#sigh i miss the eyebrow piercing

[cosmicdreamgrl]

𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘫𝘬 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴: (107/?)┃𝘤𝘳: 0613𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘢

[7s3ven]

FILE LOADING. TF 141 x hacker! Reader, pt 1

( full master list) (intro to this series)

IN WHICH… you needed a way to lessen your prison sentence and TF 141 needed an efficient hacker… as well as someone to spoil.

Notes: hacker! Reader, reader has a criminal background, reader has piercings, tattoos + tooth gems

A/N: first cod series finally lol… please like this post guys, I finished it right after I slipped while practising a taekwondo kick and body slammed into the tiled floor 😭.

—

The air inside your prison cell was muggy and overall unpleasant, causing beads of sweat to form on your forehead as you fanned your face.

The pathetic excuse for a window was not helping, letting only a small amount of oxygen enter the tiny room.

In all honesty, you weren’t treated as badly as other prisoners. A coworker of yours had pulled some strings the moment you were arrested, which meant you got better food and some perks.

But as always, life in jail still sucked.

You were too busy staring at the blank wall in front of you to notice the metal door keeping you locked up was now creaking open.

“Get up.” The warden harshly nudged your shoulder, barely giving you a moment to compose yourself. Your hands were yanked behind your back, the cool metal handcuffs digging painfully into your soft skin.

Your jaw clenched as you were dragged down the dimly lit hallway. You knew better than to ask questions as they would not be answered. All you could do was walk in the direction the warden shoved you in.

The breeze from the well-ventilated interrogation room was the first thing to hit you as you entered. You arched an eyebrow at the woman sitting at the table, her hands gracefully clasped together.

“And you are?” You didn’t recognise her as you slumped into the seat across from her, purposely sending the warden a biting glare.

“I’m Kate Laswell, a CIA operative.” She didn’t waste time before she spoke, leaning forward to catch your attention.

Your lip peeled back into a sneer, “The worst kind of people.”

She ignored your jab. “I’ve come here to give you an offer. You see, SAS is in need of a hacker and I’m told you’re the best fit for the job.” You watch as she opens a slim folder, spreading out the images for your careful gaze to study. They’re printouts of your exploits, files nobody was supposed to obtain. You had deleted your digital footprint after hacking databases, you were sure of it.

“You’re good. Too good to waste in a cell." You hear her softly sigh.

“I did what I did. The justice system isn’t so flattered by my ability to retrieve their sensitive information. Plus, I did murder someone… a few people, actually. So in all honesty, this isn’t an unfair punishment.” You leaned back in the uncomfortable chair, crossing one leg over the other.

“We are well aware of your long record.” Laswell sends you a pointed look. You merely grin, your canine teeth glinting in the light.

“Did you see my arson report?” Your lips spread into a grin, “Because that’s the best one. Set an ex-boyfriend’s car on fire and it just lit up. It was great. You should read it sometime.”

Laswell cleared her throat, reminding you of the situation at hand. “As I was saying, I can lift your jail sentence with a click of my fingers but only if you agree to work for me.”

“Thought I was working for SAS.” You interrupted.

“You’ll work for an elite team called Task Force 141… but you’ll answer to me. I give you the orders.”

“And the catch of this job?”

Laswell’s lips curve into a faint smile. “This is not a job offer, Miss L/N, it is a uniquely presented opportunity. You will get no pay for your services. The reward it reaps, however, is greater.”

You paused for a second. What could possibly be better than money?

“Freedom.” As if reading your mind, Laswell spoke again. “If you do this, you’ll be free before next year. This is possibly your only shot at freedom, do not throw it away. If you stay locked up here, you’ll only rot while the world keeps spinning.”

Now she had your attention. “You must be desperate if you wanna hire me.” A chuckle slipped past your lips but it was mainly to ease the awkward tension that had settled. “What would the job include?” You tilted your head, subtly shifting forward to hint your interest.

“You’ll be working alongside Task Force 141, giving them intel on possible threats and making their jobs easier by gaining access to classified information. I hear you don’t work well with other people but really, what choice do you have?”

Her words prodded at you and the teasing smile on her face aggravated you but she was right. You had no other choice.

The room was silent as you weighed out your choices. The walls seemed to close in on you, a stark difference to the freedom you were promised mere moments ago.

“So I risk my life for this so-called elite team… and in return I get some vague promises of freedom? Smells like bullshit. You lot will probably stab me in the back.” You scoffed.

“You’ve already painted a bright red target on your back. It’s only a matter of time before people realise you’re worth more dead than alive. With us, you’ll have protection. And a purpose.”

Laswell stood up, pushing her chair back with deliberate calmness. The legs scraped against the concrete floor as she did so. “Make no mistake, L/N, people like you don’t simply disappear. Someone will come for you… someone who wants your head on a stick.” Her words hung heavily in the air.

There was a flicker of fear in your eyes and like a feral predator, she ate it up.

“Okay.” You slowly murmured. She had convinced her with her carefully concealed threats. “I’ll do it.”

Laswell smirks. "Good. Pack your things. Your new team will be picking you up in an hour.”

—

The loud roar of the helicopter blades filled the air as you stepped onto the tarmac, shielding your eyes against the bright sun. You rubbed your aching wrists, clicking your tongue at the bruises the tight handcuffs had left.

A few soldiers are waiting for you into the chopper, their silhouettes barely visible through the dark tinted windows.

“Couldn’t just send a car?” You grumbled as you climbed into the helicopter. Laswell followed close behind, unbothered and seemingly used to such a commotion.

“Always for the theatrics, John.” She jokes with the man sitting across from her, eyes crinkling as she grins.

You glance at the man’s name tag, reading Captain John Price. He’s handsome… for a man his age. In a ruggish and rough sort of way. A cloud of smoke slips past his lips as he calmly puffs on a cigar, not at all caring how the chopper unsteadily tilts to the side.

“This the hacker? That pretty ‘lil lass over there?” A voice, thick with a Scottish accent, cuts through the silence. Your eyes dart to stare at the burly man with a Mohawk as he looks you up and down. “Thought the hacker was a bloke. Ain’t complainin’ though.”

You stiffen at the comment, running your tongue over your top row of teeth. It unintentionally gives him a view of your shiny tooth gems. “Thought you lot were an elite crew. Y’all don’t fact check?” You lean back into the cushioned seat. It’s surprisingly comfortable, much better than the stone-hard mattress back in your cell.

The Scot laughs, unbothered. “She’s got bite. I like ‘er. Name’s John McTavish but most call me Jonny. You can call me Soap if ya want.”

You sarcastically laugh. “Soap? What kind of muppet name is that? You had a reputation for eating soap as a kid?”

Soap’s eyes light up, not what you were expecting with your insult. “Ay! The cap’n said the same thing! Called me a muppet too!”

“You still are.” Someone chimes in from the front. You didn’t even realize there were two more people squeezed in to the seats in front of the controls.

The one in the passenger seat turns around, smiling. With his soft brown eyes and gentle features, you can’t help but find him pretty.

“Y/N L/N, right? Nice to meet you. I’m Kyle Garrick.” His voice has a slight British accent to it. “This is Ghost next to me.” He jabs a thumb at the man wearing a skull mask who’s doing a poor job at steering the helicopter.

“Ghost?” You question, “What sort of name is that?”

“Simon Riley.” Ghost grunts out. His British accent is somewhat aggressive, evident in every syllable he barks out.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. For some reason, he annoys you. It’s more like the way he’s looking at you through the eye-level mirror.

The chopper shakes again. You watch as Kyle grasps his seat, his grip so tight it almost cracks the delicate leather. “Sorry.” Simon gruffly replies.

You raise an eyebrow, leaning forward. “What’s up with him?” You nod your head in Kyle’s direction.

“Fell out the bloody helicopter when Ghost was last flying.” Kyle replies. You almost laugh. It’s not something that should be amusing but your lips quirk into a small grin.

“So… does this whole arrangement cover my food and accommodation?” You question, suddenly aware of how hungry you are. Laswell slips out a small folder, handing it to you.

“Your accomodation will be one of our safe houses twenty minutes away from base. We considered having you live on the base itself but socialising isn’t part of your job. You’ll be living with the Task Force to ensure you don’t run. And all your costs will be covered. You will be given an allowance for your own expenses such as impulsive purchases.”

“Thought you said I got no money.”

“Once you have completed what is necessary, you will no longer have access to the allowance.” Laswell clarifies.

“And I walk free.”

Laswell nods, “Then you are free to go. If needed, CIA will pay to transfer you to another country so you can start anew. Most do not get second chances, L/N, so be careful.”

You lick your cracked lips, aimlessly playing with the hem of your oversized shirt. Maybe you could go to Europe; it had been a little dream of yours as a kid.

“Should go to Scotland, lass.” Jonny pipes up above the loud helicopter blades.

“London’s better.” Simon retorts, “Can actually understand what they’re saying.”

“What about Korea?” Kyle butts in.

“You aren’t even Korean.” Jonny argues back, lightly scoffing.

“Yeah, but I wanna go. Is that a crime, Soap?”

Their pointless bickering was comforting in a way. You had spent the last few years of your life locked away, isolated most of the time and alone. It was nice listening to people talk again.

Simon landed the helicopter with surprising grace, being the first to unbuckle his seatbelt and jump out. Kyle was next. Laswell unlocked the sliding door, stepping aside to allow you to slip past first.

You merely stared at her before muttering a tense thanks.

“Watch your step.” Kyle warned you as he held out a hand to steady you.

“It’s literally three feet. I can manage.” You snap back, effortlessly stepping out of the chopper. Jonny lightly chuckled while Kyle slowly withdrew.

“Feisty.” Kyle muttered.

You stared up at the safe house, tilting your head. “It’s… cute.” You hummed. It was a cottage, not the first thing you expected as a safe house.

“Were the pink roses your idea, Riley?” You joked, pointing at the pretty flowers.

He grunts, a sound you’ve suddenly become familiar with. “I prefer Ghost.” He corrects you.

You shrug. “Used to call inmates by their last name. Helped me ignore them when they tried hitting on me in the early years of prison.” You stepped forward onto the stone cobble path, admiring it.

“A small cottage… bet this is a military dream, huh?” You kicked a pebble.

“It is, actually.” Jonny pipes up, “It’s every man’s dream to retire in a cute little house with a pretty lass.”

You lightly scoffed, “I ain’t here to play work wife, McTavish. Can’t even cook.”

“Thank goodness we have Gaz then.” Jonny retorts, “Bloke should be a chef if this career doesn’t work out.”

You take a moment to study the house and its surroundings while the others file through the door. There’s a small white Pickett fence wrapped around the land, bright green blades of grass wrapping around the neatly painted wood.

The cottage is clearly old but well renovated. Rows of vines adorn the side, a surprisingly aesthetic sight. There’s a garden filled with sweetly smelling flowers and the same pink roses sitting at your feet are also perched on top of the porch.

The windows are the favourite aspect of yours. They decorate the stone walls, a sharp gothic detail to them.

It’s almost too pretty for a criminal like you.

“You comin’ in?” It’s Kyle who notices your absence, peeking his head past the doorway. For a moment, he thought you had made a run for it but he was relieved to find you standing among the garden.

You clear your throat, pulling at the bottom of your shirt. “Yeah.” You step onto the rickety porch, the wood creaking under your weight.

The interior of the house is so different from your tiny cell. Walking past the door almost feels like walking into an entirely new life.

Jonny is scavenging through the fridge, pulling out a tall bottle of beer. “Want some?” He offers it to you.

“I can’t drink, warden’s orders.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“It’s just a beer, can’t hurt ya. ‘Sides, you ain’t in jail no more.” Jonny insists, shaking the bottle. It’s tempting but on instinct, you glance at Laswell.

She’s sitting beside Price, talking to him in a hushed tone and going over a file, presumably one containing details about you.

“I ain’t stopping you from drinking, kid.” Laswell says, feeling your stare on her face.

Hesitantly, you snatch the bottle from Jonny, popping the lid open with practised precision. You haven’t tasted beer, or any other alcohol for that matter, in a long time. You’ve never liked beer… but the first burning sip feels heavenly.

“You got any vodka?” You ask, glancing into the top cupboards.

“Do we look Russian? Nah, can barely drink that shit straight.” Jonny’s face scrunches up at the thought.

“Bourbon then.” Your words catch Simon’s attention.

Jonny grins as he reaches up, grasping a fancy-looking bottle. “Only other person here who likes bourbon is the LT. Guess he isn’t alone anymore.” He pours you a glass, handing it to you in exchange for your bottle of beer.

“Don’t understand how you lot can stand beer. Too bitter for my liking.” You mutter, pacing around the room.

You hear Simon quietly hum in agreement. “Finally someone smart.”

COD TAGLIST (comment to be added/removed): @jenepleurepasbaby @rm25711 @talia-the-gemini @margaaaa30 @mixplara @alex—awesome—22

@lunamoonbby @little-b33 @ghostswife-8 @tea-drinking-nerd @certainlygay @lucienofthelakes @supaturtl3 @pr3ttypupp4 @royalz658 @whoreforfictionalmen18 @ashy-akuma @1bucky-barnes-wife1 @chloepluto1306 @voguiing @eyeless-kun @joshwashingtonmybeloved @fuzzyducky3 @childishname @angel-bugz @kee-0-kee @undercover-smutlover @10honeybee01 @kat247 @munson24 @sweetlittleblackrose @babybimbo777 @wfinniegenx @galactict3a @hyperfixatedcatlover @creepumiku @yoontoons @moraxnomora @1ckyfairy @lunerbitch @tizylish

[tfwbluu]

PAIRING — ni-ki + f!reader + jungwon

WARNINGS — 8th member!reader, hints of reader having smth with all of them, some mentions of reader’s appearance but i tried to keep it friendly for everyone, heejay cameo, blindfolds and cuffs again, threesome, oral (f. rec), raw sex (wrap it up), squirting, cum eating(?), double penetration (mouth + hole), edging, pet names, praise/degradation.

WORDCOUNT — 3.3K

NOTE — this was long overdue but it’s here! not beta read so sorry if it’s a bit wonky (not intentional). lots of warnings on this one so lmk if i missed anything !

It was another day of recording, this time for one of your b-sides, Brought the Heat Back. The concept was intense, and all of you were adorned in scratches and faux blood to match the gritty, rebellious aesthetic. You were dressed in an off-shoulder dress shirt held up by thin white straps, a loosely draped tie wrapped around your neck, flared jeans, and black short heels—only for the shoot, of course.

Your hair had been left mostly untouched, styled as you usually wore it, with the addition of a few silver accessories glinting under the lights. Your look was completed with simple hoops in your ears and fake snakebite piercings on your lower lip, which you kept fiddling with absentmindedly as you waited for the next take.

“(Name) got some cool lip piercings over mine being scratched up,” Jay suddenly commented, drawing the camera’s attention to you.

“Hm?” You looked up before leaning toward the camera with a playful smile. “Look, everyone, I got these piercings recently!” you joked, puckering your lips for emphasis.

Jay snorted, playing along. “I got hurt while eating, so I couldn’t get those.” He gestured toward the fake scratches on his face. “And I banged my head on a door while rushing to not be late!” He nodded to himself, satisfied with his joke, while you giggled softly.

The day carried on as usual, taking shots here and there while filming for the behind-the-scenes content. The shoot wrapped up smoothly, with everyone exchanging the customary “Good jobs” and words of gratitude. You sank into the couch with a satisfied sigh, the exhaustion from the day settling in, while the others began scattering to do their own thing.

As you leaned back, you felt a lingering gaze on you. Looking up, your eyes locked with Jungwon’s. He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable but intense. Raising an eyebrow, you silently asked what he wanted.

“Meet me in my room later,” Jungwon murmured softly as he passed by, his voice low enough that only you could hear. His words sent a ripple of curiosity and nervousness through you, but you nodded in agreement without hesitation.

Later that evening, back at the dorms, Jungwon wasted no time. The moment you entered his room, he closed the door behind you and pressed you against it, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss.

“Mmph—Won, w-wait—” you tried to speak, your words muffled against his lips. But Jungwon simply grunted in response, his hands gripping your waist tightly as his body molded against yours.

“I can’t,” he whispered hoarsely, his lips trailing down to your jaw before returning to your mouth, his kisses growing more desperate. “I’ve been holding back for so long, watching you with those lip piercings of yours.”

His thumb brushed against your lips, as he took a moment to look at you. “Please,” he murmured, his voice soft yet pleading. His gaze was fixated on your lips, the intensity in his eyes making your heart race.

A knock on the door made both of you flinch.

“Hyung, is Noona with you in there?” Riki’s voice rang from behind the door.

“What’s up, Riki?” you responded quickly, pushing Jungwon away slightly as you tried to tidy up your appearance.

“Can I come in? Need to give you something,” Riki replied, waiting for permission.

“Go ahead, Ki,” Jungwon muttered reluctantly, turning his back to the door to hide the growing tension in his pants. His annoyance was clear, though he tried to mask it. Meanwhile, you did your best to make yourself look presentable.

Riki stepped inside, holding a handful of snacks. “Got you these, Noona. You said you’d been craving them, right?” he said, handing them to you with a small smile.

“Oh! Yeah, thanks, Riki,” you replied, beaming in gratitude.

“Also, Hyung,” Riki added with a smirk, “if you’re gonna make out with someone, at least move away from the door. It’s obvious.”

Both you and Jungwon froze, snapping your heads toward him.

“Ha-ha, don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jungwon muttered, feigning ignorance.

“Yes, you do,” Riki shot back. “It’s obvious you like Noona. I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

Jungwon’s jaw tightened, but before he could retort, Riki continued, his voice tinged with playful defiance. “I know that because I like her too, Hyung.”

Your head darted between the two of them, the tension in the room so thick it was almost suffocating. You set down the snacks Riki had brought you, your hands slightly trembling.

“Well… what now?” you asked nervously, your voice barely above a whisper. Both of their heads snapped toward you at the same time, their intense gazes locking onto you, making your cheeks flush as you quickly averted your eyes.

Perhaps it was instinct or an unspoken agreement between the two because, within moments, Jungwon pulled you into his embrace and kissed you deeply, his hands gripping your waist with firm possessiveness. Before you could fully process it, you felt a warm chest press against your back—Riki’s.

“Stop being so greedy, Hyung,” Riki grumbled, pulling you away from Jungwon with a frown.

“Just say you’re jealous I got to her first,” Jungwon taunted, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

“You wish. You’re delusional if you think you’ve won—Noona and I kissed long before you two did, which means I’m better,” Riki shot back, his pride shining through every word.

Jungwon’s smirk faltered briefly before he proposed, “Why don’t we let her decide?”

Both of their gazes locked onto you, making your cheeks burn as you tried to hide your face behind your hands.

“You two…” you mumbled, your voice small and flustered beyond belief.

“Can’t we show you who’s better at treating you, pretty?” Riki asked, his voice soft as he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to, Princess,” Jungwon murmured, pulling your hands from your face to press a tender kiss on your forehead. “Don’t feel pressured. Just say the word, and we’ll stop.”

“Yeah, Noona,” Riki added, his tone gentle. “We can wait. It’s your call.”

You stayed silent for a moment, your mind racing. Being the only woman in the group had its challenges—and its perks. This wasn’t the first time you’d kissed one of your members, but this situation was entirely different. As much as you wanted to deny the offer, the slick heat between your thighs betrayed you.

“Maybe… if you treat me well,” you finally said, your voice soft as you broke the tension, agreeing to their offer.

“Of course,” Jungwon replied smoothly, his tone gentle yet firm. “But first…”

Jungwon guided the three of you into a quiet discussion, his words careful and measured. He ensured everything was clear, setting boundaries and understanding your comfort level before anything else. The conversation was brief but reassuring, leaving you with a sense of ease.

It didn’t take long for things to escalate afterward. Now, you found yourself perched on Riki’s lap at the edge of the bed, his lips pressing against yours in a fiery, hungry kiss. Meanwhile, Jungwon’s soft shuffling filled the background as he rummaged through a drawer. “Just grabbing the necessities,” he muttered with a low chuckle, amusement lacing his tone.

Breaking the kiss, Riki’s lips moved down your body, leaving feather-light kisses on your neck. “Remember, you’re in control, angel. Just tell us if anything is too much,” Riki reassured, his lips now suckling on your neck.

When he found your sensitive spot, a small moan escaped your lips. “Oh, here?” Riki teased, sucking a bit harder on your skin.

“That tickles...” you muttered, squirming slightly away. Suddenly, your vision was obstructed—a blindfold covering your eyes.

“W-what’s this...?” you asked, your voice unsteady.

Jungwon was quick to respond, his voice smooth and teasing. “Guessing game, princess. You’ll have to figure out who’s touching you, kissing you, and fucking you. Get it right, and you’ll be rewarded. Get it wrong...” he trailed off, his hands roaming slowly down your body before settling on your breasts, squeezing and kneading until a soft moan slipped from your lips. “And you don’t get to cum until you do.”

“We’ll take care of you, angel. Just relax,” Riki murmured near your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. His deft fingers began unbuttoning your shirt, and Jungwon, working in unison, slipped it off with ease before unhooking your bra. Within moments, you were left in just your bottoms. Jungwon’s hands quickly found your wrists, and before you could register what was happening, the soft click of cuffs secured your hands behind you.

“No touching, no seeing, baby. Just guess. You can do that, right?” Jungwon whispered, pulling you off Riki’s lap. He moved you to the couch in the middle of the room, propping your legs up. “Can I take them off?” his voice asked gently.

You nodded, letting out a soft, “Please.” He slid off your pants and panties in one motion, exposing your soaked core to the cool air.

The rustle of clothing in the background caught your attention as you breathed in anticipation. “Can one of you please just touch me alread—ah~!” you yelped as soft lips pressed against your folds, teasing your thighs as hands spread your legs. You couldn’t even tell who was doing it, but you were already moaning in need.

“Please, just do it already...” you whined, bucking your hips. A soft chuckle echoed before a tongue started leaving kitten licks on your wet folds. “Mhm, right there...” you sighed in relief.

They moved to suck on your clit, spreading your folds with their fingers before pushing them in. A loud scream escaped your lips, only to be muffled by a hand from behind you.

“Fuhhhghk...” you cursed against the hand, the one between your legs now curling their fingers inside your dripping pussy while teasing your clit with their tongue.

The man behind you toyed with your nipples, pinching and stroking them with one hand while keeping your sounds muffled with the other. Despite knowing the room was soundproof, you couldn’t help but wonder why he silenced you—until his fingers prodded your lips. Obediently, you opened your mouth, sucking on them as drool coated his fingers while he thrust them gently.

Wet lewd noises filled the room—the sound of your moans, your juices, and their synchronized movements blending together. The knot in your stomach tightened, making your hips buck against their tongue. The one behind you removed his fingers from your mouth, using your own drool to coat your nipples before playing with them softly.

Despite the blindfold obscuring your vision, you started piecing things together. The fingers working inside you felt slightly shorter than the ones that had been in your mouth. Leaning your head back slightly, you felt the firm outline of abs behind you, hinting at his height and build.

The sensations overwhelmed you, your moans growing louder as your release drew near. Desperate, you made a guess. “Please, Won… fuck… c-close!” you whimpered, his name falling from your lips in desperation.

“Good girl...” Jungwon’s voice confirmed your guess as he worked faster, his tongue and fingers driving you toward your peak.

“Jungwon…!” you cried out, trembling.

“I know, baby. Let go f’ me,” he murmured, watching intently as you finally let go, your body twitching uncontrollably before you squirted.

He immediately lapped up your juices, savoring the moment as he cleaned you up, leaving a soft kiss on your folds before pulling away with a satisfied hum.

“You can take a few more, right?” Riki said, his voice low and teasing as he pulled your head back for a heated kiss before slipping away from behind you, leaving you panting and trembling from the aftermath of your high.

The room was silent except for the rustling of movement and your ragged breathing. Your body trembled, overly sensitive, every nerve alight and begging for relief. Suddenly, your legs were lifted, propped against strong shoulders, the action sending a fresh wave of anticipation coursing through you.

A familiar pressure followed—a thick, hard tip tapping lightly against your clit, dragging along your slick folds in slow, teasing strokes before pausing at your entrance.

A whine escaped your lips at the unbearable sensitivity. Without warning, the head pushed in, stretching you inch by inch until they were fully seated inside. They started moving immediately, their thrusts slow and deliberate, dragging every nerve along your walls and leaving you gasping.

“Fuck… yes, yes, right there—hngh…” you babbled incoherently, the stretch filling you so perfectly it made your head spin. They weren’t especially long, but their girth was sinful, every stroke pulling you deeper into the haze.

The lack of sight amplified everything—every sound, every touch, every sensation. Your wrists strained against the cuffs, but there was no escape from the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. Their pace picked up, hips snapping into yours, the wet sounds of skin meeting skin echoing through the room, mingling with your cries. The knot in your stomach tightened, the pressure building rapidly, but just as you teetered on the edge of release, they pulled out abruptly.

“No—please!” you cried, your voice raw and desperate as the emptiness left you shaking.

Laughter, low and teasing, sounded on either side of you. Their voices followed, disorienting you further as they whispered in unison, one voice in your left ear, the other in your right.

“You have to guess, baby,” one murmured, his tone sultry and amused.

“Guess it right, and maybe we’ll both reward you,” the other added, his voice a breathy tease.

Hands roamed your body, stroking, squeezing, teasing, but their touches were indistinguishable. The anticipation was maddening, your body twitching with every featherlight caress.

“Who was it, angel?” one asked, the whisper brushing against your ear, the heat of his breath making you shiver.

“Think carefully,” the other teased, his voice dangerously soft as his lips ghosted over your neck.

Your head spun, the sensory overload leaving you utterly at their mercy. Before you could answer, another set of hands slid up your thighs, lifting them slightly before a cock pressed back inside you, filling you in one smooth stroke. You gasped, your back arching as the rhythm began again, this time faster, more deliberate, coaxing every reaction out of you.

“Who is it?” one of them whispered, their tone deep and commanding, their lips brushing against the shell of your ear. A hand tangled in your hair, tugging gently, just enough to send a sharp spark of pleasure through you.

You opened your mouth to answer, but another voice purred against your lips before you could speak. “Careful, baby. Get it wrong, and we might have to start over.”

The stretch, the pace, the way they claimed you—it was impossible to think straight. Every sound, every movement, every word blended together, leaving you guessing, your mind a haze of desire and need.

“Take your time, princess,” one murmured, his lips grazing your jaw as the thrusts continued.

“No rush,” the other whispered, his tone dripping with amusement. “We’ve got all night.”

The overwhelming sensations made it nearly impossible to think straight. Your body trembled, teetering on the edge of delirium. Their teasing whispers, so close to your ears, blurred together, sending shivers down your spine.

‘Shit…’ you thought, barely able to focus, the lingering edge of your denied release making everything feel magnified. It didn’t help that the way they alternated, the subtle differences in their movements, forced you to pay attention to every inch of their touch.

“Ah—fuck!” you cried out suddenly as the current one inside you hit your g-spot with precision, causing your back to arch off the couch.

“Ahh, it’s right here, huh, angel?” he teased, his voice a deep growl as his lips brushed against your ear, his hips snapping harder and faster into you.

“Feels so good, doesn’t it, pretty?” the other murmured from beside you, his hand gripping your neck firmly, holding you steady as you squirmed beneath them.

The combination of sensations left you on the brink of being completely cock-drunk, your mind fuzzy and your body responding instinctively. But you forced yourself to focus, trying to distinguish between them.

The one before was a decent length, thick and stretching you with every thrust. But the one in you now? He was longer, thinner, reaching places that left you gasping for breath. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to gather your thoughts despite the way your body was screaming for more.

“Have you decided?” one of them asked, their tone a mix of amusement and anticipation.

Taking a shaky breath, you finally spoke, your voice hoarse and trembling. Your lips parted, the answer teetering on the edge of your tongue, as another thrust sent sparks shooting through your nerves, nearly making you second-guess yourself.

“W-Won then, Ki…?” you gasped, breath hitching as his thrusts slowed before he pulled out again, leaving you whining in frustration.

“My, you seem to know us so well, angel,” Riki's voice rang clearer now, no longer whispering.

“Gonna have to treat her to something good, right, Ki?” Jungwon added, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Such a smart girl.”

“Mhm… please, ’m yours…” you murmured, breathless, as they carried you back onto the bed, your head hanging slightly over the edge.

“Blindfolds—on or off?” Jungwon asked softly, standing over you, his gaze intense as his hands stroked himself gently.

“O-on.. please,” you replied, causing Riki to comment, “What a dirty girl,” His body suddenly pushing back into you with a swift move, making you yelp. He moved quickly against you, his arms holding your knees tightly.

“Shh, you’re so loud, baby,” Jungwon said, tapping his tip near your lips, causing you to open them obediently. “Or you wanna show how much of a cockslut you are, hmm?” he teased, moving gently into your mouth, your moans muffled sending vibrations through him.

Jungwon groaned as you hummed on his dick, holding onto the back of your neck to balance you as he fucked your mouth. “Such a good cockslut for us, right Ki?”

“Mhm, such a good girl for us.” Riki replied, biting his lips as he watched himself going in and out of you.

Feeling their cocks filling you both ways had your head spinning, waves of pleasure surging through your sensitive body. Your muffled moans sent vibrations along Jungwon’s length, drawing a low groan from him as he bucked his hips, his restraint fraying with each passing moment.

Both of them began to pick up their pace, Riki’s hands gripping your hips firmly. “Your pussy’s taking me in so perfectly, angel” he growled, his hips snapping into you with a steady rhythm.

“Such a pretty girl taking us both so well,” Jungwon praised, his hand stroking your flushed cheek as his hips continued their relentless rhythm in your mouth. He gazed down at you, a hint of admiration in his voice. “Close?”

You hummed weakly, the vibration sent a shudder through him, and his voice grew more strained as his release teetered on the edge.

“Cum for us, angel.”

The next morning, it was safe to say they found themselves in a rather questionable situation. The boys assumed you were still peacefully resting in bed after the events of the previous day. But the same couldn't be said for the other two.

“I can’t believe you two,” Heeseung said, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration as the two youngest members sat awkwardly on the couch.

“Sorry—” Jungwon began, but you suddenly cut him off.

“Seung-ah, it’s fine,” you said, appearing in the doorway with a gentle smile. “Besides, I think you’re just jealous. If you want me, just say so, baby—but keep these two out of it.”

Heeseung froze for a moment, clearly trying to process your teasing words, before completely blowing a fuse. The two younger boys cried out in panic, while you giggled and walked off, ready to go back to sleep.

TAGLIST — @kikidoul @rikiives @contyynishimura @ziiao @lilmarsh-t @bxcndd @laylasbunbunny

[letsbangts]

answer your phone || jjk

⤷ summary: when the consequences of his actions come calling

⟡ sequel to mutt ⟡

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 12.8k+ (I couldn’t stop 😳)

18+ // mdni

⟶ genre: angst, smut, fluff, friends with benefits au

⟶ content: fuckboy!jk, tattooartist!jk, jk is on a downward spiral (it's what he deserves), oc is struggling as well, taehyung is the shoulder to lean on everyone deserves

⟶ warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content: kissing/making out, groping, protected sex, nipple play, oral (m. & f. receiving), markings (hickeys & other bruising), a bit of dirty talk & praising, fingering, teasing, multiple orgasms…I think that’s it?

↬ a/n: HERE IT IS MUTT PT 2! firstly I want to say thank you for all the love & support i received on pt 1 it truly meant so much to me ♡ OKAY so you all wanted #justiceforoc and to see jk grovel so the tables have definitely turned on him ;). angel xoxo

↬ a/n2: p.s the flashbacks are indicated by the arrows (《,》)

˖⁺. ༶ NOW PLAYING ༶ .⁺˖ answer your phone leon thomas 01:43 ─✮───── 03:07 ⇆ ⊲ II ⊳ ↺ ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

masterlist ˚.⋆˚.⋆˚.⋆ join my taglist

Answer your phone I've got to talk to you

Jungkook is sitting on his couch with a girl's lips all over his neck and her hands all over his body, but his eyes are fixed on his cell phone lying on the coffee table. Instead of focusing on how her tongue is licking at his throat or how her hands grope him through his pants, he can only focus on you.

He stares at the phone that won't ring, at least not with you on the other end. It has been over a month since you stormed out of his place. At first, he left you alone and didn't try to reach out because he thought you needed to cool off. Jungkook has dealt with this hot and cold shit with others before; he knows they’ll be back eventually, whether he makes any effort or not. And it’s so much easier not to. But he has been calling you for weeks now with no success.

This past month, Jungkook has been with a handful of women, hoping to feel something, but he hasn't. Not even with the aid of an empty bottle or a joint— and he's certainly had plenty of both— nothing makes him feel as good as you do. Whether it's getting his dick sucked by any of the random women he’s taken into the bathroom of a club or bending one over in the backseat of his car in the parking lot of the tattoo studio, getting on top of someone else to distract him from you hasn’t helped as he thought it would.

Even though the girl with him right now is attractive, with a nice body and a skilful set of hands, he is trapped in his thoughts. He’s annoyed that her lips don't send tingles down his body like yours do, that her hands aren't as soft as your own and that she doesn't have her fingers running through his hair the way you do.

He misses you.

He pries the girl's hands off him and pushes her back as he lets out a deep sigh. She looks at him with a confused expression.

Jungkook licks his lips and, without looking at her, says, "I think we better stop; you should go."

The girl attempts a seductive smile as she moves to unbuckle his belt.

"Stop? We haven't even started anything. Come on, I'll make you feel good, big boy."

Jungkook rips her hands off of his belt, he rubs his hands over his face in frustration.

"Look, I'm just not feeling this, okay?" he says exasperated.

The girl's face drops and her whole demeanour changes.

"Are you fucking serious, Jungkook? Not feeling this? Can you not get it up or something? Is your dick really that pathetic?" she snarks, her eyes scanning him up and down.

He gives her a pointed look with his pierced eyebrow raised as he rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek and chuckles bitterly. He shakes his head, sniffs, and sits up straighter.

"Okay, listen here, Emilia—"

"It's Emily!"

"Whatever the fuck your name is, I don't care. I tried to be nice about this, but if you want to provoke me, that's fine. You're right; I can't get it up because I can't even pretend for a goddamn moment that you turn me on, not even in the slightest, so get your ass out of my fucking house," he sneers through clenched teeth.

Right after Jungkook finished speaking, he felt a sting on his cheek. The response to his words was a sharp slap to his face and, once again, another upset girl storming out of his place, slamming the door behind her.

Jungkook shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose. A metallic taste begins to form in his mouth; he must have bitten the inside of his cheek on impact. He rises to his feet and walks to the bathroom. He leans over the sink, gripping the porcelain edge as he spits out blood. Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror and runs a hand over his reddened cheek, marked with a fresh cut from the girl's ring-clad hand.

He isn't bothered that the girl is upset because he doesn't care about her. Jungkook couldn't care less about whether he was an asshole to Emma; all he cares about is you and how he needs to talk to you.

Answer your phone Give me a minute, please Has your heart turned to stone? Have you no sympathy?

He has texted and called you an embarrassing number of times, waiting with every ring to see if you'd pick up so that he could hear your sweet voice. And he does, but only when he's met with your voicemail — "Hey, this is Y/N. Sorry, I missed your call. Please leave me a message, and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks!"— which is a lie because you never do. Still, he leaves voice messages, hoping you will listen to them and call him back. He hopes that with every call, his persistence will make you curious enough to answer and talk to him—even if only for a minute.

Jungkook turns on the tap and washes his face; the cool water momentarily clears his head. However, once he raises his head and looks at his reflection again, his fringe drips with water, droplets falling onto his shirt. He is overwhelmed by the thought of you all over again.

He knows you can't be too mad at him because you haven't blocked him—not his number or on social media. This is how he knows you're not that hung up on what happened since he sees you posting, whether casually going out for coffee or all dressed up to go party with your friends; regardless, in all of them, you look stunningly beautiful.

This makes him miss you even more and makes him unsure if blocking him might have been better since Jungkook has seen some guys in your posts and noticed how they sometimes have an arm around you or how you lean in a little bit too close to them for his liking. He wonders if they are just friends; even if they are, he's sure they want to be more. Have they tried anything with you? Are you dressing up like that for one of those guys? Are you trying to move on with one of them? Is that the reason you're ignoring him?

The thought alone of you with someone else drives him crazy, but having to see you with some guy who probably doesn't even know you that well makes him furious. Jungkook knows you better than any one of those chumps could, yet they get to be around you while he is stuck looking at your angelic face beside some happy idiot through a screen like a loser.

Jungkook bets none of those guys know that you hum while getting ready, don't know that when you're in the car while it's raining you turn off the radio to listen to it fall, don't know that you can't sleep wearing pants or socks, don't know that you hate drinking room temperature water, don't know that you do this adorable little happy dance when you really like the food you're eating, and bets they don't know that the guy who put that tattoo on your hip has fucked you every way under the sun.

Shit. He misses you.

Misses how you would thread your fingers through his hair, scratching softly at his scalp while he had his head in your lap as you both watched TV, misses how you would listen to him complain about a client while you fiddled with his earring but with such attentive eyes that showed you were paying attention, misses how you would scrunch your nose and blush when he made a flirty comment, misses how you would somehow take the pressure of the day off him simply by hugging him.

Why won't you answer? Why won't you give him a proper chance to explain himself and apologize? Did all your feelings for him vanish; has your heart just turned to stone? Don't you see how hard he's trying? Don't you have any sympathy for him?

Upon realizing that his teeth are grinding together and his fists are clenched so tightly that his knuckles have turned white, he pulls himself together, relaxing all his muscles, and heads back to the living room with determination.

Jungkook grabs his phone off the coffee table before sitting on his couch. With his elbows resting on his knees, he goes to his call log filled with your name and presses it, lifting the phone to his ear as he listens to the ringing for the umpteenth time.

I know I fucked this up I know I let you down But I've suffered long enough And you're still not around

He bites his nails while tapping his foot anxiously; he concentrates on what seems like endless ringing. His eyes glance at the clock. You should be home from work by this time, he thinks. When your voice finally comes through—voicemail, of course. Jungkook didn't honestly expect anything else.  

He leans back, tips his head back against the backrest, and shuts his eyes for a second, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of his thoughts, and when he hears the beep of the answering machine, all those thoughts spill out of his mouth.

I know I don't deserve it But please have some mercy 'Cause I just might die if you don't

Y/N POV

You hold your buzzing phone in your hand and watch as the screen dims once it's finished, only to light up a few seconds later with a notification about a voicemail.

You hit on the notification and bring your phone to your ear, you bite your lip when you hear the deep voice of the man you've been keeping at bay.

"Hey Y/N, I don't know if you even listen to my messages anymore or if you ever did, but I'm not going to give up. I'm sorry, I know I fucked up and I know I let you down, but—fuck, Y/N, I miss you so goddamn much. It feels like I've been suffering for so long like there is this knife that's buried in my chest and keeps twisting the more time you're not around. I know I don't deserve it, but please have some mercy and answer me. Fucking shout at me and curse me out. Answer me and don't say anything— stay silent if you want, but just answer me, please. I need to hear your voice, or see you, something—anything, because this is beginning to feel like a slow, painful death."

You sigh as you lower the phone from your ear, swallowing the lump in your throat. You've never heard his voice so shaky; you've never experienced Jungkook being anything but confident.

Jungkook has been persistent in reaching out, and you have told yourself you must be just as persistent in your resolve not to answer. This past month has been devoid of any trace of him, but just because he hurt you doesn't mean all your feelings for him have vanished. It's been hard on you; many times your thumb has hovered over the accept button when he called, but by the time you contemplate it, the call has already gone to voicemail.

Regarding that night, you have calmed down significantly since leaving his place feeling angry and upset. You have thought it over countless times, and although you still don't condone what he did, you genuinely believe he didn't act with ill intent. You just expected more from him; he always told you how it was different with you, that you meant more to him than anyone else. Only to then treat you like any other one of his insignificant flings. It made you question if you were so whipped for him that you failed to see he viewed you as a girl easy to fool. But you know Jungkook is more than just that one night; he may have disappointed you, but there have been many times he hasn't.

You have ignored every attempt he made to communicate with you; yet, you haven't blocked him on anything—it feels too final. Instead, you have been keeping yourself occupied. When you're not working, you've been going out with friends, reminding yourself of who you were before Jungkook. Of course, you didn't completely ignore your friends when he came into your life, but he did take up a big part of your free time.

They knew about him as well; while they may not have known all the dirty details of your relationship, they did know that you spent a lot of time with him and enjoyed doing so. And if you were happy, so were they. So when you replied in the group chat that you'd be joining them for a night out, they were shocked but didn't ask any questions. They were excited to have the gang together and didn't hesitate to ensure you had a good time.

Usually, you'd spend your weekends with Jungkook since you both were off then. You would be tangled in his sheets, a sweaty mess put in various positions inducing multiple orgasms. You had forgotten the thrill of being in the middle of a crowded dance floor, sweat rolling down your body from the heat of so many bodies so close together. Throwing back countless shots, you and your friends could barely dance in your heels and tight dresses without stumbling over.

You'd also forgotten how much male attention you receive when going out and mingling with new people. Although there are still many creeps around—for whom you had to get your guy friends to come to your rescue—sometimes there would be someone who seemed harmless enough to flirt with, but then you would remember a certain doe-eyed, dimpled-smiled man and would turn them down.

One time, when you had used your friend Taehyung as an escape from an otherwise seemingly good guy, pulling him behind you and wrapping his arms around your dancing figure for protection, he asked you why you didn't go for it. That was when you opened up and told him the full story about you and Jungkook. Taehyung has been a caring and understanding person for as long as you have known him, and he empathized with you when you explained your feelings and complicated situationship.

Since that night, he has been your confidant, your shoulder to lean on. He has witnessed firsthand how this month has not been easy for you, no matter how much you tried to forget about your fuck buddy/friend. After hearing about the detailed story of the last night you spent with Jungkook, he has been vocal about how you deserve someone who wants to be with only you and that you are more than enough. Yet, he never judges you and understands that you know a different side of Jungkook.

You know the Jungkook who moved all the mugs to the lowest shelf in his cupboard so that you could reach them, the Jungkook who sings loudly in the shower, the Jungkook who when he first falls asleep starts twitching with a cute, peaceful smile on his face.

You miss him.

You've passed the tattoo studio on your way home, stared at that flashing neon-red sign, and thought how all it would take to see him is for you to step through that door; if you just walked in and talked to him, maybe everything could turn around in your favour. You both could patch things up and be happy. You could be together.

You've looked through that window from afar, hoping to catch sight of the pierced, tattoo-covered man, reminiscing about when you were on the other side with him.

✧ ──── 《《 ──── ✧

The bell of his studio dings, signalling your entry. At the counter stands the pierced, tattoo-covered man you came for. He looks up from the book with his scheduled appointments, and when his eyes land on you, he flashes you that big, dimpled smile, the corners of his tired eyes crinkling in delight.

"Hey, baby. I wasn't expecting you. What are you doing here so late?"  

He drops his pen onto the book and rounds the counter, meeting you halfway. His lips press against yours in a quick kiss as his hands settle on your waist while yours find their way around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

"I could ask you the same thing. When you texted that you were still here, I thought I would stop by to see you," you shrug.

Jungkook sighs and gives you a tight-lipped smile, lifting a hand to brush through his hair.

"My last client of the day cancelled on me, so I decided to stay back and work on some designs. I sent the others home, and I guess the time got away from me," he scratches the back of his neck.

"Mmm, handsome and hard-working, what a catch," you smile and tiptoe to give his cheek a peck.

"I don't want to disturb you, though. Should I go?" you continue, rubbing your hands up and down his chest.

Jungkook shakes his head as he removes your hands from his chest.

"No, stay. I could use your presence; it has been a stressful day."

He walks over to the studio's entrance, flips the open sign, locks the door, and pulls down the blinds, now closing for the day. Lastly, he switches off the main lights, leaving only the multiple neon lights on the walls in various designs and colours to keep you from darkness.

He takes one of your hands into his, interlocking your fingers, and leads you through the dimly lit room to behind the counter, and to the desk you've seen him work at many times. He rolls out his chair and sits at his desk, looks up at you, and pats his thigh, and you comply with his silent request. You sit, his muscular thighs between your legs. He puts one arm around you, holding your waist to keep you steady, while his other arm rests on your thigh, his chin resting on your shoulder.

Once in his lap, you look at the glance over the wooden surface covered with scattered papers, all filled with his artwork. Some designs are drawn with intricate detail, while others are simple sketches. But they are all equally impressive—sometimes you forget how talented Jungkook is.

"Oh my gosh, Kook! These are amazing!" you gasp, picking up one of the sheets and turning your head to look at him.

He takes the paper from your hands and places it back on the desk. You see the tips of his ears turning red.

"They're alright," he shrugs; you notice he seems sullen.

You turn in his hold, your body sideways on his lap, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

"What has got you so stressed out?" you ask, pushing back his fringe before moving your hand to fiddle with his earring.

Jungkook closes his eyes at the feel of your touch, exhaling a breath in relief. He leans forward, rests his forehead on your shoulder and hugs you tight.

"I just—that client, that was the fifth cancellation this month. I don't understand why; we had several consultations, and I listened to all his requests. I showed him so many different design options that I had sketched for him. I don't know maybe I—maybe I lost my touch or something."

"Hey, now that's not true; this stuff is unbelievable, Kook." you gesture at the multiple illustrations on his desk. "And you have been completely booked up with back-to-back appointments every day, I have never seen you so busy."

You tug on his hair and he whines, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and pulling you closer.

"Plus, do you think I would let a guy who's lost his touch anywhere near my skin with even a drop of ink?" you tease, your lips brushing his ear.

"That was months ago," he mumbles into your neck, and you feel the coolness of his lip rings against your skin.

“Yeah, and I would still let you be the one to do it."

Jungkook looks up at you as he argues, “Not like I’m going to let anyone touch you besides me.”  

You boop his nose with your own, which makes him chuckle.

“I’m serious, Jungkook. You are passionate about your job, and it shows in your artwork. You are such a talented artist, people see your pieces online and come from all different places just to get inked by you. You. Because you are fucking Jeon Jungkook,” you poke at his chest.

“Okay, okay,” he smiles softly as he brings your hand to his lips, kissing it gently. “How do you always know what to say to calm me down?”

Your eyes sparkle at his question, and you smile gently as you hold his cheek, your thumb caressing the soft skin while pressing your forehead to his. “I know you. Everything I said is simply the truth.”  

Jungkook’s mouth parts slightly in surprise, but his gaze softens. You weren’t sure due to the low lighting in the room, but his cheeks seemed to flush as well. 

"Thank you, baby,” he says almost shyly, and you couldn’t believe this was the same man who flirts with you so shamelessly at every chance he gets, nor the same man who has had you screaming in pleasure several times a night.

There are many sides to Jungkook, and you adored all of them.

You wrap your arms around his torso, embracing him tightly, burying your face in his neck, and he hugs your waist just as firmly, kissing your forehead.

You both sit like that for a while, and your breathing becomes in sync as if your bodies had become one.

“I-I'm…I'm glad you came here,” he clears his throat as his arms tighten around your waist, basking in your warmth and comfort.

Jungkook has vented to you about work before, but this time, it feels different. You’ve never seen him like this.

"I'm here anytime you need to talk, Kook," you reassure.

“Well, that's good to know…” He said with a nervous smile. “But I meant…I'm glad you came here that day to get your tattoo, that you came into my life.”

Your body freezes momentarily at his words, but soon a fire ignites in your heart and spreads throughout you. You are filled with pride and relief that he feels comfortable and trusts you enough to share his personal feelings so openly.

"I'm glad I did too," you whisper, "I meant what I said though, I'm here if you ever need to talk."

“Okay,” he whispers, “Okay. But on one condition.”

"What?"

He tilts his head to look down at you, you look up at him through your lashes.

"You have to come and hold me like this when I do."

"Deal," you giggle.

"Seal it with a kiss," he leans down slightly.

You lift your head and meet his lips in an emotional kiss which soon turned more heated as your tongues mingled together.

You move down his body, kneeling between his thighs. Your hands grip his belt, and Jungkook pants lightly, his anticipation and need high. You unbuckle it and unbutton his jeans effortlessly, then quickly pull them down far enough for his bulge to be exposed. As expected, he is already hard for you. The effect you have on him is always intense. You glance up at the heavy-breathing man above you, eyes hooded and bottom lip caught between his teeth.

You shift your focus from his bulge to his t-shirt, gripping it by the hem and pulling it up. When he realizes what you want, he assists you; he sits up a little, grabbing the back of the collar and pulling it over his head with one hand, fully exposing his toned core. Just like that, his shirt is off, and he tosses it to the floor to be found later.  

Your hands create goosebumps across his exposed skin as they brush against his lower abdomen when you grab the hem of his boxers and pull them down. His erection springs up and rests against his abdomen, impatient for your touch.

At the sight of his big, veiny dick, you unconsciously drag your tongue along your upper lip. You quickly remove his jeans and boxers, along with your shirt, leaving you in your bra, panties, and skirt.

Your hand wraps around his shaft, and your thumb swipes across his head, smoothing the precum over his length to make it feel better. You stroke him gently a couple of times before leaning down and placing a soft kiss against the tip of his cock. Jungkook hisses at the sensation, and he throws his head back.

You slowly begin to move your hand up and down his cock; you enjoy building him up gradually and prolonging his release. A knowing look flashes across his eyes when he discovers what you are doing. He chuckles, and then you swirl your tongue around his head, causing the smile to fall from his face immediately as his hand grips the sides of the chair.

“D-don’t tease,” he breathes heavily.

Your lips curve up into a barely noticeable smile at his reaction. You lick him from the base of his length to the top, swirling your tongue around his head once more before slowly pushing him between your lips and going down on him, your tongue pressing against his hardness as you take him in.

His abs clench at the contact, and a moan slips past his lips, “Fuck, yeah." 

You glimpse up at him; his eyes are closed tightly, and sweat is forming on his golden skin, the exact way you like seeing him when you suck him off. The fact that you could affect him like that without even doing very much boosts you with confidence.

You start moving back up slowly, your hand wrapping around the base of his shaft and squeezing him gently, earning a whimper. You repeat your movements with eagerness.

You love giving him head, hearing his moans of pleasure, having him fall apart at your touch.

After a few rougher squeezes from your hand, you suck harder and take as much of him as you can into your mouth, using your hand to pump the rest of him that you can’t fit.

"Feel good?" you ask the obvious question.

He whines and raises his hand to your hair, pushing his fingers through the locks and out of your face. “That feels so good," he rasps.

You hum around his dick; you look up and find him already gazing down at you, his eyes dark with lust—an image you will carry with you to your grave.

You flutter your eyelashes at him and take him even deeper, fully engulfing his dick, his tip hitting the back of your throat each time you bob your head. 

Jungkook gulps and his eyes roll back in his head. You feel his hands tangle in your hair, pulling slightly as his hips thrust up into your mouth on instinct.

You go back to slowly moving your hand up and down his length, and it lasts for a few seconds until his hands are over yours, stopping you. Before you can question him, he takes your head in a tight hold and forces you to move faster, his large hands enveloping your head. He gently pushes down against your head until his entire cock is in your mouth and holds you there, your nose touching his pelvis. Your eyes water, but you power through, breathing deeply through your nose.

The man appears to be in pure bliss. His thighs are shaking, and his eyes are blinking rapidly, trying hard to stay open. His mouth is agape as he releases breathy moans, his chest heaving up and down.

“Your mouth feels so good, baby, fuck,” he growls.

When he is satisfied, he pulls you up off of his cock and removes his hands. You pop back up and let go of his throbbing length, a string of saliva briefly connecting your mouth to his tip. You gasp for air with tears streaming down your face, and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Always such a good girl for me, aren't you?” he says, lifting your chin and wiping your wet cheeks.

You nod with a sniff, your eyes still glassy.

Jungkook suddenly reaches forward to grab your hips and pulls you onto his lap. You quickly straddle him, your hands pressing against his chest as you grind softly against his dick. His lips crash into yours in a messy kiss; it lasts for a little while before he pulls away and looks straight at you, “You know I love having your mouth around me, baby, but I need to be inside you." 

Then he’s capturing your lips once more, his arms encircling your legs around his waist as he does so. His hands rest under your thighs, effortlessly supporting your weight. You’re so immersed in how seamlessly his lips meld with yours that you don’t notice you both have shifted from the chair until you feel him place you on the desk.

Jungkook glides his hands up your thighs, only to have them wound around your waist, pulling you against him with force. He stands between your legs, with your pussy pressed directly against his member.

You grind your soaked panties against him, causing his lips to detach from yours, letting a groan escape from his lips as he tilts his head back, exposing his neck in the process. You trail small, wet kisses from the side of his face, along his jawline, and down his neck, before stopping at the junction between his neck and collarbone. You suck harshly on his skin, earning yourself a few moans from Jungkook, and you feel his chest vibrate.

Jungkook takes hold of your neck, his hand on your throat and kisses you intensely, attempting to express the longing he has felt for you since the moment you walked into the studio. His tongue swipes against your lower lip asking for entrance, and you don’t hesitate to let him in. As his tongue dances with yours, you feel his hands tug at your skirt before he pulls it down, pausing to allow you to lift off the desk enough for him to remove it along with your bra, tossing them to join the rest of the clothes on the floor.

The sight of your naked torso distracts him from doing anything else, his gaze lingers on your breasts before it shifts to your hip where your tattoo is. Jungkook’s hand instinctively glides over the skin adorned with black ink.

“It's still my favourite piece I've ever done,” Jungkook mutters before he plants kisses along your sternum and then finally on your breasts. Before his lips can explore further, you cup his face and bring it back to yours, and you both smile into the kiss. He gathers you in his arms and moves toward the tattoo chair behind him.

Jungkook carefully lowers you onto the reclined chair, and you watch as he stands at the edge of it, removing the black jeans that are already halfway down his legs. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind that you’re watching every movement of his; you bite your lip and smirk, and it seems to turn him on even further, which urges him to discard his pants and join you quickly.

He crawls over you, supporting his weight with the arms on either side of your head. He gives you a quick kiss on the lips before he begins his exploration of your body, using his lips. Open-mouthed kisses are placed along your neck, across the curve of your breasts, and back up to your neck, where he decides to leave his mark by sucking on the skin at the base of your neck. The noises that escape your lips only motivate him to suck even more aggressively, creating even more red marks as he moves down your body.

“Kook, do something,” and as if he had been waiting for those words, Jungkook starts to move lower on your body until he’s hovering over your clothed pussy. You watch as his nose skims over the wet patch on your underwear. His hands smooth over your legs before they settle onto your hips, which he doesn’t leave unmarked as he sucks on the skin above your tattoo. Your hips rise, yet his stronghold stops you from squirming. “Kook, I need you.”

Upon hearing your desperate begging, Jungkook presses a finger to your covered heat, skillfully finding the bundle of nerves that have you writhing beneath his touch. He begins to rub between your legs, with the sole barrier to full contact being the delicate piece of cloth. He keeps teasing you through your panties, relishing the sounds you make as you squirm beneath him. Deciding that you’ve had enough of the torture, Jungkook hooks a finger under the waistband of your panties before pulling them down, revealing your glistening cunt. He locks eyes with you, and you observe from above as he slips a finger inside you, his stare unwavering. As he pumps his finger inside you, your head tilts back, and you let out a string of moans.

“You’re so tight, baby,” Jungkook comments before inserting another finger inside you, gentle kisses along the inside of your thighs as your hands weave into his hair. You’re surprised when you feel him sucking on your clit; the extra stimulation makes you tremble against his thrusting fingers.

“Mmm, and so wet. Your pussy tastes so good, so fucking sweet.”

“Oh my god, K-kook,” your back arches off the bed as he adds in a third finger while keeping his mouth on your sex. He smiles triumphantly upon hearing you repeat his name like a mantra, and he sets out to ensure you’re moaning it even more loudly. You bite your bottom lip, trying to suppress your desperate moans, but it's in vain when Jungkook curls his fingers within you, hitting a specific spot that causes you to clutch his hair tightly and cry out his name shamelessly.

Jungkook relentlessly drives into you, his fingers curled to target the spot that makes you moan his name, while his mouth remains attached to your clit, teeth lightly tugging and grazing the bud before his lips form a tight seal around it. You feel the pressure in your lower stomach intensify with every thrust of Jungkook's fingers and every flick of his tongue, all leading up to your orgasm.

Jungkook watches as the wave of ecstasy flows through your body, and he swears you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, with the way your face contorts in ecstasy. His fingers are still thrusting inside, helping you ride out your high, but the oversensitivity soon becomes too much, and you have to push him away.

As you catch your breath, you take a moment to notice what a handsome man Jungkook truly is. Complementing his defined biceps and strong thighs were his abs, impeccably shaped, and you observe as the stunning man above you licks the remnants of you from his fingers. The sight has you wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him down so that his chest meets yours. Jungkook smirks at your action before he hungrily attacks your lips with his glistening ones, letting you taste yourself as you recover from your climax.

“Take this off,” you mumble against his lips, your foot at his lower back attempting to push his boxers down. He quickly complies with your request, shedding the dark grey boxers before leaning down to his jeans on the floor to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket and get a condom. He rips open the foil with his teeth, being careful not to tear the condom in the process, before rolling it down his length. He hovers over you again, keeping most of his weight off of you with the support of his arms.

Jungkook kisses at your navel before trailing upward towards your breasts. His mouth envelops one of your nipples, sucking on it, he takes his time sucking one breast while kneading the other one before he switches. Your hands hold onto his biceps, gliding over his skin as he prepares your body for another climax. When he’s satisfied with the marks he’s left on your two mounds, he places one more kiss against your lips before looking into your eyes.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Mhm, Kook. Want you so bad.”

And so Jungkook takes his length and aligns himself at your entrance, the tip of his member almost pushing past your folds. He gives you one last peck on the corner of your mouth before his member sinks into your pussy, making you wince at the stretch of your walls. He pushes himself until he is buried deep within you, causing you to whimper when you feel his full length inside of you. Jungkook groans loudly as he feels himself being embraced by the warmth and tightness of your wet, velvety walls. He reaches for your hands and lifts them to rest on both sides of your head and interlocks your fingers with his. His forehead meets yours, and both of you share a longing gaze while relishing the moment. Once you've adjusted to his size, you move beneath him, and Jungkook takes it as a signal to begin his ravaging.

He pulls back all the way, leaving only his tip inside of you, before pushing himself balls-deep within you once again. You urge him on with your voice, calling for him to go faster and harder, and he complies by thrusting into you at an astonishing speed. With each thrust of his, Jungkook’s name escapes your lips in moans that fill the studio, along with his panting and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

You feel the warmth of his chest leave yours when he sits up, his hands gripping your waist, pressing his fingernails into your skin. The new position allows him to pull you to meet each of his thrusts, hitting at a new angle that makes you cry out his name. When he starts hitting that same spot that tipped you over the edge earlier, you grab his arms and pull him so that he’s on top of you again. His entire weight is on top of you, but you don’t care, not when his thrusts are paired with his lips on your neck.

You moan loudly, which is followed by your pussy convulsing around his cock, and Jungkook knows that you’re close. Your nails scratch against his broad back, leaving a stinging sensation that only adds to his pleasure. You're sure he’ll have red marks all over his back as if he’s been attacked, but it's a fair trade because he’s marked you plenty with his lips.

Jungkook feels you clenching around him even tighter than before, and he’s slamming his hips against yours, urging you to reach your climax. When Jungkook feels your nails dig deeper into his back, his hand reaches between your two sweaty bodies and draws circles on your clit, which sends you off into euphoria. Your second orgasm of the night hits you harder than the first, and your body would have trembled if it were not for Jungkook’s body in the way—the body that is still connected to yours and continues thrusting into you. Your swollen walls clench so tightly that Jungkook starts chasing his high. He groans loudly against your neck as he shallowly thrusts into you, helping the both of you ride out your orgasms.  

Jungkook sighs in release, unaware of how long he’s been holding his breath. Jungkook detaches himself from you, and you gasp lightly, feeling somewhat empty as the warmth leaves with him. He rolls off of you, and the two of you lie close together, side by side, attempting to regain your breath after the intense exchange. You sense his gaze from the corner of your eye, and when you turn to face him, your eyes meet his round, dark brown ones.

"Come here."

Unsatisfied with just your shoulders touching, Jungkook turns onto his side, and you do the same before the both of you shift closer to each other. His hands rest naturally on your hips as if returning them to their rightful place. No words are exchanged between the two of you, but there is no need to because you find yourself lost in the softness of his brown eyes, and he can’t help but mirror the wide grin that’s plastered on your face. His hand moves to your tattoo, and you observe his expression as his fingers hover over the indelible design on your skin. His eyes hold a sparkle that evokes a certain emotion to wash over you.

“So, do you feel better?” you ask, breaking the silence of the afterglow, but he looks confused at your words, and you find the sight adorable. “You were stressed out...”

“Me? Stressed out? Huh, I don't know what you're talking about.”

You are the one who's confused this time, but not for long, because the realization hits you when you see his mischievous smirk. You punch his arm playfully, and he grins almost too widely, his eyes forming crescents. His hands, which were placing feathery touches on your tattoo, are now tickling your sides, and he’s elated at the sound of your joyful laughter before pulling you against his chest.

Jungkook looks around the studio, the neon lights casting shadows on his face, "I feel good; how could I not? This is a first for me though— fucking at work."

You look up at him with raised brows in surprise, Jungkook smiles down at you and continues.

"You know, I didn't think the next time I had you back in my chair would be like this."

"Oh my gosh," you blush and hide your face in his chest, a little embarrassed but mostly shy at his remark. He laughs, and you feel it rumble through his chest; his hand lifts to pet down the back of your head.

"You can't be shy with me after all that. Every time I'm working on a client now, all I will be thinking about is you beneath me in this chair."

"I can't imagine what the crew would think if they found out what we did," you mumble into his chest with a little laugh.

"They would think I'm a sterilizing expert because there will be no evidence of what happened here," he sits up and gently strokes your ass, and then gives it a pinch, eliciting a gasp from you, "You're in charge of the desk, you little minx; I'll do the chair," he winks at you.

You're left to blush again, swooning as you both get up to remove any trace of the two of you in the studio.

✧ ──── 》》 ──── ✧

You blink away the tears forming in your eyes. Your thumb hovers over his name, considering calling him back just as you hear a knock at your door.

Answer your phone I've got so much to say I'm at my all-time low And it's just too much to take

Jungkook can raise his hands and admits he didn't handle that night as well as he could have, but he is truly sorry. He realizes that even if his intention wasn't to hurt or offend you, what he did wasn't his best moment. As much as he tells you that you are special to him and that what you two have is different—which is true—his actions didn't match his words, and you deserve better than that. Jungkook may not be the perfect gentleman, far from it, but he is better than that, especially when it concerns you.

As the hands of the clock tick away and more time passes, he gets up and begins pacing.

If you listened to his message you would have called by now right?

Jungkook isn't used to this—needing someone. Sure, he has desired certain women, and he always got them, but once the lust faded, he never wanted them to stay; never needed them to stay.

He hasn't always been like this, and he knows where it all began: the fear of giving his all to someone and then losing them, of handing over his heart to another and having them desecrate it.

Jungkook refused to be like his father; he watched him give his mother everything and love her immensely, only for her to run off without regard for him or Jungkook.

He fears emotionally connecting with someone else will end as he has always seen: being left alone and heartbroken.  

Because inevitably love is never simple, nor is it equal in the sacrifice of pouring oneself into another.

He can't imagine what could be worse than letting someone in and loving so wholly only to be left empty because you offered yourself up to someone undeserving.

Jungkook knows how good of a man his father is, and if he could get burned and scarred by love, Jungkook knows he doesn't stand a chance.

And who would willingly walk into a fire?

When people asked him why he didn't get into a serious relationship, he would say, “I like change. Life is too long to commit to one person and too short not to explore your options.”

But that was before he discovered you. Once you fit into his life so perfectly he knew he wouldn’t be able to live without you. He knew he had found that one constant in his life. 

The constant being: Y/L/N Y/N.

What he shared with you has always been simple, and the effort you both put in has always been equal.

Jungkook never believed he would find that kind of connection, one that flows with ease. Now that he has found it, he desires to keep you in his life and wants you to remain a part of him.

He will walk through the flames if you're on the other side.

Jungkook has never been fond of lingering and preferred moving from one thing to the next, one woman to the next. He didn't enjoy being too close; he always kept people at a distance maybe not physically but emotionally. Tattooing has been the only steady thing in his life; he was committed to his craft.

But you broke down his walls, shattered the pattern—you got close. He found the courage to let his guard down. He knows there is nothing to be wary of, no looming feeling that he will be met with disappointment. Everything is easy with you.

His cowardice had him ruling out a love that hadn't happened yet. Maybe he is a fool, but he can't live with regret. He's ready to dive off the deep end. It's draining to always be on the defence, ready to push people away, and he's tired. He wants to settle down and commit to you.

Jungkook can be vulnerable around you; he knows you won't use his weaknesses against him like people have in his past. You don't even view them as things that make him weak just what makes him human, because no one can be perfect. However, he would argue that you seem to be pretty damn close.

He feels most comfortable with you; he trusts you and can be himself. There is no pretence with you; Jungkook likes who he is around you.

Jungkook loves you.

In your eyes, he is the guy who comforted you when he saw how nervous you were while getting your first tattoo. The one who keeps an extra hoodie in his car for you because you are never dressed for the weather. The one who finishes work and picks up takeout for the two of you to eat together. That's the Jungkook you see, the one you know better than anyone else—the one you have wrapped around your precious finger.

You've never asked him to be any different from who he is, despite his shortcomings in many aspects. You never judge him for the life he's leading and never pressure him to change his ways, no matter how flawed. Yet you still never expect the worst from him.

So now, all he fears is that he has accomplished the one thing he dreaded the most, and has destroyed the link holding the two of you together.

Should he go to your place?

Jungkook hasn't gone over because he didn't want to seem overbearing; he wanted to give you your space until you felt ready to talk to him on your terms. Also, if you weren't answering his calls, you most likely wouldn't answer your door either.

But he doesn't want you to think he won't fight for you. He won't lose you without a lack of trying. If Jungkook is anything, he is persistent. He has too much left to say to you and he isn't about to sit here and take this distance any longer. He's willing to do whatever it takes.

As he looks out of his window and stares at the hundreds of lights, he feels a new surge of determination; he is rising from this low point he has sunk into, fed up with wallowing in his self-pity.

He turns and strides to his door, yanking it open with vigour. He sprints down the stairs and rushes outside into the chilly night, heading straight for his car.

Jungkook pulls out of his spot and drives the familiar route to your house, accelerating down the road at the maximum speed permitted by law. In his state of urgency, it seems that all he encounters are red lights and stop signs.

His grip on the steering wheel tightens, and he has to hold himself back from stomping too hard on the gas pedal when the light turns green.

Answer your phone I've got to get to you God, I hope you're alone And someone new isn't next to you

Y/N POV

You gather yourself and halt your wandering thoughts to get up and check who is at your door. You are not expecting anyone, and you told your friends you won't be going out with them tonight. Your excuse was being too tired from work, but honestly, you just were too sad to pretend that you were okay.

Could it be him? He said he wouldn't give up, that he had to see me.

Do you want it to be him? You would be lying to yourself if you said no.

So it's a surprise when you open the door and see Taehyung standing there with his hands in his front pockets, teetering back and forth on his heels.

A part of you is disappointed, not because it's Taehyung but because it's not Jungkook.

"Tae? I said in the group chat that I'm not going out tonight. Didn't you see my message?"

He looks you up and down and barges in, walking past you.

"And didn't you see my message? I said you are going out tonight and I was coming over to pick you up. Why aren't you ready?"

To be fair you were so preoccupied on your phone, listening to Jungkook's message and reminiscing, that you didn't notice any other messages. But when you go to your chats, you see his words are true.

He plops down on your couch, stretching his arm out on the back and gives you an expectant look, his eyes wide and his brows raised.

"What?"

"What do you mean, what? Go get ready," he makes a shooing gesture with his hand and continues.

"The clubs aren't open all night—well, actually they are..." his brows furrow as he looks off into the distance for a brief moment, then catches himself. "But I don't have all night, so let's go!" He demands with a clap of his hands.

"I'm not going out tonight, Tae. I told everyone I'm staying home."

You lie down on the couch next to his seated figure, with your back resting against the armrest.

"Didn't we just go over this?" he points between the two of you. "You are going out; everyone is already at the club. They got a table, and I'm sure Jimin has already downed a shocking amount of shots, so we have to leave soon if we want to catch up."

Taehyung taps your knee twice and then shoves your legs off the couch, bringing you to a sitting position. You take a deep breath and throw your head back, crossing your arms while closing your eyes.

"I don't feel like going out. I want to stay home."

"And do what? Continue to sulk over pretty tattoo boy?"

You open your eyes and turn your head toward him, pouting, "I was not sulking."

He stares at you with a raised brow, filled with doubt.

Rolling your eyes and letting out a sigh, your arms drop to your sides, "I'm just not in the mood, I'll only bring down the vibe."

Taehyung turns his body to face you, a sympathetic expression on his face.

"You're only making this harder for yourself by just sitting around and thinking about him, Y/N. I understand that you like him a lot—I do—but a guy like that isn't worth wasting your life waiting for him."

You look down at your hands in your lap and chip at your nail polish.

"He's been leaving me messages. He tells me how sorry he is and that he misses me. He sounds like he's having a rough time, too. That doesn't erase what he did, I know, but it was just one mistake. He's a good man, Tae. I've always known he wasn't perfect, but everyone has faults, right?"

Taehyung holds your hand and squeezes it, leaning down to meet your gaze. His voice is careful when he speaks.

"People like him always know the right thing to say. If he were such a good guy, he wouldn't have used you the way he did. Yes, everyone has faults, but you can find someone whose faults don't hurt you. It may have been only one mistake, but if he truly cared about you as he claimed, he would have never treated you that way."

Tears form in your eyes and your voice cracks. "It's just—I know him; it sounds pathetic, but he has shown me a side of himself that I know he doesn't show everyone. The real him and that's the Jungkook who has my heart. That's the Jungkook I love. We've experienced so much together, it's difficult to just move on from him."

"If you don't try to move on from him, how can you expect to, babe?"

He's right; you haven't tried. Throughout this entire period of your ignoring him, you have consistently kept Jungkook in your thoughts. Every time you went out with friends, every time a guy tried to flirt with you, and every time you held your phone—Jungkook. When you woke up, when you were at work, and when you went to bed—Jungkook. Even when you heard a knock at your door, as Taehyung did earlier, you hoped it was Jungkook.

Jungkook. Jungkook. Jungkook.

Your mind and heart were devoted to Jungkook. Everything revolved around him.

Your tears overflow, and you finally break. Taehyung wraps his arms around you, and you cry into his shoulder. He holds you until you calm down, and your sobs turn into sniffles.

You lift your head and wipe your cheeks.

"I'm such a mess, I'm so sorry, Tae. You came out to have a good time, and here you are consoling me. I have probably fucked up your fun night out," you croak out. "I must seem so stupid, all hung up over a guy."

"You haven't ruined anything, and you certainly aren't stupid. I would never think that of you. I know how much of yourself you give to someone important to you. I wish you would give yourself to someone worthy, not someone who takes advantage of you. You are an amazing person, and if Jungkook hasn't realized how lucky he is to have you, then he's the stupid one, Y/N."

"Thank you, Tae. Not just for tonight, but for listening to me go on about Jungkook this past month like a sad, broken record. You stuck by me, have been so caring, and always validated my emotions. I swear I'm the one who's lucky and unworthy of you."

"Nonsense, you know you can depend on me anytime," he says, patting your head and smiling affectionately.

You smile back, glance down, and see his shirt is stained with your tears.

"I ruined your shirt," you sniffle, pinching at the fabric.

Taehyung looks down at it and shrugs, "Hey, I prefer your tears to stain my shirt rather than Jimin's vomit," he jokes to lighten the mood.

You laugh, and he points at your face, his expression bright.

"Aha! There she is! Happy Y/N, I thought I had lost her!" he exclaims.

He turns his head, looking around, arms stretched out as if speaking to a crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, no need to fear; I have managed to make Y/N laugh."

Taehyung once again proves to be the best friend one could have; you can always count on him to cheer you up and gather the pieces of your broken heart without fail.

"Shut up, Tae. I have neighbours," you giggle, playfully pushing him.

He joins your giggles and returns your playful push, "Well then, go get dressed! If you don't I will run up and down the hallway screaming. I came here to take you out and have fun. Sitting at home alone can't be better than partying with your insanely funny, incredibly handsome best friend. And if that isn't enough, Seokin's dancing is a sure way to lift anyone's spirit."

"Okay, fine," you agree, getting up with a big smile. The image of Seokjin's dancing already boosts your mood.

Making your way to your bedroom, you yell out, "But if anyone comments on my swollen eyes, you'll be dealing with them!"

"I've got your back, babe. Don't worry!"

You can always count on Taehyung.

Tell me, tell me now am I too late Is there somebody new taking my place? Is there somebody's lips on you Where mine used to be, yeah?

Jungkook parks across the street from your building; he sits in his car, pondering whether it's too late to knock at your door. Are you already asleep? Should he have waited until tomorrow? If you answer and open it to find him standing there, will you shut it in his face?

He knows right now he's not your favourite person, but he doesn't believe you would be so cruel as to turn him away at your doorstep.

He rubs his hands down his face and lets out a deep sigh.

How could he let things end up like this?

He ruined something so special, so sacred. Building a relationship so pure and superior doesn't happen to everyone, and he managed to have it hanging by a thread.

Your relationship can't just end because of one mistake—a big mistake, yes, but he believes that what you two have is strong enough to overcome this. The two of you have made so many wonderful, meaningful memories.

Jungkook remembers how good things were before this—before he ruined everything.

✧ ──── 《《 ──── ✧

Jungkook never imagined he would witness such a breathtaking sight: you bare before him, glazed eyes and slightly parted lips, lovely sounds escaping as he traced wet kisses along the nape of your neck, down your throat, over the curves of your breasts, pausing to swirl his tongue over a sensitive bud, drawing out his name from your throat, the same one now decorated with shades of blue and purple.

“Please, Kook,” you beg, pleading with him for more, and he is more than willing to give it to you, knowing he can hardly deny you anything.

He smiles, kissing his way back up to your lips, positioning his body over yours and aligning his hips so he can slide into your warmth with a soft thrust, the wetness coating the inside of your thighs showing how aroused he has made you.

You clutch at his shoulders with a moan, nails digging in and creating crescent shapes with every thrust he makes. Jungkook fucks you slow and deep, hitting every nerve within you, making you unravel before him in no time at all. His lips move slowly against yours, tongues twirling together as your legs wrap tightly around his body, drawing him closer and deeper into you, his sighs of contentment pouring into your mouth.

Jungkook is sure this is what heaven feels like: his hands on you, hips rocking against your own as you devour the sounds escaping each other's lips. You encourage one another until he picks up pace, gazing down at your face, cheeks flushed and lips swollen.

The coil in your stomach tightens, twisting, and is ready to snap. Jungkook is also at his limit, eyes hooded but maintaining eye contact with yours, his forearms supporting his weight on either side of your body.

Overcome with pleasure, the feeling of his skin against your own, united with you in the most intimate way two people can be. The act is sinful but fully infused with the profound bond you both share. What you and Jungkook have cannot be expressed in words, and he does not think the two of you need to articulate what you both understand.

“Come on, baby, cum for me,” he husks, gently nibbling at your jaw.

One of his hands moves to where your bodies meet, flicking his thumb over your clit repeatedly. Then you come undone, the release so intense that his name echoes off every corner of the small bedroom. He continues throughout your orgasm, prolonging it until the sensation of your walls tightening around him brings him to his climax, spilling inside of you with a groan of your name, lips pressed harshly to yours, putting everything he feels into a single kiss.

He pulls away, carefully removes the condom and ties a knot at its end before disposing of it and falling onto the bed, shifting onto his side to look at you. The moonlight streams through the window, illuminating your skin in a radiant glow. Jungkook trails his fingertips along the surface of your arm, moving down until he reaches your hip, pulling you closer to him as you tuck your head into his chest.

Jungkook spots the numerous red crescents on your body already beginning to take on a darker colour — almost as deep as the black ink he used for your tattoo. Jungkook wishes for nothing more than the colour of the marks to be so deep that it will cover you forever.

He holds you close, his thumb brushing over the familiar tattoo on your hip— the everlasting mark that brought you two together. You found each other that day months ago when you walked into his studio and had him ink his design on you, and ever since then, you have been a part of his life. The ink serves as a reminder of the bond between you and Jungkook, etched onto your skin just as you are to him.

“You should let me give you another one."

“What do you think I should get?” you whisper against his chest.

"My name, here," he replies, his inked finger tracing just above the left side of your chest, right over your heart.  

You smile as you push him so that he lies on his back; you move to lie on your stomach between his legs, your chin resting on his chest. His hands come to your back, caressing it up and down.

"Hmm, and you'll get my name here," you lightly run your pointer finger over his left pec.

Jungkook lifts a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, smiles tenderly, and nods while humming in agreement. His fingers linger, skimming your face as his gaze softens. His eyes are filled with adoration as he looks at you.

Jungkook can feel your heartbeat against his stomach; he wonders if you can feel his own under your touch. Both of your hearts are beating rapidly, which he assumes is due to the physical exertion you both just experienced and not from this impassioned moment you two are having.

He can physically feel how much affection there is between you two. He has never felt that before. It's moments like this that make Jungkook feel incredibly fortunate to have you in his life.

"Aren't tattoo artists usually against getting other people's names tattooed?" you tease with a smirk and a raised brow.

Jungkook shrugs with a smirk, his tongue playing with his lip rings, "I live by my own rules."

You roll your eyes, shaking your head, "Oh, what a rebel you are."

Jungkook's hands go to your sides and tickle you with a gentle pinch.

"Kook!" you laugh as you jolt further up his body.

"Kook!" he mocks in a high-pitched voice, imitating you before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close.

You pout and make a soft 'hmph' sound so insanely cute that Jungkook can't resist the smile spreading across his face; he laughs and then kisses your pouty lips and all over your face. You giggle and lightly tug his necklace with your finger, bringing his mouth to yours for a long, sweet kiss. When you break apart, Jungkook gives one final peck above your left breast.

"I was serious, you know," he murmurs, voice low. He juts his chin lightly to where he last placed his lips.

"Haven't you marked me enough?" you stretch out your neck and gesture at the hickey-covered skin.

"I wanna mark you every way I can, baby," he smiles smugly.

One of your hands plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, and the other plays with the hoop in his ear. You avoid eye contact, keeping your eyes focused on the earring.

"Tattoos are forever, Kook," you say sheepishly.

"You're telling me," Jungkook chuckles, tilting his head toward his right arm covered in a sleeve of tattoos. He turns his head to kiss your wrist and then cups your face with both hands, making you look at him, "Hey, you planning on going somewhere and not telling me?"

You shake your head, his big hands still holding it.

"Hmm, I'm a bit worried now; I need to hear you say it," he squints his eyes, teasing.

"No, I'm not going anywhere," you grin.

Jungkook mirrors your grin and nods, "Good," he pulls your face closer and nudges his nose against yours, "Because I'm not either."

He squishes your cheeks together in his hands, making your lips pucker out.

"It's not easy to find someone this cute," he coos, shaking your head.

You pull your head from his grasp and lightly slap his chest. His hands slide down to your ass and give it a firm squeeze, long fingers digging into the smooth flesh.

"Even harder to find someone equally as sexy,” he whispers in your ear, his teeth grazing lightly. His voice is so deep you feel it vibrate through his body against yours.

"Huh, it can't be too hard, I found you," you quip, poking his cheek.

Jungkook gives your ass a spank, and you gasp as he flips you both over, with you now under his hovering body.

"Why don't I show you just how lucky we both are?" his tone dripping with seduction.

The tip of his nose trails down your neck as his lips ghost over your skin, down to the valley of your breasts. He stops to knead the soft mounds, surging forward to swirl his tongue over one of the hardened nubs before taking it into his mouth and sucking gently. He hums in satisfaction. He releases it, giving it a gentle bite, and switches to show the other the same attention.

Once pleased, he continues his trail past your stomach and stops at your pulsing heat. He nestles his head between your legs, his hands grip your thighs and spread you wide open, your already slick folds clench around nothing in anticipation.

Jungkook gives your clit a teasing lick before diving in without hesitation. You whimper when his mouth latches onto you, his wide tongue licking a slow, filthy stripe over your slit, your hands flying into his hair. He groans, his eyes rolling back as he tastes you, his tongue circling your clit and then flicking over it repeatedly before dragging down to press at your entrance. Your hand tightens in his hair as his tongue presses deep into your dripping hole.

“Fuck, Kook,” you whine, grinding harder as your thighs tighten around his head.

He exhales through his nose, eyes crinkling as he smiles into your pussy when you buck your hips against his face. The sequence of sucking, licking, and prodding with his lips and tongue has you both writhing in ecstasy. The wet, sloppy sounds of his lips and tongue working against you fill the room. The intimate night of passion continues until the moon gives way to the sun.

✧ ──── 》》 ──── ✧

Jungkook is pulled out of his memories when he sees the door of the main entrance to your building open. He watches you step out, and his heart nearly leaps out of his chest upon seeing you.

Your short, tight dress hugs your body in all the right places. Your tall, thin high heels complement your legs phenomenally. Your hair cascades down your figure, making you look like an angel. You look gorgeous.

The sight of you would bring any man to his knees. You must be dressed to go out for the night, so he must act now if he doesn't want his drive here to be for nothing. He moves to get out of his car, but just as his hand touches the handle, he sees a man walk out right behind you, and Jungkook freezes.

Jungkook looks closely at the man's face; he's good-looking. He's sure he recognizes him from your posts. He looks like one of the guys you've tagged in your pictures, the ones where he's had his arm around you. The happy idiot. What was it... Taemin? Taejin? Taewoo?

Whoever he is, he extends his arm for you to link with yours, and you do. You're about to step down the stairs when you stop and say something to the man. You have an anxious expression, but whatever you say to the man beside you only brings a fond smile to his face. He responds to you and leans down to kiss your cheek.

The cheek that Jungkook's lips have been on more times than he can count.

And you light up as if he made everything better. You walk down the stairs, arm in arm with the man whom Jungkook worries has taken his place.

Once you step off the last step, you stop once more, unlink your arm, and pull out your phone. The light from the screen shines on your face; you tap your fingers on it for a few seconds before putting it back in your purse. You relink your arms with who Jungkook thinks is the luckiest guy in the world and set off down the street, heading to your destination.

Jungkook feels the wind being knocked out of him. He hadn't even realized he had gotten out of his car. He stands far enough that you don't notice him, but close enough to see you perfectly. To see how you were on the phone he knows is full of his messages and calls—that you are still ignoring.

Tell me, tell me now, what can I do To make it up to you Won't you tell me, please? Tell me, please

All the hope and determination he had when he left his house seemed to have disintegrated. He feels small, much like your figure becomes as you walk further away from him on the arm of another.

Jungkook stares at your back until he loses sight of you as you round the corner. He stands there feeling like he has just been slapped in the face for the second time tonight, but this one stings much more.

What else can he do?

Jungkook doesn't know how to make it up to you, and at this point, he's unsure if he's fighting a losing battle. You seem to be doing just fine without him. It hurts to see you happy when he has been miserable without you.

He needs you to talk to him, to tell him what to do to win you back. What he has to do so he can hear your laugh, smell your scent, and touch your skin. He needs to have you back in his arms, on his lips—in his life.

He tilts his head back, eyes focused on the moon and how it mocks him, shining brightly while he is filled with darkness.

He stands there, disoriented; all he can do is let out a bitter laugh at the irony that he drove all the way here to watch you walk away from him—now and quite possibly forever.

With a sad smile, he is overwhelmed with questions, out of his mind. Why are you two ending? How can you? How can you two end?  

All your memories together overflow out of his perforated heart, he puts his hand over his chest trying to block them and keep them inside, but they escape through his fingers.

Jungkook had you by his side and took you for granted; now he is watching you be cherished by another man while he stands by like a stranger in the night.

He doesn't want to be like this, he doesn't. He hates this, really hates this.

He doesn't believe it would hurt this much even if his heart stopped.

Answer your phone I've got to talk to you I'm out here in the cold Trying to get through to you, oh

Jungkook never envisioned that when he finally loved someone, he would be left alone and heartbroken— not because you decided to run off, not because you were undeserving, but because he pushed you away.  

He took too long to walk through the flames and got burned. He dove off the deep end too late into a pool of emptiness and hit the bottom.

Jungkook stands in the street, the cold air biting at his cheeks, but he can't find the strength to return to his car and drive home. He came here on a mission to talk to you face to face. He hopes that if he stands here long enough, you might walk back around that corner and come straight to him. He hopes you will answer his plea and do something to fix him. Hold him in your arms and tell him that everything will be okay and that the two of you will work together to mend what has been broken.

But you don't, and Jungkook's heart may be beyond repair at this rate.

Jungkook's heart hurts so badly that it's strange that he's even alive.

He should have followed you, chased you blindly even if you were trying to run away from him. He should have yelled at the top of his lungs that there's a hole in his heart that can't be filled and he's dying of pain.

How can he forget you? He doesn't know how to do that.

Like the tattoo he inked on your hip, you are etched in him— an indelible impression on his heart.

You are the only person he wants, your hands to comfort him, your voice to soothe his heart.

He'll have to settle for listening to your voice through the phone, even if it's only your voicemail.

Jungkook digs into his pocket for his phone, unlocks it and with your name already on the screen, presses the call button and waits.

Answer your phone, answer your phone Answer your phone, answer your phone Answer your phone

But he doesn't have to wait for long.

He's immediately met with a voice, but not your sweet voice; instead it's an answering machine.

And now he has been slapped for the third time tonight, so hard that he stands there in the cold, gripping his phone so tightly that his knuckles might bleed. He releases a shaky breath as his eyes fill with tears, and spill over before he knows it.

Jungkook is hit with the reality that you still refuse to talk to him. You have now blocked his number on your phone and blocked him out of your life.

"We are unable to reach the person you are calling at this time. Please try calling back later."

↬ so how do we feel? hope he suffered enough for your liking. let me know what you think! muah! 💋

taglist: @bangtans-momma @celticcountrygal @annafarrr

[rafecameronssl4t]

Please and au where forced marriage rafe gets jealous over the reader when a guy his age flirts with her at a ball or an event 🙏🙏

Little miss perfect || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: Got a bit carried away with this one but it was funnn thank you for the request :)

Warnings: angst galore is all i gotta say

Word count: 2,470

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

Divider by @h-aewo

Your hand reached out instinctively, resting gently on his bouncing knee, hoping to calm the restless energy radiating off him. Rafe’s eyes flicked over to you briefly before he turned his gaze back out the car window, the tension in the air palpable. “I really wish you’d have told me about this party sooner,” he muttered, the frustration clear in his voice.

His words came out sharper than you expected, cutting through the silence that had settled between you. “Instead of springing it on me an hour before it starts.” A scoff escaped your lips as you began to defend yourself. “It slipped my mind—” “Oh, really? It slipped your mind?” Rafe’s voice dripped with sarcasm, his eyes narrowing as he shot you a condescending look. You felt a wave of irritation rise, matching his intensity.

Your gaze shifted to the driver, catching his eyes in the rearview mirror, and with a sigh, you reached for the button to raise the privacy barrier. “I don’t know why you’re freaking out,” you said, your voice tinged with frustration as the barrier slid into place, separating you from the driver. “It’s just a party.”

His head snaps back towards you, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “It’s never just a party with you,” he mutters, his words dripping with resentment. You furrow your brows, confusion and anger flaring as you stare at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you snap, your voice sharpening with the tension between you.

Rafe purses his lips, eyes narrowing as if debating how far he wants to push this. The silence that follows is suffocating, broken only by the soft hum of the engine and the steady rhythm of your own heartbeat thudding in your ears. “It means,” he finally says, his voice low and edged with frustration, “that nothing is ever simple when it comes to you and your family. Every event, every party, 'it’s always a show—a performance to keep up appearances, to impress everyone with how perfect everything is.”

You stiffen at his words, your grip tightening on your lap as the sting of his accusations digs deep. “That’s not fair, Rafe,” you say, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to keep it steady. “You know how my family is. This is what they expect.” He leans closer, his gaze locking onto yours with a piercing intensity.

“And you just go along with it, dragging me into their mess. I’m always the one left dealing with the fallout when things don’t go according to plan—when your mother’s not satisfied or when your father makes some backhanded comment about how I should be more like William or Edward.”

“That’s not true,” you insist, your voice firmer now. “I don’t ask for these things. I don’t want to be put on display any more than you do.” “Then why the fuck does it keep happening?” he shoots back, raising an eyebrow as if daring you to argue.

“You think I don’t notice how you still try to please them? How you let them pull the strings, even when it makes us both miserable?” A flicker of doubt crosses your mind, but you push it aside, shaking your head. “They’re my family, Rafe. It’s not that simple. You know that.”

“Maybe,” he concedes, leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms as that bitter smile fades into something colder. “But I’m tired of playing this game. Tired of being a pawn in their world, in your world.” His words hang in the air, heavy and final, leaving you to grapple with the uncomfortable truth between you.

~

The car pulls up to the grand estate where the party is being held. The opulence of the surroundings doesn’t faze you—after all, you grew up in places just like this—but tonight, it feels more like a prison than ever before. The driver steps out, opening the door for you.

You glance at Rafe, his expression now guarded, the bitterness from your argument still simmering beneath the surface. Without a word, you both step out of the car, the cool evening air brushing against your skin as you take in the sight before you. The estate is alive with activity, guests arriving in elegant attire, laughter and conversation already filling the night.

It’s all so familiar, so routine, yet tonight it feels like a burden you’re forced to carry. Rafe adjusts his tie, his movements stiff, before offering you his arm. It’s a formality—something expected of the perfect couple you’re supposed to be. You hesitate for a fraction of a second before slipping your arm through his, the fabric of his suit jacket smooth under your fingertips.

Inside, the grand foyer opens up to reveal a sea of faces, all turned towards you with polite smiles and approving nods. You recognize many of them—family friends, business associates, people who have known you since you were a child. You’ve mastered the art of small talk, of charming smiles and witty remarks, but tonight it all feels hollow.

~

As the evening wore on, you and Rafe went your separate ways. It was as if an unspoken truce had been called; a mutual understanding that distance was preferable, at least for now. Rafe, much to his dismay, was intercepted by your two older brothers, William and Edward.

They were the picture of effortless charm, their laughter and easy smiles masking the razor-sharp edges of their true selves. They clapped Rafe on the back, offering him a drink, and he had little choice but to oblige, though he felt the weight of their scrutiny with every sip of whisky he took.

The conversation flowed easily—discussions of business, shared acquaintances, and subtle digs that only someone in the family would catch. The three of them stood as a formidable trio, their presence commanding attention from those around them, yet Rafe felt a gnawing discomfort.

Across the room, Rafe watched you, your every step calculated yet graceful. The elite socialite you had been raised to be was on full display, your smile radiant as you captured the attention of everyone you passed. Men and women alike found themselves drawn to you, eager to exchange pleasantries, to laugh at your witty remarks, to bask in the glow of your charm.

You were the embodiment of everything your parents had groomed you to be. Rafe, drink in hand, watched you from a distance, his gaze narrowing as he observed the way you held the room’s attention with such effortless ease. It was both mesmerising and maddening.

Your brothers’ voices became a dull hum in the background as Rafe's focus shifted entirely to you. You were laughing now, a light, melodic sound that reached his ears even across the crowded room. The source of your amusement was a man standing far too close, leaning in to whisper something in your ear.

Rafe felt a sharp pang of irritation as he watched you tilt your head slightly, allowing the man into your personal space, your smile bright and unguarded. The proximity between the two of you sent a surge of jealousy through him, a bitter taste mixing with the whisky on his tongue. “Rafe?” William’s voice cut through his thoughts, drawing his attention back to the conversation at hand.

“Hm?” Rafe blinked, momentarily disoriented. “I was saying,” William continued, an amused glint in his eyes, “that you seem a bit distracted. Something on your mind?” Rafe forced a tight smile, taking another sip of his drink to buy himself a moment. “Just taking it all in,” he replied, his tone light, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. Edward raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing look with William.

“Don’t let it get to you, Cameron,” he said, his voice low and conspiratorial. “This is just the way things are in our world. You’ll get used to it. Especially since you’re married to my sister and part of the family.” Rafe’s grip tightened around his glass, his eyes flicking back to you. The man had said something else, and you were laughing again.

He could feel the heat rising in his chest, a mix of anger and something darker, something that had been festering since the day he’d agreed to marry into your family. “Excuse me,” Rafe muttered abruptly, handing his empty glass to a passing server. Without waiting for a response from your brothers, he began making his way across the room, his eyes locked on you and the man who had somehow earned your attention.

As he approached, he noticed how your posture changed—how you straightened slightly as if sensing his presence before you even saw him. The man, oblivious, continued to speak, but your laughter had stopped, your smile faltering as you glanced over your shoulder to find Rafe closing in.

“Rafe,” you greeted him, your voice pleasant but with a hint of apprehension. “I was just—” “Enjoying yourself?” he finished for you, his tone betraying the irritation he felt. His eyes flicked to the man beside you, who now seemed to realise that he was dangerously close to crossing a line.

You could feel the tension radiating off Rafe, and for a moment, the mask you wore so effortlessly began to slip. “We were just talking,” you said, your voice softer, trying to defuse the situation. Rafe didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he simply held the man’s gaze, the unspoken message clear. His lips were pressed into a thin, unamused line.

After a beat too long, the man cleared his throat awkwardly, offering a quick smile before excusing himself and disappearing into the crowd. The moment he was gone, Rafe turned his attention fully to you, his eyes searching yours for something you weren’t sure you could give him. “You really know how to work a room,” he said, his voice low, almost accusatory.

You frowned, the frustration you had been trying to suppress bubbling back to the surface. “That’s what you’re upset about?” you asked, your voice edged with irritation. “That I’m doing exactly what’s expected of me?” Rafe’s jaw tightened as he stepped closer, his voice low and tight. “Expected by who?” His question was pointed, his proximity forcing your chests to brush against each other, the closeness amplifying the tension.

You turned your gaze away, struggling to maintain your composure. “Your parents?” Rafe continued, his voice carrying an undercurrent of bitterness. “Or you?” The question hung in the air, laden with implications neither of you were fully prepared to confront. Before you could say anything more, a voice called out your name, pulling your attention away. Another guest, eager to engage you in conversation.

Rafe took a step back, giving you space to go back to your role, but his gaze lingered on you, the unspoken words between you leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. “Go on,” he murmured, his tone resigned. “Do what you have to do.”

With one last glance at him, you turned and walked away, slipping back into the crowd, into the persona that was expected of you. And Rafe watched, the weight of your earlier argument pressing down on him as he wondered how much longer you could both keep up this charade.

~

As you engaged in conversation with one of the Carmichaels, you felt a hand on your shoulder. Turning, you found Edward's face set in a serious expression. “I think you should go to the foyer,” he said in a low voice, his tone laced with urgency. Confused but concerned, you excused yourself from the conversation, and Edward guided you through the crowd, his presence a silent support.

When you arrived in the grand foyer, your eyes widened in shock. Your mother stood by the railing, her stance rigid and her face a mask of fury. As she turned to face you, the anger in her eyes was unmistakable. The sight made your stomach drop. “What’s going on?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly as you approached her.

Without waiting for a reply, you followed her gaze over the railing. Below, Rafe was swaying slightly, a glass of whisky in hand, his eyes unfocused. “Ah! There she is, little miss perfect!” Rafe slurred, his voice carrying up to where you stood. He took another swig of whisky, his bleary eyes locked onto you. The mixture of embarrassment and anger made your cheeks flush red, and you felt a sting behind your eyes as a few onlookers turned to see what was happening.

Your mother’s disdainful scoff cut through the mounting tension. “Is he a grown man or a teenage boy? Keep your husband in line. This is an embarrassment!” she spat before turning on her heel and walking away, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. You felt a surge of anger and humiliation as you looked back down at Rafe in his disheveled state.

You made your way down the grand staircase, your heels clicking aggressively on the marble floor as you blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. “What the hell is wrong with you?” you demanded, your voice trembling with a mix of fury and distress. “Are you out of your mind, Rafe? Are you seriously trying to embarrass me—” You reached out to grip his forearm, but he roughly shoved your hand away.

“Oh, I’m embarrassing you?” Rafe retorted, his tone dripping with sarcastic bitterness. “Yes!” you fired back, your voice rising as the intensity of the moment escalated. The two of you stared at each other, the space between you charged with mutual frustration. Your chests heaved with heavy breaths, the argument pushing the boundaries of your composure.

“We’re leaving,” you declared firmly, brushing past him as the doors swung open. The brisk, cold air hit your bare shoulders, making you shiver as you hugged yourself against the chill. As you stood by the curb, waiting for your car to arrive, you felt a heavy weight draped over your shoulders.

Turning, you saw Rafe standing there, his jacket missing and his hands tucked into his slacks. You rolled your eyes in exasperation, brushing the jacket off your shoulders and letting it fall to the ground. When the valet finally arrived with the car, you quickly climbed in, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it with a decisive click.

Rafe’s hand grasped the handle as he tried to open the door, his expression a mixture of surprise and frustration. The driver, sensing the tension, hesitated. “Miss?” he asked with a note of uncertainty, glancing at you through the rearview mirror. “Drive,” you said coldly, not even bothering to look at Rafe. “He can find his own way home.”

You leaned back in the seat, trying to steady your breathing as the car pulled away, leaving Rafe standing alone on the cold, gravel driveway.

[callmeagardengnome]

✗ blood in the clouds ✗ | KIM HONGJOONG

pairings ✃ mafia leader! hongjoong x flight attendant! fem! reader

genre ✃ mafia au, non-idol au, SLOW BURNN

synopsis ✃

it’s finally your last day as a flight attendant. you wanted nothing more than to laze on your couch and watch netflix - just to find out that one of your passengers blew out the brains of your pilot with a gun.

in which hongjoong hijacks a plane that his rival’s daughter is on.

w.c ✃ 10.5k (yes im a yapper im sorry)

c.w ✃ dark themes, vivid descriptions of gore, guns and knives, kiss scene but no smut, use of the nickname ‘brat’, ‘pretty’ and ONE TIME - ‘princess’, your dad’s a dick oops, vulgar language, reader is smart

not proofread!

masterlist

white clouds drifted by the airplane window as the sky turned from a soft blue to a deep orange.

it would’ve been a pretty sight if it weren’t for the gun to your head.

you’d called in sick or put in your two weeks notice earlier if this was how your last day of being a flight attendant would end - but apparently, life hates you too much to let you catch a break.

HOUR 1 OF 7 - TAKEOFF

‘god- i can’t take this anymore,’ you thought to yourself. you hated waiting, despised it actually. 

after today, no more jet lag, rushed goodbyes or missing celebrations. you can finally unpack that suitcase for good, find someplace quiet and actually live in it. the thought alone was enough to keep you excited, but something bothered you at the back of your mind.

this trip didn’t feel right.

it wasn’t the plane itself, but your passengers? only 2 showed up in a plane that could seat at least 50 people. 

not that you were complaining. fewer passengers meant less work - which was a good thing. 

but the uneasiness you felt kept rising in your chest, no matter the times you tried to push it down. 

‘just 6 more hours,’ you thought. ‘then this will all be behind me.’

HOUR 2 OF 7 - MEALTIME

meal service started like any other: boring. 

after handing out the trays, you pushed the trolley back to its place and returned with beverages. you plastered on your most professional smile as you walked over to your passengers. “would you like a drink?”

the man with sunglasses turned to you lazily, his eyes shifting from the trolley to your face. “what do you have?”

you sighed, quietly but deeply. you had that stupid list engraved into your mind by now. “water, coffee, tea, coke, spri-” 

“-do you have alcohol?” he cut you off. 

your eye twitched. this dickhead.

first of all, he interrupted you. and secondly, you didn’t mention the alcohol on purpose. it was stored at the back of the plane and you did not have the energy to drag it out. 

“uh hongjoong- i mean, boss-“ the guy next to him whispered hurriedly. “i don’t think that’s a good idea-“

“-i think it is,” hongjoong interrupted before turning back to you. “where’s the menu?”

you gave him a forced smile as you pushed the alcohol menu towards him. he took his time with it, flipping through the pages slowly before finally saying, “two shots of whiskey.”

“sure thing,” you snatched the menu back. with a swift turn, you fetched the whiskey and the glasses, returning back to his seat.

you poured and placed the two shots on his tray table. he took the glass and drank it in one go, setting it back down with a thud. 

hongjoong then turned his head towards you, eyebrows raised. “what?”

you blinked. ‘what’? just ‘what’? where's the ‘thank you’? 

you were losing your mind.

“nothing,” you muttered through clenched teeth, moving away before he could ask for anything else.

grade A asshole.

HOUR 4.5 OF 7 - POINT OF NO RETURN

the shitty in-flight wifi was a joke as always. why did you even try?

with an annoyed sigh, you shoved your phone into your back pocket when suddenly-

static.

its piercing sound followed by faint garbled voices on the intercom startled you. you frowned as the sound continued, getting louder and more distorted.

with a groan, you stood up, straightening your uniform. ‘what are they doing?’ you thought as you walked towards the cockpit.

but when you passed by the first-class cabin, you paused. the seats were empty. both passengers were gone. ‘weird…’

things only got weirder as you approached the unlocked cockpit door. 

concerned, you pushed it open.

the smell hit you first - a metallic tang that twisted your stomach.

then your eyes caught up.

blood splattered the walls and windows in chaotic streaks, dripping down to the controls and the carpeted floor. the pilot and co-pilot laid in a gruesome pile to the side, the jagged holes in their skulls grotesque. 

a guy sat at the controls, steering the plane as though he wasn’t surrounded by horrors. 

grade A asshole- no, hongjoong, sat cross-legged on the floor, his sunglasses shattered at his feet. a gun rested in his hand and his lips curled into a smirk as he watched you enter.

“you’ve got to be kidding me..” you breathed out. 

pieces of brain and organ matter clung to the control panel as a simple blinking green light above that indicated that everything was, somehow, still functioning.

hongjoong tilted his head, amused. the gun shifted to point at what you now noticed was the crumpled bodies  of your pilots, their faces mangled in unrecognisable masses of flesh and bone.

“these your friends?”

you shook your head as you stepped back, wiping your sweaty hands on your uniform. hongjoong seemed to enjoy your reaction, his grin widening into something sickening. 

he smirked. “don’t worry, i won’t spoil that pretty face of yours.”

you coughed at the wretched smell as the crimson-stained carpet squelched beneath your heels, your mind begging you to leave.

“well-” you said, turning to the door. “i’m sure you don’t need me here, i’ll just-”

an audible click cut you off.

you froze.

slowly, you turned back to see a gun aimed directly at you.

“leaving so soon?” he raised an eyebrow. “let’s talk.”

HOUR 5 OF 7 - SKYDIVING DOESN’T SEEM TOO BAD

hongjoong dragged you to the first-class section to ‘talk’. it was the first time you’ve ever sat there and to be completely honest, this was not how you imagined yourself ‘enjoying’ it.

well, not like it mattered. you had other issues - like handcuffs locking you to the chair.

he stood infront of you, one hand gripping the gun while the other held a file. “‘____’, am i right?” he asked. 

you nodded slowly. “..that’s me.”

“3.6 GPA in university..” he muttered. “flunked out of med school during your first year..”

..how the hell did he get that information?

“you ended up as a flight attendant because your father owns the airline.”

“..yeah,” you reluctantly admitted, your stomach churning. “uh- was the med school part necessary?”

hongjoong ignored you, flipping to the next page. you watched his eyebrows shoot up as his eyes narrowed. “how close are you with your father?”

you blinked, confused by the weird question. “i mean- he’s my dad,” you replied. “but i haven’t seen him in years.”

“hm,” the sound came from him. hongjoong studied you for a moment longer before he spoke again, but this time, his voice was cold.

“do you know what he’s been doing during those years?”

your brows furrowed. “no, i-”

“killing. my. men.”

you didn’t even have time to process his words because he leaned forward when he said them, the gun uncomfortably close to your face. 

you swallowed the lump in your throat. “...are you sure you have the right person?”

his smirk widened into something eerie. “i have a gun pointed to you, don’t i?”

your pulse quickened. you couldn’t decide which was worse: the possibility that he was telling the truth or the fact that he was clearly enjoying your reaction.

“i always wanted to get back at that pig..” he held the gun up to the bottom of your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “and look at how kind the world is- blessing me with his daughter.”

you struggled to breathe, to think. the handcuffs dug into your wrist as you unconsciously tried to break out of them, a clink against the metal arm of the chair.

your voice trembled. “..what do you want from me?”

hongjoong didn’t answer immediately. instead, he leaned in even closer, so close that you could feel your foreheads touching.

“what i want,” he said slowly, eyes locked onto yours. “is for your dad to suffer.”

HOUR 6 OF 7 - SURPRISINGLY ALIVE

the stuffiness of the plane did little to calm your nerves. you sat quietly in the seat, staring at the shattered remains of your phone on the floor.

hongjoong snatched it from your hands a few minutes ago, grumbling about how ‘you don’t need devices’. great. just great. 

the sound of the cockpit door creaking open drew your attention. the other guy - or ‘pilot’, stepped out, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. “boss.”

hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “what?”

the ‘pilot’ moved closer to hongjoong, lowering his voice. “air traffic control was notified of our path,” he said quietly. “they know something’s off with the plane, but i have no idea how.”

hongjoong’s eyes darkened as he processed the information. then, he glared at you, like he was accusing you.

you scoffed. “you shot my phone, how would i even contact anyone?”

for a moment, the two of you locked eyes and you swear that you could see him debating whether to believe you.

the ‘pilot’ cleared his throat. “what should we expect?” he asked nervously.

hongjoong leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair. “the police.”

HOUR 7 OF 7 - SHIT IS GETTING REAL

“what the hell…” you whispered to yourself as you peered out of the window.

SWAT teams and federal agents stood in rows, their weapons pointed directly at the plane. flashing lights of red and blue lit up the empty airport. 

you turned away from the window, watching hongjoong pull out a burner phone from his jacket. his fingers typed something out before he suddenly snapped the phone in half, tossing the remains on the floor. 

“…who are you?” you asked quietly.

he raised an eyebrow. “you don’t need to know, pretty.”

your survival instincts told you to move, to do something. but the second you tried to stand, hongjoong shoved you back down. 

“stay seated until we land,” he said before tilting his head. “isn’t that your job?”

you rolled your eyes, gripping the armrests as you tried to calm yourself down and steady your breathing. 

but that was when you heard it - gunshots. 

“they’re shooting us?” you panicked, flinching with each sound. 

no answer.

“hey-“ you tried again, but was cut off by the tires hitting the terrain. 

the landing was rough - harsher than anything you’ve experienced as a flight attendant. the plane rattled like never before.

your chest tightened when it rolled over something particularly large. “what was that?” your voice cracked. 

no answer. 

when the plane finally came to a halt, you barely had time to catch your breath when hongjoong moved. in a blink, he uncuffed you from the chair, only to secure the handcuffs on your wrists once more. 

he brought you to your feet, pulling you so close that you could feel his breath against your ear. “don’t do anything stupid,” he hissed. 

the cockpit door opened and the ‘pilot’ appeared. he quickly unlocked the emergency exit and you saw the makeshift ramp that had been attached to the side of the plane. 

a van rested just outside of it, hongjoong dragging you towards the vehicle. you descended the ramp, the cool air hitting your face as you looked around. 

but that was when you saw it. 

blood. 

on the wheels of the plane, the dark colour leaving a fresh trail on the ground.  

“did you..” you gulped, your voice barely above a whisper. “did you run over them?”

hongjoong glanced at you. “i didn’t,” he shrugged. “the plane did.”

you stopped in your tracks, your feet stuck rooted to the ground as you stared at him in horror. how could he say that like it was no big deal? just who was this man?

“move,” hongjoong ordered. but when you didn’t, he clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes. “god- you’re such a brat.”

before you knew it, you were shoved into the back of the van. the ‘pilot’ closed the door with a loud slam and sat in the driver’s seat while hongjoong took the passenger’s seat up front. 

you met hongjoong’s eyes through the rearview mirror. his glare was sharp, acting as a warning to keep your mouth shut. you didn’t need to be told twice.

the van drove forward and you caught glimpses of city lights in the distance, slowly growing closer. civilisation - maybe you could get help. 

but against your mind’s wishes, you felt your eyelids getting heavy - and you did something that no one should ever do when they’re in a car with armed strangers.

you fell asleep.

HOUR 14 OF 7 - HIP HIP HOORAY YOU’RE NOT DEAD

you heard a voice whine. “why can’t we kill her?” 

“do you want boss to kill us?” you heard another reply.

your eyes fluttered open. your head felt heavy as the room came into focus, your stomach twisting. 

the space was dingy, poorly lit by a bulb hanging from the ceiling and an unnecessarily tall lamp on the ground. the walls were stained and the air stunk of blood.

you tried to move, only to feel tight ropes against your wrists and ankles. you were tied to a chair.

“i can’t believe we have to babysit the pig’s daughter,” a man with a knife groaned.

“calm down, wooyoung,” the other one sighed.

“calm down?!” wooyoung exclaimed. “yeosang got to fly a plane! how is that fair?”

“he has a license,” the second man rolled his eyes. 

“it’s still a plane, jongho-”

“shut up,” jongho interrupted. “the girl’s awake.”

both men turned their heads to look at you, the sudden attention sending a shiver down your spine. wooyoung’s grin stretched across his face as he got to his feet, jongho following behind.

“aw look who’s finally awake,” wooyoung approached, his voice childish. “you slept like a baby- and we didn’t even drug you!”

your heartbeat quickened as he leaned in close, his grin widening as he studied your face.

“i read your file,” he began. “you’re smart…” wooyoung paused, his eyes inspecting you and your ridiculous uniform. “and hot.”

your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to respond. “thank you-?”

“-what’s your favourite feature about yourself?” he asked, twirling the knife in his hands.

“uh-” your mind scrambled for an answer as he got nearer, the knife glinting. “i- my eyes?”

“your eyes,” wooyoung repeated, the grin stuck to his face. “good choice.”

he brought the knife closer, the cold steel trailing down the side of your face. you flinched as the blade hovered near your eye, your breath hitching.

“you’re going to answer all our questions,” he stated, almost in a sing-songy way. “and if you dont-”

he tilted the knife, now directly above your eyeball. “-i’ll dig those lovely pearls out of your sockets.”

your chest tightened, terror paralyzing you from head to toe. you couldn’t even breathe, every cell in your body pleading you to stay still.

“hey-” jongho tapped wooyoung on the shoulder, whispering. “uh.. boss said we can’t scratch her..”

“are you serious?” wooyoung scoffed. “then what’s the point?”

jongho bit the inside of his cheek, avoiding eye contact with his friend.

wooyoung groaned, throwing the knife to the ground with a strength that made it bend. “fuck this- torture isn’t even fun anymore.”

he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

silence was in the air until jongho cleared his throat awkwardly. he turned to face you. “uh..” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“change of plans.”

HOUR 15 OF 7 - DAY DRINKING IS FUN

you never imagined yourself in a hideout, drinking vodka with one of your captors - yet here you were. 

the whole thing felt absurd: a shaky barstool beneath you and a scuffed counter separating you and jongho. he poured you a shot he claimed was ‘very expensive’, before proceeding to chug most of the vodka from the bottle in a long gulp. 

your legs were untied now, though your wrists were still bound, the rope loose enough for your hands to rest infront of you. “what are we waiting for?” you asked. “hongjoong?”

jongho froze, his eyes snapping to yours. “don’t say his name,” he whisper-shouted.

you raised your tied wrists in apology. “okay.. what should i call him?”

“call him boss.. or mr kim.. or anything that isn’t his first name,” jongho said, his words rushed. 

you nodded slowly, looking at the man infront of you with mild concern. he looked even more scared than you did. 

then suddenly, the door slammed open. 

both you and jongho flinched, watching two figures stumble in. 

the first was a tall man - storming into the room. the second was him, hongjoong, clutching his side in pain.

“mingi- boss!” jongho panicked instantly as he ran to help the injured man. “holy- you’re hurt!”

“the pig called for backup,” mingi sighed heavily. 

you blinked, stunned as the sound of hongjoong coughing violently brought your attention back to the injured man. 

blood seeped through his fingers, staining his sleeves and skin. you don’t know what took over you, but you pushed yourself off of the barstool and rushed towards him. 

“what do you think you’re doing?” mingi stepped infront of hongjooong, his hand resting on his gun protectively. 

you glared at him. “do you want your boss to bleed out?”

mingi studied you. after what felt like ages, he exhaled sharply and stepped aside. “fine,” he muttered, keeping a hand on his weapon. 

you knelt next to hongjoong, trying to make him face you as you grabbed his arm. though, he snatched himself away from you quickly. 

you rolled your eyes. “i’m trying to help you. let me see it.”

hongjoong’s eyes pierced your soul. you could see the cogs in his head turning on whether he could trust you. 

a few moments passed before he finally faced you with a sigh, revealing a large gash on the side of his stomach - a wound created by knife. 

“i need water.” 

jongho blinked, clearly thrown off. “what?”

“to clean his wound..?” you explained. “get me water. now.”

jongho hesitated before snatching a bottle of water from a mini fridge. he pushed it to you, the little amount of liquid sloshing inside. “you should stay still for this,” you said before slowly pouring the water over the wound. 

crap- a gash this big needed a stitch. 

“untie me,” you said, holding your wrists up to your captors. 

jongho glanced at his boss worriedly for permission. hongjoong gave a small nod and jongho quickly pulled out a small knife to cut the rope. 

once free, you quickly looked around for something to stitch his wound with. when nothing looked remotely useful, your eyes dropped to your uniform - a skirt with a yarn trim. it wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do.

you began to unravel the yarn from the hem.

“what are you doing?” mingi asked, frowning.

“stitching him,” you sighed as your fingers worked hurriedly. “or do you want him to get an infection?”

hongjoong let out a groan, shifting uncomfortably. “just hurry.”

you finished unravelling it, but now you needed a needle. your hand instinctively reached up to your hair - pulling out a small bobby pin. it was definitely not as sharp as a needle, but you’re sure that hongjoong can handle his pain.

“shit- i need to sterilise this,” you muttered, mostly to yourself.

“vodka,” jongho said instantly, grabbing the bottle and handing it to you.

you poured the small amount over the pin, letting it drip onto the floor. then, threading the yarn through the makeshift needle, you glanced at hongjoong.

“this will hurt,” you warned.

he looked at you with clenched teeth. “i don’t care.”

you placed a hand on his side to steady him, feeling the tension in his muscles as he tried to not flinch. carefully, you began to stitch the gash, each pull making him wince. 

when the stitching was complete, you tied the yarn and tore it off with your teeth - but the wound was still bleeding slightly.

you glanced down at your sleeves. without hesitation, you tore a strip of fabric free. you used it to dab away the excess blood, then folded the remaining fabric to wrap it around his side. 

“that should work. for now,” you sat back as you wiped your forehead with your arm.

“...you know how to treat people?” hongjoong asked, wincing slightly. 

you nodded slowly. “yeah.. i know the basics.”

“hm,” he tilted his head. “you’re more useful than i thought.”

you blinked. was a good thing or a bad thing?

“wooyoung,” he yelled out. 

a loud crash was heard in another room, followed by the muffled sounds of frantic movements. within seconds, wooyoung appeared in the doorway. 

“yes, boss?” wooyoung said out of breath, brushing off his shirt as he looked around the room. 

hongjoong didn’t respond immediately. instead, he looked you up and down, his lips twitching into what seemed like a smirk. “get her some actual clothes. we have an event to catch.”

HOUR 17 OF 7 - WORDS TALK BUT GUNS TALK LOUDER

“woah..” your eyes took in the building before you. glittering lights and an impressive exterior that was way more extravagant than anything you imagined hongjoong to be involved in.

he parked the car, the engine coming to a stop. before you could say anything, hongjoong stepped out of the car, closing the door shut. you scrambled to follow him, your heels clicking against the pavement as you caught up.

the two of you approached the man stationed at the door - a bouncer with a pen and clipboard.

without warning, hongjoong’s hand snaked around your waist, pulling you snugly against his side. you flinched at the sudden contact, but with how tight his grip was, there was no room for protests.

“ah, mr kim,” the bouncer greeted. “you made it.”

hongjoong offered a brief, fake smile before dropping it immediately. “let us in.”

“hold on now,” the bouncer said, flipping through the papers on the clipboard. “we can’t let her inside.”

hongjoong’s brows furrowed. “why?”

“new policy,” the man sighed, pretending to sound disappointed. “no more plus-ones.”

hongjoong rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond. instead, he reached into his blazer, about to pull out a-

“nevermind!” the bouncer’s face turned pale. he stepped aside with a nervous laugh. “you’re all set- enjoy the night.”

the interior was breathtaking - chandeliers hung from high ceilings and round tables were scattered across the venue, draped in pristine white table cloths. 

“don’t eat or drink anything here.”

you blinked, nodding slowly at hongjoong’s words. “okay.. but why-”

“-and if you really want to stay alive,” he interrupted, his lips brushing your ear. “don't leave my sight.”

his voice sent a chill down your spine. “okay,” you mumbled as he brought you further into the room.

he led you to a seating area - though it looked more like a conversation pit, where an old man sat waiting. 

hongjoong released his grip on you to sit across the man, gesturing for you to follow. you hesitated briefly before settling next to him.

“mr kim,” the old man greeted gruffly. his eyes shifted to you, studying your face. “i see you brought someone.”

hongjoong gave a nod, glancing at you. “introduce yourself, brat.”

“oh uh-” you put out your hand reluctantly, forcing a polite smile. “i’m ‘____’.”

the old man’s eyes narrowed before they widened in realisation. “her father-“

“-i’m glad you noticed,” hongjoong cut in. he slowly reached into his blazer again, but this time, he actually pulled out his pistol. 

your eyes widened as he aimed it to your waist, the cold metal brushing your side. “wha-“

“w-what are you doing?” the old man’s face drained of colour, panic flashing in his eyes. 

hongjoong tilted his head. “let’s negotiate.”

“mr kim-“ the old man began, his voice cracking. “as his friend, you do understand that i have to tell him she’s here.”

“do it,” hongjoong shrugged, leaning back. his arm returned to your waist, pulling you to him as he tapped the gun against your side. 

“let’s see if he values his money more than his own daughter.”

HOUR 18 OF 7 - LIFE ISN’T FAIR

a loud crash echoed through the venue, making you jump. the sound of heavy footsteps grew violent with every second.

hongjoong’s hand tightened around your waist as he stood, dragging you up with him. “move.”

“wait-!” the old man called after you, but hongjoong didn’t stop.

his grip on you was firm, the barrel of his gun pressing against your stomach. you tripped over your feet, struggling to keep up his pace.

“where are you taking me?” you panicked as you glanced over your shoulder at the armed men closing in.

“to your father, princess,” he sneered, his voice mockingly sweet. 

“mr kim! stop right there!” 

you froze, whipping your head around. standing at the far end of the room, infront of a small army of armed men, was your father. 

“let go of my daughter,” your father ordered. he pointed a gun directly at hongjoong, his men following suit. 

your eyes glanced around the room - seeing guests cowering against the walls, some injured and others dead.

“i’m not giving up the brat until i get what i want,” hongjoong demanded.

“what you want is an impossible amount of money!” your father yelled, his grip on his gun tightening.

“impossible?” hongjoong’s eyes widened with craze. “you have more than $500 million tied to your name! did you think i’ll forget who you killed to get here?”

your blood ran cold. “dad.. you killed people?” you asked, your voice trembling as you looked at him.

for a split second, your father’s eyes softened, though that quickly disappeared with a scoff.

“if i didn’t, you wouldn’t have a roof over your head,” your father spat. “you were too stubborn to do anything after you dropped med school.”

the world seemed to tilt, your father’s words more piercing than any bullet. “but i didn’t-”

“-you did,” your father interrupted you. “i spent all that money bribing them just for you to fuck up.”

your heart sank as tears welled in your eyes. hongjoong noticed your reaction, his grip on the gun loosening slightly. 

“i’d appreciate it if you didn’t make my hostage cry,” he said. “do you really want those to be your last words to her?”

“shut up,” your father snarled, his finger close to the trigger. “i’ll say what i want. she’s too stupid to argue back anyway.”

the tears you held back spilled over and all you could hear was your dad shouting, “get her!”

HOUR 18.5 OF 7 - THEY WANT YOU SOO BAD

gunshots were heard in every direction, completely deafening. 

the pungent smell of gunpowder burned your nose as you stumbled, your legs barely holding you up. hongjoong shoved you to the ground, his hand against your back. 

“stay down,” he ordered you, raising his gun and firing without hesitation.

you flinched with every shot, watching in horror as armed men fell one by one with his aim. the world felt like it was spinning too fast and you could barely keep up.

suddenly, a hand grabbed your arm.

“stop moving!” your father yelled, his grip painful as he dragged you towards the exit.

“no!” you choked out, your heels digging into the floor in an attempt to resist. panic ran through your veins as your eyes darted around desperately.

your eyes landed on a fallen gun near your feet. you quickly snatched it, hands trembling as you tried to point it towards him.

“don’t make me do this!” you cried.

your father didn’t stop and without thinking-

-you pulled the trigger.

a bang was heard, followed by his rough scream as he collapsed to the floor, clutching his bleeding thigh.

“oh my god,” you whispered, the gun slipping from your hands as tears flowed uncontrollably down your cheeks. you sank to the floor, staring at the blood pouring out of him.

“you bitch!” he shouted in pain.

out of the corner of your eye, you caught hongjoong watching you, something strange flashing across his face. was that.. surprise? pride? maybe he was impressed?

hongjoong fired a shot at an armed man without looking, moving to you quickly. 

“didn’t think you had it in you, pretty,” he looked over his shoulder. “but we need to leave.”

he led you to a small janitor’s closet near the exit. the narrow space smelled of bleach, but at least it was quiet.

hongjoong shut the door behind you and dusted off his blazer. without a word, his dark eyes inspected you, checking your shoulders and arms.

you stood motionless, too shocked to stop him as he gently tilted your chin up, his thumb wiping away the mascara-stained tears from your cheeks.

“nothing broken,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “no scars either..”

he pulled out a burner phone, typing something quickly.

“i- i just shot my dad,” your shoulders shook as new tears welled up in your eyes.

hongjoong glanced up from the phone, meeting your eyes. “..are you bragging?” he asked bluntly.

“what? he’s my dad-”

“-and he’s a dick,” hongjoong cut you off. “you might share blood, but that man clearly hates you.”

you hiccuped, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “...am i going to hell?”

hongjoong scoffed. “come on-“ he began, but stopped himself when he looked at you and the tears spilling from your eyes. “you didn’t kill him… you’re fine.” 

you opened your mouth to protest but he silenced you as he continued typing. “and even if you did,” he added. “you’re doing the world a favour.”

he smashed the burner phone onto the ground, discarding the pieces. he reloaded his pistol before turning back to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he led you through bodies and debris.

outside, a black van waited by the curb. hongjoong pushed you inside before climbing in after you, slamming the door shut behind him.

“drive,” he ordered.

as the street lights went past you, you slumped in your seat, completely exhausted. “where are we going?” you asked softly.

hongjoong studied you for a moment, watching your eyelids go heavy. “...go to sleep, brat.”

DAY 2 - OH HONEY I'M HOME

you woke up with a jolt. you sat up from the couch you laid down on, completely disoriented. your eyes darted around the dimly lit room. the hideout. 

relief and fear spread within you. you were safe - for now.

just then, a knock from the doorway made you jump. “didn’t mean to scare you,” a man said, leaning against the frame. “boss wanted me to check on you.”

you blinked. “i- okay,” you coughed to clear your throat, wincing at how dry it felt.

“i’ll let him know you’re awake.”

and with that, he disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone once more.

though that didn’t last long. moments later, hongjoong entered. he carried a stool over, setting it down across from you before sitting. 

“how long did i sleep?” you asked hoarsely.

“a day,” he replied with a shrug.

your eyes widened. it was only then you noticed your attire - a baggy t-shirt replacing the outfit you were wearing before.

“who changed me?” you blurted out, heat rising to your cheeks.

“i did,” hongjoong answered. he noticed your flustered expression, tilting his head. “what?”

“did you-” you cleared your throat. “did you see anything?”

“i’m not a pervert,” he scoffed. “if it makes you feel better, you were changed in the dark.”

you fell into an awkward, heavy silence as you sat across each other. for the first time, there was no danger, no gunfire or anyone yelling out orders. just silence.

“your dad..” hongjoong began, speaking up. “wants you dead.”

“...what?”

he held up a cassette tape, tossing it onto the table between you, your hands trembling as you picked it up. hongjoong then brought out a cassette tape player, allowing you to hear your father’s voice.

‘mr kim, we’ve had our ups and downs, but i’m sure that we can agree on one thing - that bitch who shot my thigh is a liability. an idiot that made it this far because of me. she’s no longer my responsibility or family, so expect to find her head on a stick when you turn your back. have fun.’

“what the fuck..” you whispered shakily as it came to an end. 

“to be honest, your only purpose was to be a hostage.” hongjoong’s fingers drummed the edge of the stool. “and now that he doesn’t want you.. you’re useless-”

the world around you crumbled, his words making you feel worse. 

“-to him.”

your eyes widened, looking at him in confusion.

“you’re smart,” he shrugged. “and you stitched me.”

you blinked. “…where are you going with this?” 

“i want you to be an addition to my team,” he replied.

“do i have to kill people?” you blurted out. “or steal, or-”

“no,” hongjoong raised a hand to cut you off. “all you’ll be doing is treating my injured men. quite the opposite of killing.”

you frowned, furrowing your eyebrows. “why would you trust me with that?”

“because,” he said, leaning forward. “you have nowhere else to go.”

“that’s not true-”

“really?” hongjoong smirked. “do you know how many businesses your dad owns?”

you shook your head.

“more than 80% in the country,” his eyes sparkled with something dark. “now that you’ve shot him, you’ve burnt every bridge he’s built for you.”

your jaw dropped. “but-”

“no job, no family, nowhere to live either since he owns most of the real estate here.”

you stared at him, struggling to process his words.

“here’s my offer,” hongjoong continued. “you get a decent amount of money, a place to live and protection...”

“...just to treat people?” you asked in disbelief.

he nodded. 

you bit your lip, staring at the floor as you picked at your nails. how could your dad do this to you? abandoning you just like that? and now he wanted you dead? you could feel yourself getting angry just thinking about him.

after a long moment, you lifted your head, meeting his gaze. “deal.” 

MONTH 1 - FAMILY BONDING 

that evening, you sat on the floor with san, wooyoung and yeosang, eating a batch of cheap instant noodles. it was a little awkward - mostly because you just joined, but you were silently appreciating their efforts to make small talk with you. 

suddenly, a loud bang was heard through the hideout. the three men jumped up immediately, pulling guns and knives from who knows where. 

“back entrance?” wooyoung asked as he sharpened his knives. 

your heart raced as you watched the three of them shift into combat mode - and you caught yourself lagging behind. you hurriedly stood up and grabbed the medical kit you kept close. 

“stay here,” san said firmly. 

you shook your head. “if someone’s injured, i’m coming.”

the three of them shared a look before yeosang gave you a reluctant nod. “…just stay behind us. we’ll get in trouble if you get hurt.”

they moved swiftly and silently through the narrow halls of the hideout, weapons in hand. you trailed closely, your heart pounding as you gripped the medical kit tightly. 

when you reached the back entrance, san motioned you to stay back while they checked the door. 

the signs of forced entry were obvious - the lock was broken and scuff marks lined the floor. 

wooyoung scoffed, speaking under his breath. “stupid piglets.”

yeosang sighed. “looks like they took a few weapons and left.”

“are they testing us?” san asked, inspecting a footprint on the ground. 

before anyone could respond, the door slammed open making all of you jump. you turned to see mingi, his chest heaving as he leaned against the door frame. 

“meeting. now.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the hideout’s ‘meeting room’ was more of a cramped closet with mismatched chairs and a comically large table in the middle. hongjoong paced at the end of the room, his jaw clenched. 

“we can’t stay here any longer,” he began. “it’s only a matter of time before they come back in full force.”

hongjoong stopped pacing and crossed his arms. “we need to move back to our old apartments. they’re scattered enough to keep us hidden until we figure out our next move.”

you shifted uncomfortably. 

hongjoong noticed this. “what?” he asked, his sharp eyes landing on you. 

“i uh-“ you hesitated. “i don’t have a home..” you said sheepishly. 

hongjoong raised an eyebrow. 

“my dad owns the house,” you admitted. “and that’s not really an option anymore.”

“right,” hongjoong sighed, running a hand through his hair. “shit..”

“alright, who has space?” he clapped, glancing around the room. 

everyone exchanged uneasy looks. 

“we don’t,” yeosang said, gesturing to himself, san, wooyoung and jongho. “the four of us are already crammed into one place.”

“same here,” yunho spoke up. “mingi and i barely fit in ours.”

hongjoong turned to seonghwa, his face hopeful. 

“no,” seonghwa said without hesitation. 

a heavy sigh escaped hongjoong as he pinched the bridge of his nose. he leaned against the table, deep in thought. 

minutes stretched into what felt like hours before hongjoong finally spoke up. “you’re coming with me,” he said, looking directly at you. 

your eyes widened in surprise. “..what?”

“you’re staying at my place.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the car sped down the (somewhat) empty highway, the faint smell of vanilla from the air freshener mixing with the lingering scent of old fast food. 

you gripped the edge of your seat as the streetlights ran by the window in a blur. “are we in a rush?” you nervously glanced at hongjoong. 

“no,” he replied flatly. 

there was a black car beside you that had been keeping pace for the past few minutes - and just as you shifted in your seat, it suddenly swerved infront of your car and slammed the brakes. 

“what the-” you barely managed to say before the impact. the car jolted violently as it hit the one ahead, the sound of metal crunching loud. 

hongjoong let out a low string of curses under his breath. his face was weirdly calm as he unbuckled his seatbelt, stepping out of the car without a word. 

“wait-” you scrambled to undo your own seatbelt. 

from your seat, you saw him approaching the car. the moment he glanced inside, his eyes widened. he reached for his gun and pulled the trigger instantly. 

the loud gunshot made you flinch and your stomach twisted as you saw the slumped figure in the driver’s seat, blood splattered across the windshield. 

your heart pounded as you stumbled out of the car, rushing towards him. “why did you do that?!”

hongjoong turned to you, his jaw clenched. “it was a piglet.”

“wha-“ your eyes drifted to the body, a shiver going down your spine as you saw the bullet hole clean through the skull. 

hongjoong, completely unfazed, went back to the car. you stared at the lifeless body for a moment longer before hurriedly following him. 

once you were back inside, you swallowed the lump in your throat, attempting to break the suffocating silence. “….how did you know he was a piglet?”

hongjoong didn’t respond immediately. his fingers flexed against the steering wheel as he glanced at you. 

“they have a bullet tattoo..” he said finally, pulling down his collar to point to his collarbone. “..right here.”

you blinked. “oh.”

“if you ever come across one,” he continued. “kill them on sight.”

your eyes widened, your throat tightening. “what about the police?”

he fell silent for a second, his eyes fixed on the road. then, a faint smirk crossed his face. “you don’t need to worry about them.”

his answer left you unsettled, but before you could question him further, the apartment building came into view. it was modern - standing tall with the city skyline. 

hongjoong smoothly pulled into the parking lot. the abruptness of the stop sent you forward, but his hand shot out instinctively, pressing against you to keep you steady. 

“sorry,” he muttered, his voice soft - though he didn’t look at you as he retracted his arm. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

some might describe hongjoong’s apartment as ‘minimalistic’, but to you, it’s just an excuse for a grown man to avoid decorating. 

the walls were devoid of any art or family photos, the kitchen was spotless - though it was definitely untouched with how there was almost no food in the fridge. and from what you saw, the only source of entertainment was a lone TV. 

“do you..” you began, looking around the bare space. “do you even live here?”

hongjoong ignored your comment and walked towards the big couch and began to pull it into a makeshift bed. the springs creaked slightly as he unfolded it. “this is where you’ll be sleeping,” he said, dusting himself off. 

“cool.”

“don’t complain-“ he stopped himself mid-sentence and narrowed his eyes when he realised what you said. “wait, you’re okay with this?”

you blinked. “…yeah?”

“hm,” he said, slightly surprised. he looked you up and down before turning to the long hallway. “get some rest, we’re getting you a phone tomorrow.”

MONTH 2 - LIVE LAUGH LOVE GUNS

you should’ve known it wouldn’t be long before the piglets attacked you again. 

hongjoong sent you on a simple supply run - nothing unusual. but as you stood in the small pharmacy, you felt the air shift when the cashier’s demeanour turned cold. 

it all happened so fast. 

the moment you saw the gun aimed at your chest, your eyes fell to the faint outline of a bullet tattoo peeking out from his collarbone. great. 

your breath hitched as your body moved on impulse. you barely avoided the first shot as you ducked behind the display rack. 

the pharmacy was strangely empty, no one else to intervene. your heart pounded as the sounds of footsteps and gunshots echoed. 

fumbling with your phone, you dialed every number you could think of. yet, no one answered. 

your hands trembled as you typed hongjoong’s number, your last resort. 

he picked up after one ring. 

“this better be important, brat,” he grumbled, groggy like he just woke up. 

“i need help-” you semi-yelled as you narrowly dodged another shot, darting behind the counter. “i’m getting attacked-”

“-send your location,” hongjoong interrupted. “i’m on my way.”

the line went dead before you could respond. 

you sent your location and shoved the phone back into your pocket. the cashier reloaded the gun, his footsteps growing louder. and just as you moved, he charged. 

he grabbed you, trying to pin you down. you barely managed to fight back, until you made an educated attack - kicking him in the groin. 

he groaned, stumbling back. you took the opportunity to snatch the gun from his hands. 

you pointed it at him, your hands shaking. “stay back,” your voice cracked. 

the man scoffed. “over my dead body,” he lunged at you again. 

your finger moved instinctively, pulling the trigger. 

once. 

twice. 

again and again and again. 

the sound of gunfire rang in your ears, the recoil sending waves through your arms. you didn’t stop until you heard a clicking noise that meant that the gun was empty. 

when you opened your eyes, he was no longer standing. 

you looked down, the cashier laying sprawled on the ground, the concrete dark with blood. bullet holes littered his body, evidence of your frantic shots. 

you dropped to your knees, your chest heaving. you reached out to check his pulse. nothing.

you just took someone’s life. 

your eyes fell to your hands, bloody and shaking. from young, you always wanted to save lives - not take them. tears fell from your eyes, blurring your vision. 

the door slammed open. 

hongjoong stood in the doorway. he took in the body on the floor and your frozen form in a single glance. he sighed, stepping in. 

“come on, let’s go,” he crouched to grab your arm. 

you couldn’t move, your eyes fixed on the lifeless body. 

“hey,” his fingers gripped your jaw, tilting your face to meet his. his eyes were intense, his touch warm against your cold skin. “we need to leave before more show up. you don’t want to kill anyone else, do you?”

you shook your head quickly. 

he pulled you to your feet, wrapping his arm around yours as he guided you to his car. the ride back was silent as you stared out of the window. 

and before you knew it, you were back at his apartment. 

you hesitated at the door, unable to bring yourself to step inside. 

hongjoong sighed, grabbing your wrist as he tugged you in. he tossed his gun and his keys in the kitchen counter before turning to you. 

“go take a long shower. i’ll be in the living room.”

you nodded, moving to the bathroom in a daze. 

the water was scalding as it hit your skin. no amount of soap or scrubbing would ever make you feel clean from the bloodied-stains. every part of your body felt foreign - even your puffy eyes and lips.

once you were done, you dressed in the softest clothes you had, hoping that it would provide you with some form of comfort (it didn’t).

the pull-out couch was prepared with brand-new pillows and fluffy blankets when you returned to the living room. hongjoong sat on the edge, gesturing for you to sit. you sank down beside him. 

the silence stretched on until it became unbearable. 

you spoke up, your voice barely audible. “…i killed someone.”

“you did,” he nodded. “good job.”

your head snapped up, your eyes wide. “i killed someone.”

“and so have i,” hongjoong leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “does that bother you?”

“i…”

he leaned back. “it should. the first time always does.”

“i don’t think i can do this,” you breathed out shakily. “i don’t want to hurt people..”

the two of you locked eyes for what felt like ages. you could see hongjoong’s adam's apple bob up and down, his jaw tightening slightly. “no one wants to hurt people,” he replied softly. 

you blinked. 

“i shouldn’t have sent you out alone, especially with your dad targeting you,” he sighed. “that’s on me.”

“but-”

“-though i do have to say, this made me realise how.. unprepared you are,” he continued.

your eyebrows furrowed. 

“if you want to survive, you need to know how to defend yourself,” he drummed his fingers against the couch. “...you’re off supply runs. from now on, you’re training with the others.”

you stared at him. “what?”

“the rest have some ‘schedule’ for training. i’m sure you can join without any problems.”

you hesitated. the thought of the blood, the body, the gun in your hands made you nauseous. the idea of training scared you. 

he noticed this, his eyes softening slightly. “you won’t be a killer, just someone capable of self-defense.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat. finally, you nodded, your voice small. “okay.”

MONTH 3 - LET’S GO GAMBLING!

the casino was glitzy and loud with copyright-free music, its neon lights casting eerie shadows on the dark streets outside. 

“you three, cover left. you two, check the vault. the rest of you will stay near the exit,” hongjoong ordered.

you waited for your assignment, expecting to be grouped with someone. instead, hongjoong said, “you’re with me.”

you sighed. “alright.”

you followed hongjoong to the right side of the casino, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filling the space. he moved silently, keeping his gun concealed but ready. you tried to mimic his focus, clutching the knife wooyoung lent you earlier.

the first sign of trouble came when the alarms blared.

armed men swarmed into the casino. piglets.

hongjoong moved first, taking them down in a single shot. you ducked behind a pillar, your heart pounding.

the fight moved fast. hongjoong was precise - he wasn’t even touchable, killing the men easily.

but that was when you saw it before he did: a piglet creeping up behind him, raising and aiming the gun to his head.

“boss!”

without hesitation, you hurled wooyoung’s knife to the piglet.

the knife pierced and plunged into his neck, causing the man to fall, his gun clattering to the ground. 

hongjoong whipped his head around with wide eyes, shooting the man infront of him before spinning to kill the piglet you just hit.

the silence that followed was deafening.

hongjoong’s breathing was heavy as he lowered his weapon. he dusted his clothes off, looking at you with an unreadable expression.

he gulped, finally speaking up. “...good job, pretty.” 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

slowly, everyone regrouped in the corner, collapsing onto the floor in a circle. bottles of water were passed around as everyone caught their breaths.

for a while, no one spoke, the only sounds being an occasional groan.

“hey,” wooyoung hiccuped, breaking the silence as he turned to you. “give me my knife back.”

you looked at him awkwardly before handing him his completely bloody and dented knife - basically ruined.

“what the hell!” he exclaimed. “that was one of my favourites!”

you shrugged. “you shouldn’t have given it to me then.”

“i didn’t know you were actually gonna use it,” wooyoung complained. “i thought you would just watch.”

“you’re such a dick,” you rolled your eyes.

wooyoung leaned in closer - his voice annoyingly sweet. “aw, don’t be mad, sweetheart. i’ll get you a better knife- one that won’t bend in your delicate fucking hands.”

“shut up,” you groaned, shoving him lightly as the others chuckled.

hongjoong leaned against the wall, his arm crossed over his chest. his eyes shifted from wooyoung to you. 

his chest tightened in a now-familiar way: you’re fitting in too well.

it wasn’t jealousy - at least, that’s what he told himself. it was about control. your presence was a distraction he didn’t account for. but the others took you in so easily, which was technically a good thing, right?

and yet...

why did his stomach twist every time one of them smiled at you?

hongjoong blinked, realising how his leg was bouncing restlessly. he forced himself to stop, sighing deeply.

“you good, boss?” yunho asked.

hongjoong paused. “...i’m fine.”

yunho raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it, turning away.

hongjoong’s eyes returned to you. you were leaning a little too close to yeosang now, laughing at some joke wooyoung said - sending a strange pang through his chest.

why did this bother him so much?

you weren’t doing anything wrong. you were building trust, meshing with the group - just like he expected.

but this wasn’t about the group, was it?

he frowned, thinking. you stitched him right after he kidnapped you, you saved him from getting shot even though you were definitely not ready to fight.

what has he ever done for you?

introduced you to a world of crime? to a world of killing, stealing and hatred? accidentally ruined the relationship between you and your dad?

hongjoong closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

shit.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

without bothering to change, you sank into the pull-out couch - exhaustion pulling you to it like gravity.

you heard hongjoong locking the door behind him, the soft click sounding loud in the quiet apartment. his footsteps shuffled toward the kitchen, the sounds of cabinets opening and closing reaching your ears. you were way too tired to look.

you didn’t realise you drifted off until you were awoken by something heavy on your body.

your eyes fluttered open groggily. for a moment, you thought you were dreaming. hongjoong was in the middle of draping a large blanket on you.

“what are you doing?” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

his eyes darted to yours briefly. “nothing.”

you frowned, shifting to sit up - but he placed a hand on your shoulder, pressing you gently back down. “sleep.”

you let out a quiet sigh. “shouldn’t you be sleeping?” you muttered.

he paused, his jaw tensing. “....tomorrow onwards, you’re training with me.”

you stared at him, stunned. before you could even say anything, he turned and walked away without a word.

…did your boss just tuck you in?

MONTH 3.5 -  PUNCH, KICK, SNARE

“again,” hongjoong said, slightly out of breath. 

the living room felt smaller than usual with the two of you moving around. the coffee table and couch was pushed aside, leaving just enough space to practice your punches without tripping over the furniture. he claimed training here would teach you how to ‘fight in tight quarters’.

he sighed. “your moves are sloppy.”

you groaned, shaking your aching wrists. “i’m trying.”

“that’s not enough when someone’s aiming a gun at your head,” he replied, stepping back and raising hands. “your punches are too weak and your balance is all over the place. reset your stance.”

you rolled your eyes but obeyed, repositioning your feet. it wasn’t the first time you’ve heard those words from him.

hongjoong moved closer, tapping your wrist. “keep your guard up. always.”

you threw another punch, but it barely made his hands move. he lowered them, sighing. “that’s not going to hurt anyone-“

“-i’m doing my best, okay?” you snapped. “i’m not a fast learner.”

his eyes softened for a moment before narrowing again. “that’s not an excuse when your life is on the line.”

you tsked. he was right of course, but that didn’t make it easier to hear.

“again.”

you tried once more, throwing a combination of punches that he blocked with ease. when you attempted a kick, you stumbled, nearly losing your footing.

he caught you instinctively, his hands steadying you.

“watch your balance,” he said automatically, going on a tangent on how training is important and blahblahblah. 

you tried to focus on your surroundings, on the words he was saying, but it was hard to ignore the proximity between you. the smell of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of sweat in the room. his touch wasn’t rough or aggressive like you’d expect - it was gentle.

your eyes drifted to his face, catching the faint scars along his cheekbones and jawline. were those always there? or was this the first time you really noticed?

his brows furrowed, likely in frustration at your lack of response, but the concern in his eyes snapped you back into reality, making you realise that you were staring the whole time.

“i don’t think i’m cut out for this,” the words spilled out before you could stop them.

hongjoong paused, his lips parting slightly - he wasn’t  expecting you to say that. for a moment, he was silent. he then leaned in, his eyes piercing. 

“you don’t get to quit.”

the intensity of his voice made you forget about the aches in your muscles and the sweat dripping down your back. his words weren’t angry - they were commanding. 

“why do you even care?” you whispered, barely audible.

his grip on your arms loosened slightly, his eyes searching yours for what felt like eternity. then out of nowhere, he stepped back, clearing his throat as he avoided your gaze. “take five,” he mumbled, walking to the kitchen.

MONTH 5 - BLOOD, BLOOD AND MORE BLOOD

the office building looked ordinary. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was just another corporate HQ. but you knew better.

and so did hongjoong.

you held up the new knife wooyoung gave you, one that wasn’t as pretty as the last. it was finally the day you ambushed your dad, the man that’s been wanting you dead for months.

you looked up to face hongjoong. “i don’t want to see it,” you said suddenly.

he raised an eyebrow. “see what?”

“when you kill him. my dad,” you clarified, your throat tightening. “i’m.. okay with it, but i don’t want to see it.”

his eyes studied you. after a moment, he nodded. “make sure to stay close to me,” he said before turning to the building.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the group slipped into the building through the side. hongjoong led the way, gripping his pistol tightly as you stayed close behind him.

“elevators are too risky,” hongjoong looked back at the group. “we’ll take the stairs.”

the group nodded, their weapons drawn as they moved quietly through the halls. the fluorescent lights did nothing to mask the sinister aura that was buried in the walls.

when you reached the stairwell, the sound of footsteps echoing above sent everyone into high alert.

the first shot rang out.

gunfire filled the stairwell. the air was thick with smoke and gunfire. you pressed yourself against the wall, trying to avoid all of the attacks happening around you. you tried to go in to fight but-

-someone grabbed you.

you struggled, twisting out of their grasp. but before you could scream, a hand clamped over your mouth, dragging you away. “stay still.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the stench forced your eyes open - a horrid mix of stale cigar smoke and alcohol. the office was dimly lit and your father crouched infront of you, his face smug as he cornered you.

“you think you’re better than me, don’t you?” he sneered.

you glared at him, your heart pounding. “fuck off.”

a bitter laugh escaped his lips. “you’ve gotten worse since you joined that boy,” he spat. “should i cut off your tongue? unhinge your jaw? or maybe i’ll be basic and shoot you.”

“you’re insane,” your stomach twisted. “it’s hard to believe we’re related, especially with how ugly you are.”

“you-”

before he could finish, you jammed wooyoung’s knife into his other thigh, dragging it down to create a large gash. he let out a guttural scream, stumbling into a desk as blood gushed out of his thigh like a fountain.

you moved quickly, scrambling out of the corner, but two piglets grabbed you before you could get far.

“stupid bitch,” your father hissed, forcing himself up as he took out the knife in his thigh, looking directly at you. “you’re going to regret that.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

as hongjoong shot another piglet with his pistol, he looked around the haze, searching for a certain someone. “where’s ‘____’?” he asked.

the group stayed silent.

“shit- we don’t know,” wooyoung said nervously.

hongjoong’s face darkened - and without hesitation, he grabbed a nearby piglet by the collar, slamming him against the wall. “where’s your boss?” he snarled.

the piglet squirmed. “i- i have a family!”

hongjoong’s grip on his collar tightened, his eyes widening scarily. “then bring me to him.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“your mother should’ve gotten the abortion,” your father said before settling down infront of you, the bloody knife close to your face.

“i’m surprised that a woman like her fucked you,” you breathed out shakily as the blade hit your skin. 

“shut up-“

the door burst open as the knife grazed your skin. hongjoong stepped in, his gun raised. “let go of her,” he ordered.

the piglets hesitated, glancing between your father and hongjoong. your father’s hand didn’t move, a scar forming on your face. 

“you want her that badly?” your father asked mockingly. “you’re becoming soft.”

hongjoong didn’t answer. instead, he moved faster than you thought was possible, shooting the two piglets that held you with ease.

the bodies hit the ground - causing your father to shove you harshly against the wall. pain shot through your body as you heard something crack.

hongjoong froze, his pistol trained on your dad. 

“stay back,” your father warned, hovering the blade near your temple.

hongjoong’s jaw clenched. he dropped his gun slightly, making your father relax.

but then hongjoong lunged.

the fight was brutal, all punches and grunts. you slumped against the wall, your cheek bleeding uncontrollably as every part of your body ached.

after what felt like ages, hongjoong finally gained the upper hand, pinning your dad down as he pointed the gun to his head. but then his eyes landed on yours, wide and terrified - making him freeze.

“shit,” he cursed under his breath, lowering the gun. he turned and rushed to you, pulling you into his arms.

your father tried to crawl away, but hongjoong didn’t let him go far. with you in his embrace, he covered your eyes and ears tightly as the sound of a singular gunshot echoed in the room.

you clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt. his hand cradled the back of your head, his touch soft. “it’s over,” he whispered as you sobbed.

you shook your head against his chest, the salt in your tears stinging the cut on your cheek. “i almost died.”

“i know,” he said softly. “but i wouldn’t let that happen.”

his words settled over you like a warm blanket. you pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his face. you could feel the heat of his body as he kept you close.

hongjoong shifted, his hands moving to your shoulders as he looked at you carefully. his thumb brushed over your scar, wiping away the trail of blood on your face.

“you’re shaking,” his eyebrows furrowed. “you need to breathe.”

“i’m trying.”

he reached for a nearby chair and pulled it over, guiding you to sit. hongjoong crouched infront of you, your hands trembling in his.

“you’re safe,” his eyes locked onto yours. “i’ve got you.”

something inside you cracked at his words - and tears spilled once more. hongjoong didn’t say anything, but his presence was enough. he stayed crouched infront of you, letting you take all the time you needed.

when you finally looked up, there was something unspoken in his eyes - a mix of guilt and relief that made your heart ache. “...thank you,” you whispered.

his lips parted like he wanted to say something, but the words never came. instead, he nodded slowly, his grip on your hands tightening for a moment before letting go.

at that moment, you leaned forward, closing the small distance between you. your lips brushed against his, just enough to make his entire body stiffen.

for a second, you thought you made a mistake. his hands paused midair and his breathing hitched.

but then, he moved. to you. 

his hands cupped your face gently, pulling you closer into a kiss. it was slow at first, but when you gripped his shirt tightly - the feelings he’d been keeping were let loose.

his lips pressed against yours with urgency. his fingers tangled in your hair, holding you like you might disappear if he let go. 

you responded instinctively. your hands found his neck, his jaw - brushing over them softly in a way that made him groan. “fuck- you’re so pretty.”

the world around you spun in swirls of blood, smoke and cologne, overwhelming you in a way that made you lose your breath.

hongjoong broke away for a moment, panting slightly. his lips curled into a smirk, before he kissed you again, softer this time but no less intense. it was grounding, reassuring and impossibly warm.

when the two of you pulled back, his thumb traced your scar. “this..” he began quietly. “..this isn’t what i expected tonight.”

you let out a soft, shaky laugh. “me neither.”

he pecked your forehead as he stood up, his legs slightly wobbly from the kiss. hongjoong held out a hand, helping you to your feet. “...let’s go home.”

series taglist - @hanoishere @scuzmunkie @sinfullygay @arusio @midnightrebel1028 @neemaxx @seungminsrighthand @arilevenatz @ateezswonderland @beabatiny @lemirabitur @sunnyhokyu @frzzenfrxg @cylovesmg @txtsoobean @seonghwasslytherin @sundaybossanova @sweetinsaniiity @cybrnaya @choisanchwego @mrskill2

author’s note: this is the first oneshot of my mafia series! yes it is long but i promise you that it does eat and that you’ll enjoy it. remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed, any and all feedback helps!

BONUS SCENE - MINE

the apartment was quiet as you laid on the pull-out couch, staring at the ceiling. sleep wasn’t coming - your mind was too busy replacing the events earlier.

the memory of hongjoong’s arms around you stayed, along with the feeling of his lips on yours. how could a man as dangerous as him bring you such comfort?

a soft knock against the wall broke the silence.

you sat up slowly, seeing hongjoong standing in the hallway. his hair was slightly damp and he wore a loose black hoodie, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. he hesitated before walking to you, his movements weirdly awkward.

“...you okay?” you asked the nervous man.

he shrugged, trying to play it off as he sat next to you. “i’m fine. you?”

“i’ve been better.”

there was a pause as the two of you stared at each other, the silence heavy. finally, he cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably.

“i’ve been thinking..” hongjoong trailed off.

“uh-oh.”

“i-it’s not a bad thing-” he said hurriedly. “it’s just that.. tonight made me think about a lot of things.”

you tilted your head, confused.

his voice softened as he continued. “but this isn’t just about tonight. it’s about.. everything. i don’t want you to feel.. unsafe all the time.”

“i don’t,” you said instantly, but you’re not sure how much you believed yourself.

he leaned back slightly, reaching into his hoodie pocket. when his hand reappeared, it was holding a pistol - his pistol.

“take this,” he held it out to you.

you blinked, staring at the weapon. “what? why?”

“because it’s mine,” he replied simply leaving no room for argument. “and now, it’s ours.”

you hesitated, your hand hovering over the gun. “i.. i barely know how to use this.”

“then i’ll teach you.”

you looked up at him, searching his face for answers. “...why are you giving this to me?”

you noticed the way his eyes darted down as you looked at him, his fingers tightening around the pistol as he pushed it to you. 

“because,” hongjoong began quietly. “i trust you.”

your fingers paused before finally closing around the gun. the cold metal felt deadly in your grasp, but the way his eyes lit up made your heart swell.

“you trust me..?” you asked softly, a faint smile on your face. “hongjoong..”

his usual composure faltered as you said his name, a blush dusting his face. he swallowed the lump in his throat, gathering himself. “you’re not just a part of the group,” he said. “you’re more than that. to me.”

your eyebrows shot up, completely stunned. “...i don’t know what to say.”

“say yes.”

you blinked. “yes to what?”

“to being mine,” hongjoong’s hands fidgeted slightly.

your heart raced as you heard his words. a wide smile spread across your face as you realised what he was really asking.

“are you..” you paused. “are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

his breath got caught in his throat as he nodded. “yeah.”

the man that was the literal leader of an entire gang, was sitting nervous infront of you. it was a funny sight to see, but you brought yourself back to reality, answering his question.

“yes.”

a wave of relief washed over his face as he let out the breath he seemed to be holding. he reached out, his fingers brushing yours briefly as he leaned closer. “wanna sleep in my bed tonight?”

deleted scenes | other fics

[acid-ixx]

young, just us?! (again &. again au)

ft. yandere young justice 98 x gn! reader

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

— masterlist !

off-topic, but i've been hyperfixating so much on the young justice (98 vers), that i've been thinking of another timeline where the entire team falls in love with you during one of their trips to the manor. i mean, who wouldn't? they want to know more about your unshakeable, yet warm presence, but they couldn't due to their teammate's indifference towards the first biological child, you.

so someone assertive like cassie slaps some sense into tim drake for his obvious negligence of you whenever you try to talk to him in front of the team, with her harsh tone and squinted glare, just to make it hurt more, that it just leads you finally catching his eyes—

whilst you're unaware of everything happening in the background scene.

cue his interest being piqued regarding you, his obsessive research that spirals into the need to be a constant in your life, and his attempts at bonding with you before it's too late; but with his team of course, because it's now he realizes just how lonely you truly are, with the lack of friends and hobbies only done by yourself, for yourself, in the ghostly manor— whilst all your siblings are out there fighting crime, socializing, with so many adventures that no normal person could comprehend.

tim is familiar with what it's like living in an empty house, before he became robin.

he trusts his teammates, his friends with his life, so it wouldn't be a problem if you were to be acquainted with them; it would be a problem, though, if he soon doesn't quench their thirst to meet with you yet again.

so imagine, one day, you're just out there gardening, humming tunes as always like routine, the next you're being dragged in impulse's arms of all heroes, his hold on you too intimate for a stranger you met once. tim's voice echoes through intangible earphones, lightly threatening the speedster to keep you safe through your fast travel. you're sped from the manor to places unknown, kissed by the air cutting through your body, until you're at their secret cave, surrounded by his teammates, dumbly looking around until a girl rips you away from impulse's arm to hug you tightly.

she acts as a cushion for you to lay your head on, dizzy from the motion enough to make you nearly vomit. but all she does is coo at your swaying head and push her palm on your nape to have you stabilize in hold.

"you okay, sweetie? i swear, if bart got you sick, i'm going to punch him so hard right now."

you're quite unsure how to reply, mind too numb to register the speedster voicing his complaints, or the disgruntled sigh from your brother who shakes his head, commenting under his breath about "keeping affection to a low, for now."

you've never been held this tightly for years, but she beats you through your disoriented tears right after a moment's beat. through your speechless squeaks, she offers you a soft and warm, "welcome, buddy!" her blonde hair glimmers under the light compared to yours.

she calls herself arrowette, suzanne king-jones her personal identity, but insists just as quickly that you call her cissie with your sweet little voice, you nod hazily. everything's happening at a hasty pace that you couldn't even question why nobody's batting an eye at the identity reveal to a civilian, a stranger that is you.

but just as quickly as she introduces herself, your attention is dragged to an all-too familiar, handsome face, his infamous sunglasses resting on his nose, piercings on his eyebrows, and raven sidepart as he shakes your hands and blows you a kiss. a batarang slices through the air and nearly misses his head, you could tell your brother's seething by now.

it doesn't take much for everyone else to introduce themselves after the awkward tension from superboy telling you to call him "baby".

but your mind is still spinning either way, from the daze of impulse's speed, or all the names being thrown into your head, while they all repeatedly shower you with compliments that has you reeling from the foreign domain of affection you've stepped foot on.

just like that, the team takes advantage of your timidness, your eyes plastered on the ground as your face flushes with blazing heat, fighting each other with verbal insults whilst praising themselves in front of you in a battle to assert who's better. it's tim taking your arms and dragging you off to another room that makes for a perfect distraction, apologizing for the sudden intrusion in your life, and how he's willing to make up for the negligence he's caused you from every since he came to the manor— that these people are going to be your new friends.

he says it all so assertively, like he's done his research and the data he's received are all correct, as if he's sure this is the greatest course of action for your life.

the transition from silence to a room filled with chatters, words all directed to you, rather than from a passing glance, their efforts to communicate with someone inept at socializing yet never giving up... well, you couldn't quite comprehend it yet, but tim could see how your face flushes with warmth and the jitters of your fingers from excitement at the implication of new and better... friends.

the taste of the word feeling so distant yet welcomed, he watches the smile slowly plastered on your face and brings his hesitant palms to pat the crown of your head still turned down, tangling his fingers in each strand to ruffle your hair.

it's totally not a way for him to memorize every detail of your being.

"let's, uh... turn our backs away from the past alright, (name)?" he says with an awkward lilt to his voice. you look up through your lashes, and find his pale face incredulously red while his eyes dart around the room. suddenly, you don't feel so trapped right now, and feel yourself giggling at his unsure words and stooping posture.

he panics and gulps, scratching the back of his neck. his eyes still refuse to stare straight at yours.

"— shit, sorry, 'm still not used to this comforting jig, but i'm serious about all this, about making it up to you while it's still early. so, uhm, i hope my friends aren't too... overwhelming for you. they're too excited, that's it."

it's finally at the end of his sentence that his eyes crinkle at the sight of you. you're still standing awkwardly, hesitant to open up yet still willing to make an effort if what he's saying is true.

there's still a shadow of doubt in your head, that this was all a dream, but everything feels so real. his touch feels so real.

it takes a split second for you to reply, still taking in the events that happened to you.

"it's... alright, maybe i'll learn to... forgive you, tim." your whisper sliced through the silent air, breathless, fiddling with your fingers, stepping closer to your brother. he hesitates, but brings his hands to rest on both sides of your shoulder.

his palms eventually made their way to hover on your face, you don't flinch, but you don't bring them closer to you either. it's an air of neutral comfort you're threading on.

"i'm... real grateful that you're willing to put up an effort for me..." it's as if you couldn't fathom that someone so talented, so important as tim drake could notice you and even apologize wholly without excuses. it doesn't take away the years, all the times he turned his back on you, and even mistakenly calling out the wrong name and flat out ignoring you, but if someone like him was willing to try— to even go as far as to have his friends become your friends.

well... who's to say you could deny the slight flutter in your chest at the sweet gestures?

it was you who initiated the hug, burying your head in his slumped shoulders, tears dampening his costume. your brother pats your back, and awkwardly cradles your body in the silent expanse of the room.

you don't feel the haste of his heartbeats, nor the goosebumps pervading his skin.

"thank you..." you mutter, relinquishing the fear that this was all a sick prank your mind has put you through, and embrace the sounds of the door suddenly slamming while your head still rests on the crook of your brother's neck, giggling through tears from bart's high-pitched squeals, the ghostly sounds of greta's overdramatic gasps and cassie's complaints of tim taking all your attention for himself.

from there on out, your presence kind of becomes a staple for the chaotic atmosphere of the team, a voice of reason whenever tim or cassie is too unhinged to deal with the others, they always kept their arguments light for the sake of your happiness. they like to treat you, finding your praises for each individual refreshing and sweet. you're unaware of just how much they truly loved you from the moment their eyes laid on the shadows of your form in the manor.

and you'd rather it stay that way, too invested in the never flitting feeling of being loved.

there's a saying, ignorance is bliss. you're in a state of happiness because this was the first time you had spent your time with someone you could call your brother. you had friends, welcoming from the start, unafraid to display their affection for you. hugs, cuddle piles, pats on your head, kisses on your cheeks, a target for kon's adorable flirting, bart's endless mumblings, even sitting beside your brother is enjoyable as he sifts through the big monitors in front of you, because at least now there's a hand you could fiddle with every time you become too bored.

how could you want to leave them after all this?

at least, in this timeline, you've willingly stepped into your own cage.

a/n: i'm this 🤏 close to disappearing off of tumblr for a year or two again because of my writer's block despite me posting more and more lately. the lack of motivation to write, and forcing yourself to write out the ideas you have in your head bec you're afraid of forgetting is such a shitty feeling. i'm on the verge of a hiatus, my imposter syndrome is at an all time high and i feel as if my writing has been lacking lately. so apologies, i might just quit if i can't get rid of this feeling. otherwise, i think we need more young justice (not the tv show) content, they're like my favorite hero team. i don't know what to feel about this drabble.

[hongjoongtime117]

Jenga and Jealousy

Pairings: Kim Hongjoong/Reader, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung

Genre: SMUT (MDNI 18+)

Word count: 12.6k

Warnings: choking, orgasm denial, Hongjoong is heavily tattooed and pierced, reader is a brat, unprotected sex (wrap it up, pleaseeee!), drinking, oral (F/M receiving), phone sex (sort of?), jealous Kim Hongjoong, pet names (baby, gorgeous, pretty, Kitten), Hongjoong has a Captain kink. Lemme know if I missed anything? lol

Summary: Wooyoung and San attempt to be your wingmen and invite Hongjoong over for a game night. Spicy Jenga makes for a jealous Hongjoong.

SPECIAL THANKS TO @mlwood1498 for helping with the spice when my brain was STUCK

“Yah! Y/N! We’re having a friend over tonight for drinks and games. You cool with that?” Wooyoung shouts from the kitchen where he’s making breakfast for him and San. You go to join him in the kitchen, Wooyoung’s cooking making your mouth water.

“I mean, I guess that depends on which friend, Woo” you sigh, already knowing it’s gonna happen whether you’d like it to or not. He was only asking out of courtesy. “Did you make some for me, too?” You plead with a pout and big doe eyes you know he can’t say no to.

“Pftt, of course I did. I definitely don’t want you in the kitchen. You almost burned down the entire apartment in your previous attempt to cook” he says, rolling his eyes ever so dramatically. “And the friend is Kim Hongjoong. Ya know, the one you’re always eye fucking?”

Your cheeks turn hot from the blush creeping across them, and San howls with laughter.

“I do NOT!” you scowl as you smack Wooyoung on the shoulder.

He turns away from the stove to face you and sees your bright red face. “I’d say the tomato color you're currently sporting tells me otherwise” a soft, veiny hand coming to pinch your cheeks.

“Yeah, Y/N. You make it so obvious” San says through his giggles. “Listen, we’re just trying to potentially be your wingmen tonight.”

“I dont NEED wingmen, you assholes!”

“Y/N, when was the last time you got a good dick down?” Wooyoung is looking at you, an eyebrow raised, waiting for an answer.

“Look, I don’t have a live in fuck toy” your eyes motioning between him and San. “It’s… been a while” you sigh dejectedly.

“Yeah, Y/N, we knew that. Which is why we’re trying to be good besties here and help you out. Even though you just called me a fuck toy” San says, feigning offense.

“Looks like we’re getting Y/N some dick tonight” Wooyoung lets out his high pitched cackle.

“I never even agreed to this” you whine. “And I think maybe you should pay more attention to your cooking than my sex life, before you burn the apartment down.”

“Just think about it, Y/N. We’re obviously not gonna force you into anything” Wooyoung shrugs.

“Does he even know the intentions of having him over? How do you know he’d even be down for it? And how would you even know if he’s gonna be a good fuck?” You shoot your questions to Wooyoung and San a million miles a minute.

“First off, Y/N. He has an idea of why he’s coming over. Second, if you weren’t drooling like a dog over that man, you would also notice the way he eye fucks you right back. So I know he’s more than down. I just didn’t want to give him any expectations, in case, ya know, you were gonna turn down some dick from the man of your dreams.”

Wooyoung always has to tease. God, you can’t stand him sometimes.

“And as far as your third question, I’m not going to go into too much detail on how I know. Just know that I do.”

After the three of you finish breakfast (which was amazing of course, living with Wooyoung was like having a personal chef) you head to your room and flop down on your comfy bed. You unlock your phone and open instagram to mindlessly scroll for a bit. Except the moment you open it, Kim Hongjoong is staring back at you.

You stare, open mouthed, at the insanely gorgeous photo he’s posted. His dark brown undercut styled perfectly. The wink, further drawing you in with his long, pretty eyelashes and the eyebrow piercing bringing attention to his well shaped brows. The simple diamond stud adorning his left nostril. The neck tattoos peeking from the collar of his button up. And at last, the part of the photo that had you thinking that maybe this night might not be such a bad idea after all. His pierced tongue poking through his perfect set of teeth and plump, shiny, also pierced lips.

You lock your phone and toss it across your bed. You scream into your pillow with frustration, thoughts of what Hongjoong could do with that pretty mouth flooding your brain. How good that sharp nose would feel against your clit as you ride his face, fucking into you with his (most likely) very experienced, jeweled tongue. The thoughts made the temperature in the room become increasingly uncomfortable.

“Fuck, I need to get a grip” you say to yourself as you push yourself up until you’re sitting on your knees in the middle of your bed. The bed that may soon be occupied with you and Hongjoong, playing out your current fantasies.

You rummage through your messy dresser drawers in search of something sexy and unexpected to put under the baggy sweats and sweatshirt you were planning on wearing tonight. After some digging around, you find your full body leather harness that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. This way, if things go right, Hongjoong will be pleasantly surprised. And if this doesn't go as planned, you don’t look like you were desperate for his touch.

At the particular moment you decide to toss the harness onto you bed, Wooyoung and San decide to burst into your room, unannounced.

“Ya, have yall ever heard of knocking? Scared the shit out of me! And what if I was standing here naked!?”

“Relax, Y/N. It’s nothing we haven’t seen before” Wooyoung says casually, ignoring your dramatics. “Besides, the only person I’m really interested in seeing naked is San. And maybe Hongjoong.”

San raises an eyebrow and side eyes Wooyoung. “You can’t be for real, Woo?”

“What!? I've heard some things and I wanna know if they’re true. That’s all.” Wooyoung shrugs, as if that’s something completely normal to say in front of your boyfriend.

“Wait, what kind of things?” you ask, curiosity lighting you on fire.

“Y/N, I already told you, you aren’t getting a word out of me. And from the looks of what you’ve got picked out, you’re planning on finding out for yourself.” He nods his head to your chosen fit for the night.

“Is that all you’re wearing tonight?” San seems a little surprised, as you’re usually not that forward. “Kinda just screams ‘I’m desperate, come fuck me now’” he chuckles.

“No, you fucking dummy! I’m wearing sweats and a sweatshirt over it!”

“Ahh, get him with the element of surprise. Ok, I see you, Y/N.” Wooyoung smirks as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“What the hell did you guys even come in here for in the first place?”

“Oh, we wanted to know if you wanted to go to the store with us to grab snacks and drinks for tonight. We’re leaving in 5.” San takes Wooyoung by the hand and they head back to the living room.

You throw on a simple graphic tee and ripped black jeans for your endeavor to the store. You head to meet San and Wooyoung in the living room. “Ok, let’s goooo!”

The entire ten minute ride to the store consisted of Wooyoung and San hounding you with questions about the evening that was about to unfold.

“So you’re really about to let us be your wingmen tonight, huh?”

“Wooyoung, I swear to God if you don’t shut up. I’m going to spend the entire night in my room.”

“Aw, come on Y/N. I know Hongjoong is really looking forward to tonight.” San joining in on Wooyoung’s teasing as your cheeks begin to turn a rosy pink.

“Ugh, let’s just go grab what we need and get back home. I’m in desperate need of a shower” you sigh as Wooyoung parks the car.

You guys grab a cart and begin filling it with an array of chips and candy. San tosses in a box of pepero.

You shoot San a questioning glance. “And what are those for, San?”

“Oh, you already know Y/N,” a mischievous smirk spreading across his face.

You give yourself a harsh face palm and slide your hand down your face. They really were trying incredibly hard to make tonight’s tensions as high a possible.

Heading into the aisles of alcohol, Wooyoung picks up the cheapest, probably most vile option he could find for vodka. “This should work!”

“Woo, that’s literally the worst option out of everything here!”

“Duh, Y/N, it’s supposed to be a punishment, not enjoyable.”

“Punishment?” A perplexed look crosses your face.

“Yeah, we’re playing a game with certain challenges. But if you decide not to follow through, your punishment is a double shot of this shit,” he says waving the bottle in his hand. “Among other rules we’ll explain when Hongjoong arrives.”

“Why do I not trust this?”

Defeated, the three of you head to go check out with the massive amount of snacks and the bottle of alcohol you’ve thrown into the cart.

Upon returning home, you help San and Wooyoung unpack everything and you rush to your room in order to get yourself prepared for tonight’s events. You definitely need an ‘everything’ shower.

You step into your private bathroom, and turn the shower on to a comfortable setting. You’re going to be there for a while. This is the first time you’ve gotten laid in at least a year. First impressions matter, and you wanted to make a damn good one on Hongjoong.

Stepping under the warm water, calming your nerves just a little, you lather yourself with your favorite vanilla and jasmine soap. You deep condition your hair (if his hands end up in it, you want him to enjoy the feel of your soft hair). You make sure everything is smoothly shaven. You hop out and lather yourself with your matching body lotion and wrap your fluffy towel around you to head back to your room.

Staring at the leather contraption on the bed, you realize you’ve never actually worn this particular item before.

“Hey, fuckers! I need help!” you shout through the apartment.

“San and Wooyoung at your service” both bowing as they enter your room and try to stop the giggles from escaping.

You hand them the puzzling pieces of leather and wonder why you even bother wearing anything at all at this point.

“I can’t figure this out,” you whine, a pout decorating your lips.

“Oh, I’ve got this!” Woo says ever so cockily. “Drop the towel, babe.”

Hesitant for a second, you remember that being roommates for so long, they’ve definitely seen their fair share of your body, so you toss your towel aside.

San and Wooyoung work quietly, bending, twisting, poking, and prodding you until you’re fully situated in the body harness, that does nothing to cover, and everything to accentuate.

Wooyoung turns you around to admire their work. San lets out an appreciative whistle. “If Hongjoong doesn’t fuck you stupid once he sees this, he’s insane.”

“Ok, ok, get out now!” You hurry them out of your bedroom, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Hongjoong is supposed to arrive in a half an hour. You’ve got to throw on your sweats and sweatshirt, and try to relax and calm yourself before the man of the hour shows up. You busy yourself with prepping the snacks for the night.

As soon as you’ve spread out the snacks, vodka, and shot glasses on the glass coffee table, you sit down, nerves finally calm, and the doorbell chimes loudly, startling you.

“Hey, Y/N you want to go answer that?” San says cheekily.

“Do I have a choice?” you banter back, rolling your eyes.

You shove yourself off the couch and head across the living room to make your way to the door. You take a deep breath before carefully opening it, finally coming face to face with Hongjoong. He flashes you a smile with those perfect teeth and you catch yourself looking at the lip ring shining right in the middle of his plump bottom lip. God, those lips look so kissable. He’s dressed in a black button up and dark denim Levi’s.

“Hey, Y/N!” his voice pulling you from your thoughts.

“Hey, Hongjoong!” You smile back as you step aside to let him in. He kicks off his heeled boots and sets them by the door.

He follows you into the living room, where Wooyoung and San are comfortably spread out on the larger couch, leaving the small love seat to you and Hongjoong. Nice play, boys.

“Hey, Joong!” the boys greet in unison.

“Hey! Thanks for inviting me over. I’m excited to have a night to relax. I’m usually so busy working on music that I just don’t ever have time to do stuff like this!”

“Of course! Sit back and relax, man.” Wooyoung gestures to the love seat that you’re currently standing behind.

He plops down and makes himself comfortable. All three of them have noticed you still have yet to move from your spot. Hongjoong tilts his head back to look at you, his exposed, tattooed neck looking really suckable right about now.

“You can come sit with me. I don’t bite. Unless, ya know, you’re into that sort of thing? I don’t judge,” he snickers, and again, for the nth time tonight, your cheeks heat up with blush.

You sit down next to him, hugging your knees to your chest, as that’s your most comfortable way to sit. “Don’t start your shit, Kim Hongjoong.”

“Ooo, someone’s feisty!” he teases, and you lightly smack his arm. Just from the slight impact, you can tell he’s got some impressive arms under his button up. San and Wooyoung are watching the whole thing unfold and can’t help but howl with laughter at the exchange.

As the laughter from the two dies down, Wooyoung suggests putting on a movie. “How about a scary movie, Y/N? Your favorite!”

You shoot Woo the most evil side eye you can manage. Your roommates know you despise scary movies.

Hongjoong notices the interaction and begins to taunt you. “What? Are you scared Y/N?”

“Pffftt, no? Why would I be scared? It’s just a movie.”

Hongjoong gives a knowing smile and you’re definitely going to make Wooyoung pay for this later.

San and Wooyoung get comfortable on the couch and the intro to the movie begins. Hongjoong decides to make himself comfortable as well, turning so his back is resting against the arm of the love seat, one foot on the floor, the other resting gently behind you.

“Come here, Y/N, relax a little.” Hongjoong puts his arms around your waist and pulls you to sit between his legs, your back resting against his well defined chest. He wrestles a blanket hanging from the back of the couch and places it over the two of you. He nuzzles into your neck and you can hear him sharply inhale.

“Damn, Y/N, you smell amazing,” he whispers into your ear, and the ghost of breath that tickles your ear gives you goosebumps and sends shivers down your spine.

You try to ignore your growing arousal at being so close to him. “Pay attention to the movie, Joong” you whisper back.

The moment you both focus your attention back to the screen is the very moment a scene makes you jump and you pull the blanket over your face, partly to hide your embarrassment, and partly from fear.

You hear Hongjoong chuckling lowly in your ear. “It’s just a movie, right Y/N? Not scared, my ass.”

You return his teasing by repositioning yourself onto your side and placing a harsh bite right to his bicep. His eyes widen just a bit, and you see the fire ignite in them behind his long lashes. He snakes his arm up your body and places his hand, decorated with tattoos and rings on your throat, not squeezing, but resting it there, and he feels you gulp.

His voice vibrating against your ear that is now resting against his chest, “Mmm, so you do enjoy biting. You better be careful, Kitten.” he warns.

Through the remainder of the movie his hand stays placed on your neck, rubbing against the unmarked skin with his thumb. You hadn’t paid attention to a damn thing that happened in that movie since he wrapped that pretty custom necklace around you.

The credits begin rolling and you receive a quizzical look from Wooyoung and San. “What are you guys doing over there?”

“Someone doesn’t know how to keep their teeth to themselves.” Hongjoong says with a cocky smirk.

“Oh, yeah. That doesn’t surprise me. She learned from the best, see?” Wooyoung giggles as he grabs San’s arm and sinks his teeth into his forearm.

“Yah, Woo! What the fuck was that for?”

“Since when do I ever have a reason for biting? It’s just fun!” Wooyoung simply says with a shrug

Hongjoong is amused by the quarrel between the two boyfriends.

“I have to agree with you, Woo. It’s definitely fun.” You hear the mischief in his voice before you even realize what’s happening. He tilts your head to the side and nips the bare skin of your neck. This elicits a moan from you and you quickly slap your hand over your mouth. “Mmm, so responsive, Kitten.”

Wooyoung leaves the comfort of San’s lap, stands up and claps his hands together, pulling you from the trance Hongjoong has placed you in. “Ok, who’s ready for drinks and drunk Jenga!?”

“What the fuck is drunk Jenga, Woo?” curiosity coming through in your voice.

“Ok, here. Let me explain. So me and San have taken the liberty of writing little challenges on each of the blocks. So when you pull your block, you either do what the block says, or take your punishment, in the form of two shots. If you knock the tower down, you must sit in the lap of another player for the rest of the game. The others get to decide who.”

“Alright, let’s get the real party started!” exclaims Hongjoong.

Wooyoung heads to grab the game while everyone else repositions themselves in their spots to have better access to the coffee table.

Wooyoung returns and begins setting up the blocks, while you try sneaking a peek at what’s written on them.

“Yah! Y/N, if you try cheating, I’m gonna give you your punishment now!”

“Ok, ok. I’ll behave!” Hongjoong snickers next to you.

“And what exactly is so funny, Joong?”

“You saying you’ll behave. That might be true. For the moment.” He leans to whisper into your ear “But I’m planning on changing that, Kitten.” The pet name made your head spin and your pussy throb.

With the game finally set up, it’s a battle of rock, paper, scissors to find out who is the first victim of the Jenga blocks. This of course happens to be you.

You kneel in front of the coffee table and steady your hands to pull out a block. San and Wooyoung know you are the worst at Jenga. Despite that, you expertly pull a block from near the top of the stack and internally face palm yourself.

“Feed someone a sip” you read aloud.

San and Wooyoung are whooping with excitement and they both immediately decide that this will be a challenge for you and Hongjoong.

“You ok with that, Joong?” asks San.

“Yeah, of course. I’m not a pussy.” he snickers.

You roll your eyes at his cockiness and pour a shot of the vile alcohol. Shot in hand, you straddle Hongjoong’s lap, taking him by surprise.

“Not so cocky now, huh, Joongi?” mischievous grin spreading across your face. Your free hand roughly grips his chin and tilts his head back, his eyes widening in shock as he bites his plump, pink lips.

“Open up for me Joong” you assert in a very seductive tone. He does as told, and you pour the shot into his waiting mouth. He swallows and lets out a noise confirming his distaste for the bitter spirit.

You press yourself against him and lower your lips to his ear. “Good boy” your breath ghosts against him.

Wooyoung is loving your controlling behavior towards Hongjoong and is smacking San’s leg, trying to control himself from embarrassing you and ruining your feisty streak. You slowly climb off Hongjoong’s lap and reclaim your spot next to him on the loveseat. Hongjoong is still speechless and reeling from the pet name. After a few moments, he murmurs out a soft “fuck, I’m in for a hell of a night” to himself.

“Didn’t expect Y/N to give you a run for your money did you, Joong?” Wooyoung giving his best witch cackle.

“I mean, she’s always so quiet and shy. But they do say those are the ones you should watch out for. I should have known better. It’s ok, two can play that game, right Kitten?” Hongjoong shoots you a sideways glance.

You pressing your thighs together to help control the heat that is radiating from your core doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He’s not the only one in for a long night.

Next is San’s turn.

“Slap an ass. Oh come on, why did we even put this? This is too easy! We’re all in agreement that this is a Woo and I challenge?”

“Absolutely” you and Hongjoong agree together.

“How do you want me, Sannie?” Wooyoung urges.

“Hmmm, let’s make it a little more interesting shall we? Pants down and across my lap, Youngie.”

Wooyoung’s cheeks flush red at the request, but follows San’s orders and pulls his pants down enough to give San full access to his firm, toned ass, and climbs across San’s lap, ass in the air.

“Awww, don’t be shy now. You know you enjoy the attention, baby.”

Wooyoung whines low in his throat at the comment and prepares himself. San gently rubs Wooyoung’s cheeks before pulling his arm back as far as possible and landing an extremely hard, loud slap to Wooyoung’s right ass cheek. He lets out a whiny moan at the impact and buries his face as best as he can to hide the fucked out look he probably has on his face right now.

“Don’t hide. Stand up, pretty, let them see.”

San helps him stand and turns him around, ass on display for you and Hongjoong.

“He’s not gonna be able to sit for like a week, San. Damn.” Hongjoong lets out a long whistle at the bright red, swollen handprint adorning Wooyoung’s ass.

“He’s usually used to this shit by now, but like damn, that’s an impressive one, for sure, San” you add.

San pulls Wooyoung’s boxers and pants back up and Wooyoung kneels at the coffee table to take his turn. Wooyoung pulls a block from near the bottom of the stack, the tower wavering a little, but he manages to pull it out without incident.

“Lick? Mmm, shirt off, Sannie.”

San quickly pulls his shirt off and tosses it somewhere onto the floor. He places his huge arms across the back of the couch and spreads his legs. Wooyoung drops to his knees in front of San and lightly runs his hands up his thighs to rest on his petite waist. Wooyoung licks his lips, and San looks down at them, adoring his singular dot that embellishes his bottom one. Wooyoung then takes his wet, slippery tongue and starts from San’s navel, languidly licking up the middle of his body. He runs his tongue right up the middle of his rock hard abs. He stands, tongue never leaving his boyfriend's body, and perches himself on San’s lap while continuing to run his hands up his body, rubbing his thumbs over San’s perked nipples, as his tongue finally reaches his neck.

San moans at the sensation and Wooyoung can feel his dick twitch beneath him.

“Mmm, you like that, Sannie?” Wooyoung hums in his ear.

San takes a hand and places it on Wooyoung’s neck, pushing him back gently. “Stop being a brat, Youngie.”

You catch movement from Hongjoong out of the corner of your eye, and you can tell he’s desperately trying to regain some confront from the bulge that’s forming in his jeans from the Woosan interaction. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t absolutely drenched from watching them either.

“Damn, I’m feeling a little lonely over here” teases Hongjoong, eyes dark.

“Well, it’s your turn next, Joong. See what fate lies for you in the Jenga blocks.” Wooyoung nods to the tower in the middle of the coffee table.

“Alright, here goes nothing!” Again, another amazing player at Jenga, Hongjoong plucks the block from the tower easily.

“Blowjob shot?” he reads with a raised eyebrow. “Ok, so who am I taking this off of?”

“I vote Woo!” you and San blurt out at the same time. Hongjoong chuckles in amusement and pours a shot bringing it over to Wooyoung to get started on their challenge.

“You aren’t gonna back out Joongi?” you say playfully.

“Kitten, I never back down from a dare.” Still half hard, he taps Wooyoung’s knee to get him to spread his legs enough for him to fit himself in between them and places the shot glass onto his lap. He crosses his hands behind his back and places his pierced lips around the top of the glass and tosses his head back, downing the shot effortlessly.

“Damn, that was fucking hot” you whisper breathlessly.

You are a mess right now. And if the smirk on Hongjoong’s face when he heads back to sink into his spot next to you is any indication, he knows.

Hongjoong’s inked hand grips your thigh tightly, too close to where you want them, but not close enough. “Looks like we’re back to you, Y/N.”

You study the tower, looking for a block to pull that’s not going to cause the tower to crumble. You find the perfect one and slip it out of its spot.

“Body shot! Ok, this one is actually kind of fun.”

San and Wooyoung give you a look and you already know once again that you’re paired with Hongjoong for this challenge.

Running his jeweled tongue over his perfect lips, he quips “Body shots are definitely fun Y/N. Let’s do it.”

You stand to grab the bottle of death from the table as Hongjoong lays himself across the love seat, hands behind his head that’s resting on the arm.

“Gotta unbutton the shirt, Y/N” he gestures cockily with his eyes to the neatly pressed button down.

You roll your eyes at him, climb onto his muscular thighs, and begin working the buttons, starting from the top. When you make it towards the bottom of his neatly tucked shirt, you pull it from his pants and slide it off of him.

The sight before you makes your jaw drop slightly. His intricately tattooed chest, and huge pecs lead you right to his perked nipples, each sporting a metal barbell. Your tongue tingles and mouth waters with the need to taste and tease them. Hongjoong moves his legs a bit to snap you back to reality.

“Like what you see, huh Y/N?” devilish smirk playing across his lips. “You’ve still got a challenge to complete.”

You can feel your body heating up as you slide further down to position yourself comfortably enough to pour the shot into his navel and take it. As you go to pour it, two things stop you in your tracks. The first, the dangly chrome silver star bringing attention to where your mouth is soon to be. The second, the sailor font showing just over the waistband of his dark denim jeans. The strength of your curiosity outweighs any rational thought, as you pull his waistband down just enough to see the full script.

“Captain?” you quirk up an eyebrow.

“It was a dare,” he shrugs. “And I told you I will never back down from a dare, Kitten. But, focus now. You’re keeping everyone waiting.”

Without further hesitation, you pour the bitter liquid into his navel and very slowly and deliberately lap it up. Hongjoong removes his hands from behind his head, placing one on the back of yours as you continue to lick and suck, knowing damn well the shot is long gone. Hongjoong is fully hard as he grips your hair, gently lifting you off of his abdomen and looking through his long lashes, down at you with hunger filled eyes.

“I think it’s gone now, Y/N” he manages to breathe out.

“Damn Y/N, you trying to suck his soul out through his belly button?” Wooyoung pesters.

“Yeah, you did a number on him just now” says San, having to add in his two cents, of course.

“I was just doing the challenge, like you guys said” you brush off their teasing as you clamber off Hongjoong so he can move his legs to give you back your spot on the love seat.

“Hell of a way to do that, Y/N” Hongjoong spits out.

The rotation has made its way back to San who pulls a ‘dicks drink’ block. All three men pour their shots and down them, less than enthusiastic.

“God, that really does taste like shit” Wooyoung chokes out.

“Told you, asshole!” you say, giggling at their suffering.

Next up is Wooyoung, carefully choosing his block as they are becoming fewer, and the possibility of the tower crashing down becomes greater. A playful smile fills his face as he shows the group the block reading ‘Pepero game’. Wooyoung leans to whisper into San’s ear, and he definitely enjoyed what he heard.

“Ok, since me and San have already decided, and majority rules in this game, Y/N, come here. You’re doing this one with me.” Your eyes widen but you honestly aren’t the least bit surprised. Wooyoung has always loved stirring the pot.

You raise yourself from the loveseat and head over to Wooyoung, Pepero already waiting in his mouth. San scoots over a bit, giving Wooyoung room to scoot over, so you can sit comfortably next to him. As you sit, your eyes glance over at Hongjoong for a brief moment, noticing his tense posture and the clench of his jaw.

Feeding off the fact that you know Hongjoong is becoming increasingly jealous, you take Wooyoung’s face in your hands, and the Pepero into your mouth. You take small, slow bites, the stick disappearing between your lips until they’re centimeters from Wooyoung’s. You close the almost nonexistent gap between the two of you, and press your lips to his. The kiss starts off leisurely, but grows needy rather quickly. You and Wooyoung sharing moans into each others mouths. You partly blame the alcohol. And the rest of the blame goes to Hongjoong, for working you up the entire night.

San sees how hot things are getting between the two of you, and Hongjoong’s extremely pissed off expression that he’s trying unsuccessfully to hide, and decides to interject.

“Alright, challenge over you two!”

San is pulling Wooyoung back and your lips part with a wet pop. You both are panting, trying to catch your breath. In spite of Hongjoong’s jealousy, he is insanely hard, and is fighting every voice in his mind to take you right now in front of San and Wooyoung, and let them know who you really belong to.

You happily make your way back over to Hongjoong, knowing you have very successfully riled him up.

“How ya feeling, Joongi?”

He turns himself on the loveseat, grips your neck in warning, cold rings giving you chills, pulls your ear to his mouth and growls.

“Oh, you thought that shit was cute, huh Y/N?”

Gulping at the suddenness of his aggressive behavior, but being the brat that you are, you decide to see how far you can push his buttons.

“Judging from the way your dick is straining against your jeans, I’d say you thought so too, Joong.”

“I’d watch your mouth if I was you, Kitten.”

“Hmm, does it do tricks?” you say with a giggle as you go cross eyed attempting to look at your own mouth. Hongjoong lets out an exasperated growl and pushes you away by the throat.

He turns his attention back to the tower on the table and seals his fate for his turn.

“Kiss. Hmmm, since I’m the guest tonight, I’m vetoing the majority rules.”

There’s a fire in his eyes as he beckons San over. “San, come here.”

San opens and closes his mouth a few times, thinking of protesting, but heads over to you and Hongjoong on the loveseat.

Hongjoong stands just before San reaches him, and grabs San by the shirt and aggressively throws him onto the seat next to you. He knows you’re just as riled up as he is, and he’s gonna make you watch. Payback is a bitch. Hongjoong perches himself onto San’s lap and you and Wooyoung exchange shocked glances.

Hongjoong wraps his arms around San’s neck and begins lapping and leaving hot, wet kisses from his neck, to his ear, along his sharp, defined jawline, until he makes it to San’s lips. San is losing any ounce of control as he grabs Hongjoong’s tiny waist, as Hongjoong begins grinding against him, seeking the slightest bit of friction to help his raging hard on. San and Hongjoong are a mess of teeth, tongue, saliva, and throaty moans, and you’re convinced if Hongjoong was pantless, they would absolutely be fucking each other right here in front of you and Wooyoung.

Nothing can hide just how aroused you are at this point, a wet patch soaking through your sweatpants. Wooyoung doesn’t seem to be faring any better. You know how much he enjoys watching, so this is torture for him. Hongjoong finally parts from San, resting their foreheads together with a breathy ‘fuck’, and Wooyoung lets out a low whine.

“Haha, that’s karma for you two” San grins, looking at you and Wooyoung.

“That’s so unfair” you squeak out.

Hongjoong slips off of where he was perched on San’s lap, allowing him to return to his very horny boyfriend on the opposite couch. Hongjoong notices the wet spot you’re currently dealing with and shows a toothy smile.

“Judging from that nice wet spot, I bet you thought that shit was cute, huh?” throwing your words back at you.

“Fuck you, Joong.”

“Oh, you will.”

You shoot him daggers as you go to pull yet another block from the dwindling tower.

“Strip and sit on someone’s lap for a turn. Really guys?” you whimper.

“Yes, really. And me and Youngie have already decided whose lap that’s gonna be. Come here, pretty.” San motions you over. “Any objections, Joong?”

Hongjoong is balling up his fists so hard that his white knuckles are showing through his meticulously tattoos hands.

“Nope, none at all” venom seeping through his clenched teeth.

San and Wooyoung are fully prepared for what you’re wearing underneath your baggy clothes. Hongjoong, on the other hand, has no idea, and his dick is already leaking profusely. He throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to wait out your turn.

“Come on babe, lose the clothes” Wooyoung provokes.

You swiftly remove your sweatshirt and sweatpants and toss them aside. In nothing but your skimpy leather harness, that leaves the best parts of you completely exposed, you settle yourself onto San’s waiting lap. Your soaked pussy is already leaving a mess on San’s pants, and feeling his hard dick underneath you is doing nothing to help matters.

“Joong-ah” San coos at Hongjoong who still hasn’t taken a glance in your direction. “Come on. Look at how pretty Y/N is” San purrs right next to your ear, making you clench around nothing.

Hongjoong lifts his head from its resting place, eyes still tightly shut as he rubs his face with his hands in frustration. He drops his hands from his face as he hesitantly begins to open his eyes, letting out a long, deep breath in the process. The second his eyes land on you, every bit of sanity he was holding on to has dissipated. His dark eyes are ablaze, and he’s licking his lips furiously with his pierced tongue. His decorated hands head for his neatly styled locks and he begins pulling at them in want. No. NEED. He needs to taste you, to feel you. IMMEDIATELY.

“Fuck, Y/N. Are you trying to kill me?” Hongjoong says with the neediest whine you think you’ve ever heard come from a man.

Now that Hongjoong is focused on you, in an attempt to add fuel to both yours and Hongjoong’s fire, San places feather light touches across your body. Ghosting his fingers up and down your arms, your thighs, your sides, your neck. You shiver, despite the heat coursing through you.

“Shit, my lap is wet” San moans out, making eye contact with Hongjoong over your shoulder.

Hongjoong’s forearms are resting across his thighs, hands folded together, and if looks could kill, San would be a dead man. Envy is pouring off of Hongjoong in waves, and something about that is insanely fucking attractive to you. Wooyoung is whining and whimpering next to you and San, desperate for a tinge of attention.

San cups his boyfriend’s dick, straining desperately against his tight jeans. “Be a good boy, and be patient.”

“Ok, my turn” San says, completely unphased by the death glare given by Hongjoong.

He contemplates for a minute on which block to pull. He pulls his choice and the tower threatens to fall, but his quickness prevents the catastrophe.

“Take a shot, simple enough. Y/N, will you pour me one?” You slide off of San’s lap, onto your knees in front of the table to pour the shot, Hongjoong’s eyes following your every move.

San unconsciously clears his throat, yanking Hongjoong from his thoughts of you on your knees for him. Hongjoong glances at the man across from him, only to see the ever present dark patch now covering San’s lap from your leaking pussy.

You place yourself back into San’s lap, handing him the shot that he downs in one quick swallow, burning be damned. Hongjoong is running the barbell in his tongue across his teeth, giving himself anything to focus on but the sting of jealousy bubbling under his skin.

“It’s your turn, pretty,” San directs at Wooyoung. Wooyoung takes his pick, the tower is almost useless at this point, and you know at your turn, this thing is definitely crumbling.

Wooyoung pulls ‘kiss’ and needily engulfs San’s lips, the latter swallowing Wooyoung’s moans and gasps. They disconnect with a wet smack, saliva still connecting them until San licks his lips. “My needy boy,” San’s smooth voice says to Wooyoung.

Hongjoong is up next, beyond ready to be completely finished with this game of pure torture and takes the last logical option to keep the tower at bay. He doesn’t even bother reading the block aloud, fearful his voice will betray the possessiveness he’s trying to hide at watching you on San’s lap, reveling in his touches. He simply tosses the block on the table and strips down to his boxers.

“Ah, lose pants,” a devilish smirk taking over San’s features.

Your mouth is watering. You can see the imprint of Hongjoong’s huge, thick cock begging to be freed. You swallow hard and lick your lips, trying your best not to drool at the sight.

It is again your turn and you have no possible way of not knocking down the tower. You attempt anyways, choosing one from the middle, and pull the block out halfway before all remaining pieces tumble down onto the table.

“HA! You have to sit in someone’s lap for the rest of the game,” Wooyoung shrieks.

“I’m already in San’s lap though?” Hongjoong shoots you a look that you can immediately decipher.

“No, no babe. You have to sit in someone else’s. San, send her over to Joong.”

San pats your strap covered hip, silently ordering you to stand. You stand, but hesitate to head over to Hongjoong, the glint in his eyes enough to send your full body into a mess of goosebumps. Wooyoung begins resetting the tower as you take slow, calculated steps towards a very angry, very horny Hongjoong. As you reach him and turn to sit in his lap, he grips your hips with such strength, you know it will leave bruises later, and you yelp as he pulls you down onto him.

Wooyoung almost has the Jenga game ready to play again, but you decide now is a good time to test just how far Hongjoong’s sanity has gone by wiggling your ass just slightly against his throbbing dick. He bites down onto the flesh of your shoulder hard, leaving a deep indent of his perfect teeth and you let out something between a sigh and a moan at the mixture of pain and pleasure.

“You know what, fuck this!” Hongjoong finally lets his resolve break, and Wooyung and San jump at his sudden outburst. “I’m done with this fucking game.”

He stands the both of you up and roughly flings you over his shoulder and makes his way to your room.

“Joong, what are you doing?” You protest, hands flailing, trying to find some form of stability.

“What I should have done when I first got here, instead of playing that damn game. You think it’s fun to tease, Kitten? Just you wait.”

“Haha, oh shit. She’s in trouble,” Wooyoung says to San, failing miserably to hold in his laughter.

You reach your room and Hongjoong swiftly places you down and slams the door and clicks the lock in place. He turns to you, features insanely feral, grabs you around your throat, just enough to catch you off guard and pins you against the door. He places hot, messy kisses up your neck to you ear.

“I need to know that you fully consent to what is about to take place, Y/N.” You hum your approval in response. He nips the lobe of your ear, “I need words, Kitten.”

“Yes, Joong. Please,” you manage between pants.

“Mm, no baby, tonight it’s ‘Captain’” he growls as he forcefully slides his leg in between yours.

You grind hard against his thigh as he’s kissing you like his life is dependent on it, hand still wrapped neatly around your throat. The mix of his lip and tongue piercing as he’s tongue fucking your mouth makes your pussy throb.

“Look at you, already a fucked out mess and you haven’t even gotten my cock yet” his whispers against your lips.

“Jump” he demands, and you do as told, and he grips you tight as you wrap legs around his tiny, slutty waist.

He carries you to your bed and with no regard for safety, tosses you onto it. He pulls you to the edge of it, his arms wrapped around your thighs, as you squeak at the sudden movement.

“You enjoy teasing, huh, Y/N?” he grits out as he rolls his rock hard cock against you, drenching his thin boxers in your juices.

He kneels before you as his hot breath tickles your core. “Two can play that game, Kitten.”

“Hongj-!” A sharp slap, followed by a bite to your inner thigh springs a low grunt from you and stops his name from escaping your lips.

“How quickly you forget, gorgeous. I told you, it’s Captain.”

You prop yourself onto your forearms and with one arm, your hand grips his dark locks with an unnecessary amount of force, trying to guide his face to your dripping pussy.

“Captain, please” you whine needily. He removes your hand from his hair.

“Where has that cocky little attitude gone, Y/N, hmmm?” he mocks you, looking at you from between your legs, eyes hazy behind his long, pretty eyelashes. “Keep your hands to yourself unless I tell you otherwise. What’s your safe word, Kitten?”

“Utopia” you manage through bated breath.

Once he gets that final piece of information, he begins nipping the flesh of your thigh from your knee, almost to your throbbing heat, very slowly. You lay yourself back down as you fist the sheets in an effort not to place your hands on that beautiful man, who is determined to take you apart piece by piece. You feel his ministrations stop for a few moments, and you think you have a moment to catch your breath. Before you can take a full breath of air, his hot, wet tongue delves past the strap barely covering your dripping cunt. He groans as the taste of you explodes on his tongue.

He rests his head against your thigh for a moment and sucks in a few deep breaths. “Fuck Kitten, you taste so good. Been dreaming about this for months. It's seriously been fucking with my head, you have no idea what you do to me.”. You stare down your body at him, trembling at the dark look he returns as he leans in again and drags the hard ball of his tongue piercing between your slick swollen folds.

Your head falls back and you arch as the jewel teases over your clit. He hums and groans as he explores you, his hands holding your thighs open in a bruising grip. “Fuck Y/N the things I want to do to you,” he groaned against you, the vibrations of his raspy voice against your core driving you wild.

“C-Captain, please!” you whine.

“Mm, what is it Kitten?” he asked, nipping at your thigh with sharp teeth. “Am I making you feel good, baby?”

“Yes…but please let me touch you,” you beg.

He reluctantly leaves his spot from the floor and towers over you as you scoot back to give him room between your legs on the bed. You instinctively wrap your legs around him as he grabs your hands and runs them over his body. He presses his body further into you and nips against the soft flesh of your neck.

“Hmmm, you think you deserve to touch?”

“Please, I’ll be good” you whimper in desperation.

“Then go on baby, make your Captain feel good.”

That was all the permission you needed before you wrapped your mouth around one of his pierced nipples, the metallic taste causing you to hum against him. You lick and suck his sensitive bud, also mixing in a graze of your teeth every so often. You make sure to give his other perky nipple attention as well, lightly rubbing your thumb across it. After a while, you switch sides, making sure each side receives equal care. Hongjoong lets out little pants at the feeling. He swears he could cum just from this alone.

Patience wearing thin, he grips your hair and tugs you off of his nipple with a wet pop, a string of spit still connecting you. He takes in your fucked out expression and before you can complain at the loss of something in your mouth, he returns the same favor to you. He bites and licks and sucks and pinches until you are a blubbering mess under him, back arching at an impossible angle.

“Awww, look at you crying, Y/N. We’re just barely getting started” he mocks as he gently cups your face, wiping the tears that have managed to escape.

“Captain, please! I- I need…” you say between gulps of air.

“You need what, Kitten? I thought I told you to use your words?” he grins at you with a raised eyebrow.

He’s enjoying just how much you can’t form a coherent sentence. You place your arm over your eyes to try and hide just how much he’s affected you. Although it’s absolutely pointless, because he knows. And he’s ready to break you.

While you’ve had your eyes covered, trying to regain control of your breathing, and give Hongjoong a proper response, he is now fully naked in all his glory, standing at the foot of the bed.

“I need you” you whine helplessly.

“Oh, you can have me, baby” lust dripping from his voice as he leans over you to take your arm away from your face. He kisses you, aggressive and hungry, and when he goes to pull back, you chase after his lips.

Now that you’re fully sitting up, and actually see Hongjoong, the sight you came face to face with had you salivating and ready to devour him whole. His hard cock and flushed red tip leaking precum, and just as pierced as the rest of his body. 8 delicately placed and fitted barbells, creating his Jacob’s ladder, and a Prince Albert decorating his tip. Your tongue tingles with a need to have him in your mouth. You lick your lips a let out a hushed ‘fuck’.

“Someone likes what they see, do they?” he says, a cocky smirk playing across his face.

“God. Fuck! Captain.. I need it.” You’re so desperate to have your mouth, your hands, your pussy, around his huge, thick, pretty length. You slide off the bed and you immediately drop to your knees on the plush carpet in front of him.

“Such a good girl, so eager.” He takes your chin between his thumb and index finger, guiding you to look at him. “As hungry as you are for my cock, you need to be careful, Kitten. Do you understand?” You nod your head and he grips your chin a little tighter.

“Yes! Yes, Captain!” you blurt out before he can render you the reminder.

“Then go ahead and satisfy your appetite, baby.”

He lets go of your chin and your hand makes quick work of spreading his precum, slicking up his dick. He throws his head back in pleasure, finally getting a bit of friction. You place feather light kisses up each side of his length, and a few well calculated ones against his hips. His cock twitches, leaking out another drop, begging to be swallowed, and you smile into his skin. He feels your smile and he entangles his fingers in your hair and pulls you back from his hips. He tugs your hair hard enough that you are forced to make eye contact with the absolute demon right now that is Kim Hongjoong.

“I’m getting tired of you being a little cock tease, Kitten. Suck me like you’re starved, or I finish myself off on my own in front of you, and walk out, leaving your pussy dripping and empty. Or maybe I could go ask San and Woo for some help. I know they would be more than happy to.”

As much as the brat in you wanted to test that, the look in his eyes told you he was being serious, and your hole was begging for attention.

You run your hot, wet tongue on the underside of his shaft, paying special attention to each ‘rung’ of his ladder, up to his flushed red pierced tip and lap up the pearl of precum that has settled there. You finally take him into your mouth with a renewed fervor and the moan he lets out is purely pornographic.

“That’s a good girl” he pants, grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail. The praise makes you dizzy and as much as you want to deep throat his cock, he never lets you take him in too far in fear that he could cause some damage.

You make up for that by making it extremely messy for him, allowing every drop of spit you can manage to coat him. The drool is dribbling from the sides of your mouth, and dripping off his dick onto the carpet underneath him. You can feel him throbbing in your mouth, and by the grunts and small moans you can tell he’s close.

Before he lets himself give into ecstasy, he gently and reluctantly forces himself from your skilled mouth and tongue. He takes one look at you and has to grab the base of his cock to stop himself from tipping over the edge. You’re looking up at him with big doe eyes, mouth still slightly open, and your chin and chest soaked from the show you put on for him.

“You just sucked my fucking soul out through my dick. Fuck” he lets out in disbelief while he attempts to even out his breathing.

You stand on shaky legs, and wrap your arms around him to reach behind and grab his tight, round ass and pull him flush against you. You place little bites into the sensitive flesh of his neck, licking after each one.

His hums of pleasure spur you on, until you can’t even take the torture anymore and you whisper against the shell of his ear.

“Please fuck me, Captain. It’s so wet for you.”

You bring one of his hands right to your sopping pussy and begin fucking yourself against it, hoping he’ll give you what you want. He groans, long and low, at the slick now covering his hand, and without warning shoves two fingers inside of your needy hole. You let out a silent scream at the euphoria of something filling you after so long.

“You want my cock? Beg for it, Kitten.”

He continues to fuck into you with his delicate but precise fingers, the wet sloshing of your pussy and your elevating moans filling the room. He sucks deep purple marks into the skin of your neck and chest. The bratty side is winning for the moment, you refusing to beg for him. His fingers find your sweet spot and curve into it, causing you to almost crumble to the floor.

“Come on, beg for it, baby. I can tell you’re close, you’re about to take my damn fingers off with how hard you’re clenching them. So bratty, that you won’t even beg to get your greedy hole stuffed with my cock, hmm? You don’t need my fingers then, either.”

He promptly removes the fingers that were inside, abusing the spongy spot inside of you, and you do indeed crumble to the floor this time.

He looks down at you, the start of tears forming in your eyes from the sudden denial of release, and licks his fingers, being sure to drag his pierced tongue in between them.

“P-please, Captain. Please!” you stutter out, worried that if you don’t, he might really not let you cum tonight.

“Please, what?” he asks sharply, eyebrow raised, still cleaning his fingers from your arousal.

“Please fill me with your cock and fuck me dumb. Make me cum on it. Please, please, please!”

“Bed. Now. Face down, ass up. And I hope you know, I’m taking no pity on you. The amount of teasing I’ve endured from you tonight doesn’t deserve it. Playing with San and Woo in front of my face? Dressing like a little slut? Do you know how insane that makes me? I’m gonna make sure I’m the only thing you think of. Only me.”

His possessiveness only mildly scares you, but you’re too far gone to think about anything else but him fucking your brains out.

“Only you, Captain. Only need you.”

You feel the bed dip behind you, and hear the loud slap before your brain registers the hot sting on your ass. You groan as he places another on the opposite cheek to match, your heated skin tingling as the pain morphs to pleasure. He continues his assault on your ass, voice a deep growl.

“You wanted to piss me off, didn’t you? You wanted me to be rough, hmm?”

All you can do is sigh and whimper in agreement.

He kneads your burning cheeks before running his hands up to your waist and grabs your hips with a bruising grip. He ruts his dick against you, coating it in your wetness, but being careful not to give you what you truly desire.

“Don’t tease, Captain.”

“Don’t tease? You mean don’t do to you what you’ve been doing to me all fucking night?”

He removes his hands from your hips, and one snakes up your body to pinch a sensitive nipple, and the other goes straight for your clit, rubbing purposeful patterns into the bundle of nerves. You jolt at the rush of pleasure and he hums in approval.

“You really are so sensitive, Kitten.”

He dips two fingers inside of your pulsing pussy, and you immediately tighten around them. The heel of his palm is still giving your clit just enough friction. The fire in your gut is increasing at an alarming rate and he can feel your spasms around his fingers, and your legs trembling just slightly, and he knows you’re so close.

“C-Captain. Fuck, I’m so close. Please.. don’t stop!” you plead.

“Oh, baby, I know. Like I can’t feel you throbbing around my fingers, Kitten.” his condescending tone almost pushing you over the edge immediately. Except right before the knot in your stomach snaps, he stops.

“Fuck!” You let out a strangled sob at the second denial of pleasure.

He chuckles as your frustration grows, knowing he is fully enjoying what he’s doing to you.

“Don’t act like you don’t want my pussy just as much as I want your cock” you choke out into the pillow below you.

“Mouthy are we?” He lands another harsh slap on your ass. A hand flies into your hair and tugs, maneuvering your head to the side, so he can get a better look at your flustered face.

“Oh trust me, I do. But my will is much stronger than yours, clearly. I can do this all night.”

He definitely doesn’t want to, but he can. He’s so ready to be buried deep inside you, but he doesn’t want to give you the satisfaction quite yet.

He leans over you to place hot, needy kisses over your back and shoulders, and his hands are back to play with your hard buds, rolling them between his fingers.

“Captain, fuck. P-please just fuck me already. I’m -I’m losing my fucking mind.” Your final plea before you really do lose it.

“Aww, how can I say no when you asked so nicely?”

He straightens himself up and pulls your sore ass cheeks apart, watching your wetness drip out of you as you flutter around nothing in anticipation. “Shit, you’re so wet for me. Gonna drown Captain’s dick, hmm baby?”

“Y-yes. God, yes.” you manage, barely above a whisper.

He teases his pierced tip at your entrance for just a moment, and groans at the slickness. Before you can voice your displeasure at the lack of dick filling you, he very slowly pushes himself into you. So slowly that you can feel every inch, every thick vein, and every single piercing finally engulfed in your tight heat. So slowly, so he can appreciate watching himself disappear and you stretching around his cock.

When he bottoms out, you both let out a lewd moan along with a breath neither of you knew you were holding. His long, thick cock is filling you perfectly and you’re fisting the sheets, trying to get used to the stretch. He’s still, brows furrowed in pleasure, needing to give himself a moment before he moves, or he will cum. Very quickly, and very hard.

“Damn, your pussy fits my cock so nicely. So beautiful and tight.”

You reflexively squeeze him at the words, and he throws his head back with a guttural moan. You’ve had enough of him being still, enough of his teasing, enough of not being fucked into the mattress, so you begin to fuck youself back onto him.

“Just so fucking impatient, aren’t you, Kitten?” He grunts through clenched teeth.

In a matter of seconds, he’s thrusting to meet your movements, pounding into you hard. His pierced dick is dragging against your walls in just the right way, a feeling you’ve never felt, but it’s all you’ll ever think about now.

The sloshing sound of your pussy, the slapping of wet skin against skin, and moans from him, and whimpers from you fill the room. The Prince Albert is hitting your sweet spot with every deliberate thrust of his hips. The Jacob’s ladder adding an extra layer of pressure to everything. You are whimpering and whining and drooling into the pillow below you. Hongjoong is panting and groaning, admiring how your juices coat his dick with a beautiful shine.

“Nng, Captain, it’s so good! God, fuck me harder.”

“Harder? You want me to just ruin this pussy for anyone else, don’t you?”

“Please, please, please!”

“Can’t say no with you begging me so pretty, baby.”

His thrusts do indeed get harder, every drag of his dick allowing that jewelry to make magic and hitting right where you need it, and kissing your cervix in the process too. The heat in your belly is spreading like wildfire, and you want it to be extinguished in the form of finally being able to cum.

Hongjoong can tell you’re teetering right on the edge again. And again, he stops right before you can cum.

“Hold on, just a moment, Kitten. There’s something I have to do.”

“Kim Hongjoong, I swear to fucking god!” Tears are streaming down your face at this point from now being pulled from your orgasm for the third time tonight. You find the strength to push yourself up onto your forearms, catching your breath from dropping from your denied high so quickly.

“Who is Hongjoong, baby?” he lightly giggles as he reaches for his phone on the nightstand, his hard dick still nestled inside of you. He places a FaceTime call, and leans over you to set his phone on the shelf in the headboard.

The call picks up, and it’s San on the other end. Your mouth drops in shock.

“I just wanted you to see me ruin her for the shit she’s pulled tonight.” Hongjoong says simply.

“Looks like we both had the same idea in dealing with our brats tonight.”

You watch San moving around, clearly trying to find somewhere to set his phone, and when he leans back from in front of his camera, there’s Wooyoung. In the same state you are. You’re both matching positions, fucked out faces, and tear ridden cheeks.

There’s a silent exchange between San and Hongjoong, but by watching San on Hongjoong’s phone you can definitely tell they’re communicating something.

“Look at you two, so pretty for us.” San coos.

In perfect sync, both San and Hongjoong reach under you and Wooyoung, placing their hands on your throats and pushing you up to sit on your knees, backs flush to their chests.

“We’re all going to watch you two fall apart on our cocks. How’s that sound?” the mischief thick in Hongjoong’s voice.

You and Wooyoung both let a small whimper escape as you make eye contact with each other, knowing you’re absolutely fucked. Hongjoong fits even more snug inside you from this angle and it has you gasping for breath, and dropping your head.

“Youngie, you’re gonna watch Y/N, and Y/N you’re gonna watch Youngie. Understood?” San says with authority that makes both you and Wooyoung shiver.

Wooyoung immediately answers with a soft ‘yes’. You, however, are silent for a beat too long for Hongjoong’s liking, and he clutches your face, lifting you head to look at San and Wooyoung through the lit up screen.

“San asked you a question, Y/N. I believe he expects an answer” he snarls in your ear.

“Y-yes, San.” you breathe out.

“If only she was half as behaved as Youngie, she could have cum already. Three times.”

You knit your eyebrows together in irritation, remembering how many times you've been denied your release, and at the fact that Hongjoong’s dick is sitting heavily inside of you, but he’s not moved an inch since he and San have co-conspired against you and Wooyoung.

San laughs loudly at Hongjoong’s statement.

“You think my little Woo here is behaved? You think he’s got my cock in his tight ass, and his dick pretty and leaking, and tears running down his face because he’s been a good boy? You forget, he was being just as much of a tease as Y/N was tonight, Joong.”

“Shit. Woo looks pretty like that” you mumble. Hongjoong definitely still manages to hear you.

“I agree, Kitten. And so do you. Isn’t that right, Woo?”

“So fucking pretty” Woo huffs.

“Think it’s time we teach them a lesson, San?”

You see the devilish grin appear on San’s face and you know Hongjoong has one to match.

Hongjoong thrusts into you incredibly hard, and you choke on a sob as the wind is knocked from your lungs. If it hadn’t been for his pretty tattooed hand around your throat, you would have fallen forward, face first into the bed.

He continues his relentless abuse on your pussy, your slick dripping down your thighs and making a puddle on the sheets below. His pierced tip hitting your sweet spot, and the others raking your walls with each well placed snap of his hips. The noises he’s eliciting from you have become very loud and very lewd. He lets go of your neck and with the next thrust that gives him an opportunity to shove his fingers into your parted mouth, he does just that.

“Suck ‘em, baby. Make ‘em nice and wet for me.”

You give his fingers the same attention you gave his dick earlier, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth, cascading down your chin and chest. His unoccupied hand goes to tease a nipple, collecting some of your saliva along the way to make it wet. Your eyes flutter shut for a brief moment at the pleasure lighting every nerve in your body on fire.

“S-Sannie, please. I-I can’t. Too much, need to cum!” Woo’s high pitched pleas snap your eyes back open. You were supposed to be watching him, and hoped that Hongjoong hadn’t noticed your temporary disobedience.

“You’ll come when I say you can, pretty.” San’s voice is gruff as he ruts into Wooyoung, almost animalistic.

Wooyoung’s precum has left a wet patch on the bed in front of him. San reaches around and grabs Wooyoung’s wet, red, and angry cock, and begins stroking him at a tortuous pace. He places soft kisses along his shoulders and neck. Wooyoung is sniveling as San takes his free hand and wipes the tears streaming down his face.

“Come on, you can take it, baby. Show them what a good boy you are.”

San’s praise and Wooyoung’s sobs made you tighten even more around Hongjoong, releasing sobbing moans of your own against his fingers.

“Such a good girl for me, Y/N. Taking everything I give you. So wet and so tight, just for me, hmm baby?”

He slides his fingers from your mouth, and runs his hand down your stomach, pressing on the bulge there formed by his cock that you’d only just noticed. You can’t even string together enough words right now to form a sentence if you wanted to. Hongjoong hmphs at your inability to answer.

“This is what you wanted right? To be fucked dumb on my cock?” His voice is tight, and from his even faster pace, you can tell he’s close. All you can do is frantically nod at his words.

San looks just as close to cumming as Hongjoong feels. Hongjoong’s hand leaves your stomach and brings it straight to your clit with just the right amount of pressure and pace to have your eyes rolling back and your mind going blank.

“Captain, fuck. I-I can’t. Please. Please let me cum!”

San is vigorously stroking Wooyoung and you can see him struggling against San from his overstimulation. You and Wooyoung are both seconds from cumming and if they don’t let you this time, you’re sure you’re going to pass out. You and Wooyoung flick your eyes back to each other, as San and Hongjoong place a hand on each of your throats, putting just enough pressure to make your heads spin, but not enough that you can’t breathe. They speed up even faster against your clit, and Wooyoung’s dick. Both of your breathing is uneven, chests heaving, and nothing can control the sobs and moans that escape the both of you.

“Cum for me, Youngie.”

“Cum for me, Y/N.”

You and Wooyoung look right into each other's eyes as you convulse and cum around Hongjoong and San’s cocks. You string along a chant of ‘Captain’ and a few choice words as stars dance around your vision as it goes white. Your pulse is pounding in your ears, and the already arousal stained sheets double in their pool of wetness as you squirt. Wooyoung’s garbled moan of San’s name joins yours of the Captain’s as thick, white, seemingly never ending ropes of cum spurt from Wooyoung’s cock.

The sight of you two falling apart for them, had them following seconds behind you. You were a rag doll as this point, as Hongjoong continued to fuck into you, chasing his own pleasure. After a few more quick, sharp thrusts, he cums with a long, whiny moan as he sinks his teeth into your bare shoulder.

San fills Wooyoung’s ass as he cums with a resounding growl, burying his face into Wooyoung’s neck. After a few moments, he pulls out and gently lowers an exhausted Wooyoung into a clean spot on the bed.

Hongjoong does the same with you, and your eyes close as soon as your head hits the pillow. You can hear San and Hongjoong whispering to each other, barely able to make sense of their words. Until you hear “We’ll have to do this again, minus the phones.”

San hums in agreement. “I think that’s an amazing idea, Joong.”

“We’d better go take care of our good little babies. We’ll talk in more detail later, San.” They say their goodbyes and hang up.

Hongjoong grabs the water bottle and fruit snacks from the nightstand next to you.

“Sit up for me baby, you need this.”

He sits in front of you and helps you sit up and unscrews the cap off the water bottle and brings it to your lips. You gulp it down like you’ve been stuck in the desert with no water for 3 days.

“Good girl, eat these too.” he says as he feeds you your favorite fruit snacks. You hadn’t even seen him prepare all of this beforehand, and you smile contentedly as his care.

As your brain clears, you take his hands and interlace your fingers with his.

“That was amazing.”

He cups your face and flashes his toothy grin at you. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I wasn’t too rough? You’re ok?”

“Joongi, you were perfect. I’m ok, I promise. We put a safe word in place for a reason.”

“Indeed we did.” he laughs lightly. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go run us a bath, we’re a mess.”

His naked form heads to the en suite bathroom and fills the tub with water just hot enough to relax the two of you, but not enough to be uncomfortable. He pours a splash of lavender oils and bubbles into it and swirls them around.

He returns to you on the bed with a warm washcloth and gently cleans you up a bit before he scoops you up bridal style and carries you to the bath.

He carefully sets you down, letting you test the steadiness of your legs, before he begins ridding you of the body harness. Once he’s finished and tossed it to the side, he lends you his arm so you can step into the bath. You sigh deeply, the hot water relaxing your sore body. Hongjoong clambers in after you and makes himself comfortable behind you.

You rest your head on his shoulder and he circles his arms around your waist as he litters your face and neck with soft, tender kisses. You giggle, and you can feel him smile into one of his kisses.

“You’re perfect, Y/N, do you know that?”

“Nahh, far from it. But you, Kim Hongjoong? You just might be.”

“Pfft, absolutely not, baby. But for you I’d try to be.” He sees the bite mark he left on you and kisses it, satisfied that you’ll have a reminder of him, even if for a little while. “Looks good on you. I’ll be sad when it’s gone.” he says without even thinking.

“You could always make more, you know.”

He blinks and shakes his head. “Sorry, didn’t realize I said that out loud.”

You laugh at his realization. “But you did, and I meant what I said.”

You two fall into deep conversation, talking about dreams and aspirations, what you hope your future to look like, past relationships, family, anything that comes to mind, until the water turns cold. You begin to shiver a bit and that puts Hongjoong into motion.

He climbs out of the tub and you pout and the loss of him around you.

“Come here, it’s cold now, let’s get you into some comfy PJs.”

You take his hand and follow him and he dries you off as best as he can. He dresses you both in a fluffy robe to head back into the room. He urges you to sit on the bed while he rummages through your dresser to find something for you to wear.

“Ah ha! Here we go!” he says triumphantly as he heads to you with a matching purple silk pajama set.

“There should at least be some sweats in there for you that’ll fit that tiny little waist of yours, Captain.” you say playfully. He fishes those out as well, and heads back to you on the bed.

“I’m capable of dressing myself, Joong.” you say through tiny giggles as he helps you into your pajamas.

“Yeah, I know, but like… I just wanted to help. Sue me.” he retorts, acting like he is truly offended.

He gets onto the opposite side of bed and pulls you to him, laying you both down, clutching you tightly to his chest. He tucks you both into your down comforter and nuzzles into your neck.

“So warm.” he whispers into your neck. If he were a cat, you’re damn sure he would be purring right now.

“Hey, so what’s this I heard you talking about with Sannie? Something about doing this again? Without the phones? I was kind of out of it, but I think that’s what I heard?”

“Shit, I definitely thought you were asleep. But I mean, I would like to explore the option, if all parties involved are in agreement.”

“You’ll hear no objections from me!”

Just then your phone dings.

Wooyoungieeee

Holy shit, that was amazing. We should make out and piss them off more often ;)

You type out your response to him rather quickly

I think that might be in the plans, Woo lol

“Well, Woo is down” you show Hongjoong your text from him.

“And clearly so are San and I. So that settles that then. We are absolutely putting down some ground rules for you two naughty brats, though.” he showers your cheek with kisses.

“Ok baby,” he says with a yawn, his hand on your stomach under your pajama shirt rubbing little comforting circles, “I know we’re both exhausted, you especially. Let’s get some sleep. We can talk more about all of that tomorrow.”

“Ok, Joongi. Thank you again for tonight, and thank you for taking care of me.”

“That’s not something you ever have to thank me for, but you are more than welcome, baby.”

You let out a content sigh at the warmth and comfort from Hongjoong wrapped around you. You can hear his breathing slow and even, and that is what finally lulls you to sleep.

Read the next part of the series here.

[scarletlizzard]

Inked Desires - Part 2

Read Part 1 right here

Summary: After your one night stand with a stranger turns into a regular hookup, feelings begin to develop between you and Natasha. A night out at the bar with your friends has her begging wanting more with you.

Pairing: gp!Natasha x fem!Reader

Tags MINORS DNI: natasha has a dick, buff out this world & covered with tats and piercings, little bit of yearning and pining, mentions of alcohol, smut, blowjob, unprotected sex, breeding, begging, miscommunication

Masterlist

A/N: Part 1 blew up like crazy! I never ever thought I would EVER get that many notes. Especially for, essentially, a smut piece I wasn't used to writing. After being asked a few times, I agreed to make a part 2, buuut I've been in a (bad) writing rut lately. So I wanna shout out the person who gave me so many good ideas and an actual plot to work with. Y'all can thank just her for there actually being a part 2 cause there almost wasn't one 🙏 Thanks for helping, kisses for your big brilliant brain.

Hopefully, she and y'all like it? It's a bit longer. Let me know what you think, please, and thank you thank you so much for reading 💞

That being said, there will be a part 3 😄

"Split? Like down the middle?" Kate asks with a look of shock on her face. You walk in step beside her along the concrete path on campus.

"Right down the middle," you laugh and adjust the bag on your shoulder, thinking back to just a few days ago when Natashas skillful tongue worked its magic on your body. Your cheeks heat up at the memory.

That first night you met, Natasha had given you a kiss goodbye and gave you her number before you took a very drunk Kate Bishop home. Since then you had seen the redhead multiple times over the course of the last few weeks. Neither of you seemed to be able to keep your hands off of each other. Each time you met it was for sex, and even the time she had taken you to dinner it ended with you getting fucked into her mattress again.

You knew the basics about each other, where you lived, eachothers jobs... the more you thought about it the more it upset you. The physical level the two of you were on was heavenly, but really, well, you barely knew her.

Kates voice interrupts your thoughts as you enter the English building, and you stop walking as she does.

"What was that?" You ask, looking to the smirk plastered on her face with curiosity.

"I said, speak of the devil," she chuckles and nods her head in the direction of a very tall Natasha striding your way. "See you in there," Kate says and walks into the classroom, leaving you in the hallway.

You want to drown in the sight of her, wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt with old, dirty vans on her feet. You smile, trying not to drool at the way you can see the pops of color show from underneath her shirt or the way the sleeves seem too tight against her biceps as she grips the strap of her backpack.

"Hey there..." Natasha greets you with a smile, head pointing down as she stills before you. "Been a few days, haven't heard from you," she adds, her eyes baring into yours. You want to slap yourself for not replying to her text by the almost hurt look in her eyes.

"Well it hasn't even been a week, you miss me already?" You ask her with a little tilt of your head up at her, biting your lip as you see a blush spread across her cheeks. Her hand moves to the side of her neck, scratching at the ink awkwardly.

"No, no. Wait, I mean -" She lets out a sigh and shakes her head as you giggle at her. It was interesting, the difference in her appearance verses this nervous demeanor. "Maybe I did?" Natasha raises an eyebrow, the silver ring lifting higher.

"I might have missed you too," you shrug casually and watch as her face eases back into a smile. "I'm sorry I haven't texted, I've just been so busy with school and work." You point to the classroom next to you that Kate had entered. She follows the direction and nods.

"No worries, you're a busy lady. I actually took Mr. Furys class last year. Maybe I could take you for a coffee and give you some tips? Or maybe just um, talk?" Natasha asks, her tone quiet as she looks down to you.

You smile at the sincerity in her eyes. "I'm free after this class?" You take a step back, towards the room and match the wide smile on her lips.

"Sounds perfect," Natasha nods, and you can't ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest. Instead of taking another step away you walk forward, leaning up on your tip toes to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

Natasha can feel the burn on her cheeks, the affect you had on her drove her wild. You lean back and smile at her flustered state, leaving her alone in the now empty hallway.

An hour and a half later, you emerge from the classroom, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around at the sight of Natasha sitting on the floor. She had a book in her hand, closing it the moment she saw you and Kate walking towards her.

"Have you been sitting there this whole time?" You ask and tilt your head, watching the way her muscles flex as she runs a hand through her auburn hair.

"Uh, maybe?" A small blush hints on her cheeks, and she smiles at you and your friend. "I'm Natasha, by the way," she says and holds out her hand in front of Kate.

Kate chuckles at the formality, and you hit her arm, giving her a look. She shakes Natashas hand, "Kate... nice to finally meet you," She smiles back and looks next to her at you. "I'll see you tomorrow night, you should invite your friend."

You roll your eyes at Kates tease but nod and tell her you'll see her later.

"Coffee?" Natasha asks, and the ridiculous grin on her face is enough for you to agree to just about anything.

As you walk side by side, you can't help but admire her gentle personality. This woman, covered in tattoos and piercings with an intimidating gaze, was the complete opposite. She spoke to you about her schedule and that she was in school for sports medicine with a glint in her eyes.

"Like physical therapy?" You ask her curiously. You watched the way her face lit up at your interest, and she beamed down to you.

"Yeah, exactly that. If all else fails, I'll just be a personal trainer," she lets out a small chuckle, and you take the second she holds the door open for you to admire her toned body.

"How do I sign up? I need a good workout partner," you say with a flirtatious tone, brushing against her as you walk inside. You relish the blush on her cheeks and the small smirk on her lips as the smell of fresh coffee hits you.

"Didn't get a good enough workout last week?" Natasha replies.

"Oh, I had a great workout... but if I had a personal trainer, I'm sure I could get a good workout in at least a few times a week. Isn't that recommended?" You look up to her, seeing her neck redden and her eyes darken.

"I would definitely recommend that," Natasha mumbles as the two of you walk up to the counter.

As Natasha orders, you can't help but notice the change in her posture and attitude. Suddenly, she was standing straight, an impassive and series look on her face. Her tone was low as she talked to the woman at the counter. Natasha turns to you and nods for you to order. You do, and as she hands the woman her card, you smile up at her.

"Thank you for getting this for me," you say gratefully, watching her melt under your gaze. The smile was back, and her eyes came to life again. It seemed she had a soft spot for you.

"Of course, it's my treat," she says and walks you to a small table in the corner.

From there, you spend the entire rest of the evening actually talking and getting to know Natasha. As you already knew, she works out religiously, and you told her how lucky you felt that she had skipped her workout today just to sit down with you. She got her first tattoo at 18 and loved it, so she just never stopped getting them. The first piercing she got was on her eyebrow, and the same there, she just kept going.

It felt as if you were sitting in front of a whole new person than the one you met just weeks ago. The one who pile drived you into the mattress at a party and left you weak in the legs and sore the next day. Natasha was kind and sweet, funny, and surprisingly shy. Any time you made an attempt to flirt or give an innuendo, she would chuckle shyly and blush the slightest.

There were a few times you even had to squeeze your thighs as you thought back to that night. Any time her tongue would wet her lower lip or her eyes would travel to your neck. She loved your neck, you noticed. Every time you had hooked up her lips would go straight for the skin there, nipping at the few small freckles that adorned the area.

"That's a long time to be friends with someone," Natasha states as you finish telling her about yours and Kates relationship. Best friends since the fourth grade, completely inseparable.

"It's nice to have someone so close, who knows me so well. Especially since I'm an only child," you reply and watch her brow lift.

"Oh really? I have a sister, Yelena. She bugs the hell out of me, but I love her to death. She goes to the college just a couple of hours from here. Actually," Natasha looks at her phone, checking the time. "I'm supposed to meet her soon... she came home for the weekend."

You nod slowly and look around, realizing everyone had left and the two baristas were cleaning up. As the two of you stand, Natasha suddenly towering over at you, you feel a little disappointment in your chest. You were having more fun with her than you thought, and you found yourself not wanting to part.

"Hey, Kate and I are going to this bar tomorrow night. A few of our friends are getting together. Joes?" You say to her, smiling to yourself as she once again holds the door open for you.

"Yeah, I've been there a few times before," Natasha says with a grin, standing outside the coffee shop with you.

"If you want, maybe you and Yelena can meet us? You don't have to, of course, but..." You trail off.

"I will definitely be there. Text me a time?" She asks, and you nod happily. Natasha leans down, and you think for a second she's going to kiss you, but her lips land on the soft skin of your cheek. You put your hand on her arm as she does, feeling the tattooed skin burn underneath your touch.

****

Joes Bar is crowded, but that's to be expected on a Saturday night near a college campus. A local alternative band plays loudly on the small stage on one side of the room, and you find yourself on the opposite side sitting at the bar. Kate is nearby talking to friends and a few strangers, but you only had one person in mind.

You glance at your phone again, seeing no notifications. With a sigh, you finish your second drink, ordering a third as you contemplated the possibility she wasn't going to show up. This is why you didn't do this type of thing. You don't hook up with hot strangers. You don't get coffee with gorgeous, sweet women. You stayed to yourself, guarded your heart, and let yourself be safe from any type of rejection or heartbreak.

But God Natasha was worth breaking your rules.

You found your way back to reality as the bartender handed you a drink and said thank you before grabbing it and removing yourself from the bar stool. As you turn, you bump into someone, almost spilling your drink on them.

"Oh shit I'm so sorry!" You apologize, shaking the liquor off your hand as you had spilled a little on yourself.

"It's okay, I was just trying to squeeze in next to you," the woman says, and in your tipsy state, you raise an eyebrow. She seemed about your age, dirty blonde hair, and a familiar grin on her lips. You definitely hadn't seen her in here before.

"I was just getting up, actually. You can have my seat. Is that an accent I hear?" You ask curiously, moving out of the way so she could take your place.

"Yeah, I still have a bit of an accent, I was born in Russia. Lived there for a while," she says and nods. She then orders two drinks before turning back to you.

"Wow, you're a long way from there. You go to school here?" You ask her and sip your drink, feeling Kate stand behind you.

"No, but my sister does, though," the blonde smiles and grabs the two bottles of beer from the bartender. She looks at you and extends her arm towards Kate to hand her a bottle. You give her a confused look.

It's only then you realize, as an inked hand reaches over you to take the beer, that it's not Kate standing there, but Natasha. You turn instantly and look up, a habit your neck was quickly getting used to doing.

"Well, well, look who showed up," you say and take your bottom lip between your teeth. Natasha smiles at your words, noticing the way you take in her appearance.

If it was possible, Natasha looked hotter than ever. She wore a black t shirt underneath a leather jacket. Her flaming hair was behind her in a braid with a few loose strands framing her face.

"I see you've met my sister, Yelena," Natasha chuckles and nods in the direction of the blonde woman.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. Natty here hasn't been able to shut up abou-" Yelena is cut off by Natasha flicking the bottle cap at her face, a stern expression on the older woman's face.

You smile at the siblings' banter, watching Yelena laugh and shrug innocently. Whether it be the alcohol flowing in your bloodstream or the way Natasha looked at you, you slide your hand into hers. She tenses at first, not used to the public display of affection from you, but quickly relaxes as you intertwine your fingers with hers.

"Come on, come meet everyone," you say and tug on her hand in the direction of Kate.

You find them huddled around a pool table, watching as Kate lines up the pool tip to the cue ball with one eye closed. Carol stands leaning against her own stick, shaking her head and putting out the cigarette she smokes into the ashtray on the edge of the table.

"Anyday, Bishop..." Carol groans, earning a laugh from the group.

"Seriously, how long are you going to take?" Peter chimes in.

Kate ignores them and continues to stare intensely at the 8 ball. Her arm begins to pull back to take the shot, but as Yelena comes into focus on the opposite side of the table, Kate is finally distracted by the beautiful blonde. The cue ball misses her target completely, rolling across the table and sinking into the pocket.

"Scratch!" Carol cheers and high fives Monica. Kate looked up at Yelena, her lips parted as if she was going to speak, but no words came out. Carol then steps up to the table and sinks the 8 ball, ending the game with a dramatic bow.

You smile at the group, raising an eyebrow at the silent state of your best friend. "Guys, this is Natasha and her sister Yelena," you say, receiving waves and friendly greetings from everyone. You introduce them to the Romanoffs a little more before they rack up for another game.

"You any good?" Carol nods to Natasha, who gives a humble shrug.

"I'm decent," she replies with a smirk on her face as she brings the bottle to her lips. Carol hands the pool stick over before going to get drinks for the group.

"Hope you're good, Romanoff. We still haven't beat Y/N," Peter says begrudgingly. You only hum in response as Kate hands you her stick, positioning yourself across the table.

"Is that so?" Natasha watches with playful eyes as you skillfully break, the balls rolling in different directions along the table and a few of them sinking into the pockets.

When you lean up, you smile and reach your hand up to pat her cheek. "Good thing you didn't bet anything," you chuckle.

After a few back and forth turns, Carol returns with shots, to which you all cheer and take at the same time. The alcohol was definitely settling its way into your system now, and you were hot to the touch each time Natasha had to lean down to take her shot. Between the focused look on her face and the way the pool stick slid between her fingers, it was enough for you to want her right there.

You step forward next to her, looking at the direction of the shot she was trying to take. "That's a tough one, baby," you say to her, the term of endearment catching Natasha off guard.

Her body visibly tenses as she looks to you with a visceral reaction and swallows hard. You feign an innocent smile, taking a mental note to call her that again just to see her reaction. Natasha misses the shot and curses under her breath.

"That's not fair," she says and shakes her head as she stands tall. The red head removes her jacket, finding that the room was getting hotter.

You shrug and easily pocket two more balls on your turn. When you look to Kate to make a comment about the shot, you realize she's strayed from the group, chatting up Yelena. With your friends being in their own worlds at the moment, you decide to have a little fun with Natasha.

"You're not so bad, you know. The others have a hard time keeping up with me," you smile as she leans down, and your hand rests on her back, rubbing over her shirt.

"Y/n," Natasha mumbles, the blush on her cheeks evident she enjoyed your touch.

"Yes, Nat?" You pur, watching the muscles flex understand the fabric. Knowing you had this type of effect on her gave you a sense of power that only made you hungry for more. Your hand slithers underneath the bottom of her shirt, nails scratching at her back. She misses. You smile.

"You're a cheater, you know that?" Natasha says in a playful tone, her body naturally leaning towards you.

Your hands rest on her stomach, "I don't know what you're talking about." You lean up and plant a soft kiss on her lips, smirking as she leans down and melts against your mouth. "I'm just having fun," you whisper.

At that, you step away from her, crossing over to the opposite side of the table. You lean down more than you need to, and you don't miss the way Natashas eyes dart back and forth from your breasts to your neck. She finishes another bottle, and you can tell you've stressed her out by the way her hand grips the glass.

You continue to do the same thing for the remainder of the game, teasing her with every shot she took and making sure to bend in front of her any chance you could. It came down to the 8 ball, and you had to admit, you were dragging the game on longer than you needed to.

"Last one," you sigh and put your hand on the back of her neck as she leans down. Your fingers squeeze gently as she clears her throat, trying to ignore the shivers that run down her spine every time you touch her. You lean down with her, your lips brushing against her ear. "Good luck, baby," you whisper and kiss her cheek.

Her neck gets red at your words, and her grip on the stick only tightens. You think it'll snap in half with how hard she holds it. Natasha quickly shoots and misses, causing you to raise an eyebrow with just how quick she took the shot. Instead of stepping back, she continues to stand pressed against the table. "All yours," she mumbles and holds her hand out to the table, shifting uncomfortably as she stands.

You line up the shot and sink the black ball easily, looking up at her with a wide smile. She only gives you a small smile back with a nod. "Aren't you going to give me a victory kiss?" You ask as you step back to her.

Natasha hesitates for a moment but finally turns to face you. Your hands move up to wrap around her neck, your body pressing against her front as she leans in. Before your lips can touch your eyes, widen the slightest. You now realize the reason for the sudden uncomfortable physical shift she had taken when you felt her bulge pressing hard against you.

"Oh... was I teasing you too much?" You ask with a smirk on your lips. She rolls her eyes and moves to pull away, but you don't let her. "What was it?" You ask her.

"What was what?" She replies, her hands moving to your waist. You press your body further into her and relish the hiss that leaves her mouth.

You search her eyes, thinking to the moment her demeanor had changed. Suddenly, there was that power-hungry feeling again when you realized the reasoning. The fact that you could get her hot and bothered by a simple word leaving your lips, by your voice alone, and the thought of you driving someone like her mad. Natasha was weak in the knees for you, and she struggled internally with the way you made her feel. She wasn't used to it.

"Why don't you let me help you take care of your little problem... baby, " you whisper to her, feeling her shoulders tense above you. "Come on." You slide back and take her hand in yours, leading her away from the pool table and towards the bathroom.

As soon as both of you are inside and you lock the door, the two of you are on top of each other just like the first night you met her. Natasha kisses you feverishly, like she'd never been kissed before, with your back hard against the door. You welcomed her tongue into your mouth, moaning as the two halves wrap around your own.

With one hand, you hold onto the front of her shirt, gripping tightly, with the other you slide it in between your bodies, letting yourself grope the hard bulge in her jeans. Natasha lets a hint of a whimper leave her lips, one you hadn't heard since the first time with her, and you smirk into the kiss.

"What's the matter, baby? Do you need some help?" You ask innocently, lips ghosting hers. She breathes heavily and nods as your hands move to undo her belt.

"Sweetheart... please," she says, and you decide in that moment that you need her to say that again. Just the idea that this strong, formidable woman could so easily melt in your presence made you thrilled.

Her hands rest on either side above your head, pressed flat against the door as you slide her pants down. You can see the precum dampening a spot on her underwear, and you feel yourself get wet at the sight of it. She needed you, bad.

"Please, what?" You ask, your hand moves to grab her through her boxers, and you stroke her length through the thin fabric.

"Fu-fuck," she barely breathes out, eyes searching yours. Natasha hadn't begged a day in her life, but she would happily beg for you. She was at the point right now that she was willing to get down on her knees and beg for you. You made her desperate.

"Please touch me, please. You feel how hard I am for you? Just -" You squeezing a little harder makes her gasp before continuing. "I need you to touch me. Please, sweetheart... please, " she begs. You smile at her words, enjoying the way her body melts at your touch and the way she begs for you.

At her words you slide down her boxers, and her cock twitches at the feeling of finally being released. She lets out a sigh of relief as your delicate fingers wrap around her. "Is this what you wanted?" You hum, beginning to move your hand up and down. Natasha nods, chest beginning to rise and fall rapidly at your movements.

When you stop, she looks at you with a disoriented look, eyebrows lifting as she watches you drop to your knees. You take her cock in your hand, letting your other rest on her thick, toned thigh. From here you can see her happy trail peaking from underneath her shirt, making your panties wetter. The way she looks down at you with a breathless expression and parted lips makes you want to live your life on your knees for her. Your lips kiss along the side of her length, teasing slowly with your tongue licking up it. Natasha groans with pleasure at the feeling and her hips instinctively buck towards you.

You give in, not wanting to tease her anymore tonight, and take her cock into your mouth. The moan that leaves her mouth is outright sinful, and her fist hits the door with a thud as you begin to bob your head. Your cheeks hollow out when you begin moving faster, taking as much of her as you could. When the tip hits the back of your throat your eyes sting, tears threatening to leave your ducts. Natasha pants heavily above you, savoring the moment of you on your knees for her, sucking her off.

"Look at you, such a pretty girl with my cock in your mouth- fuck," Natasha speaks low to you, her eyes dark as she watches her cock disappear against your lips. Your fingers on her thigh dig in, your nails digging into her skin to leave crescent shaped marks, at her words. "All night you've been teasing me... this is the only way to shut you up, isn't it?" She says and you moan against her, the vibrations sending her close to the edge.

Her breathing gets heavier and you can tell she's about to cum, but before she can you quickly remove your mouth, your saliva coating her as you release with a pop. You stand, not ignoring the frustrated look on her face.

"Baby, I think you're confused," you say, your hands moving to the top of your dress. "You're not in charge right now," You let out a small laugh and pull down on the fabric, letting your breasts spill out. Natashas face reddens in response, and she immediately moves to kiss your chest. You can feel the marks she leaves as her lips trail across your breasts, her skillful tongue pleasuring your sensitive nipples.

Natashas' large hands move to the bottom of your dress as her kisses begin to litter up your neck. You let her move the material above and over your hips, but stop her as she reaches your panties. "I wanna hear you," you mumble out. She lets out a huff and pulls away from your neck.

"Y/n... please." Natasha says. You only continue to look at her with innocent eyes. The fact that she would beg for you - is begging for you, made you feel instant gratification.

"Please, pretty girl? Please let me make you feel good. I want to fuck you, want to make you feel good so bad..." She begs, and you let her slide your panties down your legs. Natasha slides her tip between your closed thighs, her cock now being coated from the wetness that spread between your legs.

She slips in between your folds, waiting for your words. Her fingers dig into your hips. "You drive me so fucking insane," Natasha whispers as her head ducks to your neck again. "I could cum from just looking at you. Just hearing you say my name. You know how much control you have over me?" Her hips continue rocking against you, your thighs squeezing her hard cock. She begins to pant again, her neck red and hot to the touch as you wrap your arms around it, interlocking your fingers behind her head.

"Please," Natasha whimpers, and the sound is enough to make you moan. You needed to feel her inside you immediately, hear more of those moans leave her lips.

"Show me how bad you want me, how insane I make you feel," you finally say and lean forward to bite her lower lip. She wastes no time lifting you up, helping you wrap your legs around her hips. Your back presses against the door again and with one hand she guides her cock inside of your warm velvet walls, easily ,with how wet you were for her.

Natasha begins to thrust up into you, a feeling you had become accustomed to these past few weeks, although you weren't sure you'd ever get used to her size. She groans against your chest, nipping at the skin. The small bathroom fills with the sounds of her pounding into you, both of you moaning practically in sync with every thrust.

"So good, pretty girl, feel so good wrapped around my cock. I love fucking this pretty pussy," she breathes heavy against your skin as she speaks. You hold on tightly to her, only breathless moans escape your lips in response.

Suddenly, from the outside, someone bangs on the door, Natasha doesn't halt her descent on you. "Can you hurry the fuck up in there?" A stranger yells from the other side. Your eyes widen, a little bit of adrenaline rushing into your chest as she continues fucking into you.

Natasha smiles, now at your flustered state. "Occupied," is all she replies before her thrust picks up the pace. "You better keep quiet, sweetheart. You don't want everyone to know how much of a slut you are for me, letting me fuck you in the bathroom."

You squeeze your eyes closed as she fucks herself into you, trying your best to keep quiet. Each thrust was now hitting that special spot inside of you and drawing you closer to an orgasm. The feeling of her muscles flexing around you only intensified that feeling.

"Fuck I-I can't I'm-" Natasha stutters out as she groans into your neck, feeling your hot cunt tighten around her cock.

"Me too, Nat," you moan along with her, and your legs squeeze around her waist. "Let go, baby... wanna feel you fill me up." You watch her face twist in pleasure at your words, and the fact that it was enough to make her cum only added to your ego in the moment. Natasha grunts against your skin as she does just what you say, filling you up completely.

The sensation alone is enough to make you follow right behind her, the burn in your lower stomach blazing as you scream out her name.

"That's it, sweetheart, that's it... such a good girl for me," she coos as you fall apart in her arms, kissing your face as you breathe heavily. Your head falls against her shoulder, face panting in the crook of her neck as she holds you tightly, letting you come down off your high.

After a few moments she pulls out slowly, and you can feel the mixture of both your arousal dripping down your thighs. Natasha carries you to the sink, letting you rest on the hard surface while she pulls her pants back up and you fix the top of your dress.

"Hi," she says with a smile. You giggle, remembering she said the same thing afterward on the first night at her party.

"Hi," is all you reply, grabbing her shirt in your hand and pulling her closer to kiss you again.

****

"They have eight legs and eight eyes. How are they not scary?" Peter drunkenly speaks to Monica, who sits next to him with an amused look.

After your time in the bathroom with Natasha, the two of you had rejoined the group, and over the course of two hours, you had become increasingly wasted with the rest of your friends. As Yelena joined in on the topic of spiders, you feel Natasha rest her head back against your front.

She sat slouched back in one of the chairs that scattered near the table while you stood behind her, hands stroking her neck and massaging her shoulders. You can't help but smile down at her.

"You're so cute," you giggle and watch her brow raise. Your finger traces the dark lines on her neck.

"Anything but cute," Natasha groans, with a playful smirk on her face. "Why do you say that?"

"You're different than you look, you know? Why are you so nervous around me?" Your words slur, and she chuckles at your drunken state with a shrug, looking at the beer bottle she held in her hand.

"Must be the alcohol?" She says. You shake your head and poke her nose.

"You were drinking when I first met you, and you weren't like this," you point out and watch her swallow. You decide to move in front of her, settling yourself between her muscled thighs. As you stand in front of her, she sits up straighter, the two of you now practically the same height.

You take her hand in yours, playing with her fingers. She smiles a little as she looks at your intertwined hands.

"Maybe I was drinking that night to get enough courage to talk to you... and maybe I- maybe I'm drinking tonight to get enough courage to say I want more with you. More than... the hookups," she says and finally looks back up at you. Your heart races in your chest at her words, panic written on your face as you freeze in front of her.

That was exactly what you wanted. More of her, more of this beautiful person who was even more beautiful inside. To get to know what makes her really tick, what makes her happy, how her day was, how she likes her coffee. She wanted more, too, so why were you not speaking out loud?

"What?" Is all that comes out of your mouth.

Natashas face falls completely, misinterpreting your flustered state for a sign of rejection. She had hoped this wouldn't happen. Part of her wondered if this had just been a hook up, but the other part of her desperately hoped it wasn't.

Before the words could leave your parted lips, Kate calls over to you, taking the attention of both you and Natasha.

"Y/N, you ready to go? You can stay if you want, I'm gonna take Pete home, though," she nods to the direction of where he sat drunk rambling to Yelena.

"No, not -"

"Actually, Yelena and I have a lot to do tomorrow. We should head out too," Natasha interrupts you and stands, her hand moving to your lower back as you stare up at her with a pout.

"Are you sure?" You ask her, your hand reaching out to her side. She tenses under your grasp.

"Yeah, I'll text you later," She smiles at you, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes this time.

You nod anyways and smile back, leaning up to kiss her lips softly. "Thank you for tonight.. Hopefully, we can do it again soon?"

And while you were talking about hanging out with her, Natasha assumes you were talking about her fucking you.

"Yeah, soon," she lets out a breath and grabs her jacket, not taking a second look back at you as her and Yelena exit the bar.

***

A smile fills your face as your head hits the pillow, the soft comforter pulled over you as you lie on your warm bed and mull over tonights events. You wondered why Natasha had left in such a hurry before you could say anything, but you decided not to think too hard on it. She probably did have to go. It was early in the morning by the time you left, and besides, you would hear from her later.

Every morning, she texted you a quick and sweet text, telling you to have a good day.

Your chest swelled at the thought of it, how sweet it was that such a small, simple thing could brighten your entire day. What you assumed would happen tomorrow is that the two of you would talk about wanting more and how desperately you agreed with her about it.

But when the late morning came and the sunshine streamed through the windows, no text came with it.

[vrystalius]

Pls pls pls pls make one about Muzan finding reader gone and turns out she was in their kid's room trying ti stop them from crying and the baby just cries even more after seeing Muzan cause he don't spend no time with em so the baby don't recognize him.

Demon king’s heir

Muzan’s own baby doesn’t recognise him as the father.

Here’s pt.2!

Pairing: Muzan x fem!reader

You’ve been tending to your baby on your own since you’ve given birth. Muzan just took some blood samples from your baby and barely ever showed his face around your assigned wing of the infinity castle. You’ve been missing the man you fell in love with. He was so romantic and affectionate with you before your birth. You two been to many dates that range from talking in restaurants to visiting tech museums together. Without his presence around, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly lonely.

Muzan is not even bothering to come by to check on the condition of you or your baby boy. It felt like that man only used you to try making a demon-human hybrid baby. Now that he achieved his goal and got blood samples, does he not want to do anything with you anymore?

You sighed tiredly, rocking your ever crying baby. What’s up with him the last few nights? He keeps crying and crying. He doesn’t want food or attention, or a diaper change. Before you could think about any other reason for his crying, you felt an incredible powerful presence suddenly appearing near you, accompanied by the sound of a biwa string being plucked. Your knees buckled as you felt overwhelmed from the shift of energies. You leaned onto the crib of your boy and held onto your crying baby tightly, anticipating your husband to open the door to the nursery any moment.

Muzan glanced around in your bedroom. The cries of the baby reached his eyes and he scrunched his eyebrows together from that ear piercing sound. How infuriating. He massaged the bridge of his nose and stepped towards the nursery, opening up the door. “My sweet.” His voice sounded sharp as your husband greeted you.

You turned around to him and glared at the man. The baby boy in your arms clung onto your night robes, quieting his cries slightly. He seemed to sense the presence of that man and felt intimidated.

Muzan eyed the bundle of life in your arms and stepped closer to you. “How has my son been?” “Your son has been missing you.” Your voice was laced in venom as you turned away from him, bouncing the fussy baby in your arms. He furrowed his brows and sighed. “Are you upset with me? I am very busy.” He heard your scoff and tightly gripped your shoulder, forcing you to face him. “I want to hold him.” Muzan glanced down at your baby boy, who stared back at him with big eyes. He seemed confused almost. You protectively held your baby closer to your chest. “Why? Do you need more blood samples?” “Just give him to me.” His voice sounded demanding and left no space for arguments. You carefully handed over your baby boy to Muzan, showing him how to hold him properly and how to support his neck. He stared down at the baby in his arms as his eyes seemed to soften a little. He tried tickling his soft tummy a little, but as Muzan tried to touch his son, the baby cried out and started wiggling against his gentle hold.

The whaling cries made your husband tense and tighten his grip on the baby. His aura darkened and he reached out for the face of your precious child. Fearing he’ll do the worst, you quickly wrapped your arms around your baby boy and slipped him out of Muzan’s arms, shushing him quietly. “Shhhh… mommy’s here.. I’m here, it’s okay…” You quietly spoke to your boy as he began calming down slowly. The baby stopped crying and wiggling around, instead gripping onto your clothes and refusing to let go.

Muzan frowned st the sight. Was his son not recognising him? How dare he? Why is that whiny thing not recognising him as his father? He reached out to the baby again, but it just began crying again, hiding his face by nuzzling against your clothes and skin.

You turned away from Muzan, shielding your boy from the sight of him. “You should leave or else he won’t sleep at all tonight. Return to your research. I’ll be fine be fine on my own.” He doesn’t appreciate being commanded around. “I’ll do as I please.” His voice sounded darker and more upset as Muzan stepped closer and looked at his baby over your shoulder. The boy has already calmed and closed his eyes. The baby looked much more peaceful nuzzling against your body like that. “Hm.” He quietly noted how his son preferred your presence over his.

He turned away from you and stepped out of the nursery. The sound of a biwa being strung echoed through the halls of the infinity castle as your husband disappeared again. You glanced down at your baby boy.

“It’s okay, the scary man is gone now.”

💠

I may or may not really really love this man, alongside the other demons. Don’t get me wrong, I fell inlove with almost all the characters in the kny-verse (except a couple characters like the clomes of Upper Four, Emmu, Obanai…), but I just feel magically pulled towards the upper moons, the angry wind hashira, his brother, the sun breather and his brother as well. Thank you so much for requesting, this was so fun!!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough <3

Take care of yourselves <3

[venjras]

CHEATING TROPE - GOJO SATORU.

not my usual cup of tea but here we are. sfw, mention of cheating,

his gaze was always on you. whenever you were in the same room, even from opposite sides, his attentive eyes did not miss even the smallest of your movements.

funny considering the fact that he had a girlfriend. you had met him when they were already a couple, you had heard from megumi that they weren’t going to last long. opposite characters, in the worst possible combination ever, the only great thing was sex and as an answer that was already enough. probably the pressure from the parents had something to do with it too, hers was a powerful family that would benefit their business immensely. since one day it would become his.

anyway, now you were at the fushiguro house, you were there for a group assignment, the house was empty except for you and that raven head immersed in books. a small snort escaped your lips, continuing to write down the results of the research you two had taken the last two hours. you were sure that your head would end up exploding keeping up like this.

“toruuuuu, i don’t want to stay here. let’s go home, my parents are waiting us for dinner.” fuck, no. that high-pitched voice was capable of piercing your eardrums like nothing. a roll of eyes and the kitchen door swinging open revealing their figures behind it. gojo and his bimbo girlfriend who was clinging to his arm, almost as if she were an extension of him and depended on it to survive. now the idea of ​​going back to your house was even more inviting. he went to ruffle his younger cousin’s hair, who muttered something inaudible in response. “you’re such a nerd, at this rate you’ll become a book yourself.” he added with a laugh, then pointed his gaze at you from under the thick sunglasses he always wore. time to realize it and the girl was already pulling him by the arm, muttering as if she were a child extremely in need of attention.

breathe, breathe, breathe.

“do you still keep the chemistry book in your room? we might need it for a more in-depth study of the last part.” you don’t even bother waiting for an answer, leaving the room, which had become too narrow by now, and heading upstairs. running away was your only chance, otherwise you wouldn’t have gotten out alive. there was something that was digging under your skin every time you met them, you still had to figure out what, but when you thought you were getting the solution it was as if your mind refused to process it. now you were safe, in megumi’s room looking for a book that you remembered perfectly well that he had forgotten at school, the perfect excuse to waste more time looking for it.

“running away won’t get you anywhere, you know that right sweetheart?” the deep voice echoed in your ears, hitting straight to your head. straightening your back and continuing to search on the desk, moving various papers. “it will definitely take me away from the beautiful voice of your girlfriend who, in my personal opinion, isn’t particularly pleasant.” the answer was immediate, spontaneous, perhaps too much so. seeing out of the corner of your eyes that a sly smile was making its way onto his lips. “actually, if you allow me, I’d go down and save gumi before his eardrums shatter in a million pieces.”

you go to the door but his figure doesn’t move, taking up the entire frame and preventing you from passing. now you were face to face, the perfect moment to realize how he had abandoned his glasses and now his crystalline eyes were fixed on you only. bad, bad idea. you try to pass through the small gap on the right but he promptly covers it with his long torso, making your eyebrows gather. “may i?” you move closer but nothing, he doesn’t show any signs of moving back, on the contrary. he crosses his arms in front of his chest, looking at you amused. “and what if i don’t want to?” he tilted his head to the side, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth. you could do nothing but sigh, placing a hand on his chest, trying to move him but instead feeling only the mass of muscles stiffen. marble, that's what it could be compared to. this must have been the result of who knows how much training.

hold your thoughts, hold your thoughts.

“i want a kiss.” he said it so calmly that you almost had a fit, you must have heard wrong and your expression clearly betrayed your confusion. you saw him lower himself to your height, remaining just a few centimeters from your face, you felt his breath on your cheek. “i want a really nice kiss and after that i’ll move." this time the words reached your ears clearly, there was no possible misunderstanding.

and everything happened too quickly to even realize. his breathing getting closer and closer, the bodies that seemed to attract each other like magnets, he finally detached from the doorframe and obviously you saw an opportunity and took it. you took advantage and moved him enough to have a space to pass, exiting the room and with your foot on the first step. “you can do much better than that, toru.” you said that name purposely with the cadence of his girlfriend, shooting him a wink and rejoining the two in the living room.

the cheating trope had never been your favorite anyway.

maybe i’ll do a part two, i don’t know yet.

©️ venjras.

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Twenty: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/ spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, GEN. SMUT, [All possible tags listed, all may not apply] GORE, MURDER

Info: Aw ur having such a cute dinner party... wtf is that?? [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

”Jesus Anakin, what happened?” You gasped, seeing the damaged door of his car as he walked you toward it. You crouched down and touched the big scrape, feeling the dented and scratch metal beneath your fingertips with a wince as you turned to look up at him, you were surprised to see a little smile on his face when you’d expected one of annoyance or anger.

”Some little girl backed into it.” He snickered, giving you a hand up from your squatted position. “Looks like there are worse drivers than you out in the world. Makes me shudder to think about.” He dramatically shivered, opening up your car door for you and guiding you into your seat with a hand on your ass.

”Was she alright?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed when he plopped himself down in the drivers seat and slammed the door shut. 

“Yeah, it was a stationary accident. She was fine, just real upset.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair before starting the car and reaching over to put a hand on your thigh while he drove. “She had the tiniest dent and just a bit of paint on the bumper. Worried sick her momma would be mad about the insurance going up.”

”Oh poor thing.” You winced, knowing all too well the worry of something like that happening from experience.

”No, don’t ‘poor thing’ her.” He snorted, patting your thigh affectionately. “I told her to get some WD-40 and a magic eraser, it’ll fix it up and her mom won’t notice the dent for a while, its so small.” 

“Well what are you gonna do about your car?” You asked, feeling a strange mixture of pride in Anakin for taking care of the issue for the young girl and a dash of irritation that he’d be paying for the damage on his car when it wasn’t even his fault.

”Cliegg will take care of it.” Anakin shrugged, clearly unbothered by the whole situation.

”Really?” You raised an eyebrow in surprise, not realizing his stepfather had any auto-body experience.

”Yeah, we’ll buff the paint and pop the dent out, its no big deal doll.” He said reassuringly. Squeezing your knee as he drove the short distance back home. 

After arriving at your apartment you were pleasantly surprised to see that your entire apartment was spotless. The dishes were gone, the trash had been taken out, the floors vacuumed and mopped so well that you could catch a whiff of the faint scent of the cleaning solution he’d used. Even the basket of laundry had been emptied and put away. It was so nice to come home to a clean, fresh smelling home like this, you’d missed it so much more than you’d realized. 

It nearly made your heart ache. 

“Anakin you didn’t have to do all this.” You turned around, giving him an appreciative smile and swallowing the little lump in your throat that was trying to creep up and stop your breathing. 

“I know that princess,” He said softly, the corner of his mouth curving up into a smile. “I just thought you might be able to relax a little better if i took care of it for you.”

”Thank you for being so sweet.” You whispered, inching closer to him until you were able to rest your head against his chest and allow him to hold you close.

“Anything for you doll,” He murmured, pressing his lips to the crown of your head lovingly. “You’re all tense sweetheart.” 

Anakin rubbed your back, one hand cupping the base of your skull, his fingertips gently scratching your scalp. After a moment of standing there comforting you, he pulled back and stroked your cheek with his thumb. He sighed, smiling down at you like you’d hung the moon just for him, you couldn’t help but blush. It was an endearing quality of his, the ability to love you so thoroughly that he didn’t even have to speak the words aloud. It often made you wonder if you exuded that same warm feeling for him, you wanted him to feel it like you did. 

It was odd, how one minute you were so completely enraptured in Anakin’s presence and the next you were punching down every guilty feeling or idea threatening to interrupt those sweet little daydreams. It seemed nearly impossible to get through a single line of thought without being intercepted and hijacked. It made you not want to think at all, made you wonder what it would be like to feel nothing but a void in your soul, not the kind that ached, the kind that burned your stomach and clawed your throat. You wanted the kind that was far removed from emotion the kind of void that was blank, empty and cold.

“Sorry, I- I was just thinking about getting in the shower.” you leaned back to look up into his face before getting to extricate yourself from his embrace.

“Let me come with you?” Anakin murmured, not entirely a question but not really a demand either. “I’ve missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” You said quietly, you had missed him of course, but there was someone out there you missed more. Not due to lack of love for Anakin, simply because it had felt like years since you’d spoken to the hunter who owned you as prey.

“Yeah, c’mon Ani.” Your voice a soft tone, hoping he’d accept the sudden subdued moment between you as one of reined in lust, rather than one of longing for another.

Anakin didn’t seem to notice, too busy ushering you toward the bathroom while he was ripping his clothing off. Whipping his shirt off over his head so aggressively that you heard one of the stitches pop, soon followed by the clattering of his belt and soft thud of his jeans hitting the bathroom floor.

“Mm.” Anakin grunted in a pleased manner as he watched you undress and toss your clothes into the laundry basket. “I love that pretty little set.” 

He whistled low and lustful as he stepped forward to fully appreciate the delicate fabric of your matching bra and panties. The snug bra had a cute, innocently sexy quality to it, the white and pink lace contrasting beautifully with your skin, the panties nearly entirely see through in the best way.

Anakin couldn’t stop smiling as he guided his palms over the soft planes of your physique as if he were seeing it for the first time all over again. Pausing his rough fingertips at the center of your spine he flicked his tongue out against your bottom lip and down your cheek to lave at your neck as a public declaration in purple. Both hands left a fiery wake as they slipped beneath the band of your bra and popped the clasp loose.

“Never gets old.” He shook his head and whispered quietly. “Every time I fall in love all over again.” 

“Ani, n-not yet.” You stuttered as he started to drag his tongue across your chest, goosebumps cropping up over your flesh so rapidly that it startled you. “At least let me rinse off the restaurant stink!” You squealed as he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you into the shower.

”Brace yourself.” He giggled, turning on the water once you’d pulled the shower curtains closed. The water sprayed down cold upon your skin, making you gasp before it grew warmer. 

“Shit, that was colder than I thought it’d be.” He shivered, chilly hands caressing your stomach until he reached the pillowy softness of your breasts, rubbing his thumbs over your pebbled nipples. “Worth it.” He grinned.

”Fuck you.” Swatting at his hands in playful defiance when you realized he wasn’t just being impatient, he’d wanted you to get doused in freezing water for his own satisfaction.

”Nope.” He shook his head, wrapping his arms around your slowly warming body, his lips tickling the sensitive skin of your earlobe. “I’ll be fucking you.”

The gravelly undertone of his voice rippled across your flesh and wormed its way down the planes of your body until it ripped into the coil growing taut in your core. Just like that, quicker than a snap of the fingers, you were putty in his strong, tattooed hands. His lips trailed down your neck, nibbled across your collarbone, and traveled to your breasts. His mouth and hands took their time massaging and tasting your water slicked skin, his little teasing nibbles turning into harder, needier bites as he moaned and fell to his knees.

”You just stay right there and make those pretty noises for me.” He murmured, lifting one of your legs to hook over his shoulder before nuzzling into your cunt.

”Anakin,” panting already as you grasped at his damp hair. “Anakin just fuck me already, you’ve been teasing me since we stepped in here.” You whined, trying to pull his face away from the apex of your thighs. 

Anakin’s hands roamed up your stomach and he shifted his position to tilt you farther back into the corner of the shower. He kept one firmly anchored to your hip that rested on his shoulder, the other gripped your chin with his thumb, pinky and ring fingers holding you in place. His middle and pointer finger forcing their way between your lips and pressing down on your tongue to shut you up.

”I want what I want and I’ll have it.” He growled, nipping your clit before diving back in to continue his work. His tongue tirelessly lapping at your folds, waning every time you neared orgasm until he had you desperately mewling around his fingers, your hips bucking against his smiling face. ”Keep your hands behind your back or I’ll make you wait longer.” He murmured, holding back a chuckle.

“Please?” You slurred, drool pooling in the corner of your mouth as you gagged on his fingers, your hands itching to move and force him to stay where you wanted him.

”You wanna cum?” He rasped, looking up at you beneath his thick lashes while flicking his tongue back and forth as he awaited your answer. A thick, garbled moan and rapid nod confirmed what he already knew, making him snicker as he slowly rose up.

”Well, you’ll just have to wait.” He whispered, wiping his face on your breasts, planting a kiss on your sternum before turning you until the water pelted your back so you’d face him while he soaped up your body.

”You’re joking.” You squeaked, your chest heaving with each breath as you shivered under the soapy loofah, the rough netting setting your already sensitive skin ablaze. “You can’t just-“

”Oh yes I can.” He interrupted you, a devilish smirk gracing his lips. “You were the one who wanted to wait until after the shower right?”

”But not like this! That was before you tortured me!” You whined, angrily grabbing the shampoos bottle, eager to get out of the shower and into the bed.

”C’mon doll, don’t complain or I’ll make it so much worse.” Promising more than just teasing, Anakin was promising a world full of nothing for you and all pleasure for himself.

”I need you, in a bad way.” He mumbled, spinning you to face the shower head so he could take over scrubbing your scalp and carding the shampoo down your tangled strands of hair. “Been waiting for you all evening, its your turn to wait now.” He growled, pressing his hardened erection against your ass, slotting it between your thighs to rub the tip against your folds, his rough hands gripping the base of his cock as he groaned. 

“This is so mean.” You whimpered, tilting your hips backward and grinding back on him.

”You better quit.” He chuckled, samcking your hip lightly before making you turn your back to the stream of water once again to rinse the suds from your hair. 

You couldn’t help but stare down at his hard, throbbing length. It stood there so proudly, so thick and pretty, adorned with that shiny silver jewelry that you never knew you needed before him. In the span of time that he’d had you distracted just by existing, he’d rinsed out your hair and rinsed himself off as well, the masculine scent of his body wash clinging to the steam of the shower. 

“Time for bed?” You grinned, wiggling your eyebrows as he led you out the shower and onto the soft bath mat, wrapping you in a towel.

”Oh you’re sleepy?” He teased, struggling not to smirk. “Well, I suppose I could wait until t-“

”No! You know that’s not what I meant!” You scowled, grabbing his wrist and dragging him along behind you to the bedroom. 

“Moody little thing.” He mumbled under his breath just loud enough for you to hear. He used his free arm to pull you back against his chest, using your tight grip on his wrist to his advantage by twisting your arm behind your back. With that arm trapped between yourself and his chest, he leaned in closer, his plump lips brushing against you ear. “I believe we’ve discussed this before. Do. Not. Raise. Your. Voice. At. Me.” 

Each word was punctuated with a pause that seemed louder than the words themselves. You’d heard that phrase. Heard it enunciated identically to this. The only difference between then and now is the person. 

“What did you just say to me?” You whispered, the warmth of your cheeks, flushed from arousal turned icy cold and pallid within milliseconds.

”I said not to raise your voice at me babydoll.” Anakin said sweetly, kissing your neck chastely before releasing you from his firm grasp, spinning you out of his hold as if on the dance floor. “It’s rude.” He chuckled, backing you up to the bed.

“Right.” You tried to swallow but it seemed as if you had temporarily lost that ability, “You’re right. I’m sorry.” 

You were startled, the aggressive embrace, the sudden change of tone, the familiar dialogue… that’s all it was. Familiar dialogue. Anakin was always a stickler for behavior, it wasn’t the first time you’d been chided by him over something small and it wouldn’t be the last. Anakin is aggressive sometimes too, this is fine.

“Atta girl.” Anakin chuckled, grabbing your chin in one hand, bringing your face closer to his for a slow, tender kiss. “I love it when you listen.” He murmured against your lips. 

“Doing my best.” You laughed uncomfortably, turning your head to the side to avoid his eyes.

”Aww, feeling shy?” He teased, stepping closer until you were forced to bend backward in order to look up into his face. 

Anakin cupped the back of your head in his large palm, using his free hand to hike one leg up over his hip. His tongue starting in the dip at the base of your throat, swiping side to side in a sidewinder fashion until he reached your jaw. The tip of his tongue traced the underside of your jaw lightly, traveling up the shell of your ear and ending with his teeth nibbling your earlobe. 

The sensation left behind was a cold flamed fire that spread from your flesh and began to seep deep into the marrow of your bones. 

“Shy?” You repeated in a whisper, having trouble forming a straight line of thought. Your brain felt off-kilter, like a switchboard operator had plugged all the cords in wrong. 

“Oh, poor thing.” He snickered, pushing you down gently. “You sound kinda stupid. Maybe just let me do the talking for now okay?” 

“S-sure.” You nodded, frowning slightly before one of his massive hands clamped down over your mouth.

”Good girl.” He grinned, pushing down on your stomach with his other hands laying flat, splaying his fingers to almost fully cover you abdomen. “Now lets see how long you can stay quiet.”

Diary Entry: October 14th

I love you. I love you so much. But I love that deer in the headlights  look on your face when I stitch your two worlds together even more. Why won’t you just admit it to yourself? Why do you continue to torture yourself like this? It’s baffling.  You’re sleeping beside me right now, if you could even consider what you’re doing to be sleep. Whimpering and mumbling in a  ‘being chased by a monster In your dreams’ kind of way. I’ve tried petting you, playing with your hair and even talking quietly. The only thing that seemed to work was  when I started to doodle in my notebook, maybe somewhere in the back of your mind you associate the sound of pencil on paper with safety. The brain is so weird in that way.  How is it that you couldn’t ever hear me break in and roam around your apartment but you could hear me sit in the floor with your cat in my lap and write in my journal? At this point I think even taking off my mask right in front of you wouldn’t convince you to see the truth.  What excuses are you giving yourself now?  What excuse are you going to come up with after you find out what I’ve done? 

Diary Entry: October 14th

I’m glad I kept the hall camera up. I’m glad I still check it, I’m glad I still have all the previous footage.   Lacey is a liar. 

October 15th

”Oh god, that’s just…” Luke gasped, the color in his cheeks draining clean to the floor beneath his as he stared at the tv in his living room. 

“Why the hell do they put crime scene photos like that on the damn news? Jesus.” Han said, whipping his hand out to the side to cover Luke’s face, knowing how squeamish he was compared to the average person. The photo didn’t reveal much at all, just a blurred figure sitting upright behind a counter.

“It’s the news Han, it’s not supposed to be puppies and rainbows.” Anakin said flatly, shutting the fridge door with two beer bottles in his hand, holding them by the neck and bringing them down on his knee. The first cap popped off easily and he caught it with his free hand, shifting the bottles slightly, he brought them down on his knee again and popped off the other cap.

“Well you’d think they wouldn’t put a dead guy on screen.” Han huffed, shaking his head.

”Show off.” You teased Anakin, watching him open the beers while you were busy rinsing the dishes from dinner off in the sink to then set up in the dishwasher. 

“That’s what I do baby.” He shrugged, a grin on his lips as he plopped himself down on the other side of Han, handing him one of the beers. 

“It was all blurred on purpose, they didn’t show anything gross.” Anakin said to Han dismissively. “Just don't watch the 20/20 special they’ll put out. They always get their hands on a couple gnarly crime scene pictures.” 

“Ain’t that right.” Luke gagged dramatically, recalling a memory of the true crime show that he and Han had watched a few weeks prior. 

“I don’t get why they haven’t released the name yet.” You mumbled, leaning against the counter as you glanced at the tv. “You think it was a minor?”

“No, they would’ve said that by now.” Anakin shook his head, sipping his beer. “They’re probably waiting for the autopsy or the family or something.”

_______________________________________________

“What you’re seeing on screen now is a security photo, taken from a CCTV camera inside the building.” A male news anchor gestured to the upper left corner of the screen where a black and white photo was being displayed. It was grainy and dark, half of the lens obscured by something. “This is the only image released to the press via the police department, we were unable to confirm if this is the only image containing the suspect.”

_______________________________________________

“What am I even looking at?” You asked, walking up behind the couch and leaning over Anakin’s shoulder.

“I don’t see a person there.” Luke said, craning his neck to the side in an attempt to see it from a different perspective.

_______________________________________________

“Sources state that the substance obscuring the camera lens is black spray paint, making the majority of the image completely useless.” The news anchor spoke with a clear voice, pausing for a moment before speaking again.

“Analysis has confirmed that this re-touched image holds the only current clue to who the suspect is.” He paused again while a new photo appeared on screen, slightly different in color tone and slightly less grainy. The difference of the pictures side by side was quite clear, just above the black spray paint splotch, a slightly different shade of black and grey could be seen. “Highlighted within the yellow circle, you can just barely make out the shape of a hand holding the spray paint can.”

“Police are fairly certain the suspect is wearing a black long sleeved shirt or sweatshirt, as well as black gloves. Due to the poor quality, they were unable to determine the material of the clothing and gloves.” The female news anchor took over speaking while live footage of the crime scene played on screen. Police tape, an evidence tent and a coroner’s van could be seen in the center of the shot.

”Investigators working the scene have claimed there seems to be no clear motive in the murder and no suspect has been cited. The victim was a young, well liked individual, whose family claims had ‘no enemies’.” The female anchor continued, pausing again before switching gears slightly.

“The mall will remain closed for the next two weeks while the police continue to gather evidence. All other information is being withheld from the public while the investigation is still in it’s beginning stages. More on this story tonight at 6:00pm.”

_______________________________________________

“That's it?” Han scoffed, shaking his head in frustration at the short ‘update’. “This is almost worse than ‘Frat Lake’.”

“What?” You squeaked, the heat in your body all rising to your head at once, making you feel light headed. 

“You know, ‘Frat Lake’.” Luke turned around to look at you, “Those guys they found in the cabin across the lake from ours.”

“Oh, no… I know what you’re talking about. I guess I just didn’t realize they’d given the case a name.” You said quickly, trying not to stumble over your words.

“Well it’s like one of the main things in the news still, of course they gave it a name.” Luke said, shifting in his seat to put his arm on the back of the couch. “I don’t know about you but I still don’t think that kid did all of that by himself.”

“What makes you say that?” Anakin asked, his hand reaching up to snake underneath your arm and squeeze your bicep as if he could sense your nervousness even if he didn’t consciously recognize it.

“It was all so weird.” Luke said, looking over at Han. “Didn’t they say there weren’t any fingerprints anywhere?”

“Yeah, no fingerprints, no serial number on the gun, no bullet in the one dude.” Han mused aloud, each syllable from his lips making your stomach rise an inch higher in your throat. “He left those others alive, in the closet. It just didn’t make sense.”

“Well, shit happens.” Anakin said nonchalantly. “Maybe the plan changed.” Anakin’s thumb brushed back and forth over the soft skin of your inner arm, tilting his head up and to the side to kiss your arm. 

“Maybe, yeah.” You agreed, your eyes shifting away quickly as your cheeks grew hot and your throat began to itch. “He probably realized he’d screwed up big time and panicked. Maybe that’s why he posted that stuff before he killed himself.” You suggested, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation but feeling it was more awkward not to give any input. So you simply repeated a paraphrased version of what Ghost had said to you.

“Probably.” Han agreed, nodding slowly before he put his arm across Luke’s shoulder. “I mean they weren’t good people so I kind of have a hard time feeling too bad about it.”

Anakin snickered at Han’s comment, turning his head away from the group for a moment before returning his eyes to the tv. 

“What? You think they should’ve gotten away with it?” Han asked with a scoff. “Maybe they didn’t deserve to die, but I think a few days in that closet might have been good for them.”

“Oh no, not at all. I’m with you 100%.” Anakin said with a crooked upturn in his top lip. “I’d say you’re probably right on the nose there buddy. That’s probably what that little shrimpy kid had in mind. I doubt he planned on them all dying. He was probably hoping they’d get found before then.”

“Great so now Han has a true crime buddy to yap about the unspeakable with.” Luke grumbled, looking over at you with a look of understanding and sympathy. His face morphed into concern when he met your eyes. “Jesus babe, you alright?”

“Ani,” You said quietly, unable to come to terms with the fact that they were all so casually speaking about the case that you’d been involved in. “I don’t feel so good.” 

“C’mere.” He said worriedly as he stood up and walked around behind the couch to stand in front of you, cupping your face in his hands to inspect you. “What’s wrong?”

“Can we please talk about something else?” You whispered, feeling tired and drained compared to how lively and happy you were just moments before. Ghost was right to tell you that you shouldn’t watch the news on ‘Frat Lake’. You’d thought you were over it, but the guilt just smashed into you like a mac truck.

“Feeling squeamish?” He asked, his eyes soft and caring as you nodded. “Lukey, it’s your lucky day. No more crime-talk. We’ve upset the fairer sex.” Anakin joked, trying to break the mask of seasick green that covered your pretty face. 

“Thank god.” He sighed in relief, changing the channel immediately, searching for something more friendly and less murdery. “This was supposed to be a cute double date. Not a gorefest.” He muttered under his breath.

Diary Entry: October 16

You know what? I complain in this little book a lot but honestly I just can’t help it. I’m a whiny guy sometimes and that’s okay. I can’t complain out loud. Even if I really wanted to. The other day made me feel kind of bad, after we left Luke and Han’s you were in a sluggish mood for the rest of the night. That’s okay, I get it. But I haven’t gotten all my fuckin’ done. I’ve been debating the possibility of digging Ghost back up just to get in a few extra rounds with you. I know you can handle it. You’ve done it before.  Anyway, I get it. You need some time to process that conversation but please for the love of all things holy, do it quickly before I go bonkers. You’re always right here with me and I can’t get enough of you, it's always been like that but before I was able to have you so much more. I was fuckin’ for two. 

Diary Entry: October 17

You keep texting Ghost. Why? It’s never a question. It’s never begging. You just tell him about your day. You tell him things you don’t tell me.  Do you really love that side of me more? Is this love for the best version of myself not authentic? I wish you’d stop texting. It’d save me a world full of confusion. I don't know what the hell to do. I need you to stop. I don’t know that I want you to see the two of me blended together anymore. The longer this goes on, the more worried I’ve made a big fat mistake I become.  Why do you trust him so much? It’s not like I didn’t lie to your face constantly. Knowing how badly you want Ghost to engage makes me want to bury him even deeper. I separated these two sides of myself for a reason, to give you the best and only the best. I lost that original goal somewhere along the way. 

Date: oct 18th

“Can you hand me that big spoon please?” You asked Anakin as you worked around him in the kitchenette of his apartment. 

“No.” He said flatly, even as he was handing it to you before you finished your sentence, making you snort softly. 

“Thank you!” You said in a sing-songy voice, turning back toward the stovetop to finish stirring up the pasta sauce. “Are you almost done with those?” You asked over your shoulder.

“I’ll be done when I’m done darlin’. This takes time and precision.” Anakin said seriously, holding up a finger to signal you to wait. 

“Ani…” You sighed, turning off the burner you were using and walking over behind him, pushing him to the side with your hip so you could see what he was doing. “Anakin SKywalker!” You gasped, smacking his arm.

“What?” He grinned, looking down at your red and embarrassed face. “You don’t like my cookies?” His lips in a pout.

“Just put them in the oven, we don’t even have time…” You tried to scowl but ended up with a downturned smile that gave way to surprise when you heard a knock at the front door. “See? No time to change them anyway.” You sighed.

“It’s unlocked!” Anakin shouted, scraping the left over chocolate chip cookie dough off his fingers with his teeth. 

“Oh my god, this place looks… exactly as expected.” Luke snickered as he walked into Anakin’s apartment for the very first time, seeing his eclectic design and decor choices.

“Yeah, looks cool as hell.” Anakin nodded, a big grin on his face as he funneled a few stray chocolate chips into his mouth and then dusted his hands off over the sink before washing them thoroughly. 

“Where’s this record collection you're always going on about?” Han asked, setting a big tote bag down on the center of the table. 

“In my lair.” Anakin said, happily jogging over to his bedroom door to let Han look through them. “Feel free to dig around, I don’t mind.” He said as he flopped down onto his neatly made bed.

Meanwhile Luke was looking through the random trinkets and knick-nacks littered about the living area. Occasionally scooting something around to get a better look at it, like he was grocery shopping and searching for a ripe avocado. You heard a gasp and the sound of Luke’s ‘ew gross’ noise and quickly turned around.

“What the hell is this?” He squeaked, pointing to a jar on a shelf positioned above the couch. 

“Oh, shit Luke. You scared me.” You laughed, walking over and standing up on the couch to grab the jar and bring it down for him to look at. “It’s a wet specimen.” 

“It looks like a… I don't know.” He grimaced. “Is it a kitten?”

“It’s a rat.” You laughed, turning the jar slowly to give him the 360 view.

“Why the fuck would- Anakin?!” Luke shouted and after a few seconds both Han and Anakin came out of the bedroom. “Why?” Luke squeaked out, pointing to the jar is disgust.

“Oh! You met Bertie.” He grinned, walking over and picking up the jar. “Bertie was… a gift.” He said awkwardly.

“You got a rat in a jar… as a gift?” Han scoffed in disbelief.

“No, I got the rat as a gift. The jar came after.” Anakin grinned, putting the jar back up on the shelf. “Wet specimens are a form of taxidermy. Bertie was my first and only childhood pet. I wanted to keep him.” He shrugged.

“I’m… okay.” Luke blinked, sharing a look with Han. “Remember when I said he was too good to be true? I was right.” Luke frowned in disgust at the jar.

“Oh come on, it’s no big deal, we had stuff like this in the science lab in highschool. I thought it was sweet.” You defended Anakin’s odd keepsake because it really didn’t seem all that odd. 

“Sweet?” Luke scoffed. “Babe. No.”

“Ah, leave him alone.” Han snickered. “You just picked up a stray cat and named him after your dead one. You’re weird too.”

“No. That’s different!” Luke insisted, crossing his arms and looking at you in hopes you backed him up but you were too busy giggling at the exchange to even pay attention. 

“Ah, well. Don’t come crying to me when Art the second dies and you want him in a jar.” Anakin snickered, teasingly clapping Luke on the shoulder.

“That’s serial killer shit bro.” Han snorted, following Anakin over to the oven where the cookie timer was beeping.

“Oh yeah?” Anakin grinned widely, holding up his hand in a fist to bring down a few inches above Han’s chest. “What’s the Psycho sound effect? ‘Ree-Ree-Ree’?” He snort-laughed, bringing his fist down repeatedly in a stabbing motion.

Han laughed, dramatically going along with Anakin’s jest by slumping over on the counter and reaching out a hand for Luke, making a fake strangled gurgling noise. Anakin shot a big smile over at you before he bent down to pull out the cookie tray from the oven while Han straightened back up and went over to console a very unamused Luke. 

“C’mon it was funny.” He laughed, putting an arm around him and steering him toward the kitchen table. He pulled out a chair and gently shoved Luke down into it by the shoulder. 

“How do you expect me to eat when there’s a dead rat in the room?” He asked in whiny voice.

“Anakin? Do you mind?” You prompted him with an apologetic glance. 

“Ugh, fine.” He rolled his eyes and made his way to the shelf, grabbing Bertie’s jar and taking it to his bedroom to stow it away while Han and Luke stayed for dinner. 

“Don’t you dare fuck with my cookies!” Anakin playfully shouted as he reentered the room to see you plating the cookies out of order. 

“Oh come on.” You whined as he picked you up by the waist and carried you over to the table, sitting you down next to Luke. 

“I think they put us in time out.” Luke muttered, his chin resting on his fist as he watched Han and Anakin filling plates and bowls for the four of you. 

“Yeah.” You huffed, rolling your eyes as you flipped on the tv. “Feels like it.”

“Eat.” Anakin said firmly as he sat down a bowl and plate in front of you, returning in a second with a glass of water. “Please.” He added in a sweeter tone as he kissed your cheek and sat down beside you with his own food. 

“Gimme that.” Han said, snatching the remote from your hand. He turned his seat sideways to better view the tv as he searched for the local news. 

“Wait, they’ll run it again in an hour.” Anakin said, snapping his fingers to get Han’s attention. “Remember how the ladies acted last time? You want it to be worse?” He gestured to the food on the table.

“Oh. Yeah you’re right.” Han chuckled, switching off the tv for the time being, deciding that the latest press release could wait until after dinner. 

“Ladies?” Luke repeated with his jaw hanging open. “Han really?” 

“What?” He snickered, turning his head to grin at Anakin. “He’s right. Just looking out for you hon.” He said, ruffling up Luke’s hair. 

“Oh whatever.” You muttered under your breath. “You two are awful when you’re together.” You said jokingly to Han and Anakin. 

Dinner went smoothly for the remainder of the time everyone was sat together at the table. The food you’d prepared and cooked alongside Anakin was much better than he gave himself credit for. He’d wanted to order in, insisting that Granny Lee at Thai Palace was a much better cook than either of you. (She was.) But you managed to convince him that it would be like a competition to see who could host better and that seemed to change his opinion very quickly. Even more so when you allowed him to take over making dessert all by himself. Which you sorely regretted.

“Cookies?” Anakin asked, a wicked grin spread from ear to ear as he placed the neatly lined up chocolate chip cookies down onto the center of the table. You sighed, blushing deeply as you hid your face behind your hands when Han busted out laughing and Luke started to giggle. 

“Darlin’, go ahead.” Anakin prompted, rubbing between your shoulder blades while chewing on the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “Choose one.”

The pristine white ceramic cookie platter held a baker’s dozen of chocolate chip cookies, each housing a letter made of chocolate chips.

G-O-H-O-M-E-I-M-H-O-R-N-Y

“I suppose I’ll just take the G.” You laughed, hiding your blushing cheeks with one hand while picking up your chosen cookie with the other. 

“Momma always said you gotta send your guests home with a parting gift.” Anakin snickered, tonguing his labret piercing. 

“Are you kicking us out?” Han laughed, grabbing a random cookie without a second thought. 

“Nah, not yet. When the cookies are gone, you two better get going unless you want a show.” Anakin grinned, jabbing you in the ribs with his knuckles to tickle you and make you laugh despite yourself. 

“Shut up!” You giggled, reaching up and behind yourself to gently smack his cheek. 

“Ooh, feisty.” Anakin leaned down and tipped your chin up with his middle finger, planting a kiss to your lips before he yanked on your hair and sprinted away to the couch, leaving you with a scowl as you smoothed out your hair. 

“Ready?” Han asked as he walked over and plopped himself down on the floor in front of the couch to watch the press release from the local police department. 

_______________________________________________

A tall imposing police officer stood behind the dark stained oak podium, tapping a thin stack of papers into order on the wooden surface before clearing his throat and nodding to someone off camera. A few camera flashes could be seen as he leaned forward to speak into the handful of microphones situated on the podium. 

“On October 13, 2024, at approximately 6:32 AM, the Police Department responded to a report of a possible homicide located at Revival Records within the East Side Mall." He made a short pause.

"Upon arrival, Officers met with an employee who wishes to remain anonymous, who discovered the deceased victim, a male identified by family members as Eric Codgins aged 24.” The officer waited a moment to flip to the next page of his pre-typed speech.

“Investigators were called in to begin immediate follow-up." He stated, looking up from his papers into the crowd.

"Those on scene learned that the victim had passed away while inside Revival Records during closing hours the previous night. The Coroner took possession of the deceased, and the results of the full autopsy are pending. The current information available reads: Victim is believed to have expired between 6:30PM to 8:30PM. The deceased was found to be missing several body parts which were found to be stowed away on the victim’s corpse.”

“There were several tools and other affects found at the crime scene that point to the work of at most, two individuals involved in the murder.” The officer sat down his papers, cleared his throat and stepped back to allow another officer to take over the podium.

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

“Body parts?” You asked in surprise. “I thought they found him sitting up in a chair.”

“They did.” Han nodded in agreement as you made your way to the couch and settled against Anakin’s side. 

“Well how did they… what parts are missing?” You asked in morbid curiosity.

“Baby they aren’t going to release that just yet.” Anakin said as he put his arm around you and planted a sweet kiss to the top of your head. “That’s the kind of thing they withhold for when they question someone.”

“Mmm, right yeah that makes sense.” You hummed in response.

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

“We will now allot for a brief Q and A session.” The new, younger looking officer announced as they stepped up to the podium. Looking immediately regretful as reporters and the like started shouting out questions.

“There have been many rumors circulating that this crime is occult in nature due to the brutality and mutilation to the deceased." The young officer paused with his lips pursed impatiently as the crowd began speaking over him.

"We have explored this lead in great excess and are confident that it does not fit the description of any satanic or otherwise occult crimes.” He responded, another round of loud shouting starting up the moment he stopped speaking.

“We are still working closely with the coroner’s office in determining the official cause of death as well as the murder weapon." He shifted on his feet as though uncomfortable with the information he was about to give.

"What we can share with you is that the main instrument used was some type of small, handheld double edged blade. Much like a tactical knife or pen-dagger. As well as certain types of butterfly or switchblade knives; both of these variants are illegal in our state.” The young officer responded, pausing and holding up his hand to signal for the room to remain silent as a fellow officer joined him for a moment to whisper something to him.

“I’ve just been cleared to confirm a frequently asked question on the case.” He cleared his throat as his colleague stepped back. “We are aware of the use of CCTV cameras that utilize time-stamped photos as a means of security are used throughout the mall and among several other stores and workplaces throughout the city."

"There is no immediate threat to other businesses or establishments that we are aware of, though we do urge business owners to update their surveillance technology to twenty four hour surveillance taping rather than timed photos.” The officer paused again while the crowd burst into another bout of questions.

“With that being said, our investigative team has determined the CCTV photos from the crime scene have not been altered, modified or tampered with in any way before or after the crime occurred." He continued, seemingly agitated that he was continuously being interrupted.

"The only camera on site that was tampered with was located in the service hallway behind Revival Records, via the use of spray paint.” He cleared his throat again, seemingly pausing for a deep breath before preparing to answer the next top question.

“It is not known how the perpetrators worked around the timed photos, though what we can say is that there is obvious movement of objects and the victim’s position in these stills. The only photo of a suspect we have at this time is the photo released earlier this week."

"The image is obscured in such a way that our team has been unsuccessful in enhancing it any further.” The officer stepped away from the podium as the first speaker came back into view to speak once more.

“This will conclude our Q and A session for the time being. Our hearts go out to the Codgins family who will be holding a public vigil for their son in the main square, downtown tomorrow at 5:00PM. We’d like to close this session by saying that while there are no current suspects, rest assured we are working diligently to find the persons responsible for this heinous act.”

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

“Well that was a crock of shit.” Han scoffed, shaking his head as he reached up to his right side to squeeze Luke’s knee. 

“Do you want to go?” You asked Anakin quietly, a hint of concerned understanding lacing your words.

“To the vigil?” Anakin asked, his eyebrows raised as if he were surprised you were asking. “I mean… do you think I should? I didn’t really know him that well.”

“Well I don’t know, I just thought maybe since you saw him so often you might want to?” You asked, leaning your head over on his shoulder while playing with the rings on his right hand.

“You knew him?” Luke asked in surprise.

“Kind of?” Anakin sighed, looking at the tv screen as he spoke. “I go to that record store all the damn time so I saw him quite a bit but it’s not like we were friends or anything.” 

“Was he weird or like an ass or something?” Han asked curiously.

“What? No.” Anakin snorted softly. “He was just… normal I guess. I don’t know man, he was just the guy I handed my money to, you know?” 

“Right, yeah I get that.” Han nodded, while you on the other hand just quietly listened to the conversation happening around you. 

Noticing that something in Anakin’s voice had changed slightly, as though he weren’t fully engaged in the topic anymore despite still speaking about it somewhat in depth with the other boys. You assumed that he was busy watching the rest of the news broadcast still playing on screen and only giving the conversation a third of his attention, splitting it between petting you and halfheartedly watching the tv.

“Are you okay?” You whispered, disguising the question as a kiss on the cheek, knowing he probably wouldn’t appreciate you asking it aloud.

“Oh, yeah sweetheart.” He mumbled, bringing his hand up to twist the ring on the left side of his lip. “I’m all good, just thinkin’ that’s all.” He smiled.

“Okay Ani.” You said in a tone that let him know you didn’t exactly believe him, but you were willing to let it slide for now.

“So you guys want to watch a movie or something?” Anakin asked, licking over his top row of teeth. 

“Yeah sure, but I want some drinks or something.” Han said, rubbing his palms together. 

“I’ve got beer and that’s about it.” Anakin said with a shrug. “Or actually I think my girl’s got a bottle of wine, don’t you baby?” He asked.

“Yeah but we took it to my apartment, remember?” You said, patting his hand. 

“What a shame, you live so far away.” He tsk’d, smiling crookedly. 

“Speaking of, why don’t you guys just live together already?” Luke butted in, always one to ask awkward questions without a filter.

“Uh…” Anakin looked over at you as if he were asking permission to answer for the both of you, but you just shrugged. “You know, that’s a great question.”

“I guess we kind of already do live together. We always sleep in the same bed every night, just not always in the same apartment.” You said with a slight laugh. 

“I always imagined when I found my person that we’d move into a house, not an apartment. So maybe that’s why.” Anakin said, standing up and pulling you with him. 

“Are you saying you need a realtor?” Luke asked, his voice proving his excitement at having started this conversation and bringing up this topic. “I can call my mom. She’s got a realtor lady friend.”

“Oh yeah!” You nodded, “I remember her I think, blonde, scary acrylics?”

“Yep, that’s Amy.” Luke snickered, pulling out his phone and sending a text to his mother to get the information. 

“Well I guess we’re house hunting then, hmm?” Anakin grinned, smacking your ass lightly to usher you along. 

“I suppose we are.” You giggled excitedly, allowing him to usher you away from the couch without really knowing why he had gotten you up in the first place. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, looking down over your shoulder at his hand that was firmly planted on your ass. 

“Walking with you to go get that wine.” He chuckled, glancing back to see Han and Luke chatting while Luke hung off the edge of the couch. 

“Oh, right.” You nodded, letting him lead the way across the hall and into your apartment.

“So do you think I should go?” He asked the moment the door closed behind the two of you and you were in the hallway alone.

“Go where?” You asked in confusion. “The vigil?”

“Yeah, do you think I should go?” He asked, unlocking your apartment door and pushing it open for you, tonguing his lip piercings. “I knew him so like, i should right? Would it be weird if I did?”

“Ani, you’re overthinking it.” You sighed, picking up your cat as she sidled up beside you and rubbed against your leg. “If you want to go, then go and I'll come with you.”

“But I don’t want to go.” Anakin shook his head, leaning against the counter. “But I feel like I should.”

“Will it make you feel better?” You asked, scratching Boogie’s head.

 

“Nah, baby.” He shrugged. “I don’t feel bad in the first place, there’s nothing to feel better about.”

“Really?” You asked curiously, thinking it was odd that he was making such a big deal over it but still claiming he didn’t care. “How come? I mean you seemed friendly with him, didn’t you call him by some nickname?”

“Nickname?” Anakin scoffed. “No, that was an insult. Ferdinand, you know like the bull from that kids book? I called him that because he looked like an idiot with that big ol’ honking nose ring.”

“That’s a little hypocritical for someone who has a pound of metal in their face.” You pointed out with a sly smirk. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes at you, but smiled anyway. 

“Ani, seriously though.” You said, sitting the cat down on the kitchen counter so you could walk over and smush yourself against him. “If you’re this worried about it, maybe you should go, just for your own peace of mind.”

“No, no you were right babydoll. I was overthinking it.” He shook his head, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your head.

“If you change your mind it’s okay.” You said softly, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest. 

“I know darlin’. Thank you.” He murmured, tilting your head back in one of his massive hands to tenderly kiss you, barely parting his mouth to lick across the plumpness of your bottom lip. “You always know what to say. Always.”

“Mmm.” You hummed, smiling against his mouth. 

“I love you baby.” He whispered, squeezing you a little tighter as he tucked his face into your neck, his knees bent slightly. 

“I love you too.” You said quietly, your hand coming up to play with the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Alright let’s go back over there before I end up fuckin’ you.” He sighed, sniffing as he awkwardly tried and failed to shift his half-hard dick by kicking out one leg, resigning himself to shoving his hand down his pants instead. 

“Really?” You snorted, smirking as a pink tint grew across your face.

“Yes really.” He grumbled. “Your fault. Bein’ all hot and shit all the time.”

“My bad.” You shrugged and giggled, grabbing the wine bottle from the fridge and following Anakin on the short trip back across the hall where you found Luke and Han now cutely cuddled up on the couch. 

“Back already?” Han smirked, shooting Anakin a knowing look.

“We have company man.” Anakin grinned. “I can wait til after you’re gone. I’m not a complete horn-dog.”

You snickered, swatting at his chest before turning away to pour two glasses of wine, one for yourself and one for Luke, handing it to him before offering your glass to Han, but he held up a beer bottle to show he’d already found himself a drink. So you happily climbed back over into your preferred corner of the couch with Anakin, tossing the boys a blanket before covering yourself and Anakin up with another, getting settled in for your movie night. 

Just before Anakin picked up the remote to search for something suitable to watch, the newscasters announced the arrival of newly released, or rather, leaked photos from the CCTV at the Revival Records crime scene.

—----------------------------------------------------------

“The photos on screen now show very miniscule changes between frames. Each picture is taken at thirty second intervals, these three photos are shown chronologically.” The female newscaster held up her hand to gesture to the left side of the screen where three photos were lined up, each with a slight change between them.

“Our sources state that the majority of photos are similar to these, depicting very small movements around the victim, whether it be objects moving across the counter or even the digital footprint of the computer which showed activity during the time of the attack.” She said, looking over to her co-host for them to take over. 

“With no trace of the suspect or suspects in any of these photos, it’s hard to understand how this crime was committed. According to several twitter posts currently circulating, users are theorizing the crime was committed by someone with a military background or perhaps even a poltergeist.” The co-host said, cracking a smile at the end as a few different twitter posts went up on screen to back up their statement. 

“With such a brutal crime occurring on Friday the 13th in October, there was bound to be some wild claims, especially due to the seemingly invisible perpetrator of the crime.” They said, quickly switching back to their professional approach. “Online users have officially dubbed the suspect ‘The Ghost’.”

__________________________________________

Your eyes snapped up to the screen as your vision went blurry, unsure that you’d heard correctly, your voice sounded far away as you asked Luke to confirm the newscaster’s declaration. After having it confirmed, a sweet taste leaked out into your mouth. Your fingers went to your lip slowly and as you pulled your hand away, you heard Anakin speaking to you as though muffled by water. The words were unclear but his tone was understandable enough that you nodded along with whatever he was saying and allowed him to leave your iron grip to grab a paper towel for you. 

“Open up.” He said softly, his eyebrows pinched together in worry as he dabbed at your lip.

You did as he prompted and opened your mouth, hearing him wince as he pulled your bottom lip down carefully to expose the chunk you’d bitten out of the inside of your cheek. He sighed, tossing the remote to Luke so he could take over while Anakin tended to your self imposed wound. He carefully doctored you as best he could, wadding up a paper towel to soak up the blood trickling out to mix with your saliva while he put ice in a ziploc bag and wrapped it in a hand towel to hold against your cheek.

“You okay?” He asked worriedly, tilting and turning your face gently to check for swelling as he held the ice pack. 

“Uh huh.” You nodded, your eyes not meeting his. “I’m okay.” You smiled weakly, standing up and taking out the paper towel that hindered your speech, tossing it in the trash can. 

“Are you sure?” Anakin asked, following behind you closely as you curled back up on the couch and waited for him to settle beside you.

“I’m sure.” You said flatly, refusing to make eye contact with anyone in the room. “Can you just sit down? Please?” You asked impatiently as he stood in front of you, wearing that same concerned expression that had been there since the moment you injured yourself. 

“Right, of course babydoll.” He nodded, swallowing hard as he sat down and pulled you over into his lap. “Is this better? Can I get you anything? You’re comfy?”

“Can you stop talking?” You grumbled quietly, nestling yourself against his chest as he put both arms around you and settled your lower half between his thighs, cradling you in his embrace. 

“S-sure.” He nodded, furrowing his eyebrows but not complaining or prodding any further. 

“What we can share with you is that the main instrument used was some type of small, handheld double edged blade. Much like a tactical knife or pen-dagger. As well as certain types of butterfly or switchblade knives…” 

The police may not know what weapon was used. But you do.

The first half of Texas Chainsaw Massacre was spent in complete and utter silence between you and Anakin. An event that had never occurred before and you assumed would never occur again. He was always giving commentary, especially with movies he loved. This shouldn’t have been a quiet movie. He should’ve been yapping about what was going on behind the scenes, what props were used in place of other things, which lines were improvised, what he thought would’ve worked better had he been in charge of directing the film. But he was so, so silent. 

“Where is it?” You whispered. 

“Hmm?” He hummed as though he hadn’t heard you, but you knew by the way his heart sped up that he had. 

“Where is it?” You repeated yourself, trying to keep your voice as low and monotone as possible so you wouldn't alert Luke or Han. 

“Baby, I dunno what you're asking me.” He said quietly, shaking his head and putting his hand on the back of your head to hold you down against his chest when you tried to pull away to look at him.

“Anakin, no you-” You started, but stopped before the next word could be formed.

“Don’t tell me no.” He said sternly. Whispering into your hair as he threaded his fingers through it soothingly. “Everythin’s fine.”

“No, no I need you to tell me right now wh-”

Suddenly his mouth was on yours as he cupped your face in both hands, aggressively, passionately, angrily kissing you. If you couldn't have a verbal argument, he’d give you a physical one. He was telling you to shut up. You were telling him to please say something, anything. He was begging you to stop asking, you were begging him to come clean. 

“Jesus you guys, get a room.” Luke snickered quietly and you felt Anakin’s hand leave your face, his arm moving upward quickly, presumably flipping him off before returning his hand where it belonged. 

“Oh come on I was just joking, I don’t-”

“Shut up.” You and Anakin snapped at him in unison, turning your heads simultaneously and resuming your passionate wordless discussion. 

“Ew oh my god.” Luke groaned, nudging Han. 

“Leave ‘em be.” Han snorted, pulling Luke up from the couch and gently shoving him toward the kitchen to gather their things and before they’d even shut the door to the apartment Anakin was whipping his shirt off over his head.

Tag-List:

@tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwars @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @hopesworld @lonaah @guiltycherries @syralix @demieyesore @hemmoxloser @ahano @astarionsgirl @popcosmi @purriteen

THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.

[cheollipop]

⚜ 𝙤𝙗𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣

navi | taglist

pairing: choi san x fem!reader

w.c.: 6.5k

genre: mafia au, smut, mutual pining, some fluff, tiny bit of angst, some dark themes, slightly ambiguous ending

In a city where the mere whisper of his name sent shivers of terror through its core, Choi San's barbarous reputation proved powerless to dissuade you from delving deeper, the glint in the feline eyes cast upon you exposing a sliver tenderness hidden beneath the façade of bloodlust.

⚜ warnings: mentioned death/murder (no one significant), insensitivity from all major characters to said murder, san is lowkey psychotic, and an asshole, reader is a badass bitch, gun play (kinda?), service/soft dom!san, bratty!reader, unprotected sex (👎), kinda public sex, exhibitionism, mutual masturbation, creampie, begging, praise, some cockwarming, san gets whiny, he is whipped your honour, not your typical mafia boss ehehe, nicknames (baby, darling; sannie), I believe that's it. ^^

⚜ A/N: this is entirely self-indulgent. who doesn't want a psychotic mafia boss obsessing over their very being? happy reading! ^_^

nsfw under the cut—minors dni 🔞

Another day dragging on for far too long, tedious — incompetent employees getting paid to induce headaches rather than doing their jobs, new clients unaware of who they’d gotten themselves involved with, augmenting the torturous panging against San’s skull. His eyebrow twitched, a bead of sweat hanging onto the thick hairs, another trailing down the ink decorating his slick chest. He’d thought a late-night rendezvous would silence the ringing in his head, but the cheap perfume, the bright lipstick, the obnoxious, high-pitched tone of her voice only amplified it. And yet, the woman now laid beneath him, his fingers digging into one of her tits while pornographic moans rolled off her tongue. With her head thrown back, she missed the grimace painting San’s features, but his hips were undeterred, continuing their ruthless rhythm while her ringing voice pierced through his eardrums. He just needed release, even if it were aided by a woman he had not a lick of interest in.

The door cracked open, a bleached head of hair peeking into the hotel room before his tall frame followed to stand in the doorway. San didn’t stop, simply shutting his eyes to drown out his surroundings and the pain shooting through his head.

“We’ve got trouble, boss,” the gravelly tone dragged San’s attention away from the distractions he attempted to draw up in his mind, eyes cracking open with an irked exhale.

“Important enough for you to interrupt me?” he spat, his thrusts now pointed in aggravation.

The man’s gulp masked under the continuous moans, he averted his gaze off the woman’s spread legs to explain, “a fight broke out in our Seoul location.”

San’s rhythm faltered, an unnoticeable hitch, but enough to stir up images of a familiar face, sly grin and confident walk followed by the sweet scent of vanilla and cheap tobacco. A subtle wink as you replaced the drinks his men had ordered for him with ones that would spare him the added flush, ears and chest tinted a dusty pink while he fought off the heaviness weighing down his eyelids. Sultry voice and swaying hips, the memory of fleeting touches and fluttering eyelashes sent urgent waves of heat scorching through San’s body, unwanted, vivid images of your haunting form flashing in his mind before he could stop them. But he pushed them away, prominent vein trailing down his forehead as he fought off the unrelieved headache, slapping a palm over smudged, red-tinted lips to muffle the agitating sound.

“Is that all, Mingi-ya?” he moved his gaze to the man at his side without twisting his head, watching as he straightened up at the sudden eye-contact.

“We’ve got casualties, Sir,” Mingi added, drawing a frustrated sigh out of San.

Pistoning his hips once, twice more, he pulled out, swiping his saliva-coated palm over the woman’s trembling thigh before finding his footing over the carpeted floor. He tossed the condom into some random corner, tucking himself back into his pants before snatching the luxury coat dangling from Mingi’s hand, the taller man’s eyes flitting to the side to avoid ogling at all the exposed skin. Just as they were about to take their leave, manicured fingers grasped San’s sleeve, arms drawn closer to her body to cram her breasts together in an act of seduction, bedroom eyes peering up at the tattooed man.

“Are you just going to leave me here like this?”

San didn’t hide his grimace, “it’s late, go home,” he retrieved his coat, tugging his arm away rougher than intended to make his way to the room’s exit. He paused at the doorway, turning his head slightly to address the dejected woman abandoned on the lush, silk bedsheets, “and call your husband back, he must be worried sick.”

He didn’t wait for a response, walking into the hallway to meet with two more guards, Mingi following closely behind. “Jongho, you’re coming with me,” he addressed the broader of the two, then turned to the other, “and you,” he angled his chin towards the door left ajar, “get rid of her.”

--

Walking past the swung-open door resting against the frame with broken hinges, glass shards cracking underneath heavyset boots, San took in the scattered bodies splayed out over the wooden floor. He grimaced, thousands of dollars’ worth of imported liquor pooling under shattered bottles, blending into a concoction reeking of alcohol poisoning. Bullets lodged into the polished bar reflected the orange hue in which the room basked in, stools broken and thrown into the walls and windows, splintered pieces of wood lying amongst the lifeless figures scattered over the floorboards.

“What a mess,” Mingi muttered, taking in the scene with repugnance unhidden in his expression.

“Looks exactly like something the both of you would do,” San’s retort was instant, “wasn’t it just last week, Jongho?”

His tone was void of any judgement, simply recalling his men’s afternoon endeavors, and yet, Jongho’s ears flashed red as he stuttered through a flustered response, reaffirming San’s memory of the incident. His eyes shot a glare up at the taller man as soon as San looked away, “just keep your mouth shut, Mingi-ya,” he elbowed his side, unappreciative of Mingi’s attempts at earning him another lecture about the improper use of his gun.

While the two bickered wordlessly, pinching and shoving the other’s side, San walked further into the bar, looking around for another sign of life while gnawing at his bottom lip, evidence of his night-long rendezvous trickling down his temples in salty beads of sweat.

“Where’s our staff?” his voice cut through the silence, as well as the guards’ banter, the two straightening up to address his inquiry.

“Changbin called it in, ‘said most were okay but a few got caught in the crossfire,” Mingi spoke, tone steady and hooded eyes focused on San, “they’ve all left already, I believe.”

“You believe?” Narrowing his eyes at the two men, he snarled before huffing in umbrage. “I don’t pay you to fucking believe.” It wasn’t Mingi’s doing, he knew, but he’d rather berate the two men before him than admit to the anxiety crawling up his chest, blocking his airway with a lump large enough to restrict his breathing. “Did he say anything about—” he attempted to maintain the resonance in which he spoke in, clearing his throat before proceeding, “what about—”

“—Looking for me?”

A sharp turn to his side was all it took to ease the tension stiffening his shoulders, a deep breath escaping his lungs when his eyes settled on you: hand on your hip while leaning you weight onto one leg, the corners of your glossy lips upturned into a smile that sent his heart racing.

“Y/n,” he sighed, rotating his body to face yours, arms limp at his sides while his features softened at the mere sight of you before him. Choi San with his guard down was a luxury not many could revel in.

“What’s with your face? Don’t tell me you were worried about me?” you teased, swaying your hips as you took a few steps towards his broad form, only a few inches separating your bodies where you were stood now.

Close enough to run a hand over the hair covering the side of your head, San’s lips curled into a playful smirk, “oh baby, I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You hummed pleasantly at the gentle fingers gliding over your scalp, teeth digging into your bottom lip before releasing to purr back a response, “very much so.”

The aroma of cheap cigarettes followed you, laced with hints of vanilla and caramel, the specs of ash dusting the sunken collar of your top exposing the smoke break you’d taken while chaos unfolded during your late shift.

The bullets lodged into wood glimmered in his peripheral, and his amusement dwindled as he pushed through the intoxicating haze your proximity cast upon his senses. Eyebrows furrowed, his gaze traveled over your body while firm hands ran over your sides and waist, peering over your shoulder and twisting you in front of him while he questioned, “fuck, are you hurt?”

To his surprise, you exhaled a breathy laugh, mischief glinting in your irises, “hurt?” The coyness in your tone didn’t go unnoticed, but the arm reaching behind you did, and before he could react, you had San at your mercy with the nose of your pistol dug into the skin underneath his chin. Leaning further into his space, your lips stretched further at the raised hand stopping the two men at the door from reaching for their own weapons. You tilted your head while addressing him, faux innocence painting your features, “who do you think finally killed that bastard while the men you hired were too busy shitting their pants?”

His eyes followed yours to his right, the bastard in question sprawled out near the entrance with a bullet rooted between his eyebrows. Even with the pistol firmly boring into his skin, the corners of San’s lips quirked upwards, redirecting his focus to take you in with dazed, unreadable eyes. “Oh, darling,” rough, broken knuckles grazed your jaw, his lips widening as you unconsciously leaned into the touch, “just when I thought I couldn’t want you more.”

Eyebrows shooting up — the first hint of surprise flashing over your features — a blend of amusement and curiosity seeped into your expression, “oh?”

He walked you backwards, guiding you with the pistol pressing an indent into his flesh and a hand spreading warmth over your lower back, stopping his pointed steps once the wooden edge of the bar replaced the heated touch. He towered over you, leaning you back slightly over the glossy surface with lidded eyes studying your unchanging expression, the tip of his pointer tracing a languid line down the side of your face. Despite the gruesome scene surrounding you, and the firmness in which you held onto the pistol’s handle, your features were relaxed, easy smile gracing your lips and head tilted slightly in a discrete attempt to chase the gentle gesture. Choi San was not gentle, but one thing he did was make exceptions, unconcealable tenderness breaking through a rigid exterior to bleed into his calloused touch, to glimmer within narrowed eyes, and shape the honeyed words rolling off his otherwise sharp tongue.

Choi San didn’t make exceptions, scratch that. He made an exception.

To say he had been intrigued by you would be an understatement, years passing with him making time to drop by when he rarely ever needed to, making excuses to conceal his interest in a particular bartender who knew about his low-tolerance — classified information only a select few knew of —sneaking non-alcoholic beverages his way when he got pressured into drinking after a successful deal had been made in her presence. And despite the confidence oozing off you, shoulders straight and chin lifted as you batted your eyelashes flirtatiously at various customers, San noted the tremors shaking your fingers, the wary eyes darting in each direction while the men you worked with grazed against you while passing by, and those slurring their words drunkenly calling out to you from their booths. He noticed the tension in your shoulders even as the years went by, and regulars became familiar, their orders sliding across the bar seconds after they’d found an empty seat, before a greeting could slip out their smiling lips, pleased to be served by you once again. You knew the respect this façade had brought upon you, and yet your eyes remained sharp, solid walls built up behind the sultry smiles you handed these desperate men on a gold platter. And in the restless fight to break them down, San found himself too deep into a pit he could no longer pick himself up from. A pit brimming with burning want, a yearning so fervid, it ate at him from the inside out the more he pushed it away, cheap whores and endless mistresses futile in their attempts to simmer it down.

But now, the woman he so desperately wanted to break down between rough palms was trapped between his firm chest and the bar, still holding him at gunpoint while her free arm wrapped around his shoulder. It felt like hours, the steady ticking of the vintage clock hung on the bullet-riddled wall fading the deeper San peered into your eyes, looking up at him through curled eyelashes as the longer hand continued its clicking. Playfulness glimmered in your irises the longer San dragged his silence, as though he had no intention of building on his prior statement.

“What’s this about the great Choi San wanting me?”

Your tone indicated a challenge, a ‘how will he avert the situation to his advantage this time?’ while you kept your eyes on him, fingers tangling into the short hair at his nape to watch his eyelids droop even further at the pleasant stimulation. And perhaps what he needed was a pistol threatening to blow through his brain, realizing — after a chase lasting too many years — that he was tired of the endless back and forth, tired of the eager hands brushing over your body while he sipped on some fizzy beverage you’d handed him, watching as you basked under others’ attention, his own bullheadedness and pride pushing him further away from you when all he wanted to do was break every audacious finger that dared touch your skin in his presence.

Leaning closer, until his hot breath mingled with yours in the negligible gap he’d left between your faces, his hand curved over your jaw, thumb caressing the skin of your cheek, “baby, I’d give you the whole world if you’d just ask.”

The sudden confession surprised you, eyebrows flying up and jaw slackening under his touch, but you swiftly picked yourself up, a pleased smile stretching your lips as you bumped noses with him, “Mm, I’ll hold you up to that, Mr. Choi.”

Unlike the gradually deepening kisses shared in romance novels, teeth clanged and tongues pushed against one another, San’s hand travelling down your side to grab at your thigh until your feet lifted off the wooden floorboards. He set you down on the bar, fingers digging into the washed-out denim gathered at your hips while his teeth nipped at your bottom lip. Placing the pistol somewhere to your side, your hands wandered down San’s sculpted body and over the expanse of honey skin peeking through his open coat, fingertips grazing his nipples to elicit a sudden groan from the man’s lips, parting against your own. You made a mental note of his response, the corner of your mouth lifting as you repeated the action, the hungry clash of lips dwindling into interval pecks as you toyed with San’s chest, flushed and heated under your touch.

“About time you started thinking with your cock,” wrapping your legs around his frame, you dragged his pelvis closer to feel him against your core, hard and heavy within the confines of his pants.

He rolled his hips, eyes dazed as he took you in through the negligible gap separating you, breathing the same air as the friction and lust glazed over his lidded eyes. “Who said this was my cock speaking?”

Fingers pausing over his chest, you took in the implication behind his words, his heartbeat frenzied and erratic against your palm as though it was communicating in its own language, desperate to be heard amongst the chaos that was your nonexistent relationship with Choi San — a game of cat and mouse, with the roles reversing each time you’d crossed paths. Playful banter and meaningless flirting remaining at surface level with no endpoint in sight, both players stuck in a turmoil of pridefulness and cowardice, none willing to relent.

If you’d known a cheap, rusted pistol would push San onto his knees before you, you would’ve blown a bullet through someone’s head three years ago. It wasn’t the game you wanted to win for the sake of your treasured ego, but the thrashing muscle beneath your palm, one many would assume didn’t beat, cold-heartedness and dispassionate eyes only a few could see through. And perhaps that’s what drew him to you, your willingness to look past the blood on his hands and the barbarism in which he carried out his business, your eyes sparkling in interest rather than fear as you sneaked an unknown drink into his hand, treating him like a customer you wanted to woo into becoming a regular, and not as Choi San.

The silence stretched, until San’s mutter broke through the stillness, “do you fear me?”

You blinked up at him, pondering over his question for barely a second before whispering back, “no.”

Huffing out a small laugh, he cradled your jaw in one of his palms while his thumb caressed the skin of your cheek, “that’s reckless.” Perhaps his response should have scared you, or at least sent an icy chill down your spine, but your heart only ached for the man before you as you took in his feeble, half-hearted attempt at pushing you away. Ironic, considering he’d unconsciously leaned into you while he spoke, chest brushing against yours with every breath he inhaled. “You know I can’t be trusted.”

“Not when you look at me the way you do.”

A dangerous glint sparked in the dark of his irises, burning as he silently went over your words in his mind, the few seconds’ wait stirring up butterflies in your gut as you resisted cowering under his fierce gaze. And before you could question his speechlessness, or attempt a teasing remark to lessen the rigid tension beginning to choke you, San’s face was lurching forwards to capture your lips in another kiss. Hungrier, greedier, as though he’d been starved of you — and he’d argue he was — and was finally offered a taste, teeth clashing with his nose pressed against the side of yours as he sucked out the last of the oxygen in your lungs.

Emotion flooded into San’s chest, and he allowed it to seep through into his actions, hands restless and wandering over your frame while his tongue busied itself with exploring your mouth after you’d given him access. Short, breathy moans left your lips when his fingers tucked into the denim waistband of your jeans, eliciting a desperate groan from his as he struggled to undo the button separating him from your heat. The dizzying haze San’s soft lips on yours cast upon your mind broke, his eyes closed as he chased your retreating touch when the sudden awareness of your surroundings jerked you away from him. Despite your sudden rigidness, he didn’t allow you to move too far, tucking his face into the crook of your neck to inhale the sweet scent of your perfume masking the sharpness of the three cigarettes you’d smoked earlier.

His mouth found your pulse, tongue peeking out to drag kitten licks over the delicate skin in between the gentle pecks pressed onto the column of your throat. His breath warmed the stripes of saliva he’d left behind, “what’s wrong?”

San’s mouth stretched against your skin when your button finally popped open between his fingers, his thumb and index dragging the zipper down until black lace peeked through the opening. You flinched slightly, eyes wandering to the side while a bashful flush rode up your chest.

“San we—” you cleared your throat, “what about…?”

The thumb toying with the dainty lace paused when you’d placed your hand over his, directing his gaze over his shoulder with a faint nod of your head, eyes fixed onto your denim-clad lap. The two guards stood awkwardly by the entrance — Jongho appeared to be unfazed, yet the red tinting the tips of his ears betrayed his nonchalant attitude, intermittent coughs to relieve the dryness of his throat not going unnoticed under San’s watchful gaze. Mingi, on the other hand, fidgeted uncomfortably in hopes of relieving the suffocating tightness in his ironed dress pants, shifting his weight from one leg onto the other in a futile attempt to be discrete, the heavy arousal pressing against his zipper too tricky to conceal.

Moving his attention back to you, San lifted your gaze back to his softened eyes with a finger under your chin, “don’t worry, my darling, they wouldn’t dare look at what’s mine,” the words rolled off his tongue laced with dizzying sweetness. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, you noted the averted gazes of the two men, as well as the obvious arousal bulging in the blonde’s pants. San’s finger guided your focus back onto him, “uh-uh, eyes on me.”

With a gentle grip around your wrist, he guided your hand down the toned muscle of his abdomen and over the luxury, leather belt, his hand cupping the back of yours to press it into the twitching lust tenting his pants. Your eyelashes fluttered at the rush of arousal drenching your panties, wrapping your fingers around the clothed girth to elicit a shaky exhale from the parted, plush lips mere centimeters away from yours, leaning forward to close the gap between them. No longer minding the two spectators, your low moan vibrated over San’s mouth, tongue running over his front teeth while you palmed over his hardness, his chest shuddering against yours at the friction. With an arm around your waist, San lifted your hips just enough to tug the bothersome denim off you, leaving you to kick it off while he revelled in the gentle friction you provided him.

He rolled his hips into your touch, one hand still covering yours at his crotch while the other hurriedly pulled your shirt up to your chest, followed by your bra to watch your tits spill out under the band. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You hummed, watching as he’d begun leaning down towards your exposed chest before your hand shot up from his pants to grab his jaw, watching as he confusedly looked up at you, cheeks smushed between your fingers and eyes glazed over with want.

“Mm, I bet you’d like that,” tilting your head to the side, a playful smile curving your lips as you watched him process the mocking tone he’d previously used on you — your refusal to comply bewildered him, but most of all, it sent shocks of burning arousal straight to his core.

The arm around your waist dragged you closer to the edge of the bar, his other hand raking through the hair at the side of your head, desperation leaking into his tone as he sucked in a sharp breath, “god, you’re fucking perfect.”

His pouted lips found yours in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, bodies colliding as his urgency and yearning revealed themselves in hungry nips and bites. You carded your fingers through the dark strands, wrapping your legs around his hips once he’d slotted himself between your thighs, heavy bulge pressed and rutting against your overwhelming heat.

Your own impatience clawed at your cracking composure, a man you’d watched from afar, unobtainable to all but those he’d handpicked himself, only to toss away the morning after. And for as long as you’d remembered, you’d hoped he’d never pick you, afraid of the lingering feelings he’d leave behind as his broad frame walked out the room, his scent permeating the sheets still covering your sweaty figure, fingers entangled into the cotton in a hasty attempt at preserving the memory of  a man you’d wanted for years, but who only wanted you for a night.

Drawing back to take him in, the dystopian scenario your mind had drew up faded into dust as said man chased your lips, feline eyes shut, eyebrows drawn in as he registered the unreturning loss of your touch. While Choi San’s warmth may very well still be torn away from you, the morning sun shining over the world while leaving you alone in the chilling shade, you wondered if the memory of the burning body heat radiating off his soft skin would accompany you during those frosty, weary days. Barely weighing your options, you pressed yourself to the man before you, dragging him impossibly closer with the legs around his waist.

If the dawn of a new day were to illuminate the shards of your shattered heart, at least the moon would have borne witness to your undoing within Choi San’s fervid embrace.

“How about you be good and fuck me already?”

Digging his teeth into his bottom lip, San allowed you to guide his hands past the lacey waistband until your sweet arousal coated his fingertips, running them through your folds to feel you throbbing against him. His response was delayed, breathy as he struggled to focus with his hand in your panties, “be patient.”

Unlike any other statement that had left his plush lips, San’s tone was lacking, the noted detail stretching the corners of your mouth. “I can feel you shaking, Sir.”

The accusation earned you a firm glare, his gaze shifting from the indents of his knuckles against the lace to the cockiness painting your features. Was it nerves, or the anticipation? You wondered if Choi San ever felt any of those emotion, let alone allowed them to translate into his body language. And yet the unsubtle trembling continued, even as the deep baritone sounded in the negligible space separating you.

“Call me by my name.”

It seemed as though your choice of nickname was more alerting to him than the implication associated with his jitters. You wondered if this was his way of showing vulnerability, and the thought of another noticing his quivering irked you, “don’t wanna.”

To your surprise, San’s eyes softened, taking your jaw into his free hand and running his thumb beneath your bottom lip, “please, baby.” He circled his middle finger around your fluttering hole before breaching it, sinking all the way inside while his eyes studied your features. Letting out a breath at the stretch, your lips parted further when San’s thumb ran along the cracking skin, tongue peeking out to run over his nailbed. The sternness in his voice vanished and subtle whines mixed into his tone, “please, ‘wanna hear you saying my name.”

He slid another finger alongside the first, curving and running them over your walls until he grazed the spongy surface he’d been seeking, noting the flutter of your eyelashes, thighs tensing around his waist before spreading to allow him further access.

“C’mon,” he urged, fingertips digging into your g-spot as he shallowly thrusted them into your cunt, studying your face for encouragement as your eyebrows drew in and soft exhales quickened in pace. His thumb pressed into your bottom lip, and he leaned forward to leave an upwards trail of wet kisses over the slope of your jaw, mumbling against the flushed skin, “say my name, baby, let me hear it.”

You were putty in San’s arms, pleasure building in your gut as he fucked his fingers into your pussy, his hand trapped behind the lace and grinding his palm into your clit, the single syllable rolling off your tongue before you could help it, an airy repetition of his name, “San, San, San—” so sweet, melodic, bucking his hips into nothing at the sound, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and groaning into your skin, deep and gravelly, before sinking his teeth into the flesh.

A high-pitched whimper followed the echoes of his name, your walls clamping up around him as a sudden orgasm rushed through you, thighs shaking and back arching, head thrown backwards as he guided you back down with slow glides against your walls and tender kisses over the bitemark he’d left as a keepsake. Just as the tension in your muscles dwindled, San’s hand retreated out of your panties, hurriedly tugging the fabric down your legs and ignoring the audible tearing at the frantic action. He interrupted the complaint at the tip of your tongue with a look, berserk and brimming with searing lust,

“I need to fuck you right now,” his breathing was heavy, rapid, fingers digging into the flesh of your hip while his free hand rid him of his belt, tossing the leather to the side before undoing his pants and leaving them to fall to his ankles. “Can I, baby? I’ll make you feel so good.”

“Yeah,” you breathed out in a whine, wrapping your fingers around his biceps after he’d shrugged off his coat, revealing the wide expanse of soft, tan skin and bulging muscle, “want that, want you.”

San’s boxers gathered around his mid-thighs before his impatience became too much to handle, wrapping his arms around you to drag your hips closer before the burning heat of your core met his leaking cock. You breathed the same air, panting into the gap separating you as San ran his length through the slick coating your folds, once, twice, before his eagerness could no longer be held down. A visible shudder shook his toned figure as he breached your clenching hole, his cock stretching you open while you held onto his shoulders for stability, head angled downwards to watch your cunt swallow his cock whole.

“Fuck—darling, you gotta relax for me,” he bumped his forehead with yours, pressing tender kisses to your lips while you adjusted to his girth, unclenching your muscles and allowing the fullness to take over your senses. “Good girl,” he squeezed the back of your neck soothingly, planting a few pecks onto your cheekbone and temple.

He moved in shallow thrusts, craving the friction but refusing to part from the magnetic warmth of your cunt, slick squelching every time he pushed in and soft grunts leaving his lips as he cast his gaze onto your contorting face. He could tell you were still trying to hold your ground, but the pleasure soaring through your body at the languid grazes of his cockhead over your clenching walls dismantled the front you’d built up. And Choi San proved relentless in his pursuit, wanting nothing but to have you falling apart in his arms.

He snapped his hips without warning, a choked moan echoing in the back of your throat, “You’re mine, aren’t you?” he was so close, so deep, building up to a rhythm that rendered you momentarily speechless. “My own pretty girl to ruin.”

You made no effort in concealing your voice, intermittent ah’s making San’s insides flutter as he pounded into you, arms holding you firmly against his body as he seeked the tight squeeze of your cunt.

“You fucking wish,” lidded eyes not moving off him, you rolled your hips in sync with his, meeting his thrusts with just as much urgency, the heavy presence of his cock continuously fucking into you satisfying a years-long hunger you’d endured in silence.

“You can pretend all you want, but I can see the fucking mess you’re making of yourself,” the hand on your nape moved to the back of your head, pushing it down to vaunt his slick-coated cock peeking out of your pussy before stuffing it back inside, toned pelvis and snail trail glistening with your arousal as he grinded against your clit every time he sheathed himself within you. Leaning forward once again, San’s lips pressed against your cheekbone, moving over the skin as he rephrased his previous question into a sure statement, “you’re mine.”

And this time, you didn’t protest, didn’t tease, but simply nodded your head and breathed out a defeated, “yeah, ‘m all yours.”

San’s cock twitched, his hand dropping to your thigh to dig his fingers into the flesh, the other still wrapped possessively around you while he pistoned his hips into your sopping cunt, sweat beading over his temples while your foreheads remained flush, hot air circulating between your mouths as you pressed them against each other in breathless kisses, swallowing each other’s moans as ecstasy soared through your bodies.

“San—nngh fuck—" the more your back arched you away from him, the closer San drew you in, as though he couldn’t function without every patch of your skin glued to his own; until your nipples pressed together and his scent was all-consuming.

San prided himself in his stamina, but with your walls wrapped around him, his cock pulsed violently and all he could think about was fucking you full. “Gonna give you all I have,” he grunted, rhythm faltering and growing sloppy as the build of his orgasm blinded him, “you’ll take it all, won’t you?”

It seemed as though all you could do was nod, the sound of your synced breaths and skin-on-skin reverberating in the air surrounding your intertwined frame. All you could think about was San, so full of San, his scent, his warmth, his secure hold. San, San, San. The man noticed the sudden trance consuming you, moving his head back to hold your face in his palm, waiting until your eyes focused back on him to speak again,

“There you are,” it was barely a whisper, but you released a deep breath you’d unintentionally been holding, muscles relaxing despite the hurried pace of his hips pounding into you, “’m gonna fill you up, yeah?” Though you were on the brink of delirium, wanting nothing more but San’s thick cum deep within you, you remained quiet, watching as desperation seeped into his expression. “Please, baby—fuck—please let me, let me make a mess of you.”

You ran your fingers through his damp locks, scratching at his scalp to watch the feline eyes droop further. “Begging looks good on you,” you giggled, noting his slowed pace as he staved off his orgasm, a creamy ring of white forming around his cock.

An exasperated whine escaped his throat, his hips betraying him as they chased a pleasure he’d been delaying, “you’ll look so pretty full of my cum, you’ll take it so well.”

The furrow of his eyebrows, pretty pink tinting his skin and fingers trembling where he replaced them at your nape, you couldn’t find it in you to refuse him anymore, the familiar tingle of your impending orgasm breaching your brittle mask of nonchalance.

“Give it to me, Sannie, I’ll take it all.”

That was all San needed, the nickname blurring his vision as he stuffed his length into your cunt, pelvis pressed against your clit as he painted your walls with sticky ribbons of pearly white, his cock throbbing while he fed his load into your womb. You watched his eyes flutter shut and mouth form a perfect ‘o’ as he used your warm hole to milk himself of every last drop, graced with the opportunity to watch him unravel for only a few moments before he dragged you into his body, tucking your head into his neck while he grinded his twitching cock into your cum-soaked pussy. It was so much, so warm as he flooded your insides with his seed, a thin stream dribbling out of your stretched entrance while he shot a few more pathetic spurts.

You tangled your fingers into the short locks at his nape, reveling in the untamed, successive moans San let out into your ear, the mix of his deep baritone and high-pitched whimpers leading your pussy to clench around him. And despite the building overstimulation, he started up a steady rhythm once again, pulling out before slamming back inside. You felt the thick cum flooding out of you, only to be fucked back into your needy cunt. An orgasm you’d thought had dwindled away built right back up as San’s cockhead pounded relentlessly into your g-spot, thighs clamping around his hips as they guided you towards the edge.

You clung to his shoulders, hesitantly pushing your head back when he’d gripped the hair at your nape, shaky breath blowing against your skin as he watched you melt in his arms, eyes squeezed shut, “gonna come for me?”

“mhmm,” your cunt pulsed sporadically as he pumped it full of his sensitive cock, and he leaned down to pepper kisses over your eyelids.

“Don’t close your eyes, baby. Look at me,” he muttered over the delicate skin, his smile dripping with sweetness once you’d done as he asked, faltering slightly when your walls finally clamped up around him, “that’s it—fuck—that’s a good girl.”

Vivid flashes of colour painted your vision, muscles spasming in San’s hold as you finally tumbled over the edge. He coaxed you through it with languid glides over your trembling walls, honeyed voice mumbling praise into your ear while ecstasy rocketed through your body, going completely silent through the first wave before a broken moan ripped through your chest. Your cunt squelched with the added slick, a mixture of your release and San’s simultaneously being fucked into and out of the used hole, and San wanted nothing but to spread you open and swallow your combined taste until you squirmed and thrashed under him, pulling at his hair and squeezing his head between your thighs. But exhaustion was apparent in your eyes, body going limp in his arms as you finally came down, spasming and whimpering while weakly pushing at his bicep.

San didn’t pull out, but simply slid his whole length back inside you and stilled, waiting until your features relaxed before leaning in for a kiss — slow, deep, breaking apart to plant a succession of feathery pecks over your pouted lips.

As he tucked you closer once again, nuzzling your nose into his pulse point, you wondered if this was how Choi San treated all his women, lulling them into a false sense of security before ripping their heart out of their chest, leaving them with the bitter memory of what could have been and the retreating shadow of his broad frame. But one peek over his shoulder, you took in the wordless conversation shared between the two guards, bewilderment and questioning glinting in their widened eyes, frantic hands flailing at their sides in an attempt to dissect the situation. The peculiar scene eased your concerns, and the steady heartbeat of the man you’d longed to hold you for so long laced the air around you with a comforting aroma.

Twisting his head, San studied your dazed expression for a few moments before you’d met his eyes, earning you an easy smile and dimpled cheeks that sent your heartrate on a frenzy, and with your chests flush, San’s lips only smiled further at the realization. The man had warned you about the recklessness of trusting him, and while you knew it to be as such, you were content to live in this warm aura of comfort he’d provided you so long as you could bare witness to this side of vulnerability unknown to many. And even if this moment were to be fleeting, leaving you to grieve the short-live tenderness instead of revel within it, San’s overwhelming warmth and the fervency of his embrace would eternally linger, casting a comforting glow on any desolate, bitter days to come.

reblogs/feedback are greatly appreciated!! ^^ apply for my tag list here (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

[loafysainz]

the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction & remake

chap 1, chap 2, chap 3, chap 4, chap 5, chap, 6, chap 7

PART 6 MEETING MOM

As the summer camp buses lined up, Mr. Hamilton stood on the main lawn, a megaphone in hand, his voice cutting through the chatter of children reluctant to leave.

“Okay, everyone, I hope you packed everything! Don’t forget anything, and we’ll see you next summer!” he called, hugging children who clung to him in farewell.

Amidst the emotional goodbyes, a pair of boys stood under the shade of an old oak tree, whispering fervently.

“They’re staring at us too much, Matheo. Do you think they know?” Mattia adjusted the collar of his shirt nervously, shifting from foot to foot.

Matheo, ever the confident one, rolled his eyes. “No way. Stop being so weird, or they’ll suspect something. Do you remember the plan?”

Mattia hesitated before nodding. “Yes, but… maybe repeat it? Just in case?”

Matheo sighed, exasperated. “You’re hopeless. Fine. I’ll go home to Mom, and you’ll go to Dad. We’ll ask them why they split and figure out how to fix it. Got it?”

Mattia nodded fervently, clutching his suitcase. “Got it. This is for the greater good.”

“Mattia Y/LN! Your car is ready!” Mr. Hamilton’s voice boomed, making both boys jump.

Mattia grinned and gave Matheo a quick hug. “Good luck with Mom. And remember, don’t mess this up!”

Matheo smiled nervously, his hands trembling slightly as he adjusted his suitcase. “You too. Tell Dad… I said hi, okay?”

“I will.” Mattia smirked, ruffling his brother’s hair and let him jogging off toward the car.

****

London was breathtaking. Matheo pressed his nose against the car window, taking in the winding streets, the azure sky, and the amazing architecture of London. His heart raced as they approached the house—a beautiful, modest villa with ivy climbing the walls.

When the car stopped, he hesitated for a moment before stepping out. A wave of unfamiliar scents hit him—fresh sea air, blooming flowers, and something else... coffee? He clutched his suitcase and stepped inside, greeted by the cozy interior and a handmade sign that read, "Welcome Home, Mattia."

He smiled despite himself. As he wandered further, the smell of coffee grew stronger. Following it, he found a man sitting in an armchair, newspaper in hand.

“Grandpa?” Matheo ventured.

The man lowered the paper, revealing sharp blue eyes and a graying mustache. “Mattia! Is that you? My favorite little gentleman?”

Matheo grinned. “It’s me, Grandpa.”

Grandpa stood, pulling him into a tight hug. “My god, you’ve grown! But what’s this?” He leaned back, eyeing Matheo curiously. “Are you smelling me?”

Matheo nodded earnestly, "I’m memorizing it.” His grandpa chuckle a little and say "You’re as peculiar as ever.”

Before Matheo could reply, a soft voice floated down the staircase. “Mattia? My baby?”

Matheo froze. His heart thudded as he turned toward the sound. There she was Y/N—his mother, descending the stairs, her arms outstretched.

“Mom!” Matheo cried, running to her. She swept him into a hug, kissing the top of his head as he buried his face in her shoulder.

"I can't believe it's you," Matheo tried to say through his sobs.

"And I can't believe it's you, baby. Tell me, who was the person who dared to cut your beautiful hair?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she ruffling her son soft hair.

"He was a friend from camp, is it bad?"

"No, of course not. It suits you very well"

Then Y/N noticed Matheo's hair color. "What? A dyed hair too?"

Matheo tried not to get nervous so he grimaced

"Does it bother you?"

"As long as you don't turn into a bad kid, it's all good. Is there another surprise you have to tell me, baby? A piercing? A tattoo?"

Matheo cried more at his mother's sincere concern, he needed this, he had longed for it so much. Y/N worriedly watched as his son shed more tears.

"What happen baby? are you feeling hurt or something?"

"No, it's not that. It's just that I missed you too much."

"I missed you so much too. It felt like an eternity the time you weren't by my side."

She cupped his face, her smile softening. “Welcome home, my little man. You’re finally here.”

Matheo clung to her again, his heart swelling with a mix of relief and joy. For the first time in months, he felt like he was exactly where he belonged.

****

His mother pulled back, her hands on his shoulders, and smiled warmly. "Come now, tell me everything! Did you like everyone at camp? Was it fun?"

Before Matheo could answer, Martin, the ever-dutiful butler, appeared at the door with a small, unexpected guest.

"Excuse me, madam," Martin said, holding up a small, scruffy real madrid tightly. "It seems we have a plush in the suitcase."

Matheo's eyes widened in panic. Madi?! His real madrid plushie, he snatched the plushie from Martin's hands. "Oh! Uh, that belongs to my... friend," he stammered. "The one I told you about from camp. I have no idea how it got into the suitcase."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, amused. "Well, since it’s not ours, shall we dispose of it?"

"No!" Matheo blurted, clutching the stuffed real madrid tightly. He cleared his throat, trying to sound casual. "I mean, no. I’ll mail it to him. He loves this thing a lot. Like, he can’t live without it. Especially not in, say, a foreign country."

"Very well," his mom said with a smile, clearly not buying his story but letting it slide. "Martin, that’ll be all. Thank you."

As Martin left, Matheo exhaled, holding Madi close.

[silkscream]

bullfight of love

ੈ✩ choso x reader

ੈ✩ tags: flirting, masturbation, porn watching, vaginal sex, riding, soft sub!choso, 2000s au, coworkers, workplace relationship, film bro stuff

ੈ✩ wc: 4.7k

ੈ✩ a/n: i wanted to write choso being a weirdofreak pervert boy that's all. this is part of my fics for gaza <3 there will be a part two for this. do not ask me about a part two because it's already being made

Maki could kill you for being late again. Five missed texts, the final exaggerated with periods and exclamation points – and she never used proper spelling, let alone punctuation. It wasn't serious the way she made it out to be. 

Toji never cared about your track record. The bastard was never in the shop anyway, probably high off his ass in whatever shed of a place he lived in. Maki already hated her cousin enough for the rest of the crew, running that stupid video store like it was a real family business. It was a summer job to you and nothing else.

She sighs when she sees you walk through the door, handing you your name tag without a word before fucking off to the storage room to look at the new shipments.

“Don’t give me the silent treatment!” you yell after her. In response, you only get a middle finger, chipped black nail polish with half a skeleton decal hanging on.

It’s always slow on Mondays. Considering the new cinema that opened across the street, it's slow every day. You should’ve taken a job there, scooping buckets of buttered popcorn instead of telling off porn-stached men who continually mistook the shop as the old adult video store. 

You mindlessly watch Reservoir Dogs on the CRTV, shaken by the sudden flood of middle school students paving their way to the used video game section. Fumbling with the remote, you meet a hard-faced Maki once again. 

“You can’t put on Tarantino, dude. Kids are in here.”

“It was already on,” you shrug. 

Maki rolls her eyes and points to a small stack by the register – some John Hughes VHS tapes. Sixteen Candles. The Breakfast Club. Most shit that both of you hated.

“Gotcha.”

“Can you deal with the new kid, today? Toji didn’t scan all the new shit in like he was supposed to last week.”

“New kid?”

“Uh, yeah. Goth-ish. Like he got spit out of a Hot Topic or something,” she snorts. “No hazing.”

“I should be saying that to you.”

She scoffs at you before rushing back. You’d had a crush on her when you started working there, back when she still had an eyebrow piercing before she let it get infected. She had that Silent Hill look about her for lack of better words. Resting bitch face with a raspy pout. 

Your head swims a little, pounding from dehydration. The morning joint didn’t help, either, nor did the fact that you had to train a newbie today. 

It’s quiet after the kids leave, snatching up some forbidden R-rated movie that’ll traumatize them during a basement sleepover. You nearly doze off once the clock hits three, but loud footsteps bring you back to life. 

A boy that couldn’t be much older than you stares into you, narrowed eyes boring into your soul. You see the dark birthmark across his nose first, as if someone had slashed him with a blade in one straight swoop. He smells like cigarettes and his eyes are decorated with some reddish eyeshadow. Either that or he had the complexion of a sickly Victorian child. 

“Hey,” you deadpan. “Can I help you?”

“I’m the new hire,” he says. His voice is low. He reminds you of the goths that would hit on you at high school parties. He's prettier, though. 

You give him a once-over quickly – he’s taller than you expect, for some reason, and you notice the blooming swirls of abstract tattoos peeking from beneath his sleeves.

“You don’t sound so sure about that,” you smirk. 

He rolls his eyes and introduces himself. Choso. You repeat his name, tasting it on your tongue. He has half a mind to shake your hand but pulls away awkwardly. You take note of the silver rings adorning his fingers.

You tilt your head. “I like your, uh, space buns…”

“Uh, thanks,” he narrows his eyes.

“Okay, so… have you ever used a cash register?”

“Yes.”

“Great. That’s basically half the job.”

You show him the ropes – how to make sales and deal with teens. Cash drops and tracking inventory. You ask him what attracted him to the idea of working at a run-down video store and he says he likes movies and easy money. His brother liked the place, too. 

“You got the Human Earthworm series, boss?” he drones, bored.

“Yeah, think so. You like romance-horror or just terrible practical effects?”

He snorts. “My little brother likes it. Wants to have a marathon with me.”

“Cute.”

Hours pass and he’s gotten the hang of it. If anything, there are more customers than usual today, because you suppose that Choso is conspicuous in appearance and the teenage girls that hang around at the food court need something new to play with. 

It stirs something uneasy in your gut, the waft of saccharine perfume in the air. Girls with tongue piercings, lollipops staining their lips as they bend over the counter to talk to Choso. Ripe girls.

They probably thought he could buy them alcohol, take them for a joyride. He’d only offer them an aloof, blank stare in return. It makes you almost giddy. By the time night comes around, you tell them to fuck off like flies.

“Closing time.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Choso mock-salutes, an amused smirk on his lips. Half-lidded eyes like a cat, maybe a stoner, though he didn’t smell like it. You saw him on his break anyway, sipping down an Asahi Super Dry in the back as if you weren’t looking.

He already knew his place, knew that you wouldn’t rat him out. It was the way something flickered in his eyes when you caught him. A taunt, a quiet challenge. 

You watch him count cash. Chipped black fingernails looked odd on his veiny hands like they were painted in a rush by a child. You notice scrawled pen on his pale skin. Smudged phone numbers.

“Getting hit on already?”

He glances at you and shrugs, hiding a smile. “Half were just from bored teenagers. Other half bored single mothers.”

“Any takers?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

You narrow your eyes. 

“Ha. Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not,” you snort. “As long as we get customers I guess.”

“Oof. You’re cold. You don’t care how I get these people to buy these movies as long as they buy ‘em, huh?”

“You’re not whoring yourself out by being a cashier. Relax.”

He shrugs on his jacket. Crumpled leather, the kind that held the smell of smoke over generations. It made him look like Takuya Kimura in that way, maybe if his hair was down.

He grins when he finds you staring.

“We done for the night, then, boss?”

You roll your eyes at the nickname. “Uh-huh. Night, newbie.”

He smiles sardonically, looking out and noticing the rain. He curses inwardly, knowing that skating home would be a bitch, and the next bus to his side of town wasn’t for another half hour. He clears his throat.

“Leaving already?”

“Yeah. What, don’t have a ride home, kiddo?”

“Fuck off. I’m not a damn kid. I’m just not someone with a car,” Choso mutters dryly. “I work at a movie rental place for a living. I take the bus everywhere.”

“Sucks to suck then,” you smirk, saluting him goodbye. You throw him the keys. “I trust you to lock up then, yeah? See ya.”

He lets out a frustrated scoff but doesn’t bother to convince you, opting to watch you go. Once you’re out of reach, he sighs and turns, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking around the dim store. 

Yuuji was probably out with that sea urchin–haired punk again. He had to remind himself to save up for a car instead of constantly having to share their parents’ beat-up Toyota.

He could take advantage of the shitty TV in the office, maybe. Watch a stupid re-run while he waits, because he sure as hell isn’t going to wait out in the rain. He walks in and settles on the black leather couch straight out of an amateur porno. He snorts and looks through a fat stack of DVDs in the corner. 

His mouth twists when he picks up something with a racy title. His eyes widen when he realizes it’s an adult film.

“Holy shit,” he mutters, scoffing. He lets out a low whistle, glancing around the office as if someone’s out there, ready to jump him. It’s eerily quiet. He can’t even hear the pitter-patter of rain from in here.

He skims the back cover. It looks crude, but Choso has never really been one to turn down something raunchy. He liked stupid movies, gory ones, art films with weird unsimulated sex. He’d gotten off to In the Realm of the Senses when he was thirteen. Skimming through something this cheap shouldn’t hurt. It wouldn’t arouse him — it would be as entertaining and silly as watching a sitcom for him.

He inserts the disc into the DVD player and waits for it to load. There are no cameras in the office, he notices. Figures. The way you talked about the owner made it seem like the place was barely being held together if not for you.

And then, he thinks of you. He immediately thought you were pretty, not that he’d ever let you know that. Plainer than his usual type, but something was alluring about the curve of your mouth, the way you spoke. He liked that you didn’t take shit most of all. It was probably the hottest thing about you.

He knew better than to fuck around with a coworker, however. It never ended well and resulted in petty drama. He was too old for that shit, wasn’t in high school anymore — he was a man.

When the intro to the film finally loads, a woman in a skimpy, barely-there dress appears on the screen. It’s something vintage, for sure, given the grain. She’s in a love hotel. 

Choso fast-forwards through blurs of messy kissing, colored lights illuminating a heart-shaped tub. He pauses on a frame of the girl riding, her mouth wide open in ecstasy. He presses play.

After about ten minutes, he finds himself in a trance watching with rapt attention at the way the actress moves. His cock twitches when he realizes that she looks a little too much like you. 

She moans particularly loudly and his mouth parts. Something snaps inside of him. 

He has to pause it again. Jesus.

Choso feels like a pervert. No, he’s a man with urges, needs. It’s a pure coincidence that the actress in the porno looks like you of all people. It’s not like he sought her out himself. A movie like this shouldn’t even be in here.

He grits his teeth, hands clenching around the couch leather until his knuckles are white. He takes a breath before pressing play again and his eyes widen when the girl gets even louder.

Ah, fuck it.

He mutters under his breath, shifting on the couch. Glances at the blowjob lips on the screen, soft and plush. He thinks of you and swallows. He bites his cheek, conflicted.

Maybe he shouldn’t.

Then again, no one has to know.

He lets out a shaky exhale, trying to resist the pressure building inside him. It feels like trying to contain a geyser with a cup, and he hasn’t even touched himself yet. 

After contemplating for a beat, he sighs and unbuttons the fly of his jeans, using his other hand to press play again. A gasp escapes his lips as he watches the girl on the screen. The curve of her back, the bounce of her tits. She looks soft. He wonders if you’d be as —

No. No. He’s not doing that.

He spits in his hand and strokes himself, his breathing starting to come out in short, uneven pants. There’s a rush of heat in his gut as he watches. His head tilts back slightly, eyes roaming the ceiling before closing them as he attempts to calm himself down. It’s no use.

His breath hitches, eyes glued to the screen. He’s memorized by the slick flowing out of her. Fuck, he hasn’t gotten laid in a long time. It’s killing him.

It’d be okay if he pretended it was you. It’s not like you would find out. He could imagine fucking your face the way the guy was doing right now in the video, making the bitch gag and moan. Whimpering at being called a good girl. 

“Oh, god–” he mutters, his voice a strangled gasp. She really did look like you. Disturbingly so. When he’s done, he’ll have to wash his hands for five minutes straight from the shame. 

He pants, his grip on himself firm as he squeezes his shaft. Precum smears over his tip and he groans at the sound of the woman’s whimpers getting louder and louder. It makes his lungs seize. He’s getting close.

He doesn’t even register the jingling of the doorknob.

Choso’s head jerks up, his eyes widening in shock as his head turns to see you in the doorway blinking at him. 

“Oh.”

His throat’s dry. What a cruel fucking joke from the universe. There’s no coming back from this. Not when the video’s still going and he’s still half dressed, hand on his fly in mortification.

You tilt your head, smirking. “Nice cock.”

Choso’s at a loss for words, staring at you with embarrassment and utter daze. What the fuck?

“I, uh…” he chokes out, his voice rough and more high-pitched than usual. Face burning. 

He’s going to get fired. No – he has to quit before you even get another word in, save the little dignity he has, maybe convince Yuuji to move to another shitty town with him so he never has to see you again —

“Forgot my wallet,” you say, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

You walk into the room, peering at him. Your eyes fall on the TV, which is still going. The moans feel cheap and tacky now that he’s back in reality. 

Choso scrambles to press the stop button on the remote, his other hand moving to put a pillow on top of his leaking dick. His eyes flicker wildly between your face and the screen.

“You find that in here?”

“Uh… yeah… I, um—”

You snort. “Forgot to tell you that this used to be an adult video store.”

“That explains the selection,” he mutters sheepishly. 

You eye him carefully. He blushes. “Didn’t finish?” you taunt.

He feels too fucking humiliated to say anything, so he mutely nods instead. He fumbles with the zipper of his jeans underneath the pillow.

“Need some help?”

He gapes at you for a moment before looking away. You look amused as you scan his face. Was he hearing you correctly? Was he dreaming?

“Are you— are you offering?” he gasps out, dumbfounded. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done something like that in here.”

Choso’s jaw drops. 

He stares at you for a moment at a loss for words. Curiosity begins to win out over embarrassment.

“With… who?”

“None of your business,” you chuckle.

He doesn’t like that answer. His jaw clenches, knowing that it’s stupid that it hurts his ego a bit for no reason at all. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t press the issue as his gears turn back to your previous offer.

“Then you… uh… want to…? With me?”

“You want to, right?”

He swallows nervously, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks at your body shamelessly for a bit. He’s still so fucking hard. Finally, he nods shyly.

“Okay. Take your clothes off, then.”

For a moment, he wants to protest. This is the last thing he expects from you. Maybe it was a blackmail situation — if he doesn’t let you fuck him, would you fire him? 

He realizes that he doesn’t care either way if he gets to fuck you.

He pushes his jeans down with his boxer briefs, shoves the pillow in his lap away with a blush. Slowly, he strips off his t-shirt, leaving him completely exposed. He can feel your gaze on him, raking his chest and arms, the tattoos on his skin. He looks up at you again almost desperately. 

“I meant it,” you drawl. “You do have a nice cock.”

“Th-thanks…” he croaks. 

“Why so nervous?” you tease. “You were flirting with me all day.”

“Yeah, but–” he mutters, huffing defensively. “I didn’t think you’d actually—”

“Wanna fuck you?” you finish for him.

You say it so bluntly that it catches him off guard. He hadn’t really given it too much thought. You were somewhat receptive to his advances if he could call it that. It was mostly him being himself. His sarcasm was meant to be flirting, but none of it was that serious. He found you hot and interesting. He liked that you could keep up with him. 

When he started touching himself with you in mind, everything was thrown out the window. He wanted you, and would probably dream about you when he got home, but the guilt and shame of doing something so depraved in his place of work made him embarrassed. He wouldn’t have been able to face you on his next shift, and then you decided to barge in and ruin everything. 

And now, you’re offering yourself to him on a silver platter. It was absurd.

He narrows his eyes. “What’s in it for you?”

“I think you’re hot. Isn’t that enough?” 

“You… you actually wanna… uh–”

“Yeah, Choso,” you roll your eyes. “I wanna fuck you.”

He shifts on the couch, eyes roaming hungrily over your body as his breaths grow labored. He swallows a lump in his throat.

“Then… do it,” he mumbles.

You grin, moving to straddle his lap. His hands flex and he has to remember to not appear so eager. This is just a casual hookup with a coworker. One born out of bizarre circumstances, sure, but he needs to play it cool. He grips the edge of the couch.

“Don’t wanna touch me?”

He feels even more meek, if that was possible. He hesitates, throat bobbing as he swallows. He’d had girls in his lap before. Bouncing them on his cock until they cried. For some reason, he feels like the submissive one here just because you’re on top of him. 

“Uh,” he stammers. His voice is quiet, nervous. You think it’s cute. “I didn’t know if I was, uh, allowed to—”

“Go ahead.”

He holds back from kissing you. Instead, he smoothes his large hands over your hips, the curve of your waist. He lifts his hands to the edge of your shirt and hooks his fingers into the hem, slowly tugging it upwards. The reveal of skin is tantalizing, makes his mouth water like a man stranded in a desert. 

Sparks jolt the length of his spine as his fingers brush over the bare skin of your stomach. Fuck, you’re soft. He knew you would be. He pulls the shirt over your head and ogles stupidly at your chest. 

“Someone’s worked up,” you tease, playing with his hair. You undo his buns, leaving his hair down.

“Of course I am,” he mutters, his voice strained. “You’re sitting on my lap, looking like that—”

“Can I kiss you?”

His eyes widen. 

“Please,” he breathes. It almost comes out like a desperate whine. “I mean— yeah—”

You raise a brow, laughing. It makes his face heat up down to his neck. 

“Begging already? Thought you’d be more of a dominant type.”

You’ve thought about me?

“I— I am,” he grumbles. 

“Uh-huh. I’ll let you prove it later.” You lean in.

“Promise?” He looks at you with something eager in his gaze and your eyes soften. 

“Mhm.”

Finally, he captures your lips with his. You sigh into it and it makes his cock throb underneath you. He takes that as an invitation, his tongue immediately pushing past the plush of your lips. He reaches up to grab the back of your head and tangles his fingers in your hair as if he’s done it all before. It makes you moan a little in his mouth.

He moans back, pulling you flush against the hard planes of his chest. You pull back slightly, leaving him to chase your lips for a moment as he lets out a small huff of protest. When you look at him, his eyes are half-lidded, lips slightly parted and shiny with spit.

“You’re pretty,” you say without thinking. “Real pretty.”

He flushes, unable to form words. His expression immediately floods with disappointment when you get off his lap to stand. 

“Where are you going?” His voice would be whiny if it wasn’t so gruff from desire. 

“Relax, idiot.” You unbutton your pants, sliding them down slowly. He assumes you’re teasing him, which he doesn’t particularly mind. You’re a sight to behold. His cock twitches as his eyes look at your smooth thighs. 

“Get over here,” he huffs. You laugh, moving to straddle him. 

He doesn’t have time to react before you lean in to immediately nip at his neck. He lets out a moan, hips bucking involuntarily. You can feel his pulse quickening, the vibration of his moans underneath your lips. 

“Fuck,” he gasps. His fingernails dig into the meat of your waist. 

He can’t stay still. It takes him everything in him to not rock his hips up into you. It doesn’t help that he can already feel your wet heat hovering over his cock. His brain nearly short-circuits. He preens under you, grabbing at you like you’re going to fly away. 

“Be patient. Wanna play with you first,” you mumble.

Choso’s eyes flutter closed as you speak. You sound so fucking sexy right now, he can’t stand it. It’s better than the stupid filler plot he scrubbed through in that damn porno. Miles better. 

“Play with me,” he grits. “Fuck — later.”

“Oh, yeah. Forgot you were pregaming this before I walked in.”

He glares at you. It’s entertaining watching the expression melt off his face when you lift your hips and immediately slam down on him. The moan he lets out is guttural. His hands immediately find your hips.

“Hah – fuck,” you breathe. “You’re bigger than you look.”

Choso lets out a strangled chuckle, head falling back on the couch. It makes him look even hotter, the way his tattoos flex with his collarbone. 

“Told you I wasn’t a kid.”

Your laugh tapers off into a moan when he gives a small, tentative roll of his hips. Testing the waters. You’re so fucking tight that it’s making it hard for him to even think. When he hears you gasp at being filled by him completely, his eyes widen.

“Shit,” he gasps. “Wanna make you do that again—”

“H-Huh?”

His eyes lock on your face as he grins, grinding into you slowly. 

“That noise–” he groans, his throat taut and dry. “You made this little gasp—”

“Ah–”

“There it is,” he snickers. His eyes gleam. “Just like that.”

Your eyes roll back, mirroring the roll of his cock inside you. Your cunt clenches around him and it feels like fucking heaven. He can feel all your wetness drool into his lap. He had the urge to push you into the leather, cant his hips up like something rabid. 

It feels like his brain was going to fall out of his nose, the head rush in tandem with the blood pumping into his cock. Impossible tightness. Snug cunt, petals closing into a bud. 

When you wrap your arms around him, it almost feels romantic. It’s dangerous.

He kisses you, then. Quivers when he feels you getting lost in it, tasting nicotine in your swapped spit. He whimpers as you start to move your hips with more intention. You smile wryly at his reaction, pulling away, eyes fixed on where your bodies meet.

You’re a fucking wet dream while you’re riding him. The way your hair brushes messily over your jawline, the way your mouth parts with a gasp every time he feels you pulsate on his cock. Choso grabs your ass greedily and kneads it, mesmerized at the softness of your flesh. 

“God, you look so fucking good right now—”

His eyes flash as he watches you move. He tries to match your tempo, rutting up into you with frenzied effort. His cheeks are flushed as he nearly unravels himself for you, his expression raw and hungry. He leans in to suck on your tongue, descending his wet mouth down to your jaw, your tits. Oral fixation.

You can feel him deep in your stomach, buried in you. It’s as if he could pierce you through the throat. You’re sure that you’ll ache everywhere by the time you get home. You’d never taken a cock quite this big, never been this wet, your insides swirling around like a washing machine. Your guts all muddled with something that felt too warm for just lust.

“So fucking hot,” he mumbles, hands pressing into your bare thighs. 

All his preoccupations with you had disappeared. He didn’t care if you thought he was a pervert, since you were one too, in a way. Letting him fuck you like this when he barely knew you at all, yet a repressed part of his brain made his heart flutter at the thought of you. It didn’t help that he could practically feel your heartbeat with his cock.

It isn’t romance — it has to be the sex. He can’t think about it too much right now. Not when he’s in a state of delirium inside your cunt.

“Choso, I’m close,” you whine.

“Yeah?” he rasps. “Fuck, me too.” 

His hair is tousled and sticky. Eyes glazed, chest rising and falling rapidly.

He grabs at your hips, guiding them to grind on him faster. Your wetness makes it all so smooth — all buttery, no resistance. You feel full.

He feels like he’s being squeezed to death, to heaven. It sends him over the edge at the same time he feels your pussy clench around him. You tremble in waves as you gasp out a moan. It’s more like a choked breath. He can’t stop watching you as you come, the way your eyes roll back. 

A whine escapes his throat as he cums. Everything that seeps out is slick, feels like something new and primordial at once. Seraphic, he’d say, if he happened to be drunk. He certainly feels drunk.

Choso doesn’t expect you to kiss him so sweetly after such a vulgar affair. He lets out a long exhale into your mouth with eyes closed, letting his head fall back a little while your hands cup his cheeks. His body is all melted limbs, languid sex. 

“Jesus,” he mutters. 

“Hey.”

He opens his eyes and gazes at you through sleepy lids. He lifts a hand lazily, brushing the hair away from your face.

“Yeah?”

“Did you pick an actress that looked like me on purpose?”

He freezes. His hands tighten around your waist as he looks away.

“No,” he scoffs. “Just thought she was hot—”

You chuckle.

“I didn’t pick it, I found it,” he gruffs. “I’ll admit that… she looks like you… I guess.”

“Was I as good?” 

He scoffs again, his eyes flashing with a mix of playfulness and irritation. You were as much of a little shit as he was.

“You’re better,” he rolls his eyes. “I already told you what I think, dumbass. Real pretty.”

“Oh, did you?”

There’s a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “I’d be pretty pissed if you weren’t better than some stupid video—”

“Idiot. Those girls are probably like, Olympians at fucking. Porn isn’t like real sex anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he grins. He pauses for a moment, suddenly looking timid. “It’s just… a decent placeholder for when I… y’know.”

“Just call me next time.”

Choso’s eyes widen slightly, unable to hide his surprise. He sputters for a second.

“What? I’m, uh— not gonna call you every time I—” he groans, “That’ll be way too many times.”

You raise a brow.

“Wait, no— that came out wrong. I’m not some horny freak or something—”

“I mean, given how I found you…”

“That’s—” he stammers, unable to complete a sentence without his brain completely blacking out every millisecond. “That was a one-time thing.”

“Hope so. I don’t wanna fire you, newbie,” you grin.

His pulse quickens at your smile. 

“Like hell, you will. You’re too understaffed to fire me.”

PART TWO

[seungfl0wer]

*Movies an Enimies?*

Paring: Hyunjin x Reader (fem)

Genre: Pure Smut

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, public sex, Cream Pie, Fem oral, slight choking? Unprotected sex

This may not be suitable for everyone, this is your last warning.

I fully indulged in this one. It just kinda flowed out, I really hope yall enjoy it as much as I did.

Heading to the movie theater, slightly bummed that your friend ditched you for some new man of hers. You weren’t just gonna miss the movie you’ve been waiting to come out just because she wasn’t gonna come. Did you feel a bit embarrassed going to the movies by yourself? Of course, even more so when the guy doing the tickets said “oh only one?”

Lucky for you when you walked into the movie theater you were the only one. No one else in sight, you picked your seat in the many rows and got comfy. Only for a few minutes later to hear the door swing open. Whoever the guy was that came through was talking loudly on his phone arguing with someone. Then it clicked in, you knew that voice and then it sank in. It couldn’t be, not him not when there’s no one else here. Lo and behold it was definitely him. Hyunjin. The annoying guy who you went to high school with and now have to put up with because he snuck his way into a friendship with your bestie.

Did you hate this man? Well hates a strong word. Did you maybe wanna punch him in the face? Yeah, yeah you did. He’s just always gave off that Im a pretty fuck boy I can do what I want vibe. It irritated you so much but you knew it irritated him even more that you didn’t give him the time of day.

What you made out while not so ease dropping since he was talking so loud was, his date bailed and now he was here alone. He sighed as he hung up slumping into a seat in the back. He kicked his feet up onto the chair in front of him getting comfy as you sunk down as much as you could trying not to let him see you. Please don’t see me is all your mind could think until of fucking course you dropped your cellphone on the ground. You just kinda froze, closing your eyes hoping he didn’t hear that. As you grabbed for you coming back up to sit you’re met with those eyes of his. Piercing through you your heart just thudding.

“Y/n? Ah yeah you being here alone would make sense since you don’t have friends to go out with” he hissed a grin spreading across his face. You wanted nothing more than just to sock him a good one. Just once.

“Yeah? At least I wasn’t stood up” you retort rolling your eyes, you slumped back into your seat hoping nothing more than that he would just leave. But of course not. Why would he? He hopped over the seat beside you, he just kinda stared at you eyes studding your face. You didn’t know what to do your eyes stared back but your heart wanted you to break it up before it exploded.

“So we watching this together or what?” He said bluntly raising an eyebrow. You looked almost confused but blurted out “we kinda have to we are the only ones here dumbass.” He chucked a bit to himself taking your hand quickly before you could protest “great come back here with me.” he said getting up basically dragging you along with him to the way back in the corner.

You groaned “why do I need to be back here with you?” You hissed. You were in a perfect spot why’d you have to move for him? He just smiled and said “oh hush just stay here.” You were gonna say something back but the movie had finally started and you weren’t about to miss it. You slouched into the seat next to him.

Not even 30 minutes in before hyunjin is already wrapping his arm around you. You turn your head to the man but it’s kinda hard to see him but what you can make out is his eyes. His eyes look dark, his plush lips parted slightly. It felt like he was taking your clothes off with his eyes. And truthfully that was tame for what he was thinking off.

Hyunjin moves his body, basically hovering over you his eyes beaming down at you. You couldn’t move, your brain wasn’t responding and your dumb heart was just pounding out your chest. “Y/n you know you’re just so beautiful” he said his words coming out soft but hot. He leaned down to you only inches from your lips “tell me to stop if you want me to and I will” he said giving you a second to protest before kissing you hard. His lips smashed into yours, your eyes fluttered you felt like you could just melt there.

He quickly moved down you kneeling down head kissing your thighs. Your mind finally unfroze remembering you were in public, “wait” you said softly. And he did. He instantly stopped what he was doing staring up at you “what’s wrong?” He said cocking his head to the side. “What if someone” you said before he cut you off. “Y/n I worked here before you can’t see anything in this corner don’t worry” he said his grin creeping up his face “may i continue?” He said pecking your thigh once again. You sigh nodding your head.

Were you really about to do this, not just in public but with hyunjin too? Before you could even think about any of it Hyunjin was pulling your shorts down and panties down. He struggled for a second with your button which made you giggle a little.

Quickly as he got them off he dove his head into your heat. The moan you both let out was almost in harmony. His tongue lavishing at your entrance, he pushed a few fingers into your cunt his tongue now nipping at your clit. You were grabbing at anything you could gripping his hair which only pushed head closer to your soaked cunt. He seemed to enjoy you pulling his hair leaving at soft muffled moans against your folds.

You felt your high coming and it was coming fast. Your thighs started to jolt and close only to have Hyun moan even more. If this is how good he was at just eating you out you didn’t think you could even handle him fucking you. Hyuns finger picked up there pace arching inside you, his hands gripping tightly to your thigh sure to leave marks but god did it feel so so good.

“Hyunjin- I’m-“ you didn’t even get the words out before you came around his fingers. He quickly licked you like a starving animal, cleaning the mess he made of you. You wanna talk about pussy drunk? Man was full on gone from eating you out.

He whipped his mouth off before crashing his lips to yours fumbling to pull his pants down. He sat in the seat beside you again still trying to catch his breath. He patted his lap motioning for you to come take your seat. Your legs were still a bit weak you faced the screen grabbing his cock you slid it up and down your fold rewarding you a groan from the beautiful man below you.

You teased him for a few minutes before he let out a low almost growl “you either sit or I’ll pull you down baby” he said taking your hair in his hand. God did he ever sound so fucking hot. Honestly you couldn’t wait anymore yourself so you slowly sank yourself into him. His cock filled you so well, you both sat there for a few seconds it just feeling to good, before you started to move. He placed a hand on your hip digging his nails back into you, his free hand moved to play with your already sensitive clit.

As you road him the movie drowned out most of your sounds but you both could hear yourselves. He could hear all your beautiful moans, the way you said his name the way your words got stuck in your throat. His groans filling your ears making you closer to the climax again. He pulled you back to him wanting your body against his he bright a hand up to play with your nipples the other hand now around you neck. He peppered sloppy kisses on your cheek whispering in your ear how good you feel.

“Y/n I hope you know how much I’ve thought of this” he said his voice so hot so attractive. “You think of me a lot” you stutter out a small smug grin comes across you face. He laughs to himself a bit “you’d have to be dumb to not see how much I’ve always wanted you” he says stopping your hips. You whine as he stops the movement which makes him laugh more.

He lifts you up, wanting you to turn to face him “I wanna see your face when I make you come on my cock” he says in the most sinful voice. You felt like you coulda just came there and then. He quickly take your thrown seat but this time you sink down fast wanting to feel him again. He quickly grabs your hips before thrusting into you. He felt so good so so fucking good the way his cock just felt like it belonged, like you were made just for him.

He pounded away at you the theater now full of the sounds of you two. Skin smacking, moans, groans and his name. You both were coming undone so fast. He sloppily kissed you pushing his tongue into your mouth to memorize how good you taste. His hand back around your neck softly chocking you. Everything just felt like a dream. A great dream.

“Hyun-gonna-c-cum” you choked out as your high was reaching fast. He nodded “me too” he said trying to catch his breath before following up with “can I cum inside you?” He asked. Not skipping a beat you nodded leaning down to him “cum- cum deep- fill me please” you basically begged. Your words unlocked something in him, his movements were somehow more powerful, deeper even. He gripped your throat making you look at him as both your highs washed over. His cock twitching so deep inside you, feeling all of him release. It felt like you could just die it felt so good you can’t even describe it.

A few minutes passed as you both try to catch your breath, hyun handing you his water and you just chugged that bitch. He smiled chucking at you. He brushed some hair away from your face before kissing your nose. “So- we didn’t get to watch the movie” he said laughing even more.

You laughed along “well someone had other ideas” you teased. You slowly got up feeling all of him starting to drip down. “This just means we’ll have to come back on our second date” he said pulling his pants up smiling as he looked at you. “How about a real first date first” you said back staring him down. “Fine fine but only if I get to tell people your my girlfriend” he said in a hum taking your hand in his. You nod yes “fine I guess it’s a deal.” You said watching the biggest smile come across his face.

You and hyunjin? You’re gonna get bullied endlessly from your bestie about this.

💙 if you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open feel free to send me something🩵