he catches you doing pretty fine on your latest streams and when he gets roped into some partnership talks with an entertainment agency that wants to recruit him, Wonwoo decides to put it off for later. 

Besides, the two of you are grown adults—so are the rest of your thirsty audience on Twitter. They can survive two weeks without content.

“Yeah, I’ll come,” he tells Mingyu about five minutes later when he’s already putting away the dishes. “What time are we leaving?”

“Uh, the party starts at seven. Do we go early or fashionably late?”

“Early.”

“Of course. Gotta put the senior citizen to bed early.”

“Mingyu?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

🐈‍⬛: Are you coming to Soonyoung’s party tonight?

🐈‍: yea, i just need to sort some stuff out

🐈‍⬛: Wow

🐈‍: ?

🐈‍⬛: I just didn’t think you’d reply

🐈‍: is daddy gonna punish me for ignoring him for so long &lt;3

🐈‍⬛: I’m being serious

🐈‍: well, so am i

🐈‍: anyway, tell soonie i’ll be there soon

🐈‍: i’m just talking to someone

🐈‍⬛: Okay

Wonwoo has been hanging out with his friends long enough to know that only a select few can really handle their liquor. It doesn’t help that today’s celebrant is the worst lightweight of them all. It’s barely thirty minutes past eight, and Soonyoung is already screaming profanities on one of the tables—using an unopened bottle of absinthe that Seungcheol gifted him with as a makeshift microphone as he belts out trashy lyrics from songs Wonwoo vaguely recognizes.

Mingyu films the entire thing on his phone, stifling his laughter while sipping on his own drink. Wonwoo can only roll his eyes at his best friend’s tolerant behavior.

At around nine, Jeonghan and Joshua arrive at the scene with a tiger-themed cake in tow, and half the friend group has to physically restrain Soonyoung just so the birthday boy could blow out his fucking candles properly. After criticizing the baker’s work (“The eyes are uneven! Tiger eyes are perfectly symmetrical!), Jeonghan rounds up the other guests to sing a loud Happy Birthday just to get Soonyoung to finally shut up. When the song comes to a close, though, Seokmin giggles a little too conspiratorially before dunking Soonyoung’s face into the cake.

It’s gatherings like this—no matter how rowdy and unacceptably loud—that make Wonwoo stick around. He might not look the part, but he loves it when he sees his friends be themselves outside of their streamer personas. It’s like high school and college all over again. 

But when the clock on his phone reads ten-thirty, and he realizes you’re still not at the venue, Wonwoo considers shooting you another text asking where you were. It’s an idea he quickly shoots down the next second because first of all, you’re not even friends. It’d be weird if he just asked out of nowhere. 

He supposes he could use wanting a quick fuck as an excuse to get some intel on your whereabouts. But the thought of lying to you doesn’t sit right with Wonwoo for some goddamn reason. 

When Mingyu offers him a drink, he half-considers taking it just to get his mind off you. He’s pretty sure his roommate has picked up on his distracted behavior, and is only attempting to soothe him somewhat with some beer. But Wonwoo reminds him that he’s one of tonight’s designated drivers and decides to pass.

Everyone in attendance is in the middle of a game of truth or dare when Wonwoo’s phone buzzes in his jacket pocket. He’s quick to excuse himself when he sees who it’s from and what message was left for him to read.

🐈‍: help me. please.

Thankfully, you had the foresight to send him your location after shooting him that cryptic text, and Wonwoo is glad to find that you’re just a few blocks away. Still, he decides to take his car since the weather decided to be a bitch, sending in an unexpected downpour in the middle of summer.

He pulls over in front of a closed bookshop once he’s sure you’re in the area—looking around for any signs of you. The streets are deserted, and Wonwoo is trying to figure out what could have possibly brought you to this place at this hour. Why didn’t you just head straight to Soonyoung’s party? 

And why did you call him for help?

Through the rain and the poor lighting, he finally spots you—standing underneath the canopy of a waiting shed next to a man whose back is turned to Wonwoo.

He doesn’t think twice. He just gets out of his car and runs in the rain—chest warming at the sight of your downcast face perking up at the sight of him. Wonwoo would’ve let himself be glad that you're safe and sound, if only your current company didn’t turn around and reveal his identity.

From the looks of it, you seemed to be having a pretty heated conversation before his arrival. Johnny was obviously annoyed when he turned to look at him, but the expression fell away when he realized the newcomer was Wonwoo. 

However, a sinister smile takes its place not a few seconds later.

“Huh, no wonder you were so quick to replace me, doll,” Johnny laughs insincerely, sharp eyes trained on Wonwoo as he stares the younger streamer up and down. “It’s him, huh?”

“This has nothing to fucking do with you, Johnny,” you grit out, but Wonwoo doesn’t miss the way your voice nearly cracks. “Can you just leave me alone? You don’t need me when you’ve got a bunch of other girls who want to suck your dick, right?”

Wonwoo observes the exchange with a stoic face that doesn’t betray his surprise. It doesn’t take a lot to realize at that moment that Johnny is most definitely the asshole dom whose face he wanted to pummel into the ground when he found out what he did to you. But the things he does know about Johnny and the things he’s just now finding out makes a storm brew inside of his head—unable to separate what’s fact from fiction.

Johnny’s a nice guy. Wonwoo knows this very well. But then again, he’s also the same person who blatantly likes Twitter porn on his official account, so where does that leave him?

“I guess you’re right, but your pussy’s a perfect fit,” Johnny chuckles. “Can’t help but want to hit that again and again, right Wonwoo?”

He stares down at him hard. “Don’t talk about her like she’s just some thing you can play with.”

“Oh? No wonder those new vids of yours have been extra livelier. Your new boytoy is a big old softie, huh?” Another mirthless laugh echoes in the empty streets, and Wonwoo feels his own body heat up with rage amidst the cold rain. “I never would’ve imagined it was Wonwoo, of all people, though. That really is a magic pussy you’ve got there, doll. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found out you’re fucking his twelve other friends, too. Fucking whore—”

Before Johnny could get another word out, Wonwoo’s fist had already collided with the side of his face—knocking the older man to the ground with a disgruntled sound. He can vaguely hear you calling his name in shock, pulling him back with your little hands as Wonwoo stares down at a person he used to look up to.

“Call her that one more fucking time,” he rasps—eyes alight with anger, “and I’ll make sure it’s not just a busted eye you’re leaving with tonight.”

“Wonwoo,” you plead, tugging on his arm. “Please. He’s not worth it. Let’s just go.” 

Johnny still has it in him to bark out another laugh, spitting out some blood from his mouth and onto the pavement. “Running away again, princess? That’s what you’ve always been good at anyway.”

When Wonwoo moves to lunge at him again, you lace your fingers with his. For some reason, it makes him falter. Wonwoo stares at where your hands are adjoined, then looks into your eyes—glistening with tears as you beg him to stop.

Sending Johnny one last threatening glare, Wonwoo tightens his grip on your delicate fingers before leading you back to his car.

Wonwoo doesn’t return to the party.

Instead, he shoots Mingyu a quick ‘something came up’ text, and that he won’t be able to play designated driver for the night. His best friend responds in kind, saying he should have fun with his girlfriend and just take a cab home. On normal days, he would’ve given Mingyu another unsolicited threat, but tonight, he’s focused on something else.

You’ve been quiet the entire time Wonwoo has been driving, hands placed on top of your lap as you gazed at the lights flashing by in a blur of colors and raindrops pouring down the window. He doesn’t have a particular destination in mind, but he figures that it’ll do you some good to have some time to mull over everything that happened. 

But when the silence gets too overbearing even for him, Wonwoo asks:

“What do you usually do when you’re upset?”

You turn your head slowly, red eyes shining even in the dark. Wiping the tears away, you say, “Buy a tub of ice cream and stargaze at the rooftop of my apartment building. That’s kinda impossible right now, though, since…”

Yeah. It was still raining. Fuck.

“Well,” Wonwoo starts, “we can still get some ice cream if you’re up for it. I know a supermarket that’s open twenty four-seven.” 

You don’t reply, simply letting your gaze drift back to the window, and Wonwoo takes that as an affirmative. 

The two of you sit in the silence so deafening, it unsettles even Wonwoo the silence connoisseur himself. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do in this kind of situation. Should he offer you some verbal comfort? Should he promise to deal with Johnny if he comes after you again?

In the end, Wonwoo chooses to preserve the quiet—thinking it’s what you need most right now.

He pulls into the supermarket’s parking lot in ten minutes. He’s about to tell you that he won’t take long—glancing around at the backseat to check if Mingyu left his umbrella there. But before he can even get a word out, you’ve already leaned across the center console, grabbing Wonwoo’s face with both hands before smashing your lips together. 

Wonwoo grunts, grabbing your shoulders as he gently pries you off him. “Hey—”

You don’t listen. Instead, you climb on top of his lap despite the limited space. He knows that the steering wheel digging into your back can’t be comfortable at all, so despite himself, Wonwoo pushes the driver’s seat all the way back. But then you choose to do something he doesn’t expect at all.

With the newfound legroom, you sink to the floor—puffy eyes looking up at him as you work on the buckle of his belt. Wonwoo gives you a stare that’s two parts disapproving and one part curious. In the end, he does nothing about it when you undo his jeans and take his cock in the warmth of your hand.

When it comes to you, it doesn’t take a lot to get him hard. The need to please shines in your eyes as you give him possibly one of the best handjobs in his life. You’re not even uttering a single sound, but your titillating gaze sends all the blood in his system straight to his dick.

Your mouth is on him the next thing he knows—giving his fat head some experimental kitten licks that make him want to shove your head down to the base of his cock. But he won’t. Wonwoo isn’t Johnny. He wouldn’t dare to be rough with you after what just happened, despite your apparent eagerness to give him head right here, of all places. 

The mere reminder of that asshole has him buzzing with rage again, but whatever frustration is left over gets quickly replaced with toe-curling pleasure when you take his heavy length in the heat of your mouth. Your tongue lathers the underside of his shaft as every inch bypasses your plump lips. What your mouth can’t reach, you compensate with your fingers—fondling both his balls and the base of his cock with tender yet salacious touches.

He has to tell you to knock it off. This probably isn’t how you’re supposed to deal with…whatever shit you have going on with Johnny. But your mouth feels like fucking heaven, and Wonwoo isn’t a good enough person to deny himself the pleasure.

The rain continues to pour outside, but the sound of it is eclipsed by the wet noise of you bobbing up and down his engorged cock. As Wonwoo’s orgasm slowly builds itself from the ground up, his large hand gathers your hair in a single clump—tugging hard enough to have you moaning around his length.

“Good, good girl,” he rasps before thrusting his hips into your mouth. 

 When he finally comes, you swallow every drop he pours down your throat. Even when your eyes start to sting with tears, you take it all while Wonwoo holds your head in place. 

As his high starts to ebb away, Wonwoo realizes this is probably the most breathless he’s been rendered since he started fucking around with you. He could probably blame that on the shitty car ventilation, but there’s just something so fucking enticing about seeing you wedged beneath him on the floor—face streaked with tears with remnants of his release still sticking on your lips.

Wordlessly, you peel yourself away as you scramble back to the passenger seat, making a nonchalant comment about how much you’ve imagined sucking him off in his car, but Wonwoo doesn’t quite process it all.

When he notices that the glass of his car windows have all but fogged up, he leans forward—one hand raised as he starts drawing shapes into the moisture. You stare at him with a bewildered look, wondering what on earth he was up to. But the moment you realize what he’s drawing, your expression twists from confusion to disbelief.

Stars. Wonwoo was drawing stars on his fucking windshield with his entire dick still out and everything. He doesn’t even look fazed while he’s doing it.

“You can’t be serious,” you say.

He shrugs and grabs some tissues from the glove compartment to clean up before putting himself away—handing it to you right after. 

He’s so fucking thoughtful; it still gives you whiplash.

“You said you wanted to see the stars, right?” Wonwoo shrugs. “This is the best I can give you right now, so.”

You stare at him for a couple of seconds longer—like you can’t believe a man like Jeon Wonwoo really exists on this earth. Then, you laugh. It’s one of those obnoxious ones that typically have Wonwoo rolling his eyes at you, but it sounds like music to his ears after seeing you cry your eyes out .

Wonwoo does manage to get enough ice cream for the two of you to feast on back in your apartment as you both watch this food show that Mingyu keeps recommending to him. The tricky part is trying to get your hands off him the entire time. 

For someone who went through something pretty traumatic earlier in the evening, you’re fucking insatiable. But Wonwoo’s resolve can no longer be shaken, and the dirtiest thing that you end up doing in your bedroom is giving him a kiss on the cheek before bidding him good night.

It’s only when you’re dozing softly against his chest—having trusted him enough to fall asleep in his company—that Wonwoo realizes something that might change the trajectory of your set-up for good.

He’s in love. 

The next morning, Mingyu greets Wonwoo at the apartment like a mother would her troublemaking son who got caught sneaking home in the middle of the night.

“It’s Koyahngi, isn’t it?” he says point-blank. 

Wonwoo doesn’t exactly have the energy to play some mental gymnastics with Mingyu right now. The moment it dawned on him how he actually felt about you, he couldn’t get a wink of sleep. Thoughts about what he should do have kept him up all night. Should he come clean about it? Should he just leave it be?

But when he remembers what you said about him during that one visit of his…

I never have to worry about you looking for anything more than this since you’re a pretty laid back guy. Def not the commitment type.

That pretty much leaves him with one option, which is the one he’s been meaning to take all along. The idea of having to confess his love for you like some sort of prepubescent high schooler honestly makes him want to vomit. But at the same time, resorting to…concealing his feelings from plain sight doesn’t sit well with him either.

But no matter what he feels about either option, Wonwoo knows that keeping his mouth shut about it is the best option. Especially when you’re still emotionally high-strung from that encounter with Johnny. 

“So what if it is?” Wonwoo grumbles, plopping himself onto the couch right next to Mingyu.

“For what it’s worth, I’ve always thought the two of you were a good match,” his roommate offers, and Wonwoo appreciates his pep-talk. Really, he does. But he’s pep-talking him for the wrong fucking outcome. “You should totally go for it if you haven’t already.”

You don’t do relationships, and neither does Wonwoo. He knows if he uses this line of reasoning as a rebuttal to Mingyu’s words, his best friend will stubbornly insist that he get the girl anyways. He’s always been the one-track-mind type that gives it his all once he’s finally set on something. 

But Wonwoo is nothing like his enthusiastic roommate. He’s cold, and sharp-tongued, and everything you probably wouldn’t want in a boyfriend. All he’s good for is a quick fuck every now and again, and he’s not about to start deluding himself that he can be anything more to you.

(Yet part of him still hopes anyway.) 

🐈‍: are u free today

🐈‍⬛: Be there in thirty

🐈‍: whoa i haven’t even told you what i had planned

🐈‍: what if i actually wanted to take you on a date to the park huh

🐈‍⬛: Did you?

🐈‍: no, my new raiden shogun cosplay set just arrived

🐈‍: and we kinda have this unspoken tradition 

🐈‍: if you know what i mean

🐈‍⬛: You want me to fuck you in it?

🐈‍: always <3

There’s something off when Wonwoo shows up at your doorstep.

He knows you easily pick up on it from the way your eyes narrow slightly when you scrutinize him. From what he can tell, he’s acting as aloof as he always does, yet you still ask him, “You okay?” as if he’s doing something different.

“Yeah,” he mumbles before quietly closing the door behind him.

As you lead him to your room, you tell him that you haven’t put on your cosplay yet because the stockings that came with your order were itchy as fuck, and how you’re thinking of having them replaced one of these days. Wonwoo hums in reply, eyes trained on the takeout packaging that litters your kitchen counter. He has half the mind to tell you to start eating healthily, but reminds himself that’s the sort of thing boyfriends do—not fuck buddies.

Your dainty lo-fi playlist is streaming in your room like always, and when you see the assorted fabrics of your cosplay crumpled on your desk, you heave a tired sigh.

“I’m too lazy to put it on now,” you whine. “Can you just fuck me normally?”

He doesn’t give you a verbal response. Instead, Wonwoo pulls you by the hip, pressing you impossibly close to him as he rests his forehead on top of yours. You startle a little at his abruptness, but your body language betrays no sign of resistance. If anything, you lean more into his touch as the seconds tick past.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you whisper like you’re afraid of shattering something delicate. “You seem out of it.”

“I’m fine,” he insists, and before you can say anything else in response, he slots your mouths together in a slow, sensual kiss. 

Wonwoo likes to get things done hard and fast. He’s a man who sticks to his schedules for the day if he can help it, so he typically treats these sessions with you as timed encounters. More often than not, he’ll be out of your door in two hours or less so he can dedicate his time to working out or planning for new content.

Now, it’s a little different. He takes his sweet time with you—mouths moving in voluptuous unison as if he’s finally dedicating each second to truly memorize the curve of your lips against his. You moan into the kiss, fingers threading through his dark hair before he pulls away from you with a breathless sigh. 

Wonwoo stares at you like you’re the center of the universe. He can only hope you see the same thing when you stare back.

You know when Wonwoo takes his glasses off, he means business. One moment he’s placing them on top of your nightstand, and the next, you’re suddenly pinned beneath him on your bed—getting your lips devoured by the insatiable man on top of you. 

There’s something so innately alluring to his kisses that you haven’t felt during the last time you fucked Wonwoo in this same room. Those were less kisses and more of a clash of teeth and tongue. Now, he stokes a kind of desire that almost scares you to have. You’re afraid if you indulge yourself too much in this version of him, you’ll get addicted. 

The two of you are supposed to be filming today. Yet you seem to have forgotten all about your plans as you lose yourselves in the heat of each other’s bodies. But despite the mellow pace that Wonwoo has established, the desperation still lingers in his touch. 

He flips the both of you over so that you’re sitting right on top of him, gasping out loud as you steady yourself across his hips. Wonwoo smiles lazily, drawing circles along the curve of your thigh before teasing the waistband of your shorts with a single finger. You whimper as you grind down against his hardening length, still confused about how soft he’s being with you today, but no complaints are going to be filed.

“You want my cock that badly?” he asks, and you nod a bit too enthusiastically. “Then work for it.”

You bite your lip, not bothering to remove either of your clothes when you haul out Wonwoo’s length from the fabric of his sweats. Just a few pumps from your small fingers has him hot and heavy in your hand—making your mouth water with anticipation. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of taking him inside your tight little pussy.

Nudging the hem of both your shorts and panties to the side, you quietly sink down on his engorged cock with a strained whimper. The lack of prep definitely isn’t doing you any favors, but the raw stretch of him so deep inside your walls sends a rush of pleasure straight to your skull. In no time, you’re bouncing on top of his lap like a bitch in heat—mind hazy with the feeling of Wonwoo hitting you even deeper than usual. 

You sort of expected him to amp up the dirty talk. You don’t always get to ride him like this, yet Wonwoo stays perfectly quiet as he watches you thrash and moan above him. His hands rest comfortably at the curve of your waist, guiding your movements, all while offering up a few thrusts of his own.

It feels so fucking good whenever he hits that perfect spot inside you, but the pleasure pulls the wool over your eyes because you’re completely oblivious to the way Wonwoo is looking at you right now.

He was a fool to think that if he just had his way with you like he usually does, those delusions of his would go away naturally. That it would serve as an anchor to the reality of your relationship with him. But when Wonwoo has you chasing your high right before him—so devastatingly beautiful in the lowlights of your bedroom—he realizes he’s fucked.

All this does is make him fall even deeper in love with you. 

“S-So close,” you whimper, grinding down on his cock with each downward thrust. “Wonwoo, please, please. Fuck—!” 

He quickly shoots up from his initial position, lying down, fingers tangled in your hair as he forces your head close to meld your lips together once again. Wonwoo fucks up into you relentlessly, his breathing erratic against your mouth, all while he tries his best to keep all of his secrets from coming out of his own lips. 

You’re the most infuriating person he knows, but he can’t help but look after you anyways. He claims to hate you, but the way he’s rolling his hips into yours would tell a different story. You drive him insane each waking day, yet you have no clue of the extent of it.

He would never admit it—not in a million, billion years—but you’re Wonwoo’s favorite poison, and he’d rather watch himself burn from the inside out than find an antidote. 

He hates having to hide you away from the world like this. Hates treating you like some sort of dirty little secret. He’s allowed to share you with the world through anonymous pornography, but not as a bonafide lover, and it drives him up a fucking wall every time he thinks about it. 

But the thing about Wonwoo and sex is that once he finally gets to fuck the frustration out of his system, his clarity of mind is a bit too quick to settle. As he helps clean you up in the bathroom, he tells himself that it’s simply impossible for someone like you to want anything more with someone like him. After all, you said it yourself.

You don’t do relationships. 

Who the hell is Wonwoo to change your mind about that anyway?

“Wonwoo?”

He looks up at you just when he just finished wiping a cool, wet towel across your leg. “What?”

Your eyes shy away from his. “Um, you might call me a sap or something, but I…kinda liked it.”

“Liked what?”

“That,” you say while making some vague hand gestures at him. “When you were all gentle with me and stuff. I wouldn’t mind having soft Wonwoo again next time.”

Next time.

The words echo in Wonwoo’s mind far more than what he expected, and he finds himself frowning at the notion. Can he still keep up this charade, now that he’s aware of his feelings for you? How long can he continue the act until he inevitably slips up, and you find out?

How long does he have left before you drop him because he’s starting to want more from you?

“Wonwoo, where are you…?”

He doesn’t hear the rest of what you have to say because he’s already padding out of the bathroom—heart beating a little too loudly in his chest. Wonwoo fishes his glasses from the nightstand and the keys to his car. He’s more than intent on getting out of here as soon as possible, but it seems you have other plans.

“Hey,” you call out before tugging at his arm. Wonwoo forces himself not to meet your eyes, but he feels the intensity of your stare regardless. “You’re acting really fucking weird today. Is there something wrong? Did I do something you didn’t like?”

“No,” he mumbles, wanting to add, I’m the one who’s done something you won’t like, but opting to keep his silence instead. 

“Then…why are you acting like this?” 

The pleading look in your eyes almost makes him cave in and pour out everything that’s been flooding his heart for the past few days. It’s so easy to just rip the band-aid off and be honest. To risk everything for the abysmal chance of you reciprocating his feelings.

But Wonwoo knows that life isn’t a fucking gacha game, and he’s not about to throw away what he has with you now, especially when he knows what he wants doesn’t coincide with what you want. 

“Just having a shitty day,” he reasons, and the lie tastes like acid on his tongue. “I’ll text you later. Bye.”

Before Wonwoo steps out of your door, he makes another mistake of looking back. Now, he isn’t sure if he’ll ever get the image of you on the verge of tears as you stood all alone in your bedroom for reasons he’ll never know

Wonwoo runs into Saerom in the supermarket one fateful afternoon.

Mingyu is usually the one who does the grocery runs for both of them—being the person who knows which brands are best for both food and apartment maintenance and all. But his best friend happened to land himself a modeling gig recently, and they rescheduled the shoot today on short notice. Wonwoo insisted that they could live another day without eating rice, but Mingyu was having none of it, and gave his roommate a full list of groceries he expects him to buy no later than today.

So here he is in the canned goods aisle, expression mirroring Saerom’s when she recognizes him as well. It’s not often that Wonwoo bumps into a familiar face in this part of town, so he’s rightfully surprised.

When she asks him if he’s free to have lunch with her at a nearby bistro, he sees no reason to decline. Saerom has always been his good friend, and it’s only natural for him to want to catch up. That, and he’s curious about what she’s doing here in the first place.

“I just moved into the neighborhood actually,” she explains once the waiter is done taking their orders. “Anyway, how are you? I haven’t spoken to you since that time I hijacked your stream.”

Wonwoo clearly remembers the day she asked him to look out for you all those months ago. Saerom is quite literally an angel, extending her concern even to the people who probably don’t need nor deserve it. He gulps down his water thickly, wondering if he should tell her the truth. 

But with how his brain seems to be all over the place these days, he ends up coming clean about it anyway.

When the food arrives, Wonwoo tells Saerom about the truth behind the porn videos implicating you in the past—how you’re actually the one being filmed in all of them. He also tells her about how Wonwoo takes part in the creation process of said videos (deciding to leave Johnny out of the story because that’s going to be another can of worms to deal with). Then, he ends the tall tale with the begrudging fact that he may or may not have caught feelings for someone he isn’t supposed to.

Saerom listens intently to each word—chewing on her salad with a contemplative look. She never betrays any sort of expression that would suggest her true opinions on the matter, which makes Wonwoo all too thankful that she’s the one he entrusted this with.

“I see,” she sighs once she’s finished the rest of her food. “I knew something was a bit off about her situation, but I’m glad that she’s safe, at least. Although about that budding romance of yours… Don’t you think it’ll be easier if you just discussed it with her directly? An outsider like me can only offer you so much advice, Wonwoo.”

He sighs, stabbing his food with his fork. “I know, but…what if she doesn’t want anything to do with me when she finds out how I really feel?”

Saerom lets out a wistful sigh—staring directly at Wonwoo like she intends for him to remember her next words for a long time.

“Then that’s your sign to find someone else who can accept the love you’re more than willing to give. If she turns you down, that’s more of her loss than yours, you know.”

Wonwoo wants to tell her she’s giving him too much credit. It almost sounds like Saerom is insisting that he’d actually make a good boyfriend. He half-wonders if he should ask her if she accidentally mistook him for Mingyu, but then Saerom’s phone rings in the middle of their conversation. 

It’s a short call, and Wonwoo doesn’t bother listening in to give her some privacy. When it ends, though, she bows her head in apology, letting him know that her boyfriend’s waiting for her at the parking lot.

“It’s nice meeting you again, Wonwoo.” She smiles before pulling him into a hug. “I hope your girl problems are already sorted out the next time I see you.”

Wonwoo lets out an uneasy laugh as he returns her embrace. 

He really hopes so, too. 

One month.

It takes Wonwoo one entire month to reach out again, right after he left you without a word in your apartment last time. Part of him feels like he should be guilty for ghosting you so suddenly like that, but he swears he didn’t ghost you. 

He’s just…giving both of you some time and space away from each other. God knows his judgment gets clouded whenever he’s near you. 

Still, he doesn’t really expect you to forgive him for it right away. Much like Mingyu, you’re the sulky type. But while he usually deals with Mingyu’s sulking by leaving him alone for a few hours, that solution is counterproductive when it comes to you because…he’s already left you alone for a month. Wonwoo has a feeling that if he prolongs it any further, you might not talk to him ever again.

You were already wrapping up this evening’s stream when he left his own apartment, and he figures you’re getting ready for bed when he gets to yours.

His knuckles rap against the door once, twice, and he waits. 

Not that Wonwoo is counting, but it takes you five minutes to answer the door—already in your comfortable pajamas and your kitten skincare headband resting on top of your head. It seems that you weren’t expecting any late-night visitors when your eyes nearly bug out at the sight of him. 

“Won—” You shake your head as if you can’t even bear to say his name. “What are you doing here?”

He hesitates.

Wonwoo doesn’t have an answer for you. He gave you space for one month, and he still doesn’t know what to say when he finally deigned to show you his face. 

Your posture is rightfully apprehensive. Wonwoo can almost imagine how you’ve branded him as a raging ghoster in your head for the past few weeks. For a moment, he fears that you’ll throw him out of your apartment before he can even set foot in it, but you simply wait for him to respond—affording him some patience he definitely doesn’t deserve.

“I…” Wonwoo starts but his voice falters, forcing him to clear his throat awkwardly. “You’re getting better at using Chamber.”

You scowl at him, and if Mingyu was here, Wonwoo thinks he would’ve face-palmed because of how pathetic he’s being right now. 

Seriously? Bringing up the latest Valorant agent she’s playing when you’re supposed to say you’re in love with her? Wonwoo can practically hear his roommate in his head, along with an added, You’re so fucking mid, hyung. 

“Okay,” you say, still visibly wary of his presence. “Anything else? I’d rather get everything out of the way so you can continue ghosting me in peace.” 

Fuck. He knew it.

“I’m—” 

Sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was too scared of how I felt about you to deal with it like a normal person.

“—starting to think that you’re fine without me after all.”

At this point, Mingyu would’ve pummeled him to the ground.

Jeon Wonwoo, you have the emotional intelligence of a rock, imagination-Mingyu points out, and he couldn’t agree more.

“Well, thanks for pointing out the obvious. I am fine without you, asshole,” you bite back snarkily, making the motions to shut the door in his face, but Wonwoo wedges his foot in between. 

“Wait—fuck. I’m sorry,” he insists, swallowing thickly. “Can I come in? Please?”

The desperation in his tone makes you arch an eyebrow. Wonwoo never says please. It’s almost always the other way around, whether in a sexual context or not. So even if you know you should just leave him there like how he left you a month ago, you breathe out a sigh in defeat before opening the door wider for him.

“Fine.”

You’ve never sat at your dining table with Wonwoo. You never had to. Whenever he comes over, it’s either to have sex or let you teach him about a game he can’t be assed to play on his own. He doesn’t stay long enough to warrant asking him if he wants some takeout or leftovers from the fridge, so seeing him nursing a glass of water across from you still feels surreal. 

“So are you going to explain why you suddenly just ditched me, or are we going to stew in the silence all night?” you ask. 

Wonwoo’s gaze flickers over to you irritably, and you hate to admit that the sight of that expression makes a pang of…something ripple in your chest. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, much less spoken to him, so even if you should be fucking mad, you can’t help but miss him. 

God fucking damn it.

He doesn’t answer right away. Like he’s carefully choosing which words he’ll allow you to hear and which would be better off unsaid. But if there’s something you’ve come to know about Wonwoo after all these months, it’s that he doesn’t have good intuition when it comes to other people’s emotions. 

Even if it seems like he’s being particularly careful about his words, that doesn’t guarantee that what’s going to come out of his mouth won’t be stupid.  

“I just had to clear my head for a while,” he says, providing no context whatsoever, and that makes you frown even more. 

“Clear your head?” you echo as you cross your legs. “From what?”

Wonwoo’s usually aloof look shifts for a moment. An unreadable expression flits across his face, but it’s gone before you can even make sense of it.

“It’s nothing you should worry about.”

“Nothing I should… Wonwoo, you were already acting strange the last time you were here. Then you went ahead and ignored me for an entire month!” You slam your hands on the table, the Wonwoo’s glass rattling in the process.

“How am I not supposed to worry when all this time, you made me think I was the reason you suddenly just flaked on me like that?”

He narrows his eyes at you, as if he doesn’t quite get why you’re pissed. “Why does it even matter? I’m just your fuck buddy, right? Why should you care if I just come and go whenever I feel like it?”

The apathetic tone that accompanies his words lances straight through your chest. Were you an idiot for believing that the look he wore earlier in front of your apartment was genuine? That he was actually apologetic for leaving you alone with your thoughts as you wondered what you could’ve possibly done to drive him away without a word?

Your fists shake from where you’re pressing them into the polished wood of your dining table. Wonwoo’s indifferent stare doesn’t let up, and as the white noise rings in your ears, it makes you wonder…

“Why’d I have to fall in love with someone like you?”

The words come out so softly, so quietly that you doubt Wonwoo would’ve heard you. But as your vision gets blurry with tears, you don’t see how  surprise begins to eclipse his aloofness.

Wonwoo felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach when his ears caught what you just said. He couldn’t have heard wrong. It was too quiet in your apartment to mistake what you said for anything else.

You’re…in love with him?

“You know what?” You breathe in deeply, eyes darting up to the ceiling as you wipe off the evidence of your vulnerability. “Just…leave, Wonwoo. I can’t talk to you right now. Please.”

“Say it again.”

When your gaze drifts back to him, it’s accompanied with an expression twisted into disbelief.

“What?”

Before you can even think about what he could even mean by that, Wonwoo gets up from his seat, striding over to your side of the table. You flash him another apprehensive stare, but all of a sudden, he cups your face in both of his hands—delicately, like he’s afraid of breaking something precious.

“Tell me you’re in love with me.”

You immediately bristle at his request. “Are you fucking insane? I know you’re a sadist but—”

Wonwoo presses forward without warning—capturing your lips in an unsolicited kiss that catches you off guard but angers you at the same time. No matter how badly you missed having him pressed up against you in more ways than one, you’re not going to let him trample on your feelings again. 

“I hate you,” you rasp, salty tears breaking their tension across your lashes as they slide down your cheeks in glistening streaks. “I fucking hate you, Jeon Wonwoo.”

Your words carry little weight to them, and Wonwoo is completely aware of this. Almost like he’s trying to placate you, he wipes your tears away with the pads of his thumbs—that hard-eyed gaze weathering into something softer, more sincere with each passing second. 

You abhor how handsome he looks like this.

“Is that your way of telling someone you love them?” he chuckles breathlessly, lips rising to the crown of your head as he presses a soft kiss on top. “If that’s the case, then…”

“I fucking hate you, too.”

Wonwoo isn’t sure how long the two of you have been going at it, but by your fourth orgasm, your newfound lover is yet to be sated.

“Again,” he growls, tugging your limp body closer to his. “Say it again.”

One of the things Wonwoo particularly likes about exploring all sorts of sexual escapades with you is that you teach him things about himself that he never even knew about. 

First was that stupid daddy kink, and now…

“I love you,” you whimper, mindlessly grinding against his still hard cock despite being worn and spent. “I love you, Wonwoo.”

Despite the fact that your honesty drives him to near-insanity, Wonwoo can’t help the relieved sigh that fills his veins every time you utter the words. At first, you stubbornly kept up the act of hating him as he railed you into the mattress, but with every mind-numbing orgasm, your hate slowly bled into love, and Wonwoo finds it fucking cathartic. 

You beat him to what he came over to tell you himself. It was a little embarrassing on his part, he has to admit, but there’s some sort of relief that comes with knowing the same person he’s been vying for also feels the same way.

He’ll tell you the words properly someday.

Maybe not today or tomorrow, but Wonwoo promises that he’ll let you hear how much he adores you soon enough.

For now, he’ll give you one last release.

He’s certain that he can still go one more round, but he can’t really say the same for you. If Wonwoo makes you cream on his cock one more time, he’s afraid you’ll actually pass out from exhaustion. 

So instead, he lays you down on your plush pillows—crawling lower down your body until he finds himself between your legs. He chuckles when you crane your neck weakly to see what he’s trying to do, but Wonwoo is already hooking your thighs over his shoulders before you can say a word.

Your body twitches from oversensitivity as his tongue laves at your ruined cunt—not caring that his own spend has mixed with yours from where the creamy liquid seeps from your hole. Wonwoo groans into your cunt when your thighs squeeze around his head as if meaning to suffocate him with your pussy.

Honestly? If that’s the way he’s gonna go, he’ll accept it with open arms.

“Daddy,” you mewl, fingers tangling in his tousled hair. “I c-can’t anymore…”

Wonwoo suckles at your clit in response, earning himself a high-pitched whine as you roll your hips into his face. For someone who claims she can’t come anymore, you’re awfully eager for him to pinpoint your orgasm again.

“You can, baby,” he insists, peppering your inner thighs with kisses. “You can ‘cause you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” 

He feels your inner muscles clenching at his words, and Wonwoo makes a mental note to praise you more often. You might just like that more than his run-of-the-mill dirty talk after all.

“‘m your good girl,” you babble. “Always daddy’s good girl.”

Fuck. You’re going to be the death of him.

When you’ve recovered from the crest of your final orgasm, Wonwoo carries you to the bathroom and carries you into a bath he’d drawn himself. You complain about how he didn’t set the temperature in the tub right, and Wonwoo promises to do better next time. 

As the two of you soak in the semi-warm water, Wonwoo rests his head against the tiled wall—the fatigue starting to seep into his bones. He doesn’t let himself complain, though, because if he’s feeling spent, he can only imagine how sore you must be feeling. He wonders if he should order some food for the both of you or just let you sleep right away.

“Wonwoo?”

He raises an eyebrow at your meek voice calling out to him. “Yeah?”

You shift a little on his lap, turning around as droopy eyes bore into his. Wonwoo is about to call you out for being weird, but the words evaporate on his tongue when you lean forward to peck his lips. 

“Can I borrow your phone?”

He tilts his head to the side, wondering why you’re asking for his phone. You couldn’t possibly be asking him to film some content here in the tub…right?

Wonwoo watches in complete silence as you open his Twitter app—further feeding into his curiosity. But he doesn’t comment on whatever it is you’re about to do, patiently watching as you maneuver around the accounts logged onto his phone. 

However, when you pull up on the Settings tab of that porn account the two of you have been running for months, scrolling all the way down—

“What are you doing?” he asks as your finger hovers over the ‘Deactivate account’ button.

You glance at him, confused. “I’m getting rid of this account. What else does it look like?”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? I can’t share my sex tapes with the rest of the world now that I have a boyfriend.”

The bathroom falls silent for about three heartbeats before Wonwoo wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. You yelp in surprise, struggling against his iron-tight grip in a way that has water splashing all around you. Wonwoo couldn’t care less, though.

“I love you,” he murmurs into the naked skin of your shoulder. 

You don’t respond for a while, like you’re surprised by his easy admission. But the tension in Wonwoo’s spine unravels when you rest your head across his shoulder, chuckling as you caress his face tenderly.

“Don’t you dare think I’ll let you off the hook though,” you chide. “You’ve got several months of dates to make up for. Just because you took the express lane into being my boyfriend, doesn’t mean you get to skip out on the effort that normally comes with it.”

Wonwoo shakes his head, turning your face so his eyes can meet yours. 

He can’t believe he was stupid enough to run away from his own feelings for an entire month. If only he’d been more honest with both you and himself the last time he was here, he could’ve spent all the weeks after with you cradled in his embrace.

But then again, it’s the choices you both made so far that led you to where you are now.

And for now, he’s perfectly content with that.

“Challenge accepted.”

part one - part two - part three - part four

q: is there going to be a third part? a: yes! however, part 3 is literally just in its early stages of creation. i don't even have a serious doc for it, just a few vague plot bunnies gathering dust in my head SJDFHDFG BUT since i'm feeling generous, attached below is a little sneak peek of what you can expect!

This is, by far, the worst day of Mingyu’s life. Okay, maybe he’s exaggerating, but he likes to think that he’s a man of routine. If he doesn’t get to do his morning rituals right before his streams, it feels like the world has been tilted a few degrees off its proper axis. And that’s exactly what’s happening now, when Mingyu realizes that his favorite Twitter porn account is nowhere to be found.  How the hell is he supposed to get his daily dose of relief now?

aaaaaand that's all i have for now! thank you so much for waiting patiently for this installment! it took me an entire month since i posted the teaser, but here it is hehe :3c i hope you all liked it! do stay tuned for that third part, whenever the hell i can get around to writing it T T

this is part of the game over series!

[dracolilhoe]

Secret Keepers (Severus Snape x Y/n)

Pt.2 -> Secret Keepers

Severus Snape x fem!pregnant!wife!professor

Main Masterlist here -> DracoLilHoe

Harry Potter Fandom Masterlist here -> HP Masterlist

Warnings - Female reader, use of Y/n, mild swearing, Professor reader, mentions of mensurating

Words: +1.5k

Summary: Severus & Y/n have been secretly married for the last few years. Y/n has a hunch that something big is happening, but isn't sure if she should trust her instincts.

If you find mistakes please tell me! I'm not a perfect writer so please just let me know. Happy reading! :)

Just breathe, Y/n. Everything is perfectly fine. I say to myself as I pace around my classroom. You're freaking out over nothing. It's normal for everyone to miss their period sometimes, but two weeks? Maybe I should see Poppy just to be sure. I let out a shaky breath and made my way to the hospital wing, my footsteps echoing in the empty corridors.

"Poppy?" I call as I walk into the Hospital wing. "Hello? Oh! Y/n dear lovely to see you! Is something the matter? You seem distressed." Merlin, this is going to be awkward. "Um… I was wondering if you happened to have a pregnancy test?" Her eyebrows shoot up slightly as she stares at me. "Yes. Yes, I do. Do you need one?" "Yes. That would be great." "Alright, give me a moment." She walks over to her office to fetch the test as I rock back and forth nervously.

The clicking of the heels can be heard a few moments later as she comes back with the test in hand. "The bathroom is just over there," She points over to a door on the far end of the wing. "take all the time you need." She gives me a comforting pat on the back and a soft push forward.

After I do my business I place the test on the bathroom counter face down and wash my hands. I lean against the wall of the bathroom as I gaze at the test. I sigh heavily and rub my eyes. "It's now or never…" I mutter picking up the small stick. I look down and stare at the single pink word.

Positive

"Holy shit. Holy shit," I whisper as the test falls to the floor and my hands fly to my tear-filled eyes. "I'm gonna be a mom… I'm gonna be a mom!" A soft knocking can be heard as a soft voice calls, "Y/n… is everything alright?" I open the door and stare at the older woman in front of me. She glances at my tear-stained cheeks and the test now on the floor. She bends down, picks up the test, and her eyes widen as her mouth falls open. "Dear Merlin," she whispers, "you're pregnant!" I nod as she pulls me into a tight hug. "Congratulations!" She says excitedly as we pull away and she rubs my shoulders softly. "Thank you."

"If you don't mind me asking… who's the father?" I sigh. "Promise me you'll keep it a secret. We'd like to keep our marriage private." "Marriage!?" "Poppy! Promise me!" "Okay, okay I promise." "It's Severus." "What!?" "Keep your voice down will ya! Someone could be walking by." Poppy sighs, "Damnit, I owe Minerva and Pomona 10 galleons." "Excuse me? What do you mean you owe them galleons!?" "Um… well me, Albus, Minnie, Fillius, Hagrid, and Pomona bet on whether you and Severus would end up together. Minnie and Pomona said you would and the rest of us said you wouldn't. We were clearly wrong."

"Poppy!" A voice calls from the entrance to the hospital wing. Poppy turns around to find Minerva with a puzzled expression on her face. Minerva glances at my tear-stained face and then the test in Poppy's hand. "Y/n, are you alright?" "Never better, Minnie." Minerva walks over and takes the test from Poppy's hand. "Y/n, you're pregnant?! Who's the father? When did this happen?" "Minnie!" "What! I'm just curious!" "Okay, first off the father is Sev," she gasps and I roll my eyes, "Second, I know you guys bet on us." She laughs nervously. "No hard feelings, right?" I sigh and shake my head. "No hard feelings," she lets out a breath and laughs nervously, "But I want 20%."

"Y/nnn," she whines "Pleaseee don't do this" "Hand it over girl." I giggle as she pouts her lip but hands me some money from her pocket. "Thank you." I place the money in my back pocket as well as the test Minerva handed back to me. "When are you going to tell Severus?" Poppy asks as the three of us walk toward the entrance to the wing. My face falls slightly as I fidget with my fingers. "Probably after dinner," I whisper nervously. "Don't be nervous! Everything will be fine!" Minerva says as she pulls me into a motherly embrace. I sigh and hug her back. "Thank you, Minnie." "I should probably get going. My next class starts soon," I glance down at my watch. "I'll see you two at dinner." "Good luck, Y/n!" They say as I make my way back to my classroom.

**Dinner**

I head to the Great Hall and enter through the large doors. Walking up to the broad table at the far end of the hall taking a seat next to Severus. "Hello, love," I whisper. A smile appears on his face as he gives me a quick glance. I hear giggling and glance to my left to see Minerva and Poppy smirking at me. I roll my eyes as I place some food on my plate. "So, how was your day, Severus?" Severus gives me a confused look as he side-eyes the girls. "The usual. Gave Potter a detention this evening" I nod not really paying attention to what he is saying, "Severus, I was wondering if I could speak to you after dinner. It's urgent." His eyebrows furrow in confusion, but he nods.

Once dinner is finished Severus stands up and heads towards his office. I watch him as he goes and feel my body heat up from the nerves. "So, have you told him yet?" A voice asks from behind me. I jump and let out a small squeal. "Minnie! What the bloody hell!" "Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you! I was just curious." "No. I haven't told him yet. I'm going to go tell him right now." "Okay! Good luck, Y/n!" I nod as I stand up and begin walking to his office. "You better name it after me!" She calls. I laugh and answer back, "You wish!" A few students and staff members who are still present in the hall exchange glances with each other as they stare at me and Minerva.

I begin heading down the stairs toward the dungeons. The cold atmosphere making me shiver. I reach the door to Sev's office and softly tap my knuckles against the dark wood. "Severus?" "Enter." Says the cold monotone voice of my dear husband. I open the door leaving it slightly ajar and am met with the familiar smell of parchment and books. I glance up to see my husband sitting at his desk with a quill in hand and papers scattered on his desk. His cold eyes meet mine but soften instantly. "Hey, love. You wanted to talk about something?" I nod. He pushes his chair back and pats his lap. "Come."

I walk over and straddle him my hands moving to play with his hair. (Something he will never admit to liking out loud.) He moves his hands to draw small circles on my thighs. "Speak." "Well, I went to see Poppy this morning and-" "What? Why? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" He asks as he caresses my cheek. "Sev! Let me finish," He sighs, "Go on." "To answer your question I'm perfectly fine. I just haven't um… well… I haven't gotten my period for almost three weeks. I just got worried so I went to Poppy," He raises his eyebrows slightly but doesn't interrupt. "I asked her for a test and she gave me one," I reach into my back pocket and pull out the test handing it to him.

He takes the test from my hands and turns it around to stare at the pink word against the small screen. "You're… You're pregnant?" He whispers as he looks up at me. I nod as tears fill my eyes. He pulls me into a tight hug as he kisses my head. "I can't believe it… we're gonna have a baby." I look up at his shocked face and giggle as we pull apart. "Is that why Minerva and Poppy were acting weird?" I lay my head on his shoulder. "Yeah. They both found out about us this morning. Did you know they placed a bet on us?" "They did, did they," he says as he kisses my forehead and begins running his fingers through my hair. "As much as I would love to hold you for the rest of the evening… Mr. Potter has a detention… and should be arriving soon." I sigh and get off his lap as he stands up and pulls me into his chest. "I love you, darling, I'll come see you tonight." He leans down for a loving kiss. I smile and walk over to the door as he sits back down at his desk. "Love you!" I say as I begin to make my way back to my chambers.

Unbeknownst to both of us Harry had been listening through the crack in the door and knew everything. He wouldn't tell anyone, right?

It's the bloody dungeon bat for crying out loud!

Of course, he would!

Breakfast should be interesting tomorrow…

Pt.2 -> Secret Keepers

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[everyonewooeverywhere]

ANYWAYS

“fuckkk baby don’t do this to me…” he groans from his spot on your bed behind you.

you’d think after four long years together mingi’d be able to watch you change without popping a boner, but it seems some things just never change. especially when you pull those little shorts over your ass, giggling at the needy man behind you.

you playfully roll you eyes at him, throwing a t-shirt from the ground on before turning around to him, “can you go two seconds without being so fucking horny?”

he shakes his head, biting his lip and looking you up and down, “not when you look so sexy in everything.”

you cringe at his corniness, but it doesn’t stop you from kneeling onto the bed, slowly crawling to him. your eyes not-so-subtly raking over his body. fuck you needed him inside you again.

you climb into his lap and place your hands on his shoulders. his hands immediately find your ass, fingers sliding under your shorts and feeling you up as much as he knows he can get away with.

pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you start fiddling with one of the silver chain around his neck. lightly tugging at it with your finger and running the metal along your skin.

his hands pull your closer to him, pulling your hips directly on top of his. and you can feel brush of the growing bulge in his gray sweats up against your clit. he helps you roll your hips with his. the friction makes you moan softly.

with his help, you keep grinding on him. you can feel how wet you are by the way your panties stick to you every time you lift your hips.

he looks at you with those big eyes that could convince your of anything, “let me help you, baby.” his voice is low and hoarse, like it’s taking everything in him not to nut in his pants right now. he slides a and into the front of your shorts and loops a finger under the front of your panties. he pulls the front up, making them tight against your clit.

immediately, the pressure makes you whine. “minnie…”

he chuckle, “hold on baby” he lifts his hips to meet yours and lets out a choked cough when his cock presses into his sweatpants, “shit—come on angel keep going.”

the tight pressure of your panties against your clit combined with the friction of his hard cock makes you dizzy. you have one hand bracing yourself on his chest, the other one is tangled in his hair. pulling at the dark stands.

you keep grinding against each other. whimpering and moaning into each other’s mouths. every circle of your hips has you closer and closer until you feel yourself right there.

“minnie i’m so close…”

“fuck me too, baby,” he kisses your shoulder, “come on, pretty. come with me. make yourself come. i’ve got you. minnie’s got you, baby.”

as if you we meant for each other in every way, you come together at the same time. your bodies crumpling into each other with heavy breathing. you tremble on top of him as he grips your thighs with all his strength.

“fuck you’re so perfect, baby,” he breaths against you lips, “so fucking perfect.” you both jolt with pleasure when he shifts his hips against yours again, just to prove his point.

[dwaekkicidal]

Day 7

˚ʚKim Seungmin x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Day 7 of my 1K follower celebration! Today is exhibitionism with Seungmin ♡

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, nicknames used: pup & pretty (girl), exhibitionism, fingering, squirting mentions, rough sex, (1) hair pull, mention of partner sharing at the end

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: i lowkey wrote this with max in mind LMFAO posting this a little early just for funsies :3 <3

Read the other days here!

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Your head spins as the fingers inside you speed up. Seungmin’s free hand held your thigh open, giving the younger boy in the room the perfect view of his fingers working you open. Said younger boy was a few feet from you, kneeling on the bed and closely watching every move his best friend did to you.

“You have to curve them upwards towards her belly button. There’s a spot there that feels reaaal good.” Jeongin watches with red cheeks as the older boy’s arm flexes and your moans suddenly become pitched. “If you do it enough, some girls will even squirt.”

You faintly see him push down on the pillow in his lap, probably due to the squelching noises from between your legs getting even louder. It’s obvious that he’s hard given the situation, but he’s so shy about it that he can’t bring himself to let either of you see just yet. So, instead, he just nods quietly and continues to stare where the now three fingers enter you over and over again.

“M-Minnie…” He shushes you and places a kiss on your cheek, smiling at the way your legs tremble. “Yeah? You’re close, pretty girl?” You moan out a pathetic ‘uh-huh’ and both boys shiver, feeling themselves get even harder in their shorts. Your boyfriend doubles his efforts, angling his wrist so that his fingers constantly rub over your g-spot as he scissors them against your walls. “Cum for us baby. Show Jeongin-ah how pretty you are when you cum.” 

Jeongin moans lowly at the mention of his name but forces his eyes open to watch your body shake. As you start to cum, free legs manage to close over Seungmin’s hands and slow his efforts almost to a complete stop. Jeongin panics and shoots his hand out, tightly grabbing the fat of both of your thighs and spreading you wide. “F-Fuck, please don’t. I want to see everything. You look so hot...” He watches with parted lips as you squeeze tightly around your boyfriend's fingers and throw your head back.

He fixes his posture and pins your leg to your chest as you cum more, moaning so prettily for them. Seungmin’s fingers slow as he rides out your high until he eventually pulls them out. He teasingly runs his soaked fingers over your clit, making you moan and push his hand away in sensitivity. He laughs and pulls you into a kiss, completely removing his hand from between your legs.

While you two slowly make out, Jeongin stares at your pussy in awe, watching the way you glisten from your cum and clench around nothing. He subconsciously licks his lips and tries to hide the action from you guys, but Seungmin has already seen it. After a few seconds of letting you breathe, Seungmin nudges you to open your eyes. When you do, you're met with the sight of him shoving his fingers into Jeongin’s mouth, the younger boy’s eyes fluttering closed as he sucks the digits.

Seungmin chuckles at the both of you: the way you moan loudly at his best friend licking your cum from his fingers and the way his best friend licked those same fingers until they were completely clean, not letting a single drop go to waste. He pulls his fingers out and grabs your shoulder, moving you to a new position.

“Next lesson.”

He’d been fucking into you slowly for the last few minutes in missionary, teaching Jeongin about slow lovemaking. It was vital! If he was gonna help Jeongin learn in-depth about sex and pleasuring somebody, he wanted to show the boy every possibility. But he also knew all too well that it wasn’t enough for you, so he quickly changed the ‘topic’ of the lesson to rough fucking. Which led to your current position: bent over almost completely folded.

He has you doggy style with a hand between your shoulder blades, keeping your face and chest shoved in the sheets. His hips never let up once as he choked out pointers to Jeongin. You stopped paying attention the second he sped up, so you can’t be bothered to chip in or listen to what he’s telling the boy.

Not like you’re given the chance to anyway. Not when a hand slips into your hair, tangling its fingers between the strands to pull you up. The hand on your back moves to your hip while the other puts your drooling face on display for Jeongin. Seungmin knows you’re close and he takes advantage of it.

This whole situation wasn’t just about teaching Jeongin how to please a girl like you all had agreed on. As egotistical as it might be, it was also an excuse for him to show off to the younger boy. Showing him how well he could fuck you and get you creaming around him while the others were still single.

And he did so wrapping his pretty, still damp, fingers around your throat and squeezing until you tightened around him. He speeds up his thrusts, growling against your temple as he pounds into you. “C’mon, pup. Be a good girl and cum for us again, okay?” Jeongin’s dick twitches and he slaps a hand over his mouth to hold back a moan. He watches you nod, looking up at your boyfriend with teary eyes as the two of you hold an unreadable gaze with each other. One that only lasts for a few seconds before both of his hands move to your waist, pushing you back into the mattress and holding you down as he tears your pussy up.

You cum very shortly after, squeezing around him tightly and triggering his orgasm. Seungmin groans and cums inside of you, riding out both of your highs with sharp and slow, but still rough, thrusts. When he finally pulls out, your hole is clenching around nothing and dripping with your combined releases. Seungmin pulls Jeongin closer, allowing him a better angle to see you. He even lets the boy stick a finger against your folds only to push his cum back inside. Your legs squeeze together and you whine when Jeongin's fingers ghost over your folds, over your clit, then slowly up your tummy.

“Ayen’s turn. Right, pretty?”

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