#so he still makes the women evil but he makes the men even more evil than them to compensate

[azonewithu]

You try sometimes but you cannot just bring yoursrlves to be himsn bejngs instead of royals. Being human is better thsn being royal. It should be human first thrn roysl ehatevervthat fuckn even neans these days no one jnows. Not even the royals. Its true imnever realky liked you people really and rightfully so. But i liked something about you. Ot doesnt mean ur specisl or good it just keans i like you. And i defended you better thsn your husband coukd ir sny of your pussy ass useless punk knights. I never heard any of thrm say a pedp much in ur defence. Maybe to you not to the world. I crushed their prrceotions i torched half their homes. Do you see that chick on tv saying anything anymore. Shes terrified of me everyone is. Maybe even you now. But i just woikdbt write my family beefs down id ysje it up wiyh ky fuckn idiot family first. Yhen never write about it thats just me not everyone. Still those kids are ok. You shouldnt push your family away no matter what they did. You dont know what my old man did to me i still talk tonyhatvfucon goof. And its not going ina book. Youre rude to ke in return i shoildnt have boyhered st sll to stick up ffor strangers i dont know anyway. You coukdnt just slip away thpugh i see everythong snell everyone: i knew youbwete here. All in purple. Whats your problem afraid uoudike me ytoo lych if i tried to kiss you? Your husband aint got shit on me when it comes to ladies. But neither fo americans. Yer men and american nen very similar. Not good with women like i am. Spl talk n show no results. Theyre more in love with themsrlves those monkey ass rats. They raally think theyre something kate?? Hiw cone i kicked all their asses bar not one? They atent grast hi donnie ur mama bifch. The eitkd days fucknand you asshole. Hey willie. Willie willie eillie boi. Ily boi thst guts p didfys friend. Ha ha ga ya sure ya kniw about ur husband. Oh you fo know. Hes a playboy uoubcsught him. Do you have one in the bank id love to kiss you. Ahh but i e out upnwith homewrechers myysrkf donid likely not even try. Stupid nice guy not even finishing again. Assholesctske my work. Americans are mostly scum scum scum scum scum watch ehst hspoens this summer. Oh its war its in im gonna toast their asses to desth. And drown them too. They have a cataclism on its way. Nobody i ever tslked yo in this workd has a good opinion of thrm. None. People hate them. Stick with the common wealth forget scum bags eho hate HmGid hate peopke and hatevthrmsrlves like smericans do. Ive put a desth citse on thrir bation Katy. Yhey ate dead. Gid hstes them like baaaad. Theyre not good people are ya gonna argue. They e never bed. Good fuckn leople. Thry wete a big beyter begire but yheir devil drmon soaens not humans. They think evil is funny look at yhrir contorted faces. They carey the mwrknif the beast. Thry ate sonsfraid of je so dont you fear thrm. Yhry ste fuvk sll and nothing to fear. Anericans ate the dhitiiest fighters on earth. I gought a binch in glorids i best thrm mercilessky. I nevef lost s fight in the states. People hste those people. Donfomt go fugon loving demons kste unless youte one too. Eho knows. Youte rude i know that. But all english lsdies ste s bit cold n rude i like that. Ill warm you up. But you sre not smericans thank fuckn God. And me. I devended uour name. People fied im sn assasdin. Then i threstened thevrert into silence. Youll he er hesr it brought up again. Im the fucon nan and yhe Arch. Doed t thst tirn you on just s little? You hot kne in yhe bank none in the oven. Ill make you feel like you hever have befire……but in a good way. Yiull explode.

[ms-cartoon]

While HB is often praised for representing that men can be abused by women with Stolas and Stella, and while its true that there are widespread gendered assumptions when it comes to abuse, I think Stella's writing leaves a lot to be desired. Can you give some examples of good depictions of abusers, especially female ones in media and why they're better representation of abusive and evil women than Stella?

Sorry it took me ages to answer you. I've been taking a hiatus talking about this stupid show, but here I am . . .

Stella could’ve been a great opportunity to explore complex, abusive female villains, but she’s so one-note and cartoonishly evil that it kind of misses the point.

As for better examples:

Mother Gothel from Tangled is a strong one. She uses manipulation, guilt-tripping, and control disguised as love — which feels a lot more grounded and unsettling. Stella can still love Via, but her being evil, she would have to have these traits.

Livia Soprano from The Sopranos is another. She’s emotionally abusive in this quiet, toxic, passive-aggressive way that feels painfully real.

Beatrice Horseman from BoJack Horseman is a solid example. No matter how much Viv thinks Stella is so "similar" to this woman, she simply ISN'T!! Her emotional abuse is rooted in generational trauma and internalized pain. It’s not just "she’s mean" — the show explores why she’s like that, without excusing it. It makes her a tragic but fully realized character. Stella, on the other hand? She's just a hot-tempered bitch with no character, yells a lot, and twirls her mustache in the background while her brother is doing all the villaining, and he had a total of three f*cking appearances in this show.

All of them show how abuse isn’t always loud and over-the-top — it can be subtle, calculated, or even sugar-coated. That’s what makes it believable and impactful. Stella just yells a lot and plots murder on Stolas, which... okay, but not exactly nuanced.

[lizardho]

I came out to my dad as bisexual at 14 and I was PANICKED because I had a crush on a guy in my Boy Scout troop and thought I was Going To Hell Forever and he was so kind and understanding of my distress, but he had NO idea what bisexuality was. He just said “yeah but you like girls too? This is normal. Everyone is like this.” And I love my dad and trust him with my life to this day and the idea that the concept of bisexuality had not occurred to him had not occurred to me so I put it off.

By 16 though I had a crush on like THREE boys. Three entire boys in my Boy Scout troop. I felt like my sin was slowly advancing, until like an untreated cancer it had become metastatic. I remember bawling my L’il limp-wristed sissy eyes out in his big rumbly truck on the way home from a scout meeting and him telling me that it was OK, that he still loved me if I was gay, but that he knew I wasn’t gay because I still had crushes on women and that meant I was straight. I didn’t quite know how to explain that those felt *~*different*~* and that I felt like I was losing a fight to evil inside me but I again felt comforted by his reassurances and his genuine fatherly love.

At 18 I was like “hey I’m realizing all my friends are going on missions. I don’t wanna do that. Idk how to say that and I don’t have a ‘good enough’ reason to not wanna go.” So I just put it off. Again, my parents were extremely supportive of the information I gave them (I blamed it on perpetually forgetting to start the paperwork.) and one day my mom texted me that she had done the paperwork for me! And that all I needed was to get a physical! So I did that (it was awkward af tbh, my hernia check was done by a trainee doctor and she spent like 3 minutes fishing around my inguinal canals before her attending rescued me) and was sent to Mexico City where I learned that in addition to dipshit himbos with strong hands and scruffy guys with artistic hearts I was REALLY into chubby Latin men with strong personalities who bullied me a little when I lived in Mexico.

I remember my first companion got annoyed with me during an argument and said we were just gonna wrestle and whoever won the wrestling match won the argument (I stg I am dead serious this happened.) I was like…SWEATING when he tore off his tie and threw his white button-down shirt onto the ground (I won btw, don’t ask me how).

I remember one of my companions with this really intense, almost manic energy telling me that he was gonna make sure I was safe in a new area I didn’t know very well. He cooked breakfast for me and we’d go shopping together on P-Days and in the mornings before breakfast he’d jog around and do pull-ups with his shirt off and I’d do anything but look at him because my face would break out in a sweat so intense he’d think I was crying and come over to see if I was OK and somehow make it worse. He let me play D&D with myself in the evenings even though it was against mission rules because he knew how lonely and stressed I was.

I remember one of my companions was a big chubby man with a loud voice and a great sense of humor. He was kind and direct when addressing conflicts with me, and always bragged about how he knew the secrets of women’s minds and it felt like he really did since it almost always boiled down to “Treat Them Like People and Love Them a Lot. Don’t Stop Being A Person For Them. Also Eat Them Out Sloppy Style.” Our P-Day activities sometimes felt like dates, and it seemed like he was more attentive to my emotional state than I was since he was always the first to suggest we slow down our Divinely Mandated, God-Ordained, Super Sacred Work and Wonder to get a snack or check out a Pawn Shop (I love Pawn Shops).

I remember another companion who asked me to bully him every time he did something against his goal of losing weight. It was like he gave me Carte Blanche to take out my crush on him by being a nuisance and I LOVED that. I remember having a breakdown one day after we’d spent the afternoon frantically cleaning our disgusting-barely-habitable mission house to make it look less vile that it was (not our fault imo?) and I started bawling and he pulled me into a hug and he smelled good and he told me he knew it wasn’t just the house and that I was mad at him for being a Huge Dickhead for about a week (true) and that he would work on it. (He’s also a huge chaser but that’s a separate thing.)

I remember one of my companions waking up early (and our schedule is already built for sleep deprivation) to make me a “birthday cake” from knock-off Nutella and bread. He used matches for candles and woke me up, lit the ‘candles,’ pulled them out, then smashed it in my face and took a bunch of pictures while I was still madrugada and disoriented as fuck. He had the same sense of humor as one of my HS crushes and I could push his buttons pretty easily which was so fun.

I came home from my mission and started back at BYU where I became actively and aggressively suicidal. I had a stalker the year I moved up there and my dad’s solution to that was to get me a gun. I know he wouldn’t have bought me a gun if he could have read my mind, but I had a loaded pistol under my bed during a trifecta faith/sexuality/gender crisis and that was not helpful. I remember that the day I decided to kill myself I figured I’d call the BYU CAPS and see if I could get into therapy because it felt like what I was “supposed to do” so I could check my suicide boxes. My therapist was the guy who’d helped me pick a major the year before and was this drop-dead gorgeous Hawaiian man who cried when I told him how I’d been feeling.

A few weeks into therapy I met another stunning man with soft eyes and a scruffy illegal-at-BYU beard he kept pushing his luck with. He was funny, kind, patient, married, and wouldn’t give me the time of day if he knew I was crushing on him. We were in my history of psych class, which was inarguably the worst psych class I have ever had, and we studied together for every assignment and test and I realized that my feelings for him and for all the men I’d already mentioned were in direct conflict with my faith and relationship with God. My already agonizing spiritual conflict became even more wretched and as a result of this plus some other tightly-packed experiences with Mormonisms bullshit, I left the church.

After leaving the church I decided to move back to AZ and transfer to ASU. My mom helped me get a dog since I think it had started to dawn on my family that my mental health was barely getting me through the day, and she knew that we both loved dogs. Madi made my last year at BYU livable while I got my shit together and transferred. In that last year, I went on a date with quite possibly the only semi-openly-out trans person on BYU campus. It was not a great date imo, I was not doing well, but the person I spoke with was fun and fascinating and talked to me about Gender Dysphoria and it really cemented my need to go. To leave and never come back to that fucking school.

I started at ASU a month after my last semester at BYU and within a very short time frame it felt like I was coming back together, like a puzzle magically putting itself together in an environment that wasn’t slowly draining that puzzle’s will to live.

On the 4th of July, the year I started at ASU, I saw a transition timeline photo of a gorgeous happy beautiful happy radiant happy woman and her former Mormon missionary self and I realized the light that was on in her eyes was the light that was off in mine. I looked into transitioning for 3 days, sleeping about 10 hours total during that time. I started talking to other trans people on Reddit (one of whom is now my beautiful fiancée @cintailed) and after about a month of making preparations to be disowned and kicked out, something I was not sure would happen but was ready to go through to Turn On The Lights, I came out to my family and it was amazing. I started HRT a month after that. I secretly dated some dorky guys for about a year while I applied to grad schools. I got into a great grad school for me and my needs. I got FFS. I did my trainings and classes. Me and my fiancée moved in together after some LDR shenanigans. We’ve lived together now for 4 years of basically marital bliss. We have a cat named Grandmother Esmeralda Weatherwax who bites the hell out of my feet about three times a day. My bi-cycle continues to be part of my life but now it’s not as scary. Baby gays in my life have started to look to me for advice. Idk how this all happened so fast. When the years, months, weeks, days, and hours seems to crawl by so slowly now they are rushing past me so fast it’s almost bewildering. Whereas before I felt like I was living on borrowed time, past my ‘expiration date,’ now it feels like I can Fucking Breathe. I’m training myself to slow down now and it feels worth it to Live In The Moment.

Idk why I wrote this. Idk why these thoughts only seem to come up on Sundays when I’m supposed to be writing my dissertation. Idk why I’m crying rn or why I feel so happy. I’m gonna post this shit then get on with my dissertation I guess. Read more Terry Pratchett and give yourselves the time you need. Get a pet. Talk to someone. Re-examine the events that brought you here. Be gayer. Love y’all 💕

[drunk-person]

The Promises We Make

Pairing: King!Aemond Targaryen x lover!reader

Summary: She was supposed to be his. Not that filthy bastard. He knew her first. He loved her first. Only to they give her hand in marriage to Jacaerys Velaryon. But now the war is won, and as the new king Aemond can have whatever he wants, and he wants her. He wants to fulfill the promise he made to her outside the sept all those years ago.

WARNING: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, forced voyeurism, consensual exhibitionism, fingering, oral sex F and M receiving, anal sex (very little, but it's there), possessive sex, dom/sub tones if you squint, mentions of murder, Aemond murdering more kin, bastardophobia, Jacaerysphobia, no description for reader.

Word cont: 4.800k

A/n: My little contribution to Halloween "very evil laugh here". To my Aemond wives: This is basically the dirtiest, slightly darkest thing I've ever written, I'm blushing as I post it. Let's go!

Before

The sept was full of people to watch Prince Jacaerys' wedding, he waited anxiously next to the septon for the bride's arrival while slightly moving his hands.

The door opened and Lady Y/n walked in, at the same moment everyone turned to look at her. Y/n smiled beautifully as she struggled to walk down the hallway, feeling her legs still wobbly and slightly damp.

Her eyes burned as they met Jacaerys' and her smile grew even wider. Her steps became more confident, and when she reached the end of the walk, she stopped in front of the septon, still with that smile on her face.

Jacaerys watched her, visibly confused. They had met about three moons ago and the wedding had been arranged. Until then, he hadn't thought she was so eager to get married, since she barely spoke to him usually. But there she was, eager to marry him.

Interlude

Things had never been so bad. His mother and brothers had perished, and from what he could tell Daemon had also found the stranger, only he was left, the last one to survive. Jacaerys did not know if this was a gift or a punishment.

He could have fled, gone to the free cities and been free now. But he was no coward, he was a Targaryen and would not back down. But courage did not help him much when his uncle's men captured him and brought him to the black cells of the red keep.

Aemond Targaryen. Not content with the title of kinslayer after murdering Luke, he sought even deeper immoralities.

He murdered one by one all the ratcatchers at Aegon's command while they begged for their lives. He killed Rhaenys and exposed the charred remains of the queen who never be, to the kingdom after her victory. He personally beheaded each of the remaining ones who swore fealty to Rhaenyra. He burned the riverlands until only ashes remained on the ground without caring if there were innocents there. He personally exterminated House Strong from end to end, sparing no nobles or bastards, women or children.

At the end of the war, when everything seemed lost, he guided his uncle, Daemon Targaryen, into a trap. From what little was known, Aemond Targaryen lured him to Harrenhall Castle, where, separated from Caraxes, he ambushed him in a dark corridor and before the Rogue Prince knew what was happening, he was dead.

And now with the death of Aegon, who had finally succumbed to his wounds and died shortly after murdering Rhaenyra. Aemond had lost his title of one-eyed prince and kinslayer in favor of a new one.

King Aemond Targaryen, the cruel.

Now

The cell was opened with a loud noise and Jacaerys turned to see two guards enter the cell and drag him out without further explanation. And he just followed them without question, but he began to frown when he noticed that he was being taken to the bedroom wing of the fortress.

-Where are you taking me? - He asked, but received no answer.

The guards took him to one of the rooms, tied him to a chair with a thick rope, and without saying a word to him, left him there alone.

A little while later, the door opened behind Jacaerys, who felt the back of his neck shiver. The temperature in the room seemed to drop, and suddenly all sounds seemed to become quieter. There was no need to look back to know who had entered the room.

A low murmur left no doubt, Aemond had ordered him to be taken there.

-Enjoying your stay, my Lord Strong? - He asked in that cynical and cruel voice that made Jacaerys's blood boil in his veins.

-Velaryon. - He growled through his teeth, and Aemond just hummed as he gently curved his lips.

-No, it isn't. And we both know that. But now I don't need to pretend that you're nothing more than a bastard dressed as a prince walking around the court. - Aemond had a deadly voice as he spoke.

-What are you going to do? Murder me tied up like the coward that you are? Just like you did with Luke?

Aemond laughed as if Jacaerys was telling a joke.

-Please don't try to boost your own ego, we both also know that you wouldn't last even a breath in combat against me. - When he finished, Aemond was serious again.

-I'm not going to kill you, at least not yet. - His cruel voice sounded through the room.

-So what do you want from me? - Jacaerys glared at him angrily. - If you expect me to bend the knee, forget it, I will never do it.

-I don't need bastards to bend the knee to me, their false loyalty doesn't represent any value to me. I'm already the king. - He walked while mocking Jacaerys.

-But there are certain things that need to be put in their proper place. There are some promises I made that need to be kept because after all I am a man of my word.

Jacaerys did not understand a word of what Aemond was saying, and came to think that he had finally lost his mind. Until then there was a knock on the door and he said the words that changed everything.

-Come in, my dear.

The door opened and then closed behind him, soft footsteps sounded against the floor and to Jacaerys's horror when the person finally entered his field of vision he discovered that the one who had come through the door was Y/n, his Y/n. He clenched his fists, locking his jaw, trying to free himself from the chair. Aemond approached her and passed the back of his right hand gently across her face as she closed her eyes.

-Get away from her. - Jacaerys shouted in fury.

-I could. - Aemond just laughed as he addressed him again. - If she wanted me to stay away.

-She never wanted you, my dear bastard. It was always me. - Aemond's mocking smile almost tore his cheeks as he caressed Y/n's neck with his fingertips, his stomach tingling with contentment as he saw her sweet, soft skin shivering with his touch.

-Lie. - Jacaerys practically shouted as he stared at Aemond with cold eyes.

-I'm going to show you the lie. - The king said, suddenly becoming very serious, his eyes flashing in the direction of his bastard nephew.

-Take off your clothes. - He ordered Y/n who hesitated for a second because she was in front of Jacaerys.

-Aemond… - She blushed visibly looking at his hands.

-I said take off your clothes. - He murmured the order very seriously as he gently caressed her chin.

She then obeyed, and looking only at Aemond she removed them piece by piece little by little, becoming completely naked. The look of pure desire he gave her made her press her thighs together tightly as she bit her lip, momentarily forgetting that Jace was in the room.

-Come here, my love. - He called her, extending his hand and Y/n immediately went to meet him eagerly.

-Always so obedient to me. - He said, stroking her hair as she practically rubbed her head against his hand.

Jacaerys watched this without reacting. Y/n had never obeyed him, she seemed like a wild horse. She wouldn't let him touch her, she was never willing to sleep with him, she was cold and cruel no matter what he tried, the few times they lay together she hadn't even moved in bed, or completely removed her clothes, seeming to do nothing. the slightest matter of being there. And now here she was obediently naked before Aemond as she melted into his touches.

Aemond moved his hands down to her nipples and squeezed them languidly, making her open her mouth in a soft moan, while she leaned towards him, silently begging for more. He then brought his mouth to her left nipple, sucking and kissing it, making her moan softly for him as he caressed his hair, pulling his mouth closer and closer to her.

The king then brought his right hand to the top of Y/n's thighs and smiled mischievously against the flesh of her breast, still with the nipple between his teeth, as he felt the moisture that was there.

-Always so wet for me.

He then had an idea. And releasing Y/n, causing her to let out a groan of frustration, he positioned a chair in front of Jacaerys a short distance away.

-Sit here, my dear. - He waved his hand, and Y/n, even hesitantly, did so.

-Now I want you to open your beautiful legs for me, and rest them on the chair. - He spoke in that soft voice and Y/n felt herself blushing to the roots of her hair for doing that in front of Jacaery, but she did it anyway.

Aemond stopped behind her and slowly ran his hand down Y/n's body, caressing her breasts, her belly until he reached where he wanted. And then he opened the lips of her pussy, exposing her to Jace. The wetness dripped from inside her uncontrollably, wet like Jace had never seen.

Aemond smiled mischievously as he gently caressed her folds, spreading more and more of the fluids that ran from her pussy, making her moan and gasp.

-Just look at her, Jacaerys. - He said maliciously. - Melting for me, so wet.

-Has she ever wet herself like this for you? - He said, slapping Y/n's pearl, making her scream as she threw her head back.

-That's enough! - Jacaerys shouted, fuming with rage at seeing his wife in that situation.

Aemond just laughed darkly as he inserted two fingers into Y/n's intimacy, who threw her head back in pleasure with the movements he made.

-Oh my dear Lord Strong, this will only end when I have fucked each of her delicious holes in front of you and taught you how a lady likes to be treated.

As he said that, he squeezed that spongy spot inside Y/n, making her beg for his name in pure desperation. Her moist flesh pressed against Aemond's fingers, begging for more contact, begging to be filled.

-Always making such sweet sounds for me, sweet girl. - Aemond whispered close to her ear, making Y/n gasp squeezing the back of the chair with that voice sounding so close.

With an almost evil smile, gently licking his lips, Aemond turned around, lowering himself between her legs in front of the chair and without warning, pulling her by the thighs, leaving her wet and warm pussy very close to his face.

-Raise your hips a little for me, my dear. - He asked in a firm voice and she did it at the same moment, needing his care more than ever. - Good girl.

Without waiting another second, the king took her moist folds into his mouth, tasting her with desire, eliciting screams and gasps from her lips, which for Aemond were as sweet as that pussy.

-Oh Aemond… - She sighed his name between degrading moans of pleasure as he sucked her pearl and played with her using his tongue, while his long fingers hit that specific spot inside her that made her scream every time. - More, please, more.

Aemond laughed in pure malice against her, making her feel even more pleasure, her soft walls contracting against his fingers as her whole body began to spasm slightly, Y/n's moans became louder and more debauched as she tangled her hands in Aemond's silver hair, practically rubbing herself against his face as ecstasy took over her body, screaming the king's name in desperation as she reached her peak and collapsed against the chair, feeling boneless. The body giving slight spasms as Aemond teased her sensitive pearl with the tip of his tongue even after the intense orgasm.

-Who do you belong to? - Came the firm question in Aemond's laconic voice as he held her by the hair to face him, now standing in front of the chair.

-To you, my king. - She sighed, staring at him.

-Then get on your knees for me like the good girl I know you are! - He growled, still holding her by the hair, making Y/n moan with contentment as she got up from the chair with her legs still slightly shaking.

As she stood up, she caught a glimpse of Jacaerys again, momentarily even forgetting that he was there, and with a mischievous smile she knelt in front of the chair where Aemond was now sitting.

-You know what to do, Issa jorrāelagon. (My love). - He murmured with a sickly side smile to Jacaerys who was about to vomit, while delicately stroking Y/n's locks of hair.

-Yes, my king. - She sighed, nodding eagerly. Without needing to hear anything else, she guided her hands to the laces of Aemond's pants, pulling them avidly, overcome by the desire to please him too.

Her hungry eyes shone as she finally placed them on Aemond's already hard and leaking cock, caressing his hardness with a lewd smile on her lips. Y/n ran her soft hands all over his length, from the base to the tip, leaving a gentle caress with the tip of her thumb on the slit from where that pearly liquid slowly flowed.

With an even bigger smile when she heard the king grunt softly, she finally brought her lips to the tip of his cock, slowly sucking only that part until her cheeks sank, moaning at the same time as he felt the strong taste of his pre-cum on the tip of his tongue.

Breathing deeply through her nose, she lowered her lips as far as she could, sucking and licking him with praise. Taking her mouth off and taking a breath, she only lowered her lips to his balls and kissed and sucked them hard while she moved her hand back and forth on his member, eliciting grunts and gasps from his trembling lips. Without warning, she lowered her lips once more to his cock, making him growl and tangle his hands in her wild hair.

-I'll fuck your mouth. - He growled, giving the first thrust against her lips and Y/n did her best to nod, feeling her eyes water. Aemond grunted lightly with his hands tangled in Y/n's voluminous hair while she sucked his cock hard, kneeling between his legs more like a whore than a lady.

-That's enough. - He growled, feeling his body tremble slightly with agonizing pleasure on the edge of the abyss, making Y/n remove her mouth from his cock and look at him with those doe eyes shining with tears, as if she hadn't just sucked him like a whore, her lips still full of saliva and pre-cum.

-Come here, sweet girl. - He pulled her to sit on his lap with a sideways smile, leaving a hungry and wet kiss on her lips, feeling her moan and rub her hot, wet mouth against him hungrily. For a moment he almost forgot about Jacaerys' presence in the room, so lost in the softness of Y/n's lips and pussy.

Until he heard the sound of wood hitting the floor and looked at his nephew over Y/n's shoulder, letting out a laugh when he saw him writhing in his chair, his eyes burning with fury as he tried to free himself.

-I thought you were stronger than that, my dear nephew. - Aemond murmured mockingly as he firmly squeezed Y/n's ass with both hands, making her moan and throw her head back, rubbing herself even more against his cock.

-Aemond please…- She sighed without caring about Jacaerys. - Please…

-Please what, my sweet? - He asked, laughing, kissing her neck roughly as he looked cruelly at Jace, waiting for Y/n's answer.

-Fuck me. - She begged him without any shame, grinding on his thighs and rubbing her wet folds against his hard, leaking member. - Please fuck me, my king. I'm yours.

-Did you hear that, bastard? - Aemond growled, serrated his lips and then biting Y/n's neck, making her scream for him. - It's me she wants!

With these words, he brought his right hand to the friction zone between the two of them and with a smile of satisfaction, guided his own hard cock, leaking inside her, making her moan with satisfaction as she descended on him.

-Yes… yes… yes… - She sighed in joy, feeling him stretch every corner of her to the edge, scratching the leather of his jerkin, hungry for more contact, hungry for more of Aemond.

-My girl is so needy. - Aemond hissed, slamming his hips against hers firmly, making her scream. - Always eager for my touch, always begging for me.

-Harder, Aemond. - She moaned between sighs as she nodded her head, going crazy with each bite the king left on her neck. Going up and down on his cock, riding him harder and harder, feeling goosebumps covering her skin with the sensation of pleasure that only Aemond could give her. - Please… please…

Growling with pleasure, Aemond tangled his left hand in her hair and pulled her against him, taking her lips in a wild kiss full of greedy bites, while lifting her hips from the chair harder, making her tremble above him and grip him even tighter.

Pulling her lower lip into a bite, he trailed kisses down her neck to her breasts, sucking and caressing them with his tongue, drawing even more pleasure from Y/n, who threw her head back lost in pleasure, finding her husband's glazed eyes watching the scene, looking like he was about to vomit.

The pleasure in her core multiplied. She liked the feeling. She liked seeing the humiliation in Jacaerys' eyes as Aemond took her. Y/n liked the feeling of knowing that he was feeling even more humiliated than she felt every time she was forced to endure his touch.

Feeling Y/n's walls contracting around him, Aemond guided his hand to her sensitive pearl that gently brushed against his pelvis with synchronized movements and caressed her even harder, making her scream and tremble above him, rolling her eyes in pure pleasure.

-Who do you belong to? - He growled breathlessly into her ear, feeling on the verge of his own orgasm.

-You, my king! - She practically sobbed amidst her moans, burying her face contorted with pleasure in the gap between his neck and shoulder, still riding him with trembling legs. - You. Only you.

-Look closely, you bastard. - Aemond growled, rolling his eyes in pleasure as he fucked Y/n with abandon. - I want you to see how well she cums on my cock.

With a loud moan of Aemond's name, Y/n came all over his cock, shuddering and convulsing as she collapsed on him, squeezing him so hard that she practically ripped the orgasm out of the king, who grunted and bit her shoulder, feeling the pleasure tear him apart as his seed invaded her hot pussy.

The two of them stood still for a few moments, panting and immersed in pleasure. The only sound in the room was their uneven breathing. Jacaerys could very well be dead in all that silence. Little by little, Aemond felt his cock slowly come back to life as Y/n's pussy spasmed around him, driving him completely crazy.

She whimpered against Aemond's neck, feeling his now semi-erect cock still buried deep in her sensitive intimacy. Aemond cooed softly at her as he stroked her hair.

-Are you okay, my dear?

She nodded at him as she stared at him with a tear-stained face.

-Can you hold one more for me? - He asked, tucking a strand of Y/n's wild hair behind her ear.

-Yes. - She sighed, throwing her arms around his neck and panting when she felt Aemond harden beneath her again.

-Then be good, go to the bed and get on your hands and knees for me. - He murmured with his lips pressed against Y/n's ear, while firmly squeezing both of her ass cheeks.

Y/n stood up and gasped as her body disconnected from Aemond's and with wobbly legs she walked slowly to the bed, not sparing even a glance at her husband still tied to the chair. Aemond's seed ran down her thighs along with her own fluids and with a sigh she knelt on the bed making every effort to stay steady, with her legs aching after sex.

Aemond walked to the bed and opening the last drawer he took the bottle of oil and Y/n moaned with contentment already knowing what was coming. He positioned himself behind her and gently kissed each of her ass cheeks before spreading them, exposing her wrinkled hole. She sighed at him and leaned her body even further forward just as she knew Aemond liked, her gaze meeting Jace's at that moment with a smile of pure satisfaction as she saw tears running down his damn face.

Y/n then felt the first finger soaked in oil entering her ass and sighed as she buried her face between the sheets. It didn't take long for Aemond to insert the second and then the third while making slow movements with his hand. He brought his other hand to her swollen clitoris and gently stimulated it, making her sigh and moan with the double stimulation.

And when he removed his fingers she waited anxiously for what was to come, the feeling of pleasure taking over her body as Aemond invaded her ass with his cock slowly.

-Seven hells. - Aemond moaned as he sheathed himself completely inside her. - Always so tight back here.

He then slapped Y/n's ass making her moan and began to fuck her hard against the mattress while she moaned desperately. Aemond pressed her pearl again leaving her a mess of moans and gasps for him as she begged for more. She no longer had any strength in her arms and collapsed on the bed, only with her hips raised as Aemond held them and she tried to keep them in the right position with the little strength she had left in her body.

-Whose cunt is this Y/n? - Aemond growled as he pinched her pearl between his fingers making her scream and spasm on the sheets.

-Y-yours Aemond. - She whimpered at him with tears of pleasure running down her cheeks.

-And whose mouth is this? - He murmured leaning down and kissing her in a way that could be passionate and dirty at the same time.

-Only yours my king. - She moaned between kisses.

-And whose is this tight, delicious ass? - He asked, slapping her left cheek, fucking her even harder while stimulating her clitoris with his fingertips.

-Yours. - Y/n cried and moaned. - Only yours, Aemond. Only yours. Always only yours my king.

Jacaerys could no longer look, could no longer feel repulsion, all of this was too much for him. Y/n was his, it was not supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be the king. Y/n was supposed to be his wife. Tears ran uncontrollably down his face as he saw his wife being degraded in the worst and most repulsive way before his eyes.

-Cum for me one more time Issa jorrāelagon. (My love). - Aemond spoke with his body glued to hers as he sped up his movements, and shortly after Y/n came with a moan and collapsed on the bed while Aemond came deep in her ass with a guttural moan and bit her right shoulder.

-I love you. - She said with a tired smile as Aemond pulled out of her and kept his own intimacy in his pants.

-Avy jorrāelan tolī, issa jorrāelagon. (I love you too, my love). - He murmured softly only for Y/n's tired and sleepy ears, as he left a wet kiss between her shoulder blades.

Y/n had never said those words to Jacaerys, had never even come close, had never even told him that he was tolerable. And a tear of pure hatred and betrayal ran down his face. He saw her in bed falling asleep covered in sweat with Aemond's seed dripping down her holes while Aemond smiled victoriously at him.

-What did you do all this for? - He asked with a choked voice trying to keep it steady, feeling the bile about to make him vomit after seeing one of the greatest atrocities of life happen in front of him. - You already had her now.

Aemond walked slowly towards Jacaerys with confident steps and a smile that was a mix of victory and malice.

-No my hateful nephew. I always had her. She was always mine. And you always trying to steal what is not yours dared to put your filthy paws on her perfect body! - He hissed with his eyes burning with fury, leaning over the chair and staring at him deeply.

-On your wedding day she came to me crying and begged me to take her virginity so that she would not have it stolen by you. - He smiled at the memory in an almost melancholic way. - And I did as she asked and fucked her, while she was still wearing that wedding dress, before you had even seen her in it.

-When she entered the sept, it was with my seed dripping down her thighs, just like now. - Aemond laughed victoriously as he watched Jace shake his head in pure shock and sadness.

-She never wanted you, she came to me every chance she got and begged me to give her the pleasure she knew only I could give her. - He hissed angrily, his voice low and deadly. - She told me she felt disgusted every time she needed to feel your touch against her skin and that she would kill you in your sleep if she could.

If Aemond had told him this a few hours ago, Jace would have denied it, said he was lying, but now… there was no denying the facts. Not after the torture she had subjected him to. Not after seeing his wife being sodomized by his uncle while she cried and begged for more beneath him.

-And now… - Aemond said, approaching with a sick smile as he pulled the dagger from his belt. - I will fulfill the promise I made her years ago.

And with his eyes still glazed over from the nightmare he had been forced to watch, Jacaerys waited silently for the stranger, who was certainly coming to meet him in the form of Aemond Targaryen.

The promise

-When my brother is king and I am your hand, I will take you for myself in front of that filthy bastard, and when I finish giving you pleasure, I will cut his throat and take you as my wife. - Aemond whispered softly against her jugular, very close to her ear, making her skin crawl.

And with that promise, Lady Y/n entered the sept to marry Prince Jacaerys with a smile on her face.

The future

Y/n felt free, she felt light, she felt like the most beautiful creature in all the kingdoms. The maids were preparing her wedding dress, beautiful as only something royal could be.

The council warned Aemond about the fact that marrying the wife of Prince Jacaerys, who had consistent rumors that the king himself had slit his throat, would not help improve his already low reputation. But he did not care. And ignoring all opinions, he set the wedding date as soon as possible, because he was sure that his seed had already taken root now with the absence of moon tea.

And today, finally, the most important day of all had arrived. She would finally be Aemond's, Aemond's and his alone, no more unwanted touches, no more pain, no more tears. She would be his alone. And that was why she smiled as they arranged her clothes. Shortly after they had finished dressing, combing her hair and putting her shoes on, all the maids left her alone in the room. It wasn't long before she heard a light knock on the door. Frowning, she went over and opened it, finding a young page standing there with a yellowed piece of paper between his fingers.

-The king ordered this to be delivered to you my lady. - He said, giving her the paper, bowing and then walking away.

Y/n smiled even wider if possible, and when she opened the paper, she thought her heart would explode with pure happiness.

"I'm thinking of you, see you in the sept.

A.T."

She pressed the letter to her chest with a sigh of joy, and then safely put it away in her bedside drawer.

Lady Y/n, soon to be queen, entered the sept with a smile from ear to ear, but this time it was for all the right reasons.

[yeagersss]

So back when I was super new to jjk (and Sukuna) I had this rp going on with my friend and I kinda wanna share what it was. It's not canon accurate at all but... Enjoy I guess? Haha.

So at first it is set in the modern JJK world. Sukuna ditches being evil and just lived his life after his reincarnation (under the watchful eyes of Gojo btw) and he gains his own body, falls in love and eventually has a daughter.

And he's the happiest he's ever been. He has a home and a small family of his own. He's content with living a quiet life with you and his daughter.

But of course, even if he has kinda "retired" from being the King of Curses, people are still after him. And somehow, he isn't able to protect you and his daughter.

You both are murdered in front of his eyes and Sukuna ends up going on a rampage, shifting back to his old bloodlust self as he gleeful destroys Tokyo.

Of course, Gojo is send to deal with him. Sukuna happily fights him with a ferocious grin on his face but Gojo can see right through him and knows the pain he's in (Gojo knows you and the family Sukuna had considering he popped by from time to time to check up on him much to Sukuna's dismay)

Gojo tries to reason with him but Sukuna just scoffs and grins and says to continue this. Their much awaited fight. (Shinjuku Showdown doesn't exist in this cuz I was anime only back then lol)

But during the fight, he remembers a memory of that one time Gojo had left after his routine visits. Where he scoffed and said the sorcerer was a pain in the ass to which you giggled.

"I'm far stronger than him. Such arrogance to think he can control the likes of me."

And you had smiled and gently nudged his shoulder. "Well, if you both ever fight again, I'll be there to cheer you on, Kuna." And his heart had just warms at your words.

And that's when it all comes crashing down on him. You're gone. You are no more. In his thousand years of existence, he had gained one good thing and he had lost it all.

He couldn't bring himself to fight, letting Gojo drag him across building to building until finally he's on his knees, looking down on the ground silently. Battered and bloodied.

And finally, he makes his decision. He has no reason to be here anymore.

This era had given him enough... It was time for him to leave.

And so, he gets up and starts walking away. Gojo watches him before speaking up. "Mind telling me where you're going?"

Sukuna stops, doesn't turn around as he quietly says. "Away. Do not follow me."

And Gojo doesn't.

So what Sukuna does is that he leaves the city, travels to the highest peak of the mountain ranges surrounding Tokyo and finds a cave.

It was time for him to leave this era for good. And that is what he does as he sits down cross legged on the rocky floor inside the cave and closes his eyes.

For the next thousand years, he meditates.

Civilisations grow and fall. Landscapes and seasons change. People come and go.

Until finally Sukuna opens his eyes.

And the world he is greeted with has changed completely.

Where Tokyo once stood, he could only see miles and miles of greenery and nothing else and when he decides to step into this new era and explore it, he comes across a small village.

Humanity had reverted back to its traditional ways. There was no technology, only men and women walking about, building wooden huts, herding animals and sharpening weapons as they chatted amongst each other.

And as he watched the village from afar, his attention was caught by a loud commotion.

"Easy, girl. Easy!"

You.

It was you.

You, who was riding on a horse, firmly pulling on its reins. You laughed softly and leaned in to gently pet her mane.

One thousand years later, you had reincarnated.

Part 2? Idk it depends on how this is received because this rp was pretty long haha and yeah ik Sukuna isn't immortal but let's just pretend he used his curse energy to preserve his body in the meditating state so granting him immortality or whatever tf yeah 🫠

[pellucid-constellations]

Set in Stone

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: The Court of Nightmares is an evil place. Secret agendas, forced marriages, malicious intent; there’s nothing good or pure. But then Azriel finds you.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: Angst but just a little to start

a/n: hi 😌 please enjoy my random inspo after the mess that is my life happened. I plan to write more for these guys so consider this a prologue :)

Masterlist ♡

~~

Time moved slower in the library. 

People spoke quieter, the air stood still, dim sunlight stiffened in lines that cut across endless tables. 

There was no real reason for you to be here. 

None at all. 

You welcomed the faint buzzing in your ears anyway, relished in the quiet you couldn’t find elsewhere. Flipping the page and going to the next, you pretended you did belong. Maybe as a scholar or researcher. Maybe an acclaimed author. An inventor, entrepreneur, alchemist—anything but the bleak reality. 

You were stuck. So, incredibly stuck. 

The high lord was coming today. You knew if you weren't in the hall with your family upon his arrival you would get an earful, but it was difficult to pull away from your beautiful corner of the night court.

No one ever came in here, and if they did they were over a millennium old and cared only for the books on foreign policy and probably the torture of young children, if you had to take a guess. But there was plenty of enjoyable material lining the shelves. Sure, it wasn’t very joyful, but it was informative, and anything was better than listening to your father blab on about your marriage prospects—an uncomfortable conversation that was to come to fruition any day now. 

With any luck, your husband would be a merchant who traveled endlessly or a soldier whose life would come to a quick end, leaving you free of any wifely obligations. But luck was hardly on your side, and as the daughter of a noble you were expecting a husband of the same station. 

And dukes were the absolute worst, all self-important and stagnant.  

An unfamiliar echo sent your head whipping to the side before you could tame your reaction. The library door swung open with such force it sent dusty air flying past your face. Typically, the old men entered meekly, the hefty door difficult for them to open. The abruptness of this entry, the power that seeped across the threshold, had you standing and pressing yourself against the table in milliseconds. 

You weren’t a fighter. Women were not allowed to learn anything of the sort here. You briefly debated if your embroidery skills would be enough to pose a threat to this presence, but that thought wisped away with the flickering shadows twining around your ankles. 

You didn’t recognize him at first. The high lord and his circle didn’t come to court often, and even when they did, they stayed far away on the dais or slinked around in hallways threateningly. And this man especially—the spy—he was almost always cloaked in shadow. 

His shadows weren’t covering him now, instead opting to twist up your body in a terrifying display. Were they searching you? Attempting to suffocate you? Paralyze you? 

It didn’t matter much, not when the shadowsinger himself was standing before you, exposed and armed to the teeth, his amber eyes locked on your own widened gaze. 

Your breath came out in short pants, uncomfortable and hard to capture. Your knuckles went white against the table, and you were sure if you were stronger, fractures would have appeared in the wood. The edge dug into your back. Shadows continued to make paths up your skin. 

The spymaster didn’t look away. 

The trembling began. It started with your jaw, then your legs, and then your chest. Breathing became nearly impossible. 

“Take care of that.” 

The last time the high lord made his rounds in court, those words had been a death sentence. One the man before you had carried out. A simple flick of his wrist and shadows had encased the lowly merchant that had insulted the high lady. His screams still echoed in the hall. 

At least, they echoed for you. 

The merchant was not a good man. Most that resided in the night court were not good people. But death was easy to come by here, and the shadowsinger—with his glaring siphons only inches away—was an executioner. 

Your life was little, meaningless, no direction or purpose other than marriage and continuing a family line, but you wanted to live for the chance of more. For the hope that one day, you might be free of this dank palace. 

Something softened in the spymaster’s eyes, and then he took a step forward, edging his hand towards you, palm up. The screeching of the table at your back made him halt. Your knees were shaking, your book now toppled over to the floor, and the shadows had refused to answer the call from their master. But you stood your ground, expecting a bruise where the table connected to your skin. 

“I apologize,” the Illyrian spoke, causing you to flinch once again. His own features seemed to recoil, and he took half a step back. “I am here on business for the high lord. I only seek the artifact room.” 

If you answered him, perhaps he would spare you. 

Your mouth opened and closed several times before the first sounds left your lips. “In the back. B-by the archives.” 

He nodded, but the action seemed delayed, slowed. As if he was measuring your reactions, trying to anticipate them. When you didn’t flinch again, he sent his hand out once more, this time with more force. Your breath caught, but when the shadows retreated from your body, some of the tension left you. 

The shadowsinger sidestepped, taking the longest route possible around your table toward the artifact room. Once his back was turned, you scrambled. You left the book spine up on the floor, quickly gathering your belongings with shaking hands and trembling fingers. The echoing of the man’s heavy boots rang with each step he took, but it was reassuring—it meant he was getting further and further away. 

It wasn’t until your hand met the sturdy door that fear crept back along the edges of your chest. 

“Your name?” 

The words were powerful, gravelly, but they were soft somehow. Effortfully tamed. 

You gave him your name, but the sound was lost in the swinging of the door.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + thirty five

authors note: hopefully, after this one, a lot of things will make sense. long-term storytelling, friends.....i know what i'm doing.

cw/tw: angst, graphic violence, attempted and real violence against women and children, scenes regarding sexual assault, and discussion of csa.

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

cast+ masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 13k 

The second Solana didn’t answer the phone when he called, Roman knew something was very, very wrong.

Solana always answers his calls and texts, and every single one of those outreach attempts by the Tribal Chief goes unanswered.

So, it’s not him being notified that there was an “incident” at the library where she works and he knew she was, that triggered him. It wasn’t even Bautista not answering his phone. It was being hit with the sound of Solana’s sweet voice via her voicemail that he just knew something bad had happened.

And, it had him sick to his stomach. 

The minute Roman arrives at the taped off library, police and first responders surrounding the area, a crowd of individuals gathered, trying to see what’s happened.

Matteo and Dwayne in tow, Roman is barely on the steps when the all too familiar stench hits him.

Death.

It’s the smell of death, and it permeates the environment, bypassing the roped off establishment, slapping him in the face the minute he walks in and is met with the grisly sight.

A sight that makes Dwayne mutter, “Jesus Christ….”

Bodies almost lined up, stacked against and with each other. Some overlapping. Some right beside each other. The coroner has clearly yet to arrive, as they’re all still uncovered, revealing the gristly details of their demise. Riddled with bullets, gaping holes telling the onslaught was something similar to a firing squad.

But, it’s two bodies in particular that draw the attention of the three men. Separate from the rest, faces grotesquely disfigured, their shirts ripped open and revealing their chests that are also riddled with bullets. It’s not that horrific site that has Roman crouching down for a better examination.

It’s what’s been carved into what remains of their chests that has his blood boiling. A symbol.

A symbol that he knows all too well.

The Nightmare Factory.

Matteo is saying something, either to him or Dwayne, but Roman is too consumed with a level of rage he’s never felt before.

“Rhodes.” It’s a simple word filled and consumed with an almost ungodly amount of hatred. “Rhodes is behind this.”

Cody Rhodes is responsible for this attack, this violent, grisly attack that claimed the lives of so many, two of his best men included, and even more, the kidnapping of his wife.

Because Roman has lived long enough to recognize the optics of this situation. The place where his wife works was attacked, countless people killed, and yet his wife is nowhere to be accounted for. Not to mention that a calling card, a message was clearly left, letting him know exactly who was behind this. 

It all points to one thing, and one thing only.

Cody fucking Rhodes has taken Solana.

He’s taken his pregnant wife.

“I don’t know.” It’s Matteo’s voice. That much Roman can make out. Nothing else, because the amount of rage burning within his big body is on the verge of an explosion. “Something feels off about—“

“Let me through!”

The voice of the one man Roman both hates and loves to hear in this moment. The Tribal Chief stands up and turns around to see the man of the hour who’s just zoomed past the barricade of cops zoning off the area.

Or, supposed to be. 

And, in yet another twist that no one could have seen coming, an almost deranged Cody makes his way directly towards Roman, screaming almost wildly, “you evil son of a bitch!”

Wrong….fucking…..words.

Naturally, both Matteo and Dwayne move to prevent Cody from swinging on Roman, but it makes no difference, because the Head of the Table easily bulldozes his way in between them and makes a beeline for his target.

Roman’s powerful punch sends Cody flying flat on his ass. Roman wastes no time jumping on top of him, big hands wrapped around his neck. “WHERE IS SHE!” 

A roar of a question that travels through nearly every floor of the library. It’s met with Cody’s hands grasping at Roman’s forearms, trying to pry himself free from the other man’s iron grip. When that fails to work, he takes advantage of Roman’s focus on choking the life out of him to lift his leg, knocking Roman off.

And in a matter of seconds, the roles are switched, Cody landing a rather nasty blow to Roman’s right cheek. “Where’s Brandi and Emma!”

As Dwayne and Matteo move to separate the powerhouses, the latter of the two starts to put the confusing out of place pieces together.

Yanking Cody off his brother, restraining the other man as Dwayne does the same with Roman, Matteo's younger brother barks, “WHERE THE HELL IS SHE!”

Naturally, Cody growls back, seemingly unbothered in the face of a borderline mad man. "Where's my wife!”

And, it’s in both men asking the same thing yet again that it clicks for Matteo, prompting him to shout, “would you both just wait a damn minute!”

Of course, neither man is trying to listen, both continuing to fight like hell to break free before they can rip each other apart and fall right into the trap that’s clearly been laid out for them.

Even if they’re both too blinded by rage and grief to see it.

“Listen to me!” Matteo hisses, his voice borderline venomous. He forces Cody’s gaze on him, putting two and two together. “Your wife and daughter have been taken.” And then, redirection to Roman. “And your wife has been taken.” Able to grasp his younger brother‘s attention, Matteo doesn’t waste the opportunity. “If Cody is truly the one responsible for this kidnapping, what sense does it make for him to show up and be here right now?”

Then back to Cody who is no longer thrashing as hard against him, “and if Roman was responsible for the kidnapping of your family, why would he be out here in the open right now, showing his hand?” He looks between the two men whose faces reveal they’re both at least trying to consider Matteo’s assessment. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Dwayne also seems to be biting but gestures with his head to the desecrated bodies. “But what about the Nightmare insignia?”

At that, Cody barks a confused, “what?”

It’s only them that Matteo releases him and motions over to the fallen Bloodline men. Cody walks over, the other three never taking their eyes off him.

Matteo especially watches as his face fills with confusion before he looks over, speaking directly to the Tribal Chief. “I didn’t order any hit.” He takes it to another level, clarifying with an almost clenched jaw. “And, I damn sure didn’t kidnap your wife.”

“And, he didn’t kidnap yours,” Matteo informs, recognizing his brother is far too irate still to offer any sort of response. “But, someone did.” 

“And they just wanted you to think each other did,” Dwayne supplies, fully following and believing Matteo’s train of thought. The same way, with excellent peripheral vision, he’s followed the subtle change in body language of the guards who have watched quietly, without any overt reaction to the scene before them.

The same way Roman and Cody, even in the midst of their unbridled fury, noticed the brief shared look between two of their guards.

Bloodline and Nightmare Factory.

Matteo also noticed, commenting in that same unsuspecting tone. “They wanted to draw you both out at the same time….”

“At the same place,” Dwayne finishes for him, again giving away nothing.

And then, chaos. 

It’s almost like a scene out of a movie, something that defies logic and science with how fast the four men whip out the guns they all have on them.

How one minute, the four are involved in a tense exchange amongst one another, and the next, they’re shooting down the same men who should be there protecting and watching them.

Bodies crumble and fall to the floor as the four men are relentless and merciless, nothing but headshots as they skillfully maneuver and evade the returned fire.  Hiding and dodging the rain of gunfire, each man ends up partially hiding behind some sort of object as they smartly aim for the guards that attempt to enter the premises, dropping them before they can step foot in.

The unlikely group manage to shoot their way out of the front of the library, the previously nosy crowd scrambling and running for their lives amongst the gunfire.

“Come on!” Dwayne guides and ushers them toward the SUV after the last cop is dropped, nothing but bleeding, deceased corpses surrounding them. “We need to get the fuck out of here before they send more.”

“He’s not coming with us,” Roman growls, ripping the front door open.

“Yes, he is,” Dwayne protests, earning a look that would absolutely kill, if possible, from his younger cousin. “Look, we need to find out just what—”

Cody, however, is not here for it just as much as the Tribal Chief isn’t. “I’m not going anywhere with you pieces of—” An abrupt interruption followed by his body starting to crumple, only to reveal a bored and irritated looking Matteo, clearly having done them all a favor with a single, effective knock to the back of the head.

The Italian man curses. “He talks too damn much.” Matteo doesn’t waste any time in shoving Cody’s unconscious body into the back of the car, directing to Dwayne. “We need to go to my house.”

“Why?” Roman asks, partially present, mostly elsewhere. So much has happened in under the span of an hour, even more in just the past twenty minutes. And the thought that keeps booming in his head, keeps oscillating, poking and torturing him is the most unbelievable and terrifying of them all.

Solana has been taken. 

His wife, who he swore to protect with everything in him, has been taken.

And though nothing would bring him greater joy than to beat Rhodes to a bloody pulp until he fesses up where she is, Matteo and Dwayne are right.

It doesn’t make sense.

Rhodes is an evil son of a bitch, but he’s not stupid. He would never make such a risky move and follow up with a public appearance. He’d make sure to throw that stone and hide the hell out of his hands. Even more, there’s something to be said about the fact that Rhodes wife and child have also been taken.

Something tells Roman the blonde bitch isn’t lying about that. The feral, almost devastated look in his eyes revealed as much.

It’s the same look Roman’s had since realizing what’s happened.

“We’re being hunted down and targeted,” Matteo answers as the four men are in the vehicle, Dwayne driving them to what Roman would guess is Matteo’s house. “They’re more than likely to have gone after my wife as well.”

Dwayne chuckles darkly. “Their death wish.”

Roman is once again tuned out, eyes closed, forehead against the window of the SUV. 

Solana.

His sweet, innocent wife who he just saw hours earlier, who was excited about sharing so many things with him this evening, is gone. 

Taken.

Kidnapped.

Missing. 

How did this happen?

“What the fuck is going on?” Ava’s confused, irritated, angry voice rips Roman from his thoughts, as he realizes it’s coming through the speakers of the SUV. Dwayne, who’s driving them now to Matteo’s house, has called her. 

“You were attacked.” A statement, not a question from Dwayne. He then jumps to an absolute question, “you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m—I’m fine.” A bit of a frazzled response, the anger coming down and settling into more of reality setting in. “My place is a disaster, but I guess that’s a given with all the dead bodies.”

A bit of a grim visual for the Tribal Chief, though he finds himself both pleased and unsurprised. Though Ava keeps a bit of a distance from the dark side of the business, much like everyone else in his family, she can defend herself. 

She can defend herself very well.

“Someone needs to answer my question though,” she interrupts, the anger building back up again. “Why the hell did our men attack me?”

“It’s a coup,” Roman speaks for the first time, gaze focused outside the window, watching the passing cars. “Someone’s trying to overthrow me.” No emotion attached. Just laying of the facts. Until the next thing that comes out of his mouth. “They’ve—they’ve taken Solana.”

Silence on the other end. “What?” A heavy, shaky sigh. “Oh my God….”

Roman closes his eyes. The sentiment is shared.

More than anyone could ever realize.

“Ava, where are you?” She shares an approximate location, as she’s also driving around, trying to put as much distance between herself and her home. “I need you to listen to me carefully.” Dwayne grabs his phone, expertly navigating the device in his hand and the steering wheel in the other. “I just sent you an address. I need you to go straight there. Don’t text, call or talk to a single fucking soul. Only answer your phone if it’s me, Matteo, or Roman. You understand me?”

“Got it.” The most affirmative her voice has sounded in the entire call. “But, what—”

“Wait.” Another interruption from Roman. Dwayne has just set his phone back down as he glances between the road and his cousin. Roman directs his next statement to Ava. “I need you to stop somewhere first.”

—-----

Pain.

That’s the first thing Solana feels as she slowly blinks her eyes, coming to. It’s a sensation that’s focalized in her wrists, face, and the back of her head. Throbbing and stinging in three separate areas. Sensations that dominate her wherewithal as she slowly ascends to consciousness. Eyes now completely open, she blinks a couple times, an almost old, stale odor invading her senses. Frowning and scowling, Solana looks around, recognizing the almost abrasiveness against her cheek. The floor. It’s from the aged, concrete flooring. And, the difficulty she has in sitting up is mostly due to the fact that her hands are bound in front of her with zip ties that are digging into her skin, small specks of scraped and bloodied skin visible as she assesses the tight hold.

Slight panic builds up in her from being restrained and unable to feel her belly. Touch her baby bump. A self-soothing gesture that will help alleviate her nerves regarding the safety of her babies. But, she can’t. Bound and restricted, she’s delegated to a sort of common sense train. The only solace in her stemming from the fact that she feels no pain or discomfort anywhere near her abdominal area.

That’s one issue somewhat tackled.

But, there’s so many more left.

And, they all come rushing into her with the devastating weight and depth of a category 5 hurricane.

The library. Brandi and Emma. The invasion of both Nightmare and Bloodline men alike. Solo. Bron.

Tears fill her eyes. 

Sami

Bautista 

Dead.

The children whose fate she can only hope was different from the two men who so bravely risked and lost their lives trying to save others.

Roman.

That’s when the tears threaten to spill over, and Solana has to work harder than she ever has in her life to keep it together. 

He’s fine. 

He’s fine.

He’s fine.

She has to tell herself this. Can believe nothing else. Because, anything else is surely enough to drag her to the inescapable depths of emotional hell.

She’s certain she’ll concede to the nervous breakdown she’s on the verge of from what’s happened alone if she allows herself to think about something happening to her soulmate.

Sitting up and looking around, Solana does her best to pull from and implement some of her therapy skills. She’s a mess right now, and while anyone in her situation would be and feel just the same, Solana doesn’t have that luxury. She doesn’t have that luxury because of the two lives growing inside her. 

She has to keep it together.

For her girls.

Like her life depends on it. 

Because their lives depend on it.

The room she’s in is old, dark, shabby, and dreary. A cot is in the corner with a raggedy blanket, but outside of that and a rusty looking desk and chair on the other side, there’s nothing else. Nothing but the dark, heavy looking door that’s shut and the window above her that informs her it’s daytime, given the natural sunlight that shines through.

It doesn’t make a difference.

There’s no sun or anything sunny about what’s occurred.

Only darkness.

Solana is searching and looking around the room, eager and almost desperate for anything that could distract her from how broken she feels when a sound startles her.

It’s coming from across her. 

The door.

Fear partially paralyzes her as she watches the knob turn, her breath withheld, gaze focused as a figure appears in the doorway, almost entirely eclipsing anything beyond said door with their robust figure.

And just like that, fear gradually chips away and is built up with a new set of emotions.

Confusion and anger.

Solana can’t look away, her voice barely above a breath, as she speaks from the heart. From visceral emotion. “You son of a bitch….”

Rikishi's expression is smug. “You’re up.” A generic, calm, almost friendly acknowledgement. Solana catches a glimpse of the guards behind him departing, shutting the door for him, leaving the two of them alone. She can’t, won’t look away as he moves to sit at the rinky-dink chair in the corner of the room. “Can I get you anything?” The cruel, taunt in the wake of his smirk only spikes her anger to another level.

She sneers, appalled, shocked, disgusted, horrified. “You’re behind this.” 

Rikishi’s smile deepens. “Surprise.”

Solana feels sick. “Where is my husband?” It’s just one of many questions she has, but the location—and status—of her husband is the most important. 

Rikishi chuckles. “You mean is he still alive?” The delay in his answer is the longest 30 seconds of Solana’s life. “Yes, Roman still lives.” As much as she hates showing her relief at his answer, she can’t help it. Should she believe him? Probably not. He could be lying. He’s obviously a lying snake, but in this moment, she needs to believe him. She needs to believe that her husband is still alive.

She needs the hope.

“For now, at least.” And just like that, the hope is dashed, dread filling her. “It’s only a matter of time before he shows up, guns blazing because we took his precious little wife.” Rikishi's sick, demented smile returns. “And, then we’ll have him right where we want him.”

There’s something about the ‘we’ that triggers something for her, makes her curious as to just how deep this betrayal goes, but the priority is rather on something else implied in his statement. A cruel, terrifying realization. 

“A trap,” she whispers, the color almost draining from her face. “It’s…it’s a trap.”

They’ve taken her to draw out Roman.

To trap him.

Solana shakes her head, refusing, unable to believe him. To listen to him. “He won’t—he won’t fall for it.” No. Roman is too smart for that.

“You really are a stupid girl, aren’t you?” Rikishi laughs, humor nowhere to be found in the sound that leaves his rotund body. “Of course, he will. Roman can’t see or think straight when it comes to you. He’ll show up here, alone, outnumbered, thinking he’s going to save you—”

Solana’s eyes water. “No.”

“And, he’ll be alone, because we’ve swept the rug from under him. He knows he can’t trust his own Bloodline anymore, and that’s gotta be killing him right about now. That and the fact that his weak little wife has been taken. He’s not thinking straight.”

She whimpers, eyes closing, tears streaming. “Stop it.”

“And who does he have left? Fucking Dwayne and a brother he refuses to acknowledge?” Rikishi snorts. “He has nothing.” He tilts his head to the side, pride filling him seeing the toll his words are taking on the young girl. “And really, as much as it’s your fault, in that same breath, we also have you to thank for this.” Rikishi leans forward in the chair, shrugging one shoulder. “Sure, you fucked up with the original plan—”

Solana’s eyes shoot open. "What?” When he says nothing, she has to ask again, all the while hating how destroyed she sounds. “What—what are you talking about?”

Delight fills his face. “Where do you think your father got the plan from in the first place for you to kill Roman?” Solana might as well have been shoved and slammed into the wall behind her. It would have the same impact as his words. “It was all supposed to be so much more simpler than this, really. You wouldn’t even have had to get close enough to gain his trust. Didn’t need it. Just slip the poison in his food.” The bile building up in Solana’s throat is on the verge of morphing into vomit. “But, of course, my little cousin had to throw us for a loop. He cut off your contact with your family, so we had no idea what was going on….until we did.”

She wants to say something, anything, but words seem a thing no longer accessible for her, prompting him to continue.

“I could see it. The way he started to feel something for you. To care for you.” Disgust is his countenance. “Love.” But, just as quickly as he was disgusted, he’s gleeful. “And then a new opportunity was presented. A first. Because for the first time, the great Roman Reigns had a weakness.” She closes her eyes. “So, a new plan was formed. One that would finally uproot that arrogant son of a bitch from his throne and allow a new era. A better one.”

Solo. 

She’s a terrible mess of emotions, but that one indication is baffling to her. Does he really think Solo is fit to lead the Bloodline? But, it’s a short-lived thing, because what gnaws at her is his accusation. A truthful statement, if she’s being honest with herself.

She has become Roman’s weakness. The one way to get to him, and it’s worked.

It’s worked to a depressing T.

Solana is still filled with so many questions, but a single word sits at the tip of her tongue, spilling over. “Why?” That’s the part she can’t seem to grasp. This plan has clearly been in the makes for months, so it can’t be because of what happened after Fetu’s funeral. So, just what has driven this man to such a diabolical, evil course of action. “Why are you doing this to him? He’s done everything for the Bloodl—”

“He should have never been the one to lead!” Rikishi snaps, banging his fist on the table. “Not Roman. Not Nakoa. None of them!” He continues, Solana remembering that Nakoa was Roman’s father. “It should have been me and my sons. And, it would have, if he had just died like the rest of them that night.”

It’s then. In that moment, with that one telling, revealing statement, Solana puts the devastating, heartbreaking pieces together. “Oh my God….” Her eyes are traveling everywhere before setting on evil personified. “It was you, wasn’t it?” Rikishi lifts his chin, an almost unspoken acknowledgment. “You….you were behind the hit?”

Calling it a 'hit’ seems too minimizing. Massacre. It was a massacre.

Rikishi simply huffs. “I simply made Dusty aware that Nakoa planned to turn on him. The idiot was too stupid and fearful of losing his growing empire to realize it was all lies. Such a weak ass man. It was far too easy to plant the seeds. I just had to watch them grow.”

“Oh my God…” Solana repeats, as a new wave of tears builds up. Rikishi. He was the one behind it all. The reason Roman lost his family, and almost his life. It was because of his own flesh and blood. 

The same flesh and blood behind the most current attempt to take out her husband once more. To put him down.

For good this time.

“I won’t—I won’t let you hurt him,” she vows, shaking her head. She looks up, matching his dark, evil gaze. “I won’t.” Because he’s already caused her husband so much hurt, so much pain, it feels almost criminal for her to not do what she can to stop that. To save him.

A small smile followed by a laugh. Loud and hearty. “Oh, you stupid, stupid girl.” Rikishi stands up, walking over to her, Solana refusing to look away or cower, even as he bends over. “What are you gonna do? Huh?” Solana gasps loudly from the sudden, unexpected impact of his hand against her face. Her eyes clench shut from the stinging and throbbing. “You are nothing without Roman or the Bloodline.” His eyes burn with intense hatred and disgust, watching and enjoying how Solana struggles to lift her head. “You’re going to die just like him—”

She cries. “no.”

Solana winces when he grabs her by her jaw, squeezing, forcing her to look at him. “—but while Roman will leave a sort of legacy behind him, what will you have? Huh? Nothing!” He screams in her face, Solana closing her eyes, trying her best to block out his hurtful words. “You’ll have nothing, because you are nothing. We found you as a stupid, uneducated, naive, weak, broken bitch, and that’s exactly how you’ll die.”

—------------

It’s strategic. All of it. Necessary.

Parking a little up the road from where Matteo’s house sits, almost nestled back into a corner, surrounded by trees in the back. A forest of sorts. A forest that serves as the shielding used by the men who realize what idiocy comes with trying to pull up to the front of the house, especially given the SUV’s already parked out front.

Bloodline vehicles.

Once a good thing, now an omen.

Naturally, Matteo leads the charge, knowing the layout of his property better than the other two men, especially Roman who’d never been here prior to today.

A still unconscious Cody is left locked in the SUV. Not that Roman cares. Behind the kidnapping or not, that son of a bitch could drop dead for all the Tribal Chief cares.

Nonverbal communication and hand gestures as the three men smartly make their way into the home from the back. As they move inside, ready and prepared for whatever, it’s almost anti-climatic. Because, for Roman, at least, there’s a slight expectation for some Bloodline security to try to attack them.

Except, entering the spacious foyer of Matteo’s home, what they’re met with is a scene similar to the library. Bodies laid around. 12. Roman counts twelve. Each with a minimum of one gunshot wound. Execution style. Throats slashed. A few with obvious stab wounds in the chest.

In the heart.

“And, I’d just mopped these damn floors, too.” The sound of a voice, bored and feminine, draws the attention of the three men. Sitting down on the middle of the steps is none other than a dangerously calm looking Afia. Gun in one hand, bloody butcher knife in the other, the only indication she has of being involved in any sort of altercation is the splotches of blood splashed on her shirt and the weapons on her person. “I’m also offended they only sent twelve. I deserve at least twenty.”

Dwayne and Roman lower their guns, surveying the deceased once more to make sure they are, in fact, no longer among the living. Matteo is the first to respond, chuckling as he lowers his gun. “I suppose that’s the reason for the overkill, no?”

Afia makes a sound, rising from off the stairs where she stands, still with the gun and knife in hand. Her eyes are narrowed. Listening Watching. Waiting.

Once pleased and satisfied that the threats have all been eliminated, she responds. 

“The overkill is because they chose the wrong damn house.” A vicious statement accompanied by a murderous gleam in her eyes. “One of you want to tell me why?”

Matteo has other pressing concerns. “The children—”

“In the panic room,” she answers, seeing the relief cross his handsome face. “They’re safe.”

Roman looks away. He’d give anything for that to be the case with Solana right now.

“It’s a coup,” Dwayne answers, looking around, as if suspecting another onslaught of attacks. “Someone’s trying to overthrow Roman.”

“I think it’s more than just an overthrow,” Afia corrects, walking over and kicking one of the men so he’s on his back. She points down. “Is that not the insignia of the Bloodline?” A rhetorical question. She doesn’t need anyone to tell her what she already knows. “This is an inside job.” She directs her statement to Roman. “You’ve been betrayed.”

Words that he doesn’t need to hear. A realization Roman came to the minute he realized his men were about to turn their guns on him back at the library.

A weighty, heavy thing, but nothing that anchors him down as much as the next thing that comes out his mouth. “Solana’s been kidnapped.”

And, at that, Afia gives the first indication of any type of emotion. “What?” Roman looks away. “Well, we have to get her back—”

“We will,” Matteo assures. “We just need to sit down and figure out the how.”

“And, we need to get the hell out of here,” Dwayne’s expression is a little more pressing, as he continues to look around. Watchful. Cautious. “I have a place we can go. It’ll be safe. They won’t be able to find us.” 

Afia nods, Matteo and her disappearing to go retrieve the children from the panic room.  It’s when he’s alone with his cousin for the first time, Dwayne voices what he knows his younger cousin is thinking.

“Roman….” The other man is turned away, looking down, taking in the state and amount of deceased that surrounds them. “This isn’t your fault—”

“Yes, it is.” A pained, quiet, angry interruption. Dwayne watches the way Roman’s jaw clenches, how his eyes shut and his fist forms at his side. “I should have—I should have seen this coming.”

And, for the life of him, Roman doesn’t know how he didn’t. He’s always prided himself on being three, five, hell, even ten steps ahead. It’s how he’s stayed on top for so long, never giving his enemies the opportunity to advance on him. And now, everything he’s built, everything he’s worked for is crumbling down right in front of him.

And, he doesn’t mean the Bloodline.

“We always prepare for threats from the outside, uce. Not the inside—”

“But, I should have.” Another interruption as Roman turns to his cousin, the turmoil that eats him up loud and evident. “I’m supposed to be better than that. I should have been, but I wasn’t and now—”

“Hey.” Dwayne places a hand on his shoulder, forcing his distressed gaze on him. 

“She’s pregnant, Dwayne….”

“I know.” His voice is contrite and sympathetic, recognizing that it’s not just Solana Roman fears for. It’s for their children she’s carrying that, he prays with everything in him, is something she knows to keep hidden from her kidnappers. By whatever means necessary. “But, let me tell you something about that wife of yours, uce. She’s got some fire in her. If anyone can handle this, can manage until we can get to her, it’s Solana.”

As objectively reassuring as Dwayne’s words are, they don’t do much to abate the fear and nerves of the Tribal Chief.

Because Roman has a nagging, almost gut-like feeling that someone isn’t making it out of this alive, and he doesn’t care if it’s him. 

He’ll just be damned if it’s her.

And, if he is the one to fall, he’s dragging every son of a bitch involved with this coup with him to the gates of hell.

—------

Solana knows exactly the last time she felt this way.

Heavy. 

Hurting. 

Hopeless. 

It was the night of her second suicide attempt.

In this moment, she doesn’t feel suicidal. Has no desire to take her own life. She just feels a tremendous, overwhelming amount of grief. Grief at what occurred then, what’s about to occur, and what still remains to occur.

It’s all so devastating. 

Solana knows evil. Was raised by it for a good chunk of her life. But, there’s just something she can’t fathom about Rikishi being able to parade himself as this trusted advisor to Roman, an ally, a friend, a cousin, all the while knowing he was responsible for the vicious murder of Roman’s family.

That he also tried to kill Roman once but failed.

And, now he’s trying again.

That makes her cry a little harder. Maybe a lot harder. It goes back to that helplessness, the suffocating feeling of having all of this information and no way to get it to him. To provide him with the truth, to give him a warning, something, but none of it is an option. It’s not an option, because she has no idea where she is and no way to contact him or anyone. Hands still bound, she doesn’t need them to feel in her back pocket to see her phone is no longer there.

Most likely taken or fell out at some point during her kidnapping.

Again, hopeless.

Solana jumps once more when the door is swung open with so much force that it slams against the wall behind it. She’s ready and prepared for Rikishi to enter, only for it to not be him and someone else. Two people. One she recognizes, and the other she does not. It's a tall white man with an intimidating, muscular build, ropes of muscles for arm. But, it's not his physique that makes Solana nervous. It's the way his bright blue eyes settle on her. Predatory. It sends chills down her spine, an uneasy feeling overcoming Solana, forcing her to focus on the person she knows.

Brandi.

But, whatever discomfort she’d felt from the man’s unsettling stare is quickly replaced with an overwhelming amount of dread and horror taking in the appearance of Emma's mother. Brandi’s face is bruised, her lip busted, and her clothes are disheveled, but it’s the empty, almost dazed look in her eyes that Solana knows all too well.

And the realization is crushing. 

Solana gasps when the man just tosses Brandi down onto the floor, offering a look of disgust to the woman he just discarded as if she was trash and a look of nothing good to Solana. However, it’s not until he slams the door shut behind him that Solana does her best to get up, an almost impossible task with her baby bump as well as her wrists still being bound.

“Brandi….”

Solana watches how Brandi offers no sign of acknowledgment, just crawls over to the nearest wall and pulls her legs up to her chest, a sign of pain flashing across her battered face as she settles into a fetal position.

Solana’s chest tightens. She knows exactly what Brandi is feeling right now. Numb. It’s a numbness that feels like everything and nothing at the same time, a deep, guttural scream lying within the confines of shock from trauma.

A trauma Solana knows all too well.

“Brandi, please—”

“Just leave me alone.” A whispered, pained thing. Empty and hollow.

Solana swallows. “I–”

“This is all your fault.”

Five words. A simple sentence. One hell of an impact.

The tightening in Solana’s chest only intensifies, just as the tears brewing threaten to spill down her face for the umpteenth time today. “Wh–what?”

It’s only then that Brandi looks up, that hollowness replaced with indescribable anger. And pain. “I’m here because of you.” Her bottom lip trembles as she lifts one hand, pointing to the door. “My baby is somewhere out there because of you.” Her volume increases as she gestures to herself with a trembling hand. “I was just rap—” Her eyes close, her entire body shaking as she breaks out in sobs, hands covering her face. 

And, in that moment, while Solana’s heart swells with a tremendous amount of empathy, of heartbreaking understanding.

She can do nothing else, she can say nothing else.

Because, Brandi isn’t entirely wrong.

She’s not entirely wrong at all.

—----------

It’s about 45 minutes into the drive that Roman realizes where Dwayne is taking them all, and initially, he’s irritated, not necessarily because of where they’re going and more because of the fact that they have to go there.

In hiding.

Because, they are.

Because, they no longer know who to trust.

Roman no longer knows who to trust.

After driving for a total of almost two hours, they arrrive at their destination.

Roman steps out of the parked SUV at the same time as Dwayne. Out the corner of his eye, he sees Matteo and Afia helping the children out the Escalade that they drove. 

“Well, ya’ll look like shit.” 

Beer in hand, bid body leaning against the pillar on his porch, Steve Austin’s gaze is assessing and judgmental. Typical for the man whose attitude could only be matched by his ferocity in the field.

A legendary mercenary who worked closely with Dwayne many years ago on countless assignments and missions but is now semi-retired working as a private firearm dealer.

Dwayne chuckles, taking the first step onto said porch. “We’ve seen better days.” His small smile morphs into something almost regretful. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Steve makes a sound, brushing off the unnecessary indirect apology. “All the times you saved my ass when we were out there young, dumb, hotheads? Don’t mention it.” He directs his attention then to Roman, also looking something close to repentant. “Real sorry to hear about what’s happening.”

Roman says nothing. What does someone being and feeling sorry for him do?

Not a damn thing.

The door to the house busts open, revealing a flustered Ava who has a slight cut on her eyebrow. Her focus immediately lands on Roman, who she makes a beeline over, pulling him into a hug.

“We’re gonna get her back,” she whispers in his ear, holding him close and tight.

Again, nothing is said. 

He’d give anything to feel that way, because right about now, Roman can’t deny the helpless feeling building and budding inside of them.

He does have to ask, trailing off, “did you….”

Ava nods. “She’s upstairs sleeping.”

Roman nods.

One.

That’s one thing he can feel slightly relieved about.

Dulce.

Dulce is safe, Roman asking Ava to pick her up from the groomers, because Solana being kidnapped is one thing, but he’ll be damned if he lets anything happen to her dog who she loves more than anything.

The same dog he can admit, only to himself, he also loves.

Just then, the backdoor opens as a just-now-coming-to Rhodes exits, looking just as lost as he probably feels. Hand to the back of his head, he asks no one in particular. “Where the hell am I?”

Ava looks over at Cody with an undeniable amount of anger. Her gaze and question is then set to Roman. “What the hell is he—”

“It’s a long story,” he dismisses, asking Steve. “Can we come in?”

Finishing off his beer—probably the third of the day—he tosses it with zero regard. “Well, I sure as hell ain’t gon’ make ya’ll stand out here looking like a bunch of dumbasses.”

The group make their way into the house, Steve granting them privacy and Ava offering to take the kids upstairs with snacks and drinks so they also don’t have to overhear what’s bound to be a heavy conversation.

“So, what do we know?” Afia asks as the lot of them surround Steve’s large dining room table, Dwayne sitting at said table with his laptop open, attempting to access the Bloodline database.

A fruitless effort, given the quiet curse that leaves his mouth and the flashing red from the screen. Roman has never been tech savvy, but he knows enough to know that’s never a good sign.

“Solana, Brandi Rhodes, and Emma Rhodes, Brandi and Cody’s daughter were all kidnapped earlier this afternoon at the local library where Solana works and mother and daughter were visiting for some reason.” Matteo supplies, looking over at Cody. “Is it normal for her to go there—”

“No,” Cody answers immediately, pacing back and forth. “And, I don’t know why the hell she was there in the first place. I know….I know she went a couple months ago, and somehow Emma got separated from her, but from what Brandi told me, Solana found Emma and helped her find—”

“Wait, what?” Roman would like nothing more to kill Cody. For one reason. For no reason. For all the reasons. There’s a river of red and blood that’s too deep, too thick for them to ever see eye to eye, so it’s safe to say the Tribal Chief wasn’t listening to a damn thing the man was saying until he got to that part. “What do you mean Solana found her? They know each other?”

Cody looks over, shaking his head. “I don’t know specifics. Just that Brandi told me Solana helped Emma get back to her, and that Emma…she really liked her.” his voice trails off, his gaze focusing on the wall adjacent to him, emotion bubbling. He clears his throat, clearly remembering where he is and who he’s talking to. “I told her never to go back there after that, so for the life of me, I can’t figure out why she went back.”

Roman is quiet, not giving two shits about why the fuck Rhodes’ wife went against his orders and is more concerned with why and how Solana never told him about this. How no one in her security detail never thought to tell him.

How Solo, who was probably still her personal guard at the time, never said a thing.

And as if listening, a beep sounds from the computer.

"What is it?" Matteo inquires.

"It's a video conference request," Dwayne answers. He looks over at Roman. "From Solo."

Something unknown but heavy laps at Roman, an almost eerie knowing, as he mutters a quiet but firm. "Answer it."

Dwayne does just that, jabbing the button on the laptop, the group all waiting for the video to load.

And, then it does.

“Son of a bitch….” Is Dwayne’s hissed response at the sight of several men standing behind one man who sits in the middle, dressed in an all black suit with a red ula fala around his neck.

Solo.

It’s Solo.

But, he’s not alone, because Roman recognizes four of the men behind him.

Tama, Tonga, Jacob, and Rikishi.

All his family. 

All currently behind the violent siege underway.

“I’m going to fucking rip you to pieces,” Roman vows, hand fisting at his side as, in a matter of mere seconds, he went from feeling an array of emotions to just one.

Anger.

Nothing but anger.

All of them. 

He’s going to kill every single fucking one of them. Slowly. Painfully. Methodically. In every brutal, grisly way that he can think of.

Solo smirks, lifting his chin. “Roman Reigns.” A formal acknowledgement tinged with a hint of humor. “I think you’ve seen better days.”

Roman takes no one by surprise when the anger courses through his body manifests in him screaming out, “where is she!”

Rikishi makes a tsk tsk tsk sound. “You never were good with patience, huh?”

“Cut the shit, you two,” Dwayne practically growls, both him and Matteo doing their best to study the background to try to get some sense of where he might be located. The fucker is smart though, as it seems there’s some sort of black draping, intended to shield from that sort of detection. “Where’s Solana?”

Cody also cuts in with similar sentiments as Roman. “Where’s Brandi and Emma!”

Solo rolls his eyes. “That’s a question for your lil’ cousin, Rhodes.”

At that, Roman sees the way Cody’s face pales. “Bron?” And then, the anger. “Bron is behind this?”

“They both are,” Roman states, teeth gritted, putting the pieces together in real time. “They’ve been working together.”

Solo’s smirk confirms as such. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Why both the Bloodline and Nightmare Factory men turned on both him and Cody back at the library. An alliance of some sort has been formed between the former enforcers. 

“Roman isn’t fit to lead the Bloodline anymore,” Solo growls, fist on the table before him. “We need new leadership. It just so happened Bron felt the same about the Nightmare Factory."

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Roman snarls. “You can’t trust a fucking Rhodes!”

Solo’s smile is nothing shut of evil, his voice sickeningly sweet. “Just like you couldn’t trust us, huh?”

A blow.

It’s a fucking blow to the gut. To the chest. To the soul. Because Solo is right in that.

Roman couldn’t trust him, but he did, and it’s potentially cost him everything.

“But, aye, I’m a generous Tribal Chief, so imma do you a favor.” He stands up, gesturing for whoever is filming to follow him. “Come on.”

A maniacal laugh sounds from behind the camera, and in that single second, the situation progresses from bad to worse.

Roman would know that sound anywhere, but it’s an equally pissed Rhodes who identifies the person. “Seth...”

Roman’s eyes shut. Of course. Of course, they would recruit him for this. That psychotic son of a bitch has no love for Roman nor Cody, believing himself a “victim” and “abandoned” by both of them. Roman’s caution is upped a notch with this new piece of information.

Seth is the definition of a wild card. Whatever role he plays in this whole thing can’t be minimized nor downplayed.

They’re moving down a dimly lit hall, and Roman can see out of the corner of his eye Afia taking notes, clearly trying to document as much of the space as possible. Trying to narrow down a potential location.

Helpful but maybe not necessary.

Solo finally arrives in a dingy looking room that’s filled with more of Roman's men, his former Bloodline, armed and ready.

But then, Roman’s world shatters. 

“Solana…”

He sees her. Solana. She’s alive, but her face is red and bruised, a cut on her cheek, dried blood caked on her pretty skin. He searches her body for any other sign of injury, but it’s impossible to do so given the oversized hoodie, jeans, and sneakers she wears.

He has no idea how to know about….about the girls.

It kills him.

But, that’s nothing compared to when he realizes just what’s happening. She’s being dragged by her hair into the room where fucking Tama throws her to the ground, Solana landing on her palms.

“You asked for her, right?” Solo mocks, a cruel grin on his face. “Here she is.” He barks at Tama to pick her back up. “Aye, Solana, you remember that?” 

The camera switches from the scene of Solana being yanked up once again by her hair to a medium large stainless steel bucket that Roman can see is filled with water. Instantly, he knows what’s about to happen.

“I swear to God, Solo, if you—” He’s stopped by the camera panning to Solana who was clearly looking in the direction of the camera, probably hearing his voice, but now it’s directed toward her.

Catches the moment she sees the bin and also knows what's about to occur.

“No.” Her eyes are wide and filled with fright that practically cripples him. “No!” Solana cries, instantly moving to try to break free as Tama leads her over to the bucket. “No, please!”

“Solo, please—” Roman finds himself begging almost. He doesn’t give a fuck. He’ll do whatever it takes. Because Solana being subjected to that, to the torture she worked so hard to escape, it kills him. His pride doesn’t exist in that moment.

“What kind of weak man goes after an innocent woman, huh?” Matteo barks, the anger felt amongst the group of them nothing compared to the pain that fills Roman.

He was supposed to protect her.

He promised to protect her.

And now, look.

He’s failed her.

He’s failed her just like he failed his family.

Soalna’s screams and cries haunt him, Roman preparing to plead, whatever it takes, when a new voice is heard.

“Aye! What you doing, man!”

Chills. 

No.

The day’s events must be taking their toll on Roman, because there’s no way—

And then, he sees it.

Sees how the camera pans to a furious looking Jey who grabs Tama, punching him out and putting himself between Solana and their cousin. Solana scrambles away to the nearest wall, eyes closed, hand over her chest, obviously trying to settle her nerves.

“What the hell is this, Solo!” Jey shouts as Tonga restrains Tama from striking back. “You ain’t say it was gonna be all of this! I ain’t sign up for this shit!”

There’s a rush of emotions running through Roman in this moment for a variety of reasons. He can hear the shocked, angry responses of those around him, see how Solo chides his older brother for being so “weak,” but all of that pales in comparison to how Roman’s chest tightens seeing Solana scream out in fear when Jey moves toward her.

“Don’t touch me!” She shouts, shaking her head. “How—how could you do this to us?” She sounds every bit as hurt and betrayed as he feels. “How could you do this to Roman?”

The same question probably shared amongst the group helplessly watching the horrors unfold. 

“God, you're so goddamn annoying."

A new voice added to the conversation.

Also, not unfamiliar.  

Samantha appears in frame, but she’s not alone. She’s roughly holding the arm of a young, crying child. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together to figure out who said child is.

Cody’s shoulders drop. “Emma!”

Emma is crying, face red and ruddy. “Where’s my mommy!” She cries harder when Samantha tosses her to the ground. “I want my daddy!” 

It’s a gut-wrenching scene to watch, for sure, but while a devastated Cody tries to gather the attention of his terrified daughter, Roman can only focus and watch as Solana gets up and rushes over to Emma, holding and cradling her.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” she comforts. Roman sees the way Emma holds onto her, clearly feeling safe with his wife. A strange, almost solemn scene. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

A sneering Sam advances over to Solana and Emma, but Solana is quick, easily maneuvering Emma behind her.

“Don’t you dare touch her,” Solana hisses, shoulders squared, voice firm. It’s a bit of a shift for Roman, something close to surprise and pride filling him. It’s such a switch. The fear that had Solana cowered in the corner is nowhere to be seen as she puts herself between this child who she doesn’t even know, not well anyway, and a woman clearly intent on no good.

Samantha scoffs, stepping forward. “Move.” A sick smirk appears on her face as she lifts up a folding knife, effectively stilling the Tribal Chief. Fuck. “Or maybe I’ll just do us all a favor and kill you now.”

Roman isn’t sure what he expects his wife to do. He just knows that it kills him to have to watch all of this unfold and not do anything about it.

Not be able to protect her.

And then, it happens. Almost too quick. Solana’s speed seems to defy logic. Her forearm against Samantha’s neck, throwing her off balance, forcing her to drop the knife that Solana doesn’t hesitate to grab. And with continued swiftness, Solana suddenly has the upper hand. She’s holding Samantha’s arms behind her back, the knife in Solana’s hand pressed dangerously into her back, possibly drawing blood given the wince on Sam’s face.

Mouth near her ear, Solana hisses, loud enough for all to hear. “I’d like to see you try, bitch.”

She shoves and kicks her away, expertly retracting the knife that disappears in the sleeve of her hoodie. 

Impressed isn’t exactly the right word to use to describe what Roman feels. There’s nothing impressive about what’s happening, but a small sense of relief does build in him in seeing that even in this midst of what’s happened, Solana hasn’t lost it.

Hasn’t lost that fight and fire she’s worked so hard over the past months to build.

“You got this, Sol…” Afia whispers, loud enough for him to hear. “Don’t give up.”

A shared sentiment. 

But, as Samantha gets up and prepares to lunge for Solana, Jey once again stands in front of Solana who continues to protect Emma.

“You ain’t putting your fucking hands on her.”

Words that Roman would like to find reassuring, but he can’t. He can’t, because Jey is a part of this whole thing.

He’s clearly picked his side, and it’s not Roman’s.

Solo makes a sound, big face back in the screen. “As you can see, there’s a lot going on.” He blows out a breath, as if overwhelmed by it all. As if this isn’t all his doing. “But look, Imma’ cut right to the point.” There’s movement from Solo walking out the room, camera focused only on him. “You got 48hrs to bring your ass here, so we can settle this once and for all. And to help you out, I’m gon send you the exact coordinates of where we are.” He then adds, as if remembering. “Same goes for your new buddy, Cody.”

It’s a difficult, almost painful thing for Roman to focus on what’s being said when all he can visualize is Solo’s bloody, gruesome corpse after Roman gets his hands on him. But then, he says it, he says what Roman’s emotions have blocked him from considering.

“And, I know you got a lot going on right now, but even you and that big ass ego you got can’t deny you already know how this gon’ turn out.” He rolls his shoulders, voice equally menacing as it is threatening. “Not only have you been outsmarted, but you’re outmanned, outnumbered, outgunned.” He smiles, once again, no trace of humor to be detected. “Who you got there? Dwayne? Matteo? Rhodes?” He laughs, humorlessly. “You have nothing.”

Matteo and Dwayne say something in response, but Roman does not. He says nothing, because there’s nothing to say.

Solo is right.

Roman has been betrayed and turned on by the people closest to him, his Bloodline, maybe even the Cosa Nostra at this point. He doesn’t even fucking know anymore. He just knows, for the first time in his life, he’s been backed into a corner and the way out seems to be a far off, distant, nearly impossible thing.

“....And that’s not just a prediction—” Solo’s statement, familiar and close, snatches Roman away from his depressing realization. He looks off camera, only for another figure to fill the frame, Roman’s devastation deepening.

Paul’s smirking frame takes up the entire shot. “It’s a spoiler.”

The screen goes black.

“Son of a bitc—”

Dwayne’s curse is silence by Roman tipping over a chair as he angrily marches outside the house through the backdoor and into the yard. He throws a nearby chair across the spacious yard, uncaring of any damage or destruction caused in the process.

His chest hurts, and his head throbs, consumed with swimming, overwhelming thoughts.

They’ve betrayed him. Every fucking person he thought he could trust has all turned on him.

They’ve all fucking betrayed him.

Eyes shut, breathing heavy, Roman has to place his hand over his chest to settle himself. It’s too much. 

Too fucking much.

Heavy footsteps behind him give away the person present, but Roman isn’t in the mood.

“Roman….”

“Not right now,” he grits out, on the verge of a panic attack. Or maybe a nervous breakdown. Or, hell, maybe a fucking heart attack. At this point, who fucking knows.

Dwayne sighs. “Roman, you—”

“WHAT!” Roman turns around and snaps. All of the emotions, the happenings, the loss, the betrayal finally bubbling over and erupting. Roman motions to nothing in particular, just the dark abyss of the wooded forest beyond Steve’s backyard. “He has the Bloodline! He has the Nightmare Factory! He has my wife!” It’s with that last acknowledgment Roman’s shoulders slump, the despair taking front row. His voice lowered, he clarifies. “My pregnant wife.” Premature defeat as well as an unfamiliar helplessness fills the devastated man’s voice, as he admits, “I have nothing to lose.”

Dwayne allows it. Allows him the moment to have this. To let it all hit him, heavy and crushing, but necessary, nonetheless. 

Because there’s no way in hell they can survive this with him suppressing all of his feelings.

“That’s bullshit, Roman, and you know it.” Dwayne finally speaks after a few minutes of silence. “You have everything to lose.” Dwayne points back to the house. “He has your wife, yes. He has the backing of the Bloodline. Maybe. But, you know what he doesn’t have? He doesn’t have your mind. He doesn’t have your ruthlessness. Doesn’t have your intellect. Solo’s a little bitch cosplaying as a grown man cause his fat ass daddy has bucked him up to think he’s fit for the job.” Dwayne continues, seeing and knowing his younger cousin well enough to know he’s taking in everything that’s being said. “He thinks he’s won, because he knows what Solana means to you, knows how much you love her, and he thinks it’s made you weak.”

“He’s right.” Matteo’s voice suddenly sounds from the steps leading into the house. “He’s playing a mind game with you.” Stepping down into the yard, he crosses his arms, adding, “he’s clearly been watching you. Studying you.”

When Dwayne gives him the nod of approval, a sign to continue, Matteo doesn’t waste it. “You must have a million and one emotions running through you right now. That’s okay. Hone it and use it. Use it to fuel your anger and your fury, because you’re going to need it to make it through this.”

Eyes shut, words marinating, there’s a settling of the previously spiking panic that’s minimizing and settling into something else inside of Roman. Something powerful and stirring.

“You’ve been betrayed. Clearly. From several angles, and that shit’s gotta hurt like hell coming from family.” Roman looks away. “But, you know as well as I do, that’s not the priority right now. The priority is getting Solana back and reminding those bastards why the biggest and last mistake they’ll ever make in life was crossing Roman fucking Reigns.”

To say this has been the worst day of his life would be an understatement. The worst day of his life would be more than welcomed over whatever this is. Regardless of how awful and hurt and lost Roman feels at all that’s occurred, the wise, sage words of his relatives are effective.

They tap into that part of him that hasn’t been needed in a while. The part of him that he’s always wanted to keep hidden away from Solana. The reason he’s as feared as he is.

Because, it’s needed.

Roman isn’t needed in this moment. Roman needs to rest and recover.

The Tribal Chief is who’s needed.

And, that’s exactly who Solo is going to get.

“We have to play this smart,” is Roman’s only acknowledgment of everything that was stated. He appreciates it, but to go beyond that would require a deeper amount of reflecting. He doesn’t have time for this shit. Doesn’t have time to be Roman Reigns right now. 

They made him into the ruthless, aggressive, merciless killer that he is, and that’s exactly who they’re about to receive.

“They have the numbers advantage,” Roman finishes. Because as lethal as the combination of himself, Dwayne, Matteo, and maybe Afia and Ava could be, it still pales in comparison to not only the Bloodline, but the Nightmare Factory. 

A big advantage.

Dwayne shakes his head. “Maybe not.” Both Matteo and Roman cast skeptical expressions as he vaguely answers. “I may have made a call.”

And just like that, Roman’s defenses are up again. “To who?”

A voice clearing from by the back door sounds, drawing the attention of all three men. It’s Ava. “So, Santos Escobar is here?

Roman easily shifts from cautious to irritated. “What the fuck, Dwayne?”

The older man lifts his hands in an almost defensive manner. “Look, I know you’ve got no love for Escobar, and the feeling is mutual, but you yourself told me he said Solana is also under the protection of the Legado Del Fantasma, so that means they’d be willing to help us.”

But, it mostly goes in one ear and out the other. Stubbornly, almost defiantly, Roman reiterates, “I don’t need his help.”

“Yes, you do, Roman,” Matteo cuts in, his voice almost gentle like. “Like you said, they have the number advantage. We have to try to even that up as much as we can.”

At that, his own words being used against him, Roman has no retort.

He has no retort because that nagging voice inside of him acknowledges that Matteo and Dwayne are right.

If there’s help to be offered, he would be a fool to decline it.

But, it’s almost impossible for him to not be chained down by both his pride and his trauma at once again being betrayed. At being in a place where the same man who he once thought he’d lay down his life for if the situation called for it, is working with the people hellbent on seeing Roman’s demise.

Solo and Rikishi’s betrayal is crushing.

Jey’s is shattering.

And Roman isn’t stupid. He knows how tense things with Jey have been, maybe always been to some extent, but this coup has clearly been a well plotted, planned thing for some time. Long before his issues with Jey stirred up again for round two.

When Roman thought they were fine, they weren’t. 

They very clearly weren’t.

Roman turns away, hands on his head as he blows out a deep breath. The battle between logic and trauma in the final round, tussling deep within his chest and soul.

And then a memory hits him, a scene from one of his many dreams rolling him into the battle for a paramount, necessary perspective switch.

Leya sniffles to the left of him. “You have to save her, daddy.”  His head snaps to her, confused by her words, confused by the fact that he’s not freaking out more, by the fact that he just somehow knows that Solana has been taken. “She won’t have much time.”

“Mommy can only fight with us for so long.” His attention switches to Lina, her comment leaving him just as perplexed as her twin. “You’re gonna have to trust them, daddy.”

“What?” He breathes. The weight on his chest is intensifying by the fucking second. “I don’t—”

“It’s the only way to save her.” Leyah reaches for his arm, her little mouth formed into a frown. “They’re gonna kill her if you don’t.”

His chest nearly explodes at that one word.

Kill

But, it’s when the next statement that leaves their mouths, at the same time, that does him over.

“And they’re gonna kill us too.”

The entire flashback to his ominous dream almost nightmare is overall unsettling in many ways, but there’s a certain part he can’t negate, that he can’t ignore.

“You’re gonna have to trust them, daddy.”

Trust.

Such a difficult, impossible thing for Roman, especially when it’s that same thing that has him in the situation he’s in now.

He trusted the wrong people, and now Solana—and his unborn daughters—are paying for it.

Roman closes his eyes.

Utilizing the words from his dream children from an actual dream as a guiding force might not be the best. It might even be crazy to some people, but he’s starting to believe that Solana was right when she said the dreams meant something.

Premonitions, almost. 

Needed for a time like this. 

Because, it’s all he has. 

“Okay.” 

A simple word. 

A powerful agreement.

Matteo and Dwayne exchange a look, neither willing or wanting to say anything to risk Roman backtracking. They simply guide him back into the house where, sure enough, Escobar waits with two men and one women trailing him. Roman recognizes the two men from being at the restaurant that day. 

He also recognizes the woman. 

Bayley.

And, she looks just as gutted as Roman feels. 

“That son of a bitch.” She shakes her head, fist at her side. “What kind of piece of shit goes after an innocent woman?”

Her question is presented to no one in particular. Just a necessary thing she clearly needs to get out, along with an array of other emotions. She angrily wipes at her teary eyes, looking away.

Santos gaze is leveled as he directs his question toward Roman. “Do you have her location?”

Dwayne answers. “Yes. An abandoned plant about two hours out from here.”

The shorter man nods, taking in the information. “Are you sure?”

“Solo sent us the coordinates.” Matteo supplies, already knowing he doesn’t need to say anything else after that. Santos look in response is telling enough. 

Looking directly at Roman, he states aloud, “he wants you to come.” 

Bayley whispers what everyone was thinking when Solo first announced he was sharing the address so willingly. “A trap.”

Roman says nothing. Trap or not, nothing could keep him from going to save his wife. Even if he had to go at it alone.

“Someone wants to speak to you.” Santos appearance was unexpected as hell, but such a statement leaving his mouth is at the top of the unexpected hill. “And, it’s not a request.”

Just like that, the anger is building up again in the Head of the Table. “Excuse me? Who the fuck—”

“Roman.” Matteo’s single word is layered with all the unspoken things. The reminder he needs. Priorities.

Biting his tongue and setting aside his pride, Roman grits out a reluctant, “fine.”

Santos and his men move quickly to set up an open laptop where Dwayne’s once was, motioning for Roman to take the seat previously occupied by his older cousin.

And, in a matter of minutes, the setup is completed. It’s the same crowd gathered around to watch and observe, sans Cody, who’d apparently gone out front.

For similar reasons as Roman, he’d guess.

It’s a similar setup to Solo and crew, but in this one, the background is obvious and visible. They’re in a conference room. A man sitting at the front of the table with another to the right of him, older and a bit heavier. There’s something familiar about him that Roman can’t put his hand on.

Santos speaks in Spanish to the men, and it’s then how Roman notices the improved posture of the latest guests. A sign of respect and reverence for whoever these men are, clearly.

“Roman Reigns,” the one at the head of the table speaks, his deep voice thickly accented. “Not exactly the circumstances under which I’d thought we’d meet, but an honor, nonetheless.”

If only Roman felt the same.

“Who the hell are you?”

But, while the majority of the room hit Roman with disapproving glances at his brusque response, the man on screen simply smiles. “Your reputation precedes you. I’m impressed.”

And, I don’t care.

Roman is just about to snap at Escobar for wasting his time when finally, a proper introduction is given. “My name is Domingo Lopez.” Right away, any trace of irritability felt within Roman is washed away and replaced with a sense of surprise and confusion. 

Roman knows that name very well. Anyone in the business does.

Domingo Lopez.

The head of the Gulf Cartel, the oldest and biggest Mexican criminal syndicate.

The same syndicate Roman has been trying and planning to meet with to discuss a possible alliance with for some weeks now. Months, maybe. But, something had always come up, either on Roman’s end or Lopez's end.

What a meeting, indeed.  

Domingo chuckles. “I take it you know who I am now.”

No shit. The shift in Roman’s tone is audible, even his body language. “I do.”

Domingo sits forward. “And you’re wondering what the hell it is I want with you.” He then gestures to the man beside him. “This is Tomas Escobar. Old man has served the Cartel for decades. A loyal aid to my father before he retired and a trusted guide for me since I took over so many years ago at the age of 18. Similar to yourself.” Roman is focused less on the connections and more the name.

He knows that name.

It was in the letter Solana let him read. The one from her mother. 

Tomas Escobar.

Her uncle.

Tomas is Solana’s great uncle.

And judging now by the slight similarities in appearance, Santos' father.

Still, making all of these connections is something Roman keeps to himself, instead asking a more relevant question that comes out as more of a statement. “You’re aware of what’s happened.”

Domingo nods. “I am.” He leans back into his seat. Roman would guess Santos informed his father, and his father made his boss aware. But, why?

“Normally, I would allow a select number of men to aid in this rescue effort you plan to undergo. Whatever men and resources within the Legado Del Fantasma would be your limit, but….but this is different.” He clasps his hands together, acknowledging. “Tomas has served me well, and Santos has also proven to be an effective leader. But, the truth of the matter is that what I am prepared to do is solely because of your wife, Mr. Reigns.”

Brows furrowed, Roman doesn’t hesitate to ask. “What do you mean?” 

“A few months ago, during your trip to Isla Mujeres, you and your wife met my daughter, Aurora.” Roman stills, instantly recalling the quiet little girl who’d taken a liking to him but especially Solana.

Shit. 

That same girl is Mexico’s biggest cartel leader’s daughter?

“Solana was kind to her, offering a simple gesture of kindness that has not only helped my little girl in more ways than you can imagine but my family as a whole.” He explains, voice shifting into something almost sentimental. A rare thing for such a man. “And for that, I owe your wife a great debt that I intend to make good on right now.”

“Solana may be an Escobar by blood and thus has the protection of the Legado Del Fantasma, but from here on out, she also will have the protection of the full Gulf Cartel as well.”

Roman is stunned into silence. What does he say to that?

“Right now, as we speak, I have several fleets of my best men and weapons headed your way. They should arrive in a few hours.” A wave of silence overcomes the entire room, a disbelief of sorts for almost everyone. Especially Roman. “Whatever else you need, ask, and it is yours.”

To say this day has been one of the most stressful of his life would absolutely be putting it lightly. Just this morning, everything was fine. By the afternoon, he felt like he was in hell. And now, he sits here before another of one of the most feared men on the continent, hearing that not only is the Cartel supplying the Tribal Chief with an army and unlimited resources, but there’s a standing invitation for support later down the road.

He’s fucking floored.

Domingo, however, isn’t done. “Mr. Reigns, you will bring your wife home safely, strike down anyone who was a part of this coup, and when the dust settles, we shall meet to discuss business.” He smirks, eyes alight with greed and anticipation. “An alliance with the Bloodline and Cosa Nostra will only strengthen our empires.” The same sentiment Roman had when his initial interest piqued in the Cartel. “But, I am only interested in securing that deal if it is you who sits at the head of the table, because as I said earlier, your reputation precedes you.” A beat. “And, as far as I am concerned, you are the only Tribal Chief.”

—-----------

The minute Solana is thrown back into the same room she was in before, where Brandi still lies there, silent and unmoving, she feels it.

Small, subtle, but present.

There’s a switch that’s occurred. A death and a rebirth.

She doesn’t feel the same sense of dread that had her feeling helpless and hopeless. Doesn't feel as empty and deterred. 

She feels the exact opposite. 

Determined.

Hopeful.

Angry,

And, it’s all because of a single little girl.

Emma.

Because when Samantha moved to hurt Emma, something snapped in Solana. It was like she was broken from the shackles of her despair and thrust into an overwhelming sense of urgency and protection.

Because, it wasn’t Emma’s crying, helpless face she saw.

It was herself.

Solana saw a younger version of herself.

She was that helpless, defenseless child.

But, she’ll be damned if she lets Emma suffer the same fate.

It’s why she stood so boldly and with confidence against Samantha, because that’s what she needs to make it out of this alive. And, she will. Because she made a promise. 

To herself. 

To her girls.

To her family

Her husband and unborn children that she’ll do whatever it takes to protect them. 

Because it’s when she was being dragged back to her cell by Nia, another accomplice in this nightmare, a memory hit her. A recollection of what, at the time, felt like a dream, but now, she most definitely knows and understands was not a dream.

It was a warning.

“Mommy.”

Solana is startled by the sudden presence of her girls. She never even heard them walk over. “Yes, baby?”

“You’re gonna protect us, right?”

Eyes crinkling with confusion, Solana adjusts her baby boy, lightly patting his back. “What–what do you mean, honey?”

Her oldest eyes watering only sets Solana off even more, as she looks to Roman for some assistance only to see he’s no longer there.

He’s gone.

Solana’s stomach drops as she turns her head, looking to see where he’s gone when her daughter moves a hand to the baby’s back. “You’re gonna have to fight for us.”

Solana is beyond confused right now. About it all. “I don’t—”

“Daddy’s not gonna be there. You have to do it, mama.” The quieter of the two taking a turn to speak, voice almost desperate and emotional only exacerbates the situation. Solana feels her own tears forming when her daughter reaches out her little hand, placing it on her shoulder. “And you can’t trust them.”

That’s when Solana really stills. Looking between the two who wear such troubled expressions, she asks, “trust who?”

Solana’s eyes shut.

Rikishi. 

Solo. 

Nia.

Jey.

That’s who the girls were talking about. They were who she couldn’t trust.

But, it’s less the warning from her daughters that Solana keeps at the forefront of her mind, and more the question, “you’re gonna protect us, right?” and the reminder, “you’re gonna have to fight for us.”

Hands now free from the ties, she places her hand over her belly, a silent promise made.

Fight.

Something Solana at one point didn’t think she was capable of, but the truth of the matter is that she’s been fighting her whole life.

She fought to live, beat her coma, when the men who took her mother’s life also tried to take hers.

She fought and dragged her way out that house after being gang raped and beaten as a child, overcoming her injuries to live.

She survived not one but two attempts at taking her own life.

Solana has spent her entire life surviving adversity after adversity, and she’s damn sure not about to stop now.

Deep down, she knows Roman is coming for her, knows that there’s no way in hell he won’t, and while it terrifies her what he could be walking into, she has to trust he knows what he’s doing. Trust that he’s got this.

She just has to stay alive long enough for him to get to her.

Gaze falling over to Brandi, Solana is careful in her movements, keeping a comfortable distance as she settles on her knees in front of the woman.

“I saw Emma.”

Just like that, Brandi jumps up, eyes wide, filled with abject fear. “What? Is sh—”

“She’s okay,” Solana assures. Jey had told her he’d make sure no one hurt the little girl after also promising to try to secure it to where Emma could be with them. Not that it makes much of a difference.

He’s a liar and can go to hell just like the rest of them.

“Brandi, I need you to listen to me.” Solana doesn’t know how much time she has until the woman before her, who’s now crying again, overwhelmed with everything that’s happened, shuts her out again. “You’re hurt and confused and angry and so many other things, and I know this not just because….because we’re both in this situation together, but….” She drops her head, pushing back some of her hair, voice lowering into an almost whisper. “Because I felt the same way after I was raped.”

Had she been looking up, Solana would have seen the horrified gleam in the other woman’s eyes. “And that….that’s going to take time to heal from, but you will heal from it. I promise you that.” Solana believes that with everything in her. She has to. “But right now….right now is not about healing, it’s about surviving.” Solana looks back at her, swallowing and returning to her previously strong, firm voice. “We are not going to die in here. Your daughter is not going to die in here.”

My daughters are not going to die in here, Solana thinks to herself. A vow. A promise. An oath.

“We are going to fight like hell, and we are going to survive this.” Brandi’s bottom lip trembles, as she remains quiet but listening. “But, we have to do it together. And, I know….I know our husband’s history with each other, but it’s not about that right now. That’s them. This is us. And right now, our priority is to get out of here alive, which I know we can do….but, I need you to trust me.”

Such an impossible thing for the other woman, Solana is certain. She’s certain because it’s that trust that landed them in the situation they’re in. 

Roman

Cody

Solana

Brandi

They all trusted the people who swore to love and protect them, but now, those same people seek to destroy them.

And she can’t let that happen.

Solana doesn’t say anything, doesn’t want to pressure Brandi, just wants to leave her with important things to consider.

And, she does, because just as Solana is preparing to move back to where she was previously sitting, a still, small voice fills the room.

“What do you need me to do?”

An indescribable joy and relief fills Solana that's only matched by her determination that make every bastard that's apart of this plot pay for what they've done.

She’s about to show them all just how “stupid” this bitch is.

[coralaura]

Primadonna

Yandere! Platonic! Batfamily x Model! GN Reader

“All I ever wanted was the world”

Your mother always feared what you could become when you were in her womb, you had so much bad blood running through your veins, she wished from the depths of her being that you were like your father, Bruce Wayne.

A wish that no matter how much she longed for was not fully fulfilled, you obtained the features of a Wayne, so cold and defined that if people had at least two neurons they could connect the dots and know that you were a bastard of the philanthropist.

You may have looked like him but your personality was more that of your beloved mother, the woman who gave birth to you and despite noticing the same darkness of her in you, she wanted to love that little piece of light that she cultivated in her womb.

It was easy to know that her departure left you devastated, you were just a child from the slums, your mother was a high-risk victim, easy to kill and that no one cared about, found in an alley, dead, her last expression was fear and despair.

Heartless people took it from you, but you were as smart as your mother, you were the result of the union of a millionaire and a woman who provided certain services…

And your mom, I knew that your beauty and the personality that you cultivated during the last 7 years of your life would save you, because you are like a rose, a beauty on the outside but only thorns on the inside.

Your father was never interested in seeing you, he always had time for everything but you, mom told you to never beg for attention because it will make you look weak and needy and you learned that lesson well, the first time he ignored you was the first and the last because there would be no more rejections if you never tried again, if now you reject him first, right?

The same was with the others except for Alfred who believed in your sweet look full of innocence, your resemblance to Bruce, Thomas and even a brief hint of Martha Wayne.

He fell into the rose but didn't see its thorns, he took care of the flower so close without being hurt by its edge, because he was the only one you could trust, he won your trust and the title of father in your eyes.

As the years went by the beauty in your face was not hard to notice, people noticed it and one day they offered you to be a model, twenty dollars an hour they told you and it was easy for you, you didn't want to ask any Wayne for anything, you didn't want to owe them anything, so money was necessary for it and to no one's surprise, a pretty face triumphs in this business, you just had to smile and pose.

Show a little body and smile again, that was what mom did, only this time this job was acceptable and not physical, one felt just as desecrated, because people began to draw a detailed map of your body, analyzing in detail and calling you the closest thing to the chiseled body of a God.

The only thing that was yours was what kept the “decency” still on the plate, the only thing that had not been desecrated but had always been longed for, by men and women alike and it was so suffocating, it seemed to consume your will to continue.

And soon you knew that you were more than an object to be seen and never to be touched, because a simple touch melted anyone, enchanted by your beauty, that became your weapon, you took advantage of the gift of genetics and used it to manipulate.

People never realized why someone pretty can not be evil, right?

You used tricks, you ruined your rivals with words, with actions and you made them look bad, because after all you were too pretty to be that evil. It's all someone else's fault, but yours, isn't it my sweet diva?

What a mistake it is to think that a beautiful rose can't be rotten inside, because after all your mother's blood flows through your veins and if she is a poison of society then you are already rotten from the moment you were conceived.

All you wanted was to be adored, the world was yours to play with, your ego a great double-edged sword and people's adoration was surpassing your expectations, any psychologist would say that you only want people's attention because your family never gave it to you, however he wouldn't know that that was nonsense, what was the use of their attention if you had the world wrapped in a ring that revolved around you?

Where you were the protagonist of this story and you get everything the world had to offer. You get everything for being Y/N even though you don't really deserve it.

Although that attention that you wanted so much also includes a family full of people obsessed with the idea of you coming home but that is a story that is just being written.

“The primadonna life, the rise and fall”

My first language is not English, so much of it was done with the help of translators (google translate) So if you see something that could be improved I appreciate it, comments, ideas, criticism and advice are appreciated.

[sluttyten]

toying with you

Kinktober Masterlist | Xiaojun Masterlist | Member Masterlist

tags: magical dildo, masturbation, cumming untouched, blowjobs, getting caught(?), voyeurism

length: 2973 words

Rather early on in the relationship, you’d revealed to Xiaojun the truth about you. You were a witch. Not the stereotypical spooky kind of witch illustrated in Halloween decorations and horror movies. You described it to him as being like a Harry Potter kind of witch, to which Xiaojun had immediately begun asking you Harry Potter related questions to gauge exactly what you meant. 

What you meant was that you were raised in a family of magic-users. All the women in your family were witches, all the men were wizards.

Magic was an everyday part of your life growing up, and you were homeschooled with your siblings and some of the other magical kids in your town until you reached your early teen years when you went away to a magical boarding school to learn more about your magic, to learn to control it and enhance it. So quite a lot like the Harry Potter series but without the evil wizards trying to disrupt the school year, and to your eternal disappointment (and Xiaojun’s, once you tell him) dragons still aren’t real. 

So he knows about your incredible magical powers. Xiaojun knows and frequently takes advantage of the opportunities that having a magical partner presents him. 

The power of invisibility, the power to teleport yourself from one place to the next, to summon things. You can clone things exactly. You can send him secret messages that no one else has the ability to read. Once you performed a spell that let you both share a dream, which had led to some pretty crazy and otherwise impossible sex. 

Sometimes the magic makes it easier when you’re doing long distance — when he’s traveling with the members for tour or whatever — or even when he’s just super busy with schedules and you never get any time together. 

But the easiest and best thing about your magic is when you make a magical replica of Xiaojun’s dick. 

He came over to your place very late one night after a long, exhausting schedule. As he stepped fresh and warm and damp from the shower to snuggle into bed with you, wrapping you in his arms, he’d apologized that he was gone so often. “I’m sorry, baby. I know I’m not taking care of you like I should.” 

You hardly ever got time together while he was working on their upcoming album release, and during what little time you got, he was too tired to want to have sex. You understood. That’s what your favorite toys were for, but it’s just not the same as having your boyfriend inside you, a flesh and blood hard penis. Your silicone toys just can’t satisfy you in the same way. 

“I’m sorry,” Xiaojun apologizes again, yawning sleepily, not even able to open his eyes. “You deserve more than just your toys. As soon as this album is finished I’m locking myself in here with you, and no one is allowed to disturb us until we can’t take anymore of each other.” 

He smiles still without opening his eyes when you kiss his cheek. “Wouldn’t it be nice if there were two of you? One of you could go to work, and the other could stay here with me, fuck me right, let me take you out on dates.”

Xiaojun hums pleasantly. “Or you at least wish I could leave my cock behind?”

You laugh, and comb your fingers through his hair. “That would be interesting. Use it like a toy while you’re away.”

“Sounds like fun, baby.” Xiaojun mumbles, yawning once more. “I would love that.”

Within seconds, he’s asleep, snoring softly as he holds you close. You should be right behind him in falling asleep, but the mental imagery of what you had just been talking about keeps playing over and over in your mind. And the more you think about it, the more you want it. And the more you want it, your brain begins plotting a spell to make it reality. 

You don’t steal Xiaojun’s penis. You leave it fully attached, unlike in that silly scenario. But you sit up and peel back the covers, looking down at your boyfriend’s bare body. Xiaojun’s eyebrows draw together a little at the cooler air on his skin, at the sound of your voice, and the flicker of light sparks of magic between your fingers. You whisper the spell, move your hands, and you study his dick as you form the replica. You want it to be exact. 

And within the next half hour, you have it. 

An exact working replica of Xiaojun’s dick. A magical replica. 

You put it in your bedside drawer then turn over and go back to snuggling with your boyfriend, falling asleep moments later. 

It’s a few days later, days painstakingly spent without Xiaojun, that you finally remember what you’d done that night. You forgot about the magical dildo you’d created and stuffed out of sight. And today you’re horny and missing your boyfriend, so instead of resorting to one of your typical vibrators, you settle into your bed and tug your new toy out of its hiding spot. 

It truly is just a duplicate of Xiaojun’s dick. It’s been left in the drawer, untouched, unused for days now, so as you bring him out into the light of day, he’s soft, looking a little sad and deflated. But as you lie down in your bed and look at it, as you study it up close, stroking your fingers along it and tentatively suck the tip into your mouth, you find that this toy dick reacts a lot like the real one. It feels just like him too, the weight and feel and taste of him is just the same. 

Slowly, but surely, Xiaojun’s cloned dick starts to fill out beneath your tender touches and salacious sucking. You’re playing, enjoying your time as you suck at the dick how you want, treating him like a lollipop more than anything, honestly. And you begin to wonder, can this magical dildo that acts so realistic reach climax? Can your dildo cum?

You do your damn best to find out. 

You’re lying there alone in your bed, sucking cock, with your pussy throbbing, so you start to play with yourself too. Touching your tits, sliding your fingers down between your pussy lips, gliding a teasing finger around your clit. You moan around the cloned cock, push it in a little deeper, and you swallow around it. You pull in the base of it, drawing it out of your lips a bit before plunging it back in. 

Fuck, it feels good when you’re choking around a replica of your boyfriend’s cock as you plunge two fingers into your pussy, needing to feel something. You pull the dildo out by the base, keeping your lips tight around the shaft, pausing with the tip of the toy still between your lips, you flick your tongue against the slit a few times, wishing this was really Xiaojun’s cock, wishing that he was moaning and leaking salty precum on your tongue, wishing that his hands were in your hair to shove your throat back down around his cock. 

But he’s not here, so you have to do it yourself. 

You gag only a little as you plunge the dildo all the way in, deep-throating the toy. It twitches on your tongue, and that’s the only warning you get before the dildo is cumming, shooting spurts of cum down your throat. You choke but keep trying to swallow, dragging the dildo back out of your mouth slowly, you keep sucking and licking, and the poor thing keeps cumming until at last you pull it out of your mouth so you can breathe. 

It really, really is a magical duplicate. You didn’t expect it would be able to cum. Especially not that much. And it tastes exactly right too. 

The familiar flavor of Xiaojun’s cum is heavy on your tongue as you swallow again. You’re not finished yet. 

You don’t let the dildo go soft. You keep stroking it, spit on it, and suck at the tip again. 

Your pussy is in desperate need at this point. You’re soaking wet down there even as your mouth is drooling for more too, whines of pure neediness spilling from your lips as you stroke the dildo back to full hardness. 

Fuck are you glad you did this. 

You need Xiaojun’s cock, and thanks to your incredible witchy powers, that’s exactly what you’ve got even though your boyfriend is halfway across the city. 

You suck on the tip of the dildo as you lower one of your hands down to circle your clit, to dip your fingers inside yourself, getting yourself nice and ready to be filled with the replica dildo. Your pussy is so ready for it when you finally bring the dildo from your mouth to down between your legs. But you don’t want the teasing to be over and done with just yet, so when you take the dildo in, you only give yourself a little. 

Just the shallow thrust of the magical dildo into your pussy. Barely more than the tip just resting inside of you. You swirl your fingers against your clit, the other hand you’ve got holding the dildo, using it to shallowly fuck the fake cock into you while you focus on your clit, while your pussy tries to pull the familiar shape of Xiaojun in deeper. 

When your bedroom door suddenly crashes open, revealing Xiaojun framed in the doorway, you freeze. 

“What are you doing?” He gasps, his voice loud but not angry as he staggers into the room. “What the fuck are you doing to me, baby? I was working, in the middle of the meeting when suddenly I was rock hard and throbbing, feeling like you were kneeling under the table sucking me off.” 

Xiaojun staggers towards the bed, and you can see now the bulge in the front of his pants, a darker stain there too, like he’d cum in his pants. 

He stops at the foot of the bed, staring at you, staring at the dildo in your hand. 

“You did it?” Xiaojun asks, slowly raising his gaze up from the dildo you’ve got teasing your pussy, up your body to your face. His gaze latches onto yours. “You found a way to keep my dick at home for some fun?”

You nod. “I didn’t realize it was still like… connected. I didn’t realize you’d feel everything, Dejun, or I swear I wouldn’t have done it.”

Xiaojun makes an aborted noise. His hands curl tight around the edge of the footboard of your bed. “It was so hot, though. I immediately left the meeting, hid in the restroom. When Kun came to find me, I pretended like I was sick, actively ill, so they luckily dismissed me from the meeting, and thank fuck they did. Oh my god, my manager drove me here, and I think he probably thought I was dying in the backseat. I couldn’t keep still, couldn’t keep quiet. All I could feel was your perfect lips around my cock, baby, your tongue and your warm mouth, sucking me off so good. And then I came in my fucking pants.” Xiaojun laughs. “The manager had to ask me if I was okay, and I’m a little worried I’ve probably traumatized him when he looked back there and saw me glassy-eyed and curled over my lap, moaning and breathing heavy.”

You want to move down the bed, to put your hands on Xiaojun, reel him in for a kiss. He’s looking at you right now like he’s a man starved, and you’re all he wants to eat. 

“Baby, I didn’t stop feeling you on me. Your hands and your lips, and as soon as he put the car in park, I threw myself out of the car and ran in here. Fuck. I had to see you. And here you are, fucking yourself with my cock.”

You whimper, and your hand twitches on the base of the dildo, pushing him in a little deeper. 

Xiaojun moans at the end of the bed. His knuckles go white from holding on so tightly to the footboard. 

“Go on,” he tells you, his voice gruff. “Put it in yourself, baby. I want to watch you use my cock. Fuck your pussy like you wish you had all of me.”

He stands there, watching as you push the replica of his cock all the way in. You’re wet enough that he slides right in, hugged snug by your pussy. Wet enough that you know Xiaojun can see your wetness glistening along the length of his cloned cock as you pull it out just to thrust it back in. Again and again. Your legs twitch, toes curling. You can’t keep quiet, can’t decide if you’d rather watch the dildo disappearing into your pussy or if you’d rather watch Xiaojun as he strips at the end of the bed and stands there watching you while he’s rock hard. He doesn’t touch himself, but he doesn’t have to. He can feel everything you’re doing to the dildo, and you can see his cock reacting, can see how Xiaojun’s body rocks forward slightly like he’s sinking into you, how his rigid cock drips shiny beads of precum. 

You particularly love the way Xiaojun reacts when you yank the dildo out of you and bring it up to your lips, quickly sucking the combined taste of your arousal and his wet precum off, rolling the flavor of his cock across your tongue. 

“Fuck, baby, this feels unreal. Wish you knew just how crazy this feels, to see what you’re doing, to feel it all. It’s different than normal, more intense.” Xiaojun moans and rocks his hips forward into nothing while you suck at the tip of the dildo. “Insane. Please put it back in your pussy. I wanna feel you, wanna see it.”

You obey, happy to fuck his cock again, plunging it back into your pussy while you run at your clit, knowing that you’re getting close, feeling the tingle of climax beginning to spread through you, your heart racing in your chest. 

“Come on,” Xiaojun encourages you. “You look so sexy right now, baby. I’m gonna cum again, but not until you do.”

Something inside you snaps, the thin restraint holding you back. Your climax tears through you, racing through every vein and in your bones. You keep your hold on the base of the dildo, thrusting it continuously while you’re cumming, your fingers still moving on your clit too, and you’re squirting a little around the cloned cock. 

“So hot. Need to be inside you, baby. For real.” Xiaojun groans and climbs onto the bed, his weight shifting the balance around as he moves towards you. The dildo shifts and you moan. Xiaojun almost falls forward. “I want to cum in you, baby. Can I?” 

You nod. “Yes. Pretty please, Dejun. Need it.”

You drag the dildo out, leaving your pussy open for Xiaojun to quickly refill. He sinks right into you. 

As good as it was having his exact replica inside of you, it still doesn’t compare to actually having Xiaojun. To feel him pressed hard and hot inside of you, the heat of his body settling between your thighs, his eyes on you, his hands on your body. 

The dildo in your hand twitches, maybe feeling neglected now. 

You turn your head to the side, and you bring it back to your lips. 

“Oh, fuck!” Xiaojun thrusts falter. “That is…. That’s a whole new feeling. Oh, shit.” He moans again as you suck off the dildo, as Xiaojun fucks into you. You wonder what he’s feeling right now, and whatever it is must be good. 

He cums, filling your pussy while the dildo cums across your tongue and down your throat. 

You let the dildo fall away, and Xiaojun’s cum drips from your lips, down your chin. You can tell by the look in his eyes that Xiaojun is awestruck, is in love.

He lurches forward to kiss you right as you loop your arms around the back of his neck to drag him in. 

You crash together, moaning into the kiss as Xiaojun tastes himself on your tongue, as he rolls his hips forward, filling you again and again with his cock while he fits a hand between your bodies to touch your clit until you’re falling apart beneath him, your orgasm stealing your breath away entirely. 

“Oh, God,” you sigh when Xiaojun breaks away. 

He falls into his side, facing you. “That was crazy good. Really, like it was insane. The things I was feeling. It was layered, so complex I can’t even try to explain it.” Xiaojun reaches across you and he picks up the dildo from where you left it, a strange expression on his face as he watches it go soft. “Weird, but not in a bad way.”

“Good.” You lean in and kiss him again. “Because I will definitely be using it again. It’s still not as good as actually having you here, but it’s a hell of a lot better than my regular toys.”

Xiaojun lays a kiss on your forehead. “Maybe you should make a clone of your pussy, let me have some fun so you can experience it.” 

You laugh, but damn, your boyfriend has some good ideas. Even a couple hours later after you’ve showered off and are doing things to at least pretend like you don’t want to just stay in bed with Xiaojun, all you can think about is what he’s said earlier. 

Maybe you will have to make him a clone of your pussy, an exact replica so you can see what all the fuss was about. 

a/n: I really wanted to write most of these kinktober prompts, and now that I'm actually like 11 days (or something like that) behind on them, I might keep posting them even after the month is over, but we'll see how that goes. I really wanted to write this Xiaojun one though because I've had this idea for ages ever since I saw this video on Twitter where this girl's dildo just really looked pretty realistic imo, and it's also quite inspired by The Magical Kundini series on AO3 (a Kun/Ten/YangYang relationship, so don't read it if you don't like that)

If you notice any errors or if you feel I should include some more tags/content warnings, please let me know!

I hope you enjoyed! Reblogs are deserving of my eternal gratitude, likes are greatly appreciated, and your thoughts and comments are always welcome!

[bvidzsoo]

Who am I?

Author: bvidzsoo

Warnings: mentions of a gun, cursing, smut

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

Word count: 14,2k

Summary: Going through the dark passageway late in the night really wasn't your greatest idea, but the angels were on lookout that night and sent Jeong Yunho as your savior. But what happens when you realize Jeong Yunho isn't at all what he seems to be?

A/N: Uh...hi? This piece here really shouldn't exist, like the way I wrote it was so against the routine I have when doing stories, I'm even shocked it became real. It also was supposed to be a mere longer drabble but oh well, I suck at writing short stories either way. Also, Jeong Yunho is a constant in my mind lately so...ig it was inevitable that I write something with him. *sigh* There's smut in here and ugh...yeah, I tried again lol. Leave feedback, I very much appreciate it and stay tuned for the next chapter of the rockstar!au Mingi story! Enjoy now and tell me your thoughts!

⟨Masterlist⟩

            It really was my fault; I should have been smarter before turning down the dimly lit passageway between the two tall buildings. But the path towards my flat was shorter this way, and I was in a hurry, desperate to finally get home after a long and busy day. The streets were quiet as night had settled upon the otherwise lively city and as I exhaled through my mouth, a little puff of smog appeared in the chilly air. My hands slipped deeper into the pockets of my black bomber jacket as I nuzzled my nose more into it, the tip of it unmistakably red. Winter struck upon us quite unexpectedly and the hope that we still had a few more days of sunshine and as little warmth as the sun could offer came crushing down when the wind picked up two days ago and snow started falling immediately. And what was even worse is that the temperatures dropped so low that everything had frozen over by now and it was slipper; in the past ten minutes I have almost fallen on my bum at least three times. But the little scare got my heart pumping faster, and I wasn’t feeling as cold as I was supposed to despite the layers of clothing adorning my body.

There was a light shuffle behind me, that was the first thing which caught my attention, and then suddenly, the dark figure standing a few feet ahead close to the wall, as if they were facing it, was the second thing to alarm me. My heart leaped slightly as my hands balled up into fists in my pockets, but I quickly tried to calm myself down. Not all men were evil and not all men wanted to hurt women, and I wasn’t even sure it was a man standing up front. My legs carried me faster and I gulped when the person whipped their head around to look at me. My hunch was right, it was a man, and he had a bloodied lip as I took in his face while still approaching. I quickly averted my eyes and quickened my pace, hoping that if I ignored him, he would ignore me as well. I had nothing on me if he decided to attack me, I could only hope my fists were good enough and I wouldn’t break my fingers if I was forced to use brute force. I only would have had to take three more steps to be past the man, but he suddenly jumped in front of me and I came to a halt as he squared me up. I tried not to let him see the fear I was feeling pulsing through my body as I clenched my jaw as my body lightly trembled from the adrenaline coursing through my bloodstream.

“Hey there, bunny.” My eyebrows furrowed at his raw voice, almost as if it was hard for him to speak as a disgusting smirk painted his lips. I suddenly wished I had taken the longer way, walked on the main road instead of this shortcut. When the man realized I wouldn’t say anything back, he tsked, “Are you shy, little bunny?”

Nicknames were annoying in a normal scenario and it was only making my skin crawl right now, but I remained silent, gripping the keys of my flat’s front door which I had in my left pocket. One wrong move from the man, and I wouldn’t hesitate to stab him with it.

“Why are you not answering me?” His voice got rougher and he took a wobbly step towards me, and without much thought, I whirled around with the purpose of walking back the way I have come, but another man was blocking my path. He looked lanky and was hunched over as his lips pulled into a scary sneer. I was cornered. My hands started trembling more as I took a deep breath, trying to think level headed, but my mind was clouded with panic as I searched for an escape route without much success. Before I could even react, the man with the busted lip approached me from behind and as I turned to be able to see him, his rough hand made contact with my left shoulder. I quickly yanked myself away and slightly crashed into the concrete wall of the building behind me.

“Don’t touch me!” I managed to snap out with a shaky voice, yet it sounded rough. It certainly didn’t match the way I was feeling, scared absolutely shitless.

“Is my little bunny scared?” If I wasn’t so scared I probably would’ve seen red at his claim over me, and it only made it worse as the other man chuckled. My eyes snapped towards him before quickly looking back at the other man when I realized he tried to grab at me again.

“I said, don’t touch me!” I shrieked and went to push him backwards, breathing irregularly as I was full on shaking, on the verge of a break down. But if I started crying I would look helpless, which I was, and I probably wouldn’t be able to see anything, so I willed myself to blink away the tears quickly.

“You little bitch, you wanna play rough?” The man spat as he had stumbled backwards from my push and I shrunk against the wall when the taller one suddenly started approaching, a hungry stare in his eyes. My lips started trembling and I went to yank out my keys and lunge at the taller one, but a very amused chuckle halted everyone’s actions. All I could think about was a third man coming to do vile things to me and at the thought, a few tears rolled down my cheeks, but I quickly wiped at them when I saw the battered-up man smirking in my direction at my distress.

“I thought I beat your sorry ass into unconsciousness.” At the hear of the third person’s voice, the battered-up man suddenly froze and his eyes widened as the taller one took a step back, leaving just enough space for me to run away, “What are you still doing out here?”

The battered-up one cursed under his breath before putting on a fake smile as he whirled around, facing the third man. I was too scared to look, shaking, as I pondered whether it was the distraction I needed to run away, “I was just playing with my little bunny, you should go on your way—”

“She doesn’t look like she wants to play with you, Siwon.” The third man snapped and my eyebrows furrowed at the familiarity of his tone. It resembled someone’s I knew from my university, but I remained unmoving as the tall man slowly backed away, “And you, Nikhun, I thought I said I didn’t want to see you around here, anymore…”

“I was just passing by.” The taller one, Nikhun, stiffly said before he abruptly turned around and took off almost in a run as the familiar voice just chuckled. My muscles slightly relaxed as I realized I could now just run back the way I had come, and moving slowly, I started heading just that way.

“I know I said I wasn’t going to kill you, Siwon,” The familiar sounding man tsked as I continued slowly walking with my back pressed up against the building’s cold wall, “But you’re really testing my patience lately.”

“Fuck you, man.” Siwon spat and I jumped when there was suddenly a loud crash and an exasperated scoff. I froze and didn’t dare breathe as I felt eyes on me. I didn’t know who was looking at me or what happened, I was scared to turn my head and look. I had to run. But as I pushed myself away from the wall, the familiar voice suddenly called out.

“It’s okay now, Y/N.” What—I whipped my head around and first took in the scene. Siwon, the battered-up man, was lying on the ground unconscious by the big trashcan. The loud bang must’ve been him. With wide eyes, I looked at the third man alarmed, and my jaw dropped as I stood staring at the familiar face of Jeong Yunho. Everyone knew him at university and everyone loved him. Jeong Yunho was like the sunshine. He was always smiling and laughing, cracking harmless jokes and hitting up a conversation effortlessly with anyone. He was kind and considerate, he always helped out anyone who needed help. He would carry your stuff if they were heavy and he’d walk you home if it was too late. He held the door open for anyone and he would make place for you at the Cafeteria if there were no more empty spots. The Jeong Yunho who was often found in the library with his nose buried in books, typing furiously on his laptop, and always turning in his assignments way before their deadline. He wore light colors and fluffy clothes, often paired with hilarious beanies and hats. But the guy standing a few feet away from me looked nothing like the Yunho I have taken glances at or heard stories about. Yunho and I weren’t friends, we were far from being acquittances even, but everyone knew him at our university and that included me. We were people from two very different universes and I had no idea how he knew my name. Yes, sure, we would cross paths in the library at times when I was in a rush as my deadline was a day or two away, and yes, I did almost spill my coffee on him once, but there was never a conversation involved or an exchange of names. Just a small, “Oh, my, God! I’m so sorry, that was a close call.”, and a “Don’t worry about it, you have great coordination, you stopped in time.” If I would have had great coordination, I wouldn’t have nearly ran into him, but I didn’t have the time to tell him that as I was late to work.

“Yun—Yunho?” I stuttered out finally once I was one hundred percent convinced it was Jeong Yunho. The dimly lit passageway made it harder to see his face from where I was standing and his clothes were unrecognizable, but it was his voice which confirmed his identity.

“Jeong Yunho in person.” He chuckled and I finally pulled myself together and slowly started approaching him. My legs were slightly shaky and I was still clutching my keys tightly in my left hand, but my heartbeat was slowly calming down. I passed by Siwon and took a peek against my better judgement, eyes widening when I saw the little trickle of red from the side of his head. Was he…going to die?

I looked up as I came to a stop a few steps away from Yunho and exhaled, coming face to face with a very unfamiliar looking Jeong Yunho. Despite the cold weather he was wearing a black leather jacket over what seemed to be a long-sleeved form fitting blouse with graphic design on it, and wide black jeans hugged his legs with the blouse tucked in, showing off his waist. His neck was decorated with various necklaces and as he extended one hand towards me, I noticed all the rings on his long fingers. I gulped as I looked back up at him, slightly intimidated and mostly confused. His black hair was completely pushed back and the usual fluffiness was gone from it.

“Come, you’re safe now.” Yunho encouraged me with his usual warm smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. My eyebrows furrowed as I reluctantly extended my hand and placed it in his palm, gasping when he yanked me forward, making me jump over Siwon’s slumped body. Yunho smirked as I somehow managed not to fall against his chest, big eyes staring up at him in shock, “Good thing I was passing by, angel, or else these two…”

He didn’t finish his sentence and he didn’t have to; I knew. I gulped and became aware of the awfully obvious height difference between the two of us and scrambled to pull my hand out of his, but Yunho’s grip suddenly tightened and he stepped closer, making me tip my head back as I tried looking in his eyes. My heart was racing once again and I could feel a blush creep up onto my cheeks as Yunho’s eyes examined my face with a small smirk, “What are you doing out here so late at night?”

“I—” My mind blanched for a second as Yunho’s cold fingers intertwined with mine, “I had the evening shift today, I—I was just walking home.”

“It’s unsafe at this hour.” Yunho’s voice turned stern and I averted my eyes, suddenly embarrassed that I was getting scolded by him, “And especially through this neighborhood, Y/N. You should’ve stuck to the main road instead.”

“I know.” I grumbled under my breath and Yunho chuckled, his voice deep, and it only made me flush harder as I avoided eye contact.

“Let’s get you home.” He said quietly and I looked at him alarmed, extracting my hand from his as he started walking us towards the end of the passageway.

“I can walk on my own—” I said in a panic, not wanting Yunho to walk with me. I wasn’t even far away, I have taken this route so many times before, I was going to be fine now that those two men were gone, but Yunho’s tone definitely made me rethink my words as he spoke up.

“You are not walking on your own, especially around here.” Yunho’s voice was sharp and he threw me a quick glare as he looked behind, at me, “Do you not know anything about this place?”

I shrugged and pushed my hands into my pockets again, “I do, but it’s not that big of a deal. I always walk home at this time and nothing has ever happened. I just had bad luck tonight.”

“Bad luck, you say.” Yunho scoffed, face contorted into disgust, “The things those two would’ve done to you would have been terrible, Y/N, and you call it bad luck?”

“Okay, fine.” I snapped and walked up to his side, giving him a wide-eyed stare, “Walk me home then, but this is fucking weird. How do you even know my name?”

Yunho’s eyebrows furrowed and his sharp stare made me gulp as I shrunk back, walking a little further away from him, “We go to the same university.”

“I’m not popular.” I deadpanned and Yunho shrugged, looking ahead as his jaw clenched and unclenched.

“You once scribbled in a book from the library and I was at the front desk when the librarian lost it. She rambled on about you for a good fifteen minutes before I was finally allowed to rent the book I wanted.” I cleared my throat in embarrassment, remembering well what the next day looked like when I walked inside the library. I have skipped going there for the next two months from shame as the librarian had screamed at me for ten minutes without even as much as taking a breath.

“Whatever, it’s still weird.” I muttered and nuzzled my nose behind the neckline of my jacket, regretting now that I haven’t worn a scarf. Yunho just chuckled and cast me a side glance as his longs legs carried him around faster than my shorter ones; it almost felt like I was jogging next to him. He must’ve been cold with how few clothing items he was wearing. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander towards him as I took in his appearance again, deciding that this version of Yunho was intimidating and quite…hot. His bright persona was certainly eye catching but this felt different, alluring almost.

“It’s not weird,” Yunho said with a chuckle, lips pulling into an amused smile, “I’m just observant.”

I hummed, but didn’t look at him as I asked my next question while we crossed the road, “What are you doing here, anyway?”

Yunho chuckled again, but it was lower and as we looked at each other briefly, there was a dark glint in his beautiful chocolate brown eyes, mischief written all over his face, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I rolled my eyes and quickened my pace, just wanting to get home already. I was tired and cold.

“Do you have the evening shift often?” He asked after a minute of silence.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I fired back and Yunho laughed, head tilting back slightly, “Don’t expect me to give you an answer when you evade mine with a question.”

“You didn’t look like you’d be this feisty, angel.” My steps halted as I stared at Yunho incredulously, eyes slightly widening in offense. What did he mean by that?

“I’m tired.” I called out since Yunho hadn’t stopped walking and now I had to jog to catch up with his long strides, “And you’re walking too fast.”

“My apologies.” Yunho suddenly slowed down and looked at me with a big smile, the first time he looked like the Yunho I knew from university, “Sometimes I forget not everyone has long legs like mine.”

“Yeah,” I rolled my eyes, “I wonder how’s the weather up there.”

Yunho suddenly laughed, pressing a palm against his lips as it was loud, “I haven’t heard that one in long.”

I just hummed and cast another glance at him, confused of our whole conversation and the situation we were in. To be fair, I was grateful for him, of course I was, but the shock still hadn’t worn off and I was still slightly thrown off by his demeanor and change of personality…and looks. We continued walking in silence, steps hurried as the wind started blowing harder and all I could think about was Yunho being cold and getting sick because of his choice of clothing. However, the quiet didn’t last for long around us as we heard approaching footsteps, it sounded like they were running towards us. Yunho and I looked back at the same time and I failed to notice the way his expression hardened and jaw set. Before I could react, a heavy arm was draped around my shoulders and I was pulled into a sturdy body, warmth wrapping around myself and a masculine scent. I looked up at Yunho flabbergasted before watching the running man again as he came to a stop a few feet away from us.

“Hey, Yunho—” He panted as he leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees, “Finally found you, man.”

Yunho said nothing as he watched the guy, strengthening his grip against my shoulder when I tried to move away. My eyebrows furrowed as I struggled for a bit more, until Yunho clicked his tongue and I looked up at him, feeling his gaze on me already. His eyes were sharp and dark and I gulped as I looked away, stilling in his grip when he looked back at the younger looking guy, “What do you want?”

His voice sounded nothing like the friendly person I have been just talking to, it was ice cold and it made me shiver.

“Yeah, uh,” The guy glanced at me reluctantly, “Cheol wants the money. Soon.”

Yunho scoffed and rolled his eyes as I looked at him curiously, wondering where this conversation was going, “I thought I have made myself clear already, Chan.”

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger, alright?” The shorter guy scoffed and stood up straight, his eyes hardening as he looked at Yunho now with a slight glare, “You’ve been avoiding us for months now, Cheol is getting fed up…so is everyone else.”

“And I have a reason for that,” Yunho snapped, anger coating his voice, “which you all know of. If you want my money, do your fucking end of the deal for once.”

“Was the merch not good enough last time?” Chan raised an eyebrow. These two were acting like I wasn’t even there, so I tried to get out of Yunho’s grip again, but instead, he gripped my nape and roughly pushed my head into his chest, making me gasp. I clutched against the collar of his leather jacket and tried to pull away, but Yunho’s strength was immense, so, instead my cheek was mushed against his firm chest, his musky cologne invading my senses and making my head slightly dizzy.

“If it were good, you would’ve seen the money by now.” Yunho’s voice held no emotions and I watched as best as I could from my position as he reached with his right hand behind himself, moving at what looked like lightning speed to me, but with my vision obscured I wasn’t able to see what was in his hand, “Go back to Cheol and tell him to get his fucking act together before I take action.”

“Asshole.” I heard this Chan guy snap and then an unsettling silence followed. I bit my lower lip and wondered what was going on, and it didn’t take long to find out as he spoke up soon again, “Got yourself a shiny new toy?”

“She’s a person, not a toy, Chan. And she’s not mine.” Yunho’s voice was rough and my breath halted for a second as I felt Yunho’s fingers twitch against my skin. I moved my head slightly to look up at him and caught the quick glance he sent down at me. It was dark and emotionless, yet it held a clear warning that I needed to stay quiet. My heart skipped a beat involuntarily.

“You better claim her then, before Cheol gets his hands on her—”

“Get lost, right now.” I have never heard such a threatening tone from anyone before, and my blood froze over at the anger and sneer in Yunho’s voice as he grabbed onto the back of my head tightly, making me freeze as I heard the click of something. Was…was he holding a gun? I gasped quietly as my fingers dug harder into the fabric of Yunho’s jacket and I heard the Chan guy cackle before his footsteps stared fading away. Yunho, however, didn’t move and I was too scared to do so as I realized I had started shaking. Suddenly, my head was being pulled back by Yunho’s hand on my nape and we made eye contact as he looked down at me menacingly.

“Not a word to anyone.” I exhaled shakily and frantically nodded my head as I dared to take a glance at his other hand, which, to my horror, held a black gun. My blood ran cold as Yunho released me at the same time as he put his gun away, behind himself, probably in the belt of his jeans, “Let’s go.”

And the rest of the walk was silent and hurried as I almost ran to finally get home, confused and scared and needing a shit ton of answers to the questions swirling in my head, which Yunho was probably unwilling to give. I valued my life above all, and therefore I remained silent, besides, the anger oozing off of him was enough to shut me up despite my sparkling curiosity. Who the hell was Jeong Yunho?

            The next day I did everything in me to forget about last night’s endeavors and about Jeong Yunho. I could act like nothing happened, like it was all just a dream. And everything was going well, until…until Yunho and I crossed paths in our university’s hallway. Well, we didn’t actually cross paths, but we saw each other briefly as I was walking with my best friend to class and Yunho was headed towards the stairs, the two of us on the two opposite ends of the long hallway. My friend was talking about the book she was currently reading and I would hum or nod along to her words, letting her know that I was paying attention despite being silent as we walked, my hands gripping the straps of my backpack. I nodded in agreement at her characterization of a character we both enjoyed from the book, when I finally looked ahead and my mind blanked. It certainly did feel like last night was a fever dream as Yunho stood on the other end of the hallway, black hair falling in soft curls against his forehead with his rainbow-colored sweater hanging loosely around his frame, big hands disappearing in the sleeves of it. His jeans were a faded grey and he was laughing as he talked to someone, eyes disappearing and cheeks puffed out. He looked nothing like the guy from last night and it gave me whiplash as his menacing and threatening eyes flashed before my eyes just as Yunho suddenly looked ahead, his eyes finding mine, looking at me with the warmest gaze anyone could muster up. I realized I was gaping, but I couldn’t help it when my brain convinced me that Jeong Yunho from right now and Jeong Yunho from last night weren’t the same person.

“Are you staring at Yunho right now?” My best friend’s voice finally snapped me out of my staring and I looked at her with the same wide eyes.

“I—yeah, but—” I needed to get it together, “That’s not Jeong Yunho.”

“Uh,” My friend looked at me like I had grown another head, “then who is he?”

“I don’t know, but—” I let out a long huff, eyebrows furrowing as I looked back at Yunho, “but that’s not the same guy from last night, I’m telling you.”

I could see the confusion on my friend’s face as she looked towards Yunho, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “He looks like—Yunho. I mean, what are we even talking about right now? Did you hit your head or something?”

“Stop it.” I snapped at her and pushed at her shoulder in frustration, making my friend glare at me, “He must have two personalities or something.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say about someone, Y/N.” My friend chastised me and I groaned in frustration. Of course she wouldn’t understand. She wasn’t there. She didn’t see the Yunho I have. Coming to think of it…I don’t think anyone had from around here, seeing as everyone was flocking towards him and acting so freely with him. His laughter carried down the hallway and it was soft, his cheeks slightly rosy as a girl leaned too close to him and he averted his gaze shyly. He was void of all the accessories he had been wearing last night and his clothes were what I was used to seeing him wear on a daily basis. He kept shifting from one foot to another as a guy threw his arm around Yunho’s shoulders as the two giggled about something, Yunho covering his mouth before whispering something to him back with a cheeky smile. The image of him holding a gun suddenly flashed behind my eyes and I jumped, sucking in a sharp breath of air. My friend looked at me like I was crazy and I averted my eyes from Yunho, looking at her like I have seen a ghost.

“There’s something very wrong with that guy, I’m telling you.” I muttered as I grabbed her wrist and pulled her in the opposite direction, scared of facing Yunho after his weird personality shifts.

“You sound super crazy right now, bestie.” I rolled my eyes and huffed as my best friend taunted, cackling when she saw the discontentment on my face.

            And the days passed just like that. Jeong Yunho, wearing every existing bright color, avoiding eye contact when he felt shy and hiding behind his hand when he laughed a little too hard. His cheeks had a flush to them constantly and he would carefully arrange his wavy bangs against his forehead. It was confusing. I was becoming convinced with each passing day that what had happened that night was just a fever dream, and that it was so real that my mind decided to believe it. Perhaps I was lucid dreaming or something, it wouldn’t be the first time. Two weeks had gone by since my strange encounter with Yunho and I have finally come to terms with the fact that maybe what happened wasn’t even real. It couldn’t have been, not when Yunho didn’t even glance my way once. Not when he remained the bright and lovely popular boy and I…continued almost missing my deadlines, which meant I was coped up in the library currently, searching for the book I needed without having much luck in finding it. I was too lazy to ask the librarian as I would need to descend the stairs, so I instead grew more and more frustrated as I stomped around between the bookcases. I was surely disturbing someone, but I didn’t care. Eyes set on the books, one title caught my attention and I stopped, hoping that it was the book I needed. It was at eye level and I pulled it back just enough to be able to see the cover and title of it. I felt like banging my head against the shelf when I realized it wasn’t the book I needed, and with a very loud sigh/groan, I pushed it back harshly, almost screaming when a human head was casually leaning against the bookshelf next to the book I had just examined. My heart beat like crazy as I gaped at Yunho, his warm eyes twinkling with amusement as his eyebrows were slightly furrowed. His baby pink shirt hugged his frame messily as the collar fell a little low, showing off the smooth skin of left shoulder, and his dark green cargo pants were an interesting choice to wear. Yeah, this was the Jeong Yunho I knew. Dressing quirky and looking almost like an oversized puppy as his lips were pushed into a pout. I couldn’t find any words to say so I just scrambled through my brain for something, pushing my hair behind my ears as Yunho continued staring. It was becoming too much, his gaze.

“What?” I managed to say, still at a loss and not knowing how I should approach him.

“Hi.” His lips suddenly pulled up into the brightest smile I had ever seen, and his eyes twinkled with so much warmth that I took a step back. I’m going crazy, aren’t I?

“Hi.” I willed myself to greet him back, taking another step back as Yunho took one towards me, smile still on his face. He didn’t say anything else as he proceeded to come closer and closer, making me chuckle nervously as I continued putting distance between the two of us, not for long though. My back soon ran into the bookshelf and I internally whined as it cut into my back sharply. Yunho came closer, caging me in between the bookshelf and his body, making my heart somersault as I looked up at him confused, but intrigued. He was still smiling, still looking as friendly as ever, still the bright and well-liked guy from our university. Suddenly, his arms raised and were placed on each side of my head, slightly above. Yunho went and leaned down a bit, crooking an eyebrow as my eyes widened and body shrunk against the hard shelf. His musky cologne wrapped around me once again, and the events of that night flashed before my eyes without a warning.

“What are you doing?!” I whispered, sounding panicked as Yunho looked almost confused by my reaction. Almost as if it didn’t make sense that I was reaction to him like this. But I had every reason to, I can’t be crazy.

“I’m looking for a book,” He said with a light tone, expression calm, “this is the medical section. You know I’m studying to become a doctor, right?”

“No.” My answer was instant; I had no idea what his major was. I only heard rumors about how great he is, not about what he does or studies here.

“Oh, now you know.” Yunho said surprised and looked above my head, grinning happily as he reached out. What the hell was happening?

“You’re majoring in architecture, right?” I nodded wordlessly, confused as to how he knew once again something about me. I never told him. Just like with my name.

“So, did the librarian tell you this too about me?” I asked, sounding a little accusatory, as I raised an eyebrow at Yunho. He chuckled and shook his head, looking down at me in amusement.

“Not quite, I figured it out when I saw you leaving class a good while ago.” Right. He saw me leaving class. Sure. My eyes narrowed at him and I licked my lips, about to slip away and go on my merry way as this whole interaction was weird and confusing, but as if Yunho read my mind, he stepped even closer, the front of our boots touching. I looked up at him alarmed, eyes widening as Yunho lowered one arm, holding a book.

“This is so weird,” I muttered to myself, feeling uncomfortable, “Is there something wrong with you?”

My question was quite offensive and I didn’t think it through before I said it out loud, but it didn’t seem to affect Yunho as he started giggling quietly, eyes becoming smaller as his cheeks flushed. How was this the same man from that night? Did he have a twin or something? Why would his name be Yunho too? Was he fucking around with me? Or did he just have multiple personalities?

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me, angel.” My body tensed at the nickname and I watched as Yunho composed himself, and yet, the Yunho suddenly caging me against the shelf wasn’t the same Yunho from just a second ago. The friendliness and warmth slipped from his face as his eyes slightly narrowed, darkening as a smirk appeared on his lips instead of the cute smile he directed at everyone. My heart started beating faster as he bit his lower lip, leaning down even more to be eye level with me, making my breath catch in my throat, “Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“Something very wrong.” I managed to whisper as Yunho chuckled darkly, the knuckles of his free hand suddenly grazing against my cheek. I flinched, but didn’t pull away as his eyes ran over my face. The way his wavy hair fell in his eyes made them look sharper. He oozed danger and my mind screamed at me to high tail it out of there, yet my feet remained planted.

“There’s nothing wrong with someone who has a colorful personality, angel,” Yunho’s deep voice rang through my ears as he leaned in to whisper in my left ear, goosebumps erupting on my skin, “Have you told anyone about our encounter from that night?”

I quickly shook my head no and Yunho smirked, pulling back and gripping my chin tightly, yanking me forward and knocking the wind out of my lungs, “Good girl, keep doing that. I’m afraid something might happen to you if you decide to blabber on about it to someone.”

I shuddered as his piercing gaze kept me locked in, a whisper barely passing between my lips, “Like what?”

The sinister look which crossed Yunho’s face felt like a punch to my gut and I suddenly remembered the gun he owned. He’d shoot me. He’d kill me. Of course he would, something told me he wouldn’t hesitate or think twice about it.

“I would have to punish you—” He bit his lower lip as he paused for a second, making me realize I started shaking, “And not in the way I would love to.”

“Fuck.” I muttered, gripping his wrist and lightly pushing against it. His words were meant to be threatening, and they were, I was shaking after all…but his words also did something to me as my stomach twisted and body shivered, eyes subsequentially falling onto his red and plush lips. Yunho’s smirk widened and he leaned so incredibly close that I could feel his breath hitting my lips, his skin seemingly flawless from up close. My fingers closed around his wrist tighter as my back melted into the bookshelf behind me.

“Let’s keep it our little secret for now, angel.” His thumb swept against the skin of my chin, my face flaming at the motion, “And I shall reward you if you’re a good girl.”

“How?” I whispered, looking into Yunho’s dark eyes.

“You shall wait and see.” He winked and before I could think more about his words, he was gone just as quickly as he had come. I was left blinking confused at nothing and struggling to breathe regularly as Yunho’s warm, and big, hand left my skin burning where he had touched. What have I indirectly gotten myself involved into?

            Things happened the same way like the first time after my strange encounter with Yunho in the library. He didn’t look my way, he didn’t acknowledge me, he didn’t speak to me for at least a good two weeks. It was weird, everything he was doing. I had so many unanswered questions, but I pushed them to the back of my mind and hoped that whatever weird thing going on between Yunho and I would stop for good now. I didn’t want to get tangled up in something which felt so unsure and dangerous. I still haven’t forgotten the gun Yunho owned nor the conversation between him and that Chan guy. Even a dumb person would’ve understood that there was something illegal, at least, going on between the two of them and I didn’t want to get involved. However, the radio silence didn’t last for long as it was another Thursday and I was closing up the small convenience store I was currently working at. I had the evening shift again; the clock was close to hitting midnight and it was snowing heavily outside. I sighed when I realized I would have to walk twenty minutes just to get home. There were no signs of snow half an hour ago, it came out of the blue and I watched as a group of teenagers ran past the convenience store laughing loudly and having a snowball fight. I couldn’t share their joy as I shrugged on my coat, the weather had been nice today, I thought it wouldn’t get cold and thus abandoned my thick winter jacket, which I came to regret now. I switched off the lights and braced myself for the cold as I pushed open the door and instantly shuddered. There was a freezing chill in the air and it clung to my body as I quickly tightened the scarf around my neck, at least I had half a mind to bring one with myself. I struggled for a few seconds with the lock, it's been acting up for a while now but the owner didn’t bother to fix it, until I heard a click and pushed against the door, making sure I have truly locked it. I whirled around to stalk off towards the bus stop, with little hope that the last bus hadn’t went by already. However, I was quickly forced to stop by the sight in front of me. Yunho, painfully underdressed for the current weather, stood leaning against a black massive car. It was an SUV, a very expensive looking one.

“Evening, angel.” My jaw shouldn’t have almost hit the pavement, but I couldn’t help but gape at him. What was he doing here? Why was he here? Was that his car? How? Was he rich? Now that I come to think of it, I have no idea what Yunho does outside of university or the type of family he comes from. The sudden realization of knowing exactly nothing about him besides the persona he paints himself as was startling as a sly grin crossed Yunho’s features. It made my stomach flip.

“What are you doing?” I managed to ask, reluctantly walking closer to him. Yunho pushed his hands inside the pockets of his leather jacket, which looked thicker than the one he wore on the night he had to save me from those two creeps. His jeans were ripped and black and a very tight, form fitting, white shirt clung onto his well-defined body. With a black baseball cap over his wavy hair he looked extremely handsome underneath the street light, I had to stop myself from letting my eyes wander all over his body once again.

“Saw how hard it started to snow,” Yunho spoke up casually, smirking when I stopped a few feet away from him, “Figured you might just take the shortcut again, so, I’m here to pick you up.”

“No, you’re not.” My answer rushed through my lips instantly and I looked at him startled, slightly taking a step back as Yunho pushed off his car, “I am perfectly capable of walking home and besides—I might still catch the last bus.”

“It went by while you were still locking up, angel, just accept my offer and stop being so stubborn.” Yunho sounded slightly irritated as he walked closer, head lowered so that I was able to see his eyes from this angle. They were narrowed and I gulped, realizing that he wasn’t playing nice nor would act goofy like at university, this was the weird and intimidating version of Yunho.

“Excuse me if I’m hesitant in accepting your offer, Yunho,” I snapped, slightly fed up with the constant whiplash this guy was giving me, “But I have no actual idea who you are and so far you’ve been acting like a stalker. You know my name, you know my major, you randomly show up when I’m in trouble and then you walk me home despite my complaints. You proceed to act completely different than the guy I’m used to seeing at university and you have strange conversations with weird people who are threatening you and are calling me yours like I’m simply just a piece to be put on display and you—you have a gun! And you’ve threatened someone with it. So, yeah, I don’t exactly want to get in your car for you to—drive me home? Or kill me. Or do something else to me.”

“If I wanted to do something to you or harm you I would’ve already done so, Y/N, I had plenty of chances for that.” My jaw hung open once again at Yunho’s instant reply, heart hammering at his admission. Is this seriously the only thing he’s taken from my rant? Which felt good to finally get off my chest, but it seemed to make no difference as Yunho shook his head lightly and suddenly invaded my personal space, taking me completely off-guard, “Who I am at university and who I am outside of it might seem like two completely different people to you, but it’s me. I’m not always happy, and goofy, and I’m not always in a good mood. I just don’t like showing the real me around people.”

“I am people, so what’s different?” I scoffed, glaring up at him, “We don’t even know each other so I don’t understand why you feel the need to drop your act around me.”

“Would you prefer me acting all fake, then?” Yunho’s tone was harsh and his face read displeasure as I allowed my eyes to soak in his expression. Would I prefer that? It was the Yunho I was accustomed to, but would I like that?

“I don’t know,” I managed to mutter out, averting my eyes when Yunho’s dark gaze became too much, “I guess I’m just used to that version of you and this—feels weird, perhaps scary.”

Yunho suddenly sighed and his shoulders slightly dropped as he looked up at the sky, his smooth skin glinting under the streetlamp, “I’m sorry if I scared you, that wasn’t my intention.”

I chewed on my bottom lip as Yunho looked at me again, our gazes connecting. He was sincere, his eyes were shinning with honesty and an almost innocent like gleam, just like the one I was used to seeing. I hummed wordlessly and looked away, feeling slightly more at ease in his presence. He just sighed quietly and I heard shuffling before I felt the weight of a big hand pressing against the top of my head. I looked up at Yunho wide eyed as he started patting my hair, almost as if he was flicking something out of it. The snowflakes, probably. My cheeks flamed at his action.

“Will you let me drive you home, then?” Yunho asked again, voice softer this time and features relaxed, “I don’t want you walking around late at night and in this weather.”

“Alright,” I gave in, clearing my throat as Yunho suddenly grinned widely, “But you should be worried more about yourself, you’re barely wearing anything.”

It made Yunho chuckle as he headed for the passenger seat’s side and opened the door for me. I muttered a small thank you as I carefully slid inside.

“I’m rarely ever cold.” Yunho said with a cheeky wink before closing the door and jogging around to the driver’s side. I allowed myself a quick check-out of the car, eyes widening when I saw the emblem on the wheel. I was sitting inside a Maserati Levante. Just how did Yunho afford this car? The seats were of black leather and it was definitely heated as I felt my body warm up quickly as the engine has been left on. Yunho grinned as he slid inside and quickly buckled his seatbelt, reminding me to do the same as he put on the blinker, signaling that he would drive off now. The car slowly started rolling, pulling away from the store as I gazed out the window, feeling slightly awkward that I was now enclosed in such a small space with Yunho. I took a quick peek at him and watched him gripping the steering wheel lazily, hair framing his face as tonight it wasn’t as wavy as usually. His eyes were set on the road and he licked his lips before glancing at me, making me quickly look back outside the window, hating the way my cheeks instantly flushed. And as we drove by the bus stop, my eyes widened when I spotted the bus which would’ve taken me home.

“You said the bus went by already!” I exclaimed and turned to look at Yunho slightly offended.

“Oh,” He hummed but by the smugness coating his face I knew he had lied on purpose, “my bad, thought I had seen your bus.”

I scoffed and shook my head, melting into the warm seat as I glared ahead, ignoring the fluttering feeling of butterflies in my stomach at the thought that Yunho only lied because he wanted to drive me home. Perhaps he wasn’t so awful at all times.

            Despite me feeling like Yunho brushed over my outburst that night, he seemed to change a bit. He started gradually approaching me at university and even hung out with me during our shared lunch breaks. He also started stopping by the convenience store whenever he had free time and I soon came to know that he lived just a few blocks away from it. Which was a surprise because I have been assuming he lived in some fancy rich neighborhood due to the car he was driving. Nobody really seemed to question our suddenly blooming friendship, although I felt like we still had a long way to go, and Yunho also stopped being so mysterious. He still didn’t answer all of my questions and often changed the subject when I asked about that first night, so I stopped asking about it after a while. I figured that I might get him to tell me at some point, and if not, I could always start asking around. People loved to gossip and maybe they would know something about this Chan guy who had called Yunho a few times while we were hanging out, but he always declined his calls. Tonight was supposed to be a chill night, but my best friend decided that she has had enough of staying at home every Friday and thus dragged us to a house party not far from our university. It was a half an hour walk away from my flat, so we opted to walk and just grab a cab on our way back. The house was large and packed with people as we made our way inside and I sighed at the sight of so many familiar faces. Almost everyone from our university was here and I realized I was tricked into coming to a party organized for our university specifically. My best friend just giggled as I have her a glare, already hating the fact that I had to stay here for hours and hours as she was in the mood to party. The only savior I found at the moment was alcohol, so the two of us made our way into the kitchen, both grabbing some beer from the fridge. Apparently, my best friend knew the host of the party and got us invited easily.

“I really needed this.” My best friend said as she threw her head back, downing half of her beer in one go. I raised my eyebrows at her as I sipped on mine casually.

“I can see that.” I chuckled and allowed my eyes to wander around the kitchen, taking in the faces. A few people above our grade were gathered around the sink, laughing about something and pointing at something. I wasn’t further interested, so I averted my eyes and noticed two friends of Yunho’s.  They were standing in the corner and laughing about something as the taller one had his phone out. My staring must’ve been insistent as he looked up and we made eye contact, a smile appearing on his lips. He smiled and waved as he called us over. Due to Yunho and I hanging out more often lately, he was quick to introduce me to his friend group. They were a nice bunch but a bit too energetic and happy for my liking. My best friend, however, was totally into their vibe and would beg me to hang out with them. It was fine, I knew she wanted to make some new friends and these guys were nice and…handsome.

“Hi!” Mingi was quick to greet us happily and I smiled at him, waving at Seonghwa as my best friend went and hugged him. The two seemed to click instantly, it was nice to see.

“Was it you who urged Sooyoung to come to this party?” I asked Mingi accusingly and he laughed as he looked down.

“It was actually her who gave us the idea of coming here tonight.” I hummed and threw a knowing look at my best friend as she didn’t bother focusing on Mingi and I, already wrapped up in a conversation with Seonghwa.

“I see, I should’ve known.” I chuckled and Mingi nodded while putting his phone away. It was a little unusual that these two were here without Yunho, but I didn’t question it. I knew he wasn’t a big fan of parties and besides, he didn’t tell me he would be coming. Therefore I didn’t expect to see him here.

“Did you finish your project?” I asked Mingi, remembering him complain about it two days ago. Mingi’s shoulder slumped and he started pouting as he stole my beer swiftly.

“Almost, I have to design the garden and then I’m done.” Mingi was a landscape architecture major and he was always busy with projects, barely out of the house if it wasn’t for Seonghwa and Yunho dragging him to places. He was quite dedicated to his work and it was admirable. Especially when I could barely find any inspiration to do my assignments. Whenever we shared a few of our classes I was amazed by his knowledge and drive to learn even more.

“That’s good, you’ve got this, Mingi.” I gave him an encouraging smile and he chuckled, looking at me knowingly.

“So, did you start your design?” I fake laughed and took a swing of my beer after taking it back from Mingi.

“You know me, I’ll do it two or three days before the deadline.”

“At this point I’m afraid you’ll fail.” Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed and I chuckled, shrugging.

“Don’t worry, I function best under pressure.” I saluted him mockingly and Mingi chuckled, soon our attention on Seonghwa as him and Sooyoung approached us.

“I really want to dance,” Seonghwa said, drunkenly gazing at Mingi, “Are you coming?”

Mingi just sighed but stood up, throwing an arm around Seonghwa’s shoulders, “Of course, I’m coming. Someone needs to make sure you don’t trip over your own legs.”

Sooyoung and I chuckled as we followed after the two boys despite me not being too fond of the idea. I didn’t feel like dancing tonight, but I didn’t want to leave Sooyoung alone, and besides, I could see it in Mingi’s eyes that he didn’t want to be alone with the two. Whatever was going on between them, which both were denying, was pretty obvious.

The music was loud in the bigger room compared to the kitchen and I looked around, realizing it must’ve been a sort of library hence the bookcases on both sides of the room were filled with books. My heart broke a bit for the books, I could only hope no one was stupid enough to damage them. Otherwise the room was cleared up and there was a table with a mixing console on it, the DJ standing behind it and playing trendy songs everyone seemed to enjoy. The bas thrummed against my chest and I downed my beer in one go before I pushed through the crowd, making way for myself and my friends. Somewhere in the middle we found a good spot and formed a circle starting to dance.

I couldn’t tell how much time passed before I needed to use the restroom, but just as I went to tell Mingi I would be leaving for a few minutes, he leaned in to tell me that he needed some air. And so, after telling Seonghwa and Sooyoung where we were headed, Mingi and I took off hand in hand towards the exit. We agreed on meeting in the kitchen in around ten minutes before heading back to our friends, and so we parted, going on our way. The bathroom was in the far back of the house and I was thankful as the music didn’t reach here, I could finally hear my thoughts. The air was gradually better too compared to the suffocating heath in the library like room. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long to make it inside the bathroom and I was quick in doing my business, washing my hands thoroughly before splashing some cold water on my face, tapping it against my flaming skin. Perhaps I should join Mingi outside for a second before grabbing another drink. I huffed and smoothed down the top of my hair, baby hairs all over the place, before I unlocked the door and left the quiet bathroom. The hallways had no lights but it was fine as the living room was well lit up and it poured out here too. There was a staircase leading upstairs, but it was barricaded off and I knew not to go upstairs even if I wanted to. Just as I went to walk past the staircase, someone collided into my shoulder, knocking me slightly backwards. I gasped in surprise and looked back, surprised to see a slightly familiar face. The guy was younger, and he quickly apologized before a look of recognition crossed his features. Despite it being almost two months ago, I remembered his name. Chan. The guy Yunho threatened with a gun. I gulped and accepted his apology, about to walk off when he spoke up again.

“Don’t I know you?” He asked with narrowed eyes and I cursed silently, facing him again.

“Uh, barely.” I offered with a small smile and Chan hummed, eyebrows furrowing.

“Weren’t you with Yunho once?” So he remembered too, huh.

“Chan, right?” I raised an eyebrow and suddenly the guy was grinning and extending his hand towards me to shake.

“Knew it,” He said with a chuckle as I reluctantly shook his hand, “I don’t know your name though.”

“It’s Y/N.” I introduced myself and Chan smiled, his grip lingering for a second longer than necessary. It unsettled me as I cleared my throat and very obviously made to leave, but Chan seemed like he wanted to talk a little bit more.

“I had no idea you knew Jeonghan.” My eyebrows raised at the name and I thought for a second until I realized he was the host.

“I don’t, my best friend does though.” I explained and Chan hummed, a small smirk appearing on his lips.

“Now that I come to think of it,” He took a step forward and I willed myself to not move backwards, “Yunho never mentioned you again after that night.”

Oh, well…that didn’t feel nice to know. I thought we were sort of friends by now, but maybe Yunho needed more time. Our relationship dynamic was still weird and most of times I didn’t know where to put us, so maybe Yunho was feeling the same way. Or maybe there was something dangerous about this guy and Yunho just simply avoided talking about me in his presence. Our encounter that night felt almost fresh in my memories and I willed myself to not think about the gun pointed at this younger guy.

“He must have a reason, then.” I found myself answering with a cold smile, ready to excuse myself finally, “My friend is waiting for me—”

“Just because he doesn’t mention you doesn’t mean we don’t know about you, Y/N.” His sinister smile and cold tone sent a chill down my spine and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked at Chan, “Do you have a tattoo?”

That was a very random question, one that took me off guard as my eyebrows raised, “Uh, no, I—”

“What a pleasant sight, Lee Chan.” A sharp tone cut me off and I turned my head to see Yunho approaching us in all of his tall glory. His glare was sharp and body stiff as he came to a stop next to me, instantly pressing his warm palm against the small of my back. It made me straighten up slightly as I gazed at Yunho’s profile, surprised to see him here.

“Thought you weren’t coming, Yunho.” Chan said with a chuckle, eyes falling between the two of us and the non-existent space between our bodies as Yunho pressed up against me, his musky cologne invading my senses.

“Maybe you should check on your friend, Chan, he might be unable to walk for a week or two.” The dark smirk which crossed Yunho’s lips made me gulp, and I watched as Chan’s expression fell, suddenly it felt like we were back to that chilly night out on the street.

“You son of a bitch,” Chan hissed and marched up to Yunho, who didn’t even as a little as flinched, “What did you do to Hansol?”

“Nothing he won’t survive.” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked up at Yunho, who seemed to be unbothered by my piercing gaze. Chan hissed under his breath and with one lasting glare quickly stormed off, grabbing for his phone as he raced towards the front door. I released a breath I didn’t know I had been holding just as Yunho faced me, and I took in his attire in surprise. His black long-sleeved blouse was tight and was unclasped down to his chest, blank ink peeking through from underneath on his left pectoral. His outfit was completed by black leather pants and his black hair, which fell messily against his forehead. I was snapped out of my staring the second I felt Yunho caging me in against the railing of the staircase, big palm still pressing against the small of my back, eyes very slowly dragging up from his exposed milky chest to his chocolate warm brown eyes, which were narrowed and carried a hint of frustration.

“What did he want?” His voice was low and it brought a flush to my cheeks as I looked up at him, suddenly all too aware of the lack of space between us.

“Nothing much.” I muttered with a shrug, but Yunho didn’t seem to believe me as he lowered his head, eyes boring into mine. His gaze made my skin crawl and my fingers twitched as I placed my hands behind my back, doing everything in me I could to focus on his eyes and not on his cherry red plush lips, which were too close to my face all of a sudden.

“Don’t lie to me.” His right knuckles grazed against the skin of my cheek and I gulped as something coiled in my stomach. Was I this transparent? He could read me so easily.

“He just asked if I have a tattoo or something.” I answered after a beat of silence and Yunho’s eyebrows slightly furrowed as I dared to peek at his chest again, the ink more visible because of his stance. The collar of his shirt fell lower and I could make out a thick line which went in a circle and the tip of a letter, perhaps A?

“And what did you say?” His forefinger was suddenly underneath my chin as he tipped my head back, pulling my eyes away from his chest. I blushed furiously because of the amusement in Yunho’s eyes and the wide smirk on his lips, I was caught staring. His voice was low and breathy and I bit my lower lip for a second, trying to ignore his proximity and scent as his head seemed to be even closer to mine right now.

“No—nothing,” I exhaled and licked my lips, “you got here when I was answering him.”

“Good girl.” My legs shouldn’t have almost given out at his praise, but my mind wasn’t clear anymore. Yunho’s scent and proximity were intoxicating and I sure as hell wasn’t drunk from one beer, but everything about Yunho made me feel like it. I don’t know when it happened, but I couldn’t pull my eyes off Yunho whenever we were hanging out. And when we were at university, I was just like the others, flocking towards his bright and warm aura, desperate for his attention at times. When it was just the two of us, I yearned for his warmth and dangerous eyes, often breathless when his voice dropped to chastise me for something. When we hung out with our circle of close friends, I wanted his undivided attention on myself only. I had come to realize that Jeong Yunho was insanely good-looking and his mysterious aura was nothing but a little spark which made him even more irresistible.   

“Wanna get out of here?” I heard him asking once I was done daydreaming, “I know you don’t like parties.”

I nodded wordlessly and as Yunho slowly, without breaking eye contact, pulled away I almost chased after him, hands balling up into fists in order to prevent myself of doing something I might regret later. There wasn’t a label to our relationship, but friends certainly didn’t want to fuck each other, therefore I needed to keep myself in check and control my desires.

            After letting our friends know that Yunho and I would be leaving we got our jackets and went up to Yunho’s car. It was slightly dirty, which made me wonder where he had been as he had a habit of keeping his car crystal clean, even just a speck of dust made him wash it. The car ride was quicker than I expected as we flew through the quiet city, lights blurring at the speed Yunho was driving. He wasn’t a reckless driver, but it seemed like he was eager to get home. I couldn’t blame him, there was nothing better than the feeling of finally reaching home after a long and tiring day. I could imagine Yunho’s had been the same after he texted me in the morning that he had some business outside of the city and wouldn’t attend his classes, therefore we wouldn’t meet up. It was a surprise that he even made it to the party. It wasn’t the first time Yunho and I hung out in his apartment, but it was the first time I had come here so late and without a real purpose. Usually we huddled together to study, Yunho’s determination finally rubbing off on me to do to my assignments in time or when our friend group wanted to hang out and have a chill night.

After Yunho and I got settled, he went and grabbed a bottle of red wine, saying he needed it after the day he had. I didn’t complain as I watched him from the couch, body turned around and eyes running all over his frame. The clothes he wore did an amazing job at showing off his forms and I couldn’t help it but linger on his shoulders and waist as he had his back to me, grabbing around his counter while he had the wine in front of him. He popped it open without much struggle and then poured some red wine in two glasses, putting the bottle away. I watched as he turned around and leaned his hips against the counter, crossing one arm over his chest as he grabbed a glass and raised it to his lips, closing his eyes. He took a small sniff of the beverage before taking a long sip, letting out a content sigh. The image shouldn’t have made the hairs on my skin stand, yet all I could do was watch and gulp, mind blank until Yunho’s dark eyes snapped open and he smiled. It was mischievous as he spoke up.

“Won’t you get yours?” He pointed at the second glass and I hummed, wondering whether I should mix beer and wine, but it’s been a few hours since I last had beer. Besides, I was feeling fine. It shouldn’t do any damage. So, I pushed off the couch and approached him carefully, feeling fidgety under his sharp gaze. His eyes followed my every step as I stopped next to him and grabbed the glass, copying him. I sniffed it before I took a careful sip of it, the sweet taste exploding in my mouth. I hummed and took a bigger sip, appreciative of its taste. Yunho was smiling as he sipped his, and we remained standing like that as I tried to find anything to look at which wasn’t Yunho. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was getting too much and I felt like I needed to break it, so I spoke up, “You never told me you had a tattoo.”

Yunho eyebrows slightly raised, almost surprised that I knew, until he glanced down at himself and chuckled, “Ah, I forgot this blouse was low cut.”

“It’s not low cut,” I snickered, “You’re just wearing it like that.”

“Are you saying I should button up?” He asked with a playful smirk and I just smiled while shrugging. If he did that perhaps I would stop staring, but I wasn’t about to say that to him.

“So…does it mean anything?” I asked nonchalantly, having now an excuse to look at his exposed chest as Yunho glanced down too. He remained silent as he looked up, eyes searching my face for a few seconds before he lowered his glass on the counter.

“Not one you’re expecting to hear.” He said lowly and I raised an eyebrow as he suddenly stepped closer, looking down at me with a serious expression and darkening eyes, “Do you want to know?”

I gulped and busied myself with the glass I had in my hand as I looked down at it, pursing my lips in thought. I was trying to ignore the rapid beating of my heart but Yunho took away my only distraction as he took the glass from my hands and placed it on the counter next to his, now I was forced to look at him.

“I guess.” I muttered, hoping he couldn’t hear the shake of my voice. His scent was once again all around me and it was hard to focus on anything he was saying.

“But if I tell you…” He took a step forward, making me step back and collide into the counter, “and you tell anyone…”

My body tensed as he reached forward and pressed his thumb against my lower lip, eyes focused on my lips, “I will have to kill you, angel.”

I gulped as I shuddered, and Yunho lightly dragged my lower lip down, licking his lips as we looked at each other. His gaze was challenging and dark, lips about to break into a sneer as I was scared but intrigued, “I won’t tell anyone.”

“How can I know for sure?” Was he testing me? His voice dropped to an almost whisper and he cocked his head to the side, eyebrows raised almost mockingly, “You have a vengeful personality, who knows what you’ll blabber on about if I happen to hurt you.”

“Don’t hurt me then.” I snapped and Yunho chuckled, but there was nothing amusing about it.

“Are you reckless or simply dumb?” He was taunting me and I didn’t like it. I grabbed his wrist and glared at him, pulling his hand back and thumb off my lips.

“That’s some nerve coming from someone who was everywhere I went and knows everything about me without actually knowing me.” Yunho’s lips pulled up into an amused grin at the way I snapped at him, nose scrunched in annoyance.

“I’m in a gang,” He stepped impossibly close and placed both hands on the counter on both sides of body, “A very dangerous gang, the tattoo is to signify where I belong to.”

I gulped, slightly thrown off. I was expecting many reasons to answer the enigma around Yunho, but I didn’t exactly envision him being involved into gang activities or the mafia, even. Was he just simply not saying? Wouldn’t be the first time he lied to me.

“Why did Chan ask if I have a tattoo?” My voice was hard and I tried not to shake when I felt Yunho’s large hands gripping my waist. His hold was firm, like he was afraid I would run away.

“Because,” Yunho licked his lips as he lowered his head so I didn’t have to crane my neck up so high, “if you’re mine you have to get the tattoo as well.”

“But I’m not yours.” I quickly said as I tried to process everything and ignore the way Yunho’s grip tightened around my hips and jaw clenched, “And I don’t want to have a tattoo.”

“Then you won’t have one,” Yunho’s tongue peeked out as he liked his lips swiftly, his eyes glued onto my lips, “But you are mine, Y/N.”

Before I could ask him since when, Yunho closed the gap between us and pressed his plush lips against mine. I didn’t mean to flinch, but it was unexpected and rough as his hands on my waist pushed me up onto the counter, easing the height difference a little between us. I kissed back when I felt him about to pull back, probably thrown off by my lack of response, and Yunho was quick to smash his lips against mine with a fever, setting a hasty and messy rhythm as my head was tilted back and arms circled around his shoulders. It was everything I have envisioned and yet nothing like it. His lips were plush and warm yet rough and relentless as he bit at my lower lip, almost as if he was trying to inhale the whole of me. His scent was the only thing I could smell around us and my brain was fogged up as Yunho’s lean body pressed into mine, pushing me flushed against himself by placing his hand on my back. My legs parted wider, making more space for Yunho as one of my hands traveled towards his hair, gripping at the black wavy strands firmly. His warmth was overwhelming and it made me breathless as his large hand wrapped around my neck as if he needed something to hold onto. My lungs were screaming for air and I pulled back once it got too much, lightheaded as I leaned forward, teeth attaching against the soft skin of Yunho’s neck. His chest was falling and rising rapidly, just as breathless as I was feeling, the hand from my neck traveling to my nape as I pressed open mouthed kisses against his skin, lips trailing down to his collarbone. Yunho groaned when I bit lightly at it, teasing and licking, before I was pulled back and forcefully met with lips against my own. It didn’t take long for Yunho to push his tongue against my lips, asking for permission. I opened up without hesitation, letting him take the lead as his wet tongue licked against mine, humming, the vibrations traveling through my whole body as I pulled on the smaller strands of his hair. Yunho tasted like the red wine he just had, sweet and so intoxicating that I couldn’t get enough of him. His tongue explored my mouth as my hips bucked against him and I wasn’t surprised to find him just as affected as I was feeling. I could feel him through his leather pants and the friction was much needed against my throbbing core as I grinded against him once again, catching his lower lip between my teeth as he went to pull back. Yunho’s eyes were the darkest I had ever seen them and his cheeks were lightly flushed as he grabbed my nape firmly, jaw clenching and lips plump from the kissing.

“Bedroom, right now.” His voice was raspy and it sent a chill down my spine as I quickly clung onto him, legs firm around his waist as he walked us to his bedroom, large hands holding me up by my ass and allowing me to grind against him as Yunho groaned and nipped at my lower lip until we were standing in his dark bedroom. He carefully lowered me and onto the ground and I was quick to get rid of my jeans and shirt, helping Yunho in undoing the zipper of his leather pants as he had gotten rid of his blouse. I allowed myself to stare unabashedly at his body, taking in his lean but muscular form as he towered over me, stomach well defined and thighs thick. It was a sight worthy for drooling and I snapped out of it when Yunho started walking me backwards, not expecting me to palm him through his boxers. He sucked in a harsh breath and allowed me to feel him up and massage him before I was pushed down onto the bed by my shoulders. I scooted back before he crawled towards me and leaned down to press kisses against my neck and shoulder, tongue flattening against the flush skin of my collarbones before he sucked hard at a patch of skin, making me groan at the sting. His kisses didn’t stop there as he kissed down between my breasts, biting at the skin before he continued, all the way down to my stomach. I was panting and itching to grip onto his hair, but his face was in front of mine in an instant and he kissed me breathless once again. My nails dug into his back as my hands roamed over it, mapping every flaw of his skin, soaking in his warmth. Before I could register it, his fingers were ghosting over my thigh and slowly itching closer to my panties. I groaned into his mouth as he yanked them down, eyes opened as Yunho pulled back just slightly, hot breath hitting my face as one finger slowly slipped inside my wet hole. I gasped at the feeling and Yunho groaned, lips pressing against my cheek as he pushed himself up by one hand near my head. He slowly started thrusting it in and out, making my eyebrows furrow as he dragged the movement out, not waiting long to add another long finger. I grabbed his arm as my toes curled and hips lifted off the soft cover of the bed, trying to meet his lazy thrusts. They weren’t enough and they made my skin burn as my other hand tangled into his hair.

“Please, Yunho,” I whispered out, moan choked back as his thumb pressed against my clit, stomach coiling at the added sensation, “Faster.”

His teeth bit into the skin of my jaw, not hard enough to leave a bruise as he slightly picked up his pace, fingers curling against my walls and making my back arch off the bed as he rubbed harsher and faster against my clit, fingers thrusting in and out. A knot was forming in my stomach as more sound left my lips, sharp exhales and broken moans as Yunho’s fingers reached the spot which made my back arch off the bed, my own hips picking up its pace as I chased for an orgasm.

“Such a good girl,” Yunho rasped in my ear, making me moan as his finger grazed the spot again, “you were so patient for me.”

“Yunho.” Our eyes connected and I pulled his head closer by the hand I had tangled in his hair, “Please—”

“Not yet.” He bit my lower lip as his hand stilled, making me whine as my walls clenched down against his fingers, every nerve in my body burning. I tried to move my hips despite it, but Yunho’s fingers quickly were pulled out from where I needed him most and I watched helplessly as he sat back, the tent in his boxers obvious. He proceeded to pull my panties all the way down before getting rid of his own boxers, pumping himself as his head fell back. I watched with hungry eyes as his size came as no surprise, matching the massivity of his body. He reached over my head, holding a package as he opened it, putting on the condom before he hovered over my body. For a second he didn’t move and my skin tingled in anticipation as I reached my arms around his shoulders, pulling his hot body against mine, whispering in his ear.

“Yunho, just fuck me already.” I didn’t expect him to moan and before I could blink, his tip was at my entrance, slowly pushing in. My mouth opened as I clenched my eyes shut, surprised at the burn as he stretched me out more and more as he slid inside. He was bigger than anyone I was with before and I needed a moment to adjust to his size as Yunho pressed kisses all over my face, biting my earlobe.

“You can’t tell anyone.” He said lowly, and despite our predicament I heard the threat in his words.

“Which part?” I questioned despite knowing what he was talking about, hand trailing down his smooth back.

“The gang part.” Yunho clarified, as if I needed it, lightly thrusting up. I gasped and gripped his sides, walls clenching around him, making him groan.

“I won’t, I won’t, just—” My voice broke off as he did the same again, smirk on his lips, “Move, please, Yunho.”

“As you wish, angel.” He whispered in my ear before pulling out almost all the way and slamming back inside, making me gasp loudly as I didn’t expect it. Yunho’s smirk stayed glued to his lips as he did it again, ripping a loud whine from between my lips, nails digging into his skin as he set an excruciatingly slow rhythm. It did no good but rile me up and make me reach around for anything to hold onto as my body flamed, walls clenching more around him, desperate for more friction. But Yunho seemed to enjoy the desperate state I was in as he chuckled, and suddenly, I felt his big hands bringing mine together, pushed above my head as he pinned my wrists together and pushed them down harshly into the mattress. He suddenly was moving, getting up onto his knees and sitting back as his right hand slipped under my lower back, guiding me up, lower back hovering in the air. Yunho only paused for a small second, eyes connecting with mine before he moved, sharp and clear, pace nothing like the slow one previously. I moaned loudly as he started rocking his hips harshly, pace relentless and dick reaching deeper than before, making my hands ball up into fists as I couldn’t hold onto anything with Yunho pinning them above my head. It didn’t take long for Yunho to get vocal, cursing under his breath as his eyes were closed and he was biting his lower lip, pace picking up the louder my moans got. I couldn’t focus on anything else but the pleasure building up in my lower abdomen and the electricity coursing through my veins, mind wrapped up in the scent of Yunho, the feel of Yunho…Yunho.

“Yunho.” He was the only thing I could think about and at the desperation in my voice he got rougher, pistoning his hips at an unforgiving pace, making me cry out in pleasure as my hips thrusted up, chasing for an orgasm as I tried to meet Yunho’s frantic thrusts. He finally released my wrists and gripped my hips firmly with both hands as he helped me move against him, my head thrown back at the constant ripples of pleasure as my fingers tangled into the sheets above head and twisted hard, moans of Yunho’s name tumbling through my lips. He was panting loudly and whines left his lips as I could feel him throbbing and I knew he was close like I was.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.” He moaned out as my walls clenched down hard on his length, toes curling and mind completely fogged up with pleasure. The second his cold thumb started rubbing circles against my clit I saw stars and I came with a high-pitched moan of his name, Yunho’s hips stuttering before he guided my hips, riding out my orgasm just as he muttered a quiet fuck before he came too, groan low and guttural, movements never ceasing until it became too much and I whined, gripping his wrist in an attempt to ask him to stop as I haven’t managed to find my voice yet. Yunho groaned as his hips stuttered and slowly stopped, panting hard as he stared down at me. My eyes took him in before they stuck to the tattoo on his left pectoral. It was big. A big circle going around the letter A and cutting into it at the bottom. I shuddered as he slipped out and got off the bed, leaving my limp body on the bed to recover as my fingers tangled in my hair in an attempt to tame the wild strands. Yunho got rid of the used condom before he stood by the bed, towering over me. We stared at each other for a few seconds before he leaned down and tucked the covers away, effortlessly picking me up and slipping me underneath them. He got in next to me and pulled the soft covers over our bodies. I sighed in content at the warmth spreading over my naked body and nuzzled my nose into the pillow which smelled so much like Yunho. I felt him shift behind me before the front of his big body was pressed against my back, a hand coming around my body to hold me. I didn’t expect him to grip my neck firmly and push me back even more into himself as he slightly leaned over me. I was able to look at him from the corner of my eyes and I watched the menacing look on his face and the darkness in his chocolate brown eyes as he leaned close enough to be able to whisper.

“You don’t have to get a tattoo,” Despite his expression, his tone was soft, “but you’re mine and everyone else will know about it. I’ll make sure.”

I gulped as Yunho pressed a chaste kiss against my cheek before his long fingers slipped from my neck, making me realize I had been holding my breath. I released it shakily and felt him settle down behind me once again, nose pushing against my shoulder blade as his arm was firmly planted around my middle.

“Alright, let’s say I’m yours for now.” I found myself saying, but didn’t expect the chuckle from Yunho. I didn’t like being called nicknames nor being claimed like I was an object, but they didn’t sound so bad coming from Yunho’s mouth, they held no menace nor ulterior motives.

I didn’t know what this made us, but I knew I had one or two secrets to keep and that Yunho wasn’t letting me go nowhere from his sight.

⟨Part 2⟩

[billyvell]

On Lochlan, his sexuality and incest

Ok, so the following text was written with reddit in mind, so my tone is a bit more... idk, serious and cautious than it usually is, but I decided to post it here as well, cause this whole topic has been eating me up. I'm also aware that I'm kinda preaching to the choir when it comes to how tumblr sees this situation, but still.

Ok, so I was thinking of waiting for the end of the season to talk about this, but to be honest it's been kind of driving me mad.

For a while now, there has been debate about what exactly is going on with Lochy and his relationship with his brother and what exactly is the truth behind this whole situation. After all the debate about him supposedly being an evil predator who spit the pill (which he didn't!) so he could take advantage of Saxon, it seems that now most people have settled on "he was just genuinely trying to help and the handy was bad but not actually incestuous in nature", and I kind of understand why because this is pretty much how the actor is explaning his character away, but I'm gonna be honest, I don't think that's really the case.

I don't want to discredit Sam entirely, cause I do believe that actors' opinions matter as it affects how they play things, but he's still not the writer/director/anything with actual input in the story, and both he and Patrick have also said that Mike White decided to leave things up for interpretation, and he hasn't given any interviews or explained his thoughts himself (well, apparently he mentioned something about a "gay storyline that is truly satanic", as that's mentioned in a couple articles, and if that is true, the fact that he's even referring to it as a gay storyline kinda supports my point).

I actually agree with most of what Sam has said, which is that Lochy is a people pleaser who is desperate for approval and attention. As of these last few episodes, he has basically followed his brother's lead and done everything that Saxon has told him to. I do believe he did not have any malicious intentions.

However, this doesn't necessarily negate the idea of him being sexually attracted to him. I think the way Sam talks about it, as well as a large part of the audience, comes from the idea that it has to be either one of two extremes: Either Lochy is a creep and a freak and predatory, or he's actually just a teenager helping out his brother in a no homo way... Which honestly just doesn't compute.

If you pay attention, there has been a lot of stuff suggesting Lochy is queer. Whether he's gay or bi I don't know, and I don't think it really matters, but I just can't possibly think he's straight. I'm gonna list all the ways that I think indicate that, and I will warn that some will probably be considered a reach by some, but others imo are very clear, and I ask you to read this with an open mind.

1 - From the beginning, he has the dilemma of going to Duke or Tar Heel for college. As in, will he follow the same path as the men of his family or the women. He doesn't know himself. This could mean different things, like does going to Duke makes him more masculine like his father and brother, or does it mean that he's choosing their side as in... choosing men? And vice-versa. Not like it's an actual choice, but again, as a storytelling device.

2 - Both his parents (but particularly the dad, I think) are adamant on him fixing his posture. Straightening his spine. Making him stand up straight. Saxon also encourages this, on the same situations where he encourages him to hook up with women or drink his protein shakes to get buff.

3 - If you think the last point is a reach, in the very session that he takes for said issue, the therapist tells him that he sits in a defensive posture because he's "protecting himself with his female side."

4 - He's the one who notices the "ladyboys" and asks "Dad, are they women?". When Saxon makes his joke about them, "you never know which one is gonna have nuts", he looks visibly uncomfortable. He tries to laugh at it like he does with most of his jokes, but for that one he can't. You can see that he's affected.

On his mother's dream, she also sees him sitting with two "ladyboys" as he talks about the tsunami.

5 - When Saxon is getting drinks for them on the Full Moon Party, he says "pink one for the lady" and tries to hand it to Chelsea. When she refuses and goes to take her call, Lochy takes it instead.

Now, to kinda go back on the Saxon/incest-related.

If you're a straight guy, losing your virginity to a woman, would you really be so focused on jerking off another man? Even if it's like, some guy you really like such as your best friend or your brother? I don't know. And he didn't seem to be actually that interested in Chloe to me. Not grossed out either, so I don't think he has to be gay necessarily rather than bi/pan/whatever, but still.

Chloe also mentioned how young virgin guys get all flustered and shaking with their hearts beating rapidly when they take off their clothes and etc, that she wanted that kind of attention. Yet we don't see any kind of excitement from Lochy over her, really. If you look at Saxon's memories, Lochy only smiles when he's looking at Saxon and Saxon looks like he's about to come (as he jerks his body up).

Going back to the first episode... Many people have rationalized that scene as not really being sexual. I know what Sam has said about it on interviews, too. But I just don't think it checks out. There is a real focus on Saxon being naked and Lochy staring at him. That soundtrack, which seems to be one that plays when something kind of spicy and perhaps unsettling is happening, starts playing right as we get the shot of Saxon walking naked with his ass on full display. It continues as Lochy is looking at him.

And then Saxon notices, and even him, who has no boundaries and was talking about porn and sex, seems a little freaked out when he does. As Saxon closes the door, Lochy looks like he's either embarrassed for being caught looking, disappointed that he closed the door, or both.

And then on episode 2 we have the scene of him waking up. And again the first thing he sees is Saxon's ass, and then he goes wash his face and looks in the mirror. Yeah, this isn't quite proof of anything, but what is the purpose of the scene then, why was it written and shot and kept in the final edit? Especially when you consider it in addition to the previous one.

And lastly, spoiler alert, in one of the trailers/promos,there are scenes where he says to Piper "I don't want to give in to my dark shit" and "if everyone gave in to their base instincts, it'd be total depravity."

If he does not have any incestuous feelings for Saxon, what is this "dark shit" he has in him that he's talking about? For the second one there could be some other context, but even then it seems like he's thinking of his own "base instincts" as depraved.

To go back to what Sam has been saying on interviews a bit, I think a lot of it comes from the fact that he wants to defend Lochy and believe that he's a good person, especially after the reactions to episode 5 where so many people were saying that Lochy was a creep, a predator, some kind of evil mastermind/manipulator and theorizing that he had spit out his pill and was perfectly sane.

I think he feels the need to defend him and not paint him in such a negative light, and because incest is a thing that is considered, well, bad by most people, he's denying that as well. In another interview he also said actors need to find a way to love and connect with the character no matter what, and I think this is a big part of it, not seeing him as fully incestuous if one thinks that incest is something irredeemable.

Both he and many people watching also seem to think that Lochy thinking of the handjob or even the kiss as him wanting to make Saxon happy and impressed automaticaly negates him being attracted to him and having any other feelings about it, but that isn't necessarily the case. It can be both, it makes sense that it's both imo, and I think that's part of what makes him and this storyline as a whole so interesting, that there are so many layers to it.

But in my mind, with all of the context we have for the character in relation to both his relationship with Saxon and in regards to how his own identity and individual arc is portrayed, I think Lochy is definetely queer, and indeed attracted to his brother. And when you put these two things together, it can easily be explained as something similar to, if not straight up the same thing, as the Oedipus/Electra complex.

Lochy, even though he's legally an adult at 18, is clearly still developing in many ways, including his sexuality, and Saxon is the closest male figure in his life, not to mention one who's showing up naked in front of him and talking about sex.

If you're grossed out by it and want it to be explained away, or get some comfort about it in general, I think it would make sense for him to sort of grow out of that as he gets older and more secure in himself/his sexuality, especially after the confusion and guilt he feels over what he did as seen in the monastery scene when he remembers things.

[lenoue]

I saw a drawing of Sam as a woman and Dean still as a man. It blew my mind to think about how much worse this situation could be for Sam. Add to that the fact that all of Sam's partners are men, plus she still went to Stanford (which, in Dean's mind, means she left the family), and everything that happens in the show.

Dean is already controlling, but this would make it even worse. I think he would see every one of Sam's partners as direct competition. They're men, and they can offer Sam security, a stable life, and everything that comes with having a boyfriend.

if i think too long about sam as a woman in spn i feel like committing arson

dean would be such a possessive fucker over her. you can't even gauze how dean treats other women with how he'd treat sam. bcs sammy is always different, always special. she would be treated like his property and people around her would tell her its just how she knows he loves her.

dean wouldn't hit her as much but would definitely backhand her around s4-s5, that's degrading and essential to their dynamic (and cause spn has weird morals about degrading treatment of "evil" women being okay cause they're more evil than women)

he would put her through so much shit for having a partner. always make it about "what is it sammy, what am i doing wrong here? am i not enough? that's it isn't it, im just never enough for you? I'll just leave and you can run off to the fucking sunset with that dickhead" and sam would just break it off to placate him.

oh and also he'd definitely call her a whore at some point

[purehoneyblossom]

I feel like shaking the table in honor of the last day of this mercury retrograde.

DISCLAIMER: Astrology is subjective and should never be looked at as definitive. So, when you're viewing astro observations or notes, please take it with a handful of salt. Including this post. This spiritual shit is meant to teach you more about yourself, not to solve all your problems or give you the answers to life's biggest questions.

scorpio sun is the worst scorpio placement to have and I wish you all would stop including them with other scorpio placements bc they are totally different vibe.

taurus' placements are who yall think scorpio placements are.

also, taurus men 🤝 sabotaging their own attractiveness.

Why don't we also talk about how having heavy Saturn placements, Venus-Saturn, Saturn in 7th, etc. as a young person makes you more susceptible than the average young person to being groomed/sexually assaulted by older individuals?

I hope that everyone of you who hold on to the stereotype of libras being liars meets a libra who is not only not scared of being honest, but cuts you deeply with the truth 🙃

scorpio moon women 🤝 never forgiving your father for mistreating your mother.

Black gemini sun men 🤝 loving white/racially ambiguous women.

Pisces men 🤝 lacking authentic charisma

What is with aquarius suns and being able to articulate themselves or a situation in an intellectual manner but still ending up in the stupidest, avoidable, thoughtless circumstances? Like does your brain work or not?

I think people with prominent aquarius placements tend to like the idea of being perceived as intellectual rather than doing the actual work or feeling the brunt of being an intellectual. For example, J. Cole the rapper (aqua sun) appearing to be very "woke" in his earlier work just for him to expose himself later on by saying he doesn't even read books..................

Oh to be a woman with prominent libra placements or stellium... you encounter jealousy from all genders and its unfair because no matter what we they do, people will still send the evil eye regardless. Avoid being in situations where you're the big fish in a small pond.

not an observation but really wish yall would stop tagging shit that has nothing to do with astrology or astrology observations. yall annoying af.

[comfortless]

so. please consider: König is a prince (yeah we aren’t going full king this route, maybe he has an older brother or some complications having the throne to himself but either way he has some power just not all of it lol) and reader is part of a performing troupe that usually acts out plays outside of the castle. he goes out to watch them and becomes so desperate for her that he gets /her/ to perform as /him/ when the plays are about his heroic deeds or whatever.

i have had this idea stuck in my head for days and i just know you can bring it to life 🩵

the evil little König in my head took over. no one look at me. 🥩🏰

prince!König x fem reader.

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. dubcon. mentions of adultery (not committed by reader or König), corruption kink (virgin!König), cunnilingus, light roleplay, scent & praise kink, smut (piv), reader is kind of evil here (König still manages to be worse), allusions to abduction.

“You are certainly lovelier than my wife, the Queen!”

He had his sword drawn, not high enough to elicit panic, but just enough to know that yes, there was a very present threat. This could be a bloodbath in an instant. Speak another word — he won’t refrain. He feels his teeth grit, grating, ash in the mouth and in the air.

The actors are unaware where they are stood on stage, and the mass of bodies surrounding barely take note of their Prince. A phantom. Loathed thing that he has always been. More hated than even their lecherous, stupid king. There’s only one thing he’s good for and it’s never been politics; there’s no need to garner up public appeal when your stage is a foreign field littered with blood and corpses.

Another insult to his poor mother and the city could be one too.

From a small wooden booth acting as a prop depiction of a brothel, steps a woman. Barefoot, bare flesh, the only thing she wears is a breast band and a loincloth of finely stitched lace. She isn’t a whore, not in truth, but she looks the part of the women his men rush to the second they’ve returned home. Ale and sex in abundance, and he’s never had the focus for the latter after a round of the former.

He watches as she sways, draws her hand to her forehead and bats her lashes while her other trails up her thigh to the hem of the piece concealing her womanhood. She stops with a laugh, turns to the crowd with sparkling eyes and says, “You lot should not cheer! The Queen surely deserves better than a womanizing fool!”

König’s never been one for plays, how tactlessly they slander the royal family and make jest of current affairs. This troupe, though… he thinks it’s done in taste. Or maybe it’s just her.

Even as the aging performer with his weathered face and messy gray beard acting the part of his father rushes to the pretty thing on stage and paws at her waist, König can not tear his eyes away.

The scene reaches its end when the brothel is burned, enacting something horrible the king had done several springs ago. Bereaved, the woman returns to the stage and bares her breasts, monologuing so sweetly as she feigns tears for her fallen sisters.

König swears to be nothing like his father but he still finds his trousers fitting more tightly at the sight, not foul enough to touch himself here, if ever at all. His heart aches with each fragile word spilled from those plush lips, and his cock demands further engagement with each gentle sway of her body and heave of her round tits.

His sword slots back into place at his hip when the scene comes to an end: the crowd a storm of laughter, the fire of the torches illuminating the street flickering, the actors dissipate behind the wooden stage, and all at once the play is over.

Tactless and impulsive, he thinks to thank her for not furthering the set-up for a joke, looks the part of a proper fool when he makes his way backstage where she’s sat wiping away carmine from her cheeks. The actress’ eyes go wide and hazy when she catches sight of him towering over her, the cloth and mirror slipping from her hands to rest on the table.

Of course, she takes it as a warning, asks him if he would prefer they only act out the current affairs— the recent siege of the southern kingdom, maybe? Or a story about the harvest festival? The gods or beasts? Anything she can sputter out to the man she easily recognizes as being the Prince.

König only finds himself further endeared when she dips her head as if ashamed and moves to conceal the bare skin of her stomach as though it would be insulting to see her in such a state of undress.

He excitedly tells her about the siege, of how he slaughtered those treasonous men and so valiantly brought their women and children to the capital to live much more honest lives, boasting while she looks on in acute, wonderous horror. That’s what he chooses, even pulls his hood from his face and drops it into her lap when he tells her she has to play his part.

The actress explains to him, docile and sweet, that she’s never played a male role and certainly lacks the stature to accurately represent him of all people. To which, he laughs, bids her a farewell with a flick of his wrist and wanders back out into the cobblestone and muck to finish up his patrol of the city.

A fortnight later, she returns to the stage in hastily put on armors, his veil hanging proudly about her head, a wooden sword clasped tightly in her hands. The crowd watching laughs at her expense as she tries in earnest to perfect the way she imagined his sword must have danced during that siege. The male actors fall with each tap of the weapon’s tip, and her voice takes on a forced, deeper tone when she speaks her praises to the kingdom she’s pilfered glory for.

König only sees fire, not in the flames of torches but lain out before him, a heat that courses from the picture of this beautiful little doe on stage straight down to simmer in his chest, his stomach. She’s so cute, pretending and doing her best just to appease him that he finds himself backstage again once the play concludes.

It’s just to talk, to congratulate her on a wonderful performance. He even presents a hefty sack of gold coins to her when she returns his veil, and she marvels at the donation, takes each piece and turns it in her fingers for a time before setting the little bag on the table.

Her brow scrunches for a moment before she settles on offering her hand out to him, fingertips ghosting over his upper thigh, loitering on the armor shell protecting him and drifting further up until he takes her hand and interlocks their fingers. Surely then, the actress comes to realize that her prince is as pure as the sisters in their temples.

She breathes out a laugh and shakes her head.

“I mean to pleasure you, my Prince,” she says, less meek now and more insisting. Her hand draws back to remove the prop armor from her body, eyes never leaving his own.

Though he considers the woman’s offer heavily, pulse stampeding and heart aching, he does eventually will himself to voice a weak refusal.

Never does he keep himself holed away from her for long, even after; König returns for each play whilst his men go about patrolling the city for prowlers and thieves. He watches each performance and continuously seeks her out backstage after. They talk each time, with him offering his suggestions and her clamoring for excuses as to why, no, she isn’t fit to play his role for another fight or some drab court meeting.

Finally, the same song and dance proves too much.

This night, there is no play and König still finds himself in the room cluttered with set pieces and props. The other actors have gone about seeking their own affairs for the evening; bedsides to coax comfort from or mugs of ale and bowls of bone to drown themselves in whilst gambling away the coins the hungering crowd has thrown their way.

She sits with him, perched up on her little table wearing nothing at all. Her skin is lit aglow by candlelight, the incense burning bathing all in the welcoming, warm comfort of lavender and rosemary. There’s ash in his chest again when he finds himself at her side, already aching with a want that should not exist, one that he would deny in full with bared teeth and blurry vision.

Only, she doesn’t prompt him with questions when her palms splay flat at the chest of his tunic, just grins like a wolf given a fat leg of mutton when she feels him begin to tense. She assures him that she’s only teaching him to act after demanding that he kneel, catches his jaw atop her hand and guides his face between her thighs where he then pants and groans at the foreign, enticing scent.

It awakens something in him, something bathed out and buried in blood, the very same that courses through his veins like a violent river now. A feral look and an iron grip on her hips that would leave bruises is all she gets. All until she hisses out the words, “I am your princess and you will do as I ask.”

The first lick is hesitant, clumsy, his stubble grazed over her most sensitive parts as he slips his tongue across the smoothness of her slit. He doesn’t have an idea of what he’s doing, only enacting the vile things he’s heard men about the castle speak of, how to properly take a woman apart and push her to not only want, but to need.

Mostly, she’s unimpressed.

When he gathers her taste on his tongue, he becomes a man possessed, ripped away from duty and sovereignty and brought down to the lowness of mere swine. He groans into her cunt, laps and suckles at anything his tongue and lips can touch, savors the sight, dewy and swollen when he presses a kiss to the bud that finally does get her to purr.

“Sweet boy..,” she coos to him when her hands find his hair, petting him so gently as he continues to lap at her clit. “You’re taking such good care of your princess, yes?”

His mind blanks entirely, driven forward with a renewed, feverish vigor as he dismantles her wholly with a drooling mouth and an unrelenting stare. Rationality should have pulled him away before it ever got to this point; she’s a peasant, and he can’t run amok fathering bastards and condemning himself to Hell for a simple woman. But that’s all beaten back by her taste, the way she writhes in his hold, keeps whispering her praises and lacing those soft fingers through his hair… no amount of devils or men could pry him from her cunt.

Only she does when her voice comes in a pant and her grip tightens to pull him back. The table, his face, all sticky and wet with what must have been her very essence, drawn out by a man lacking experience but so unknowingly eager.

“Take off your clothes,” comes her next demand, one he obliges with a great hesitance.

The tunic is pulled away with shaking hands, the tie of his trousers next. He mutters a curse below his breath when his cock springs free, so erect and angry it looks painful. The tip drools just as much as that fluttering heaven between her legs, pearly beads of preejaculate leaking down to stain the fabric and further condemn him to this impromptu fate.

He jerks when she wraps her hand around him there, whines when she leans forward to kiss its head.

“I can’t…” His voice sounds weak to his own ears, pathetic and miserable as he makes a mock attempt at prying her away with a gentle press to her shoulder. “My princess… we should not.”

He’s almost certain she’s a devil herself sent to exact some punishment upon him when her lips curl up into a grin and she lies back with her knees drawn to her chest. She speaks such words to him then that he would not dare to ever repeat, songs only the unknown could sing. An angel, perhaps, when she slips a finger into herself to demonstrate to him just what should be done… there, with panting breaths and whispers of heaven.

And finally, when his cock throbs and kicks at the sight, all resolve is entirely lost. He positions himself over her where she guides the tip of his manhood to her slit, praises his size when his hips give an involuntary twitch and he slightly dips into her, sampling her warmth and the resistance from something so thick pressing into her.

His world crumbles at the sensation, cobblestone replaced by the raging heat of brimstone and an obscene lust that clouds his mind and leads him to spear her open to his hilt.

He finds holiness in their union, bites back a roar when her walls tremble around him. She only laughs when his teeth find her shoulder, only sings more hymns into his ear as he fucks into her cunt at a reckless, brutal pace. The words don’t register, far-away and distant amidst the roaring tide of sensation. She’s so tight, so wet and yearning, quivering beneath him and clawing down his back.

“We shouldn’t, hm?,” she whispers in his ear, teeth grazing the lobe. His strokes become even sloppier, each thrust stuttered and heady when the sound of her voice pulls through the haze of bliss. “My sweet boy is so good at this, though…”

His voice is nearly a wail when he loses himself fully then. He holds the back of her thighs, fucks himself through an orgasm that leaves his head spinning and his body shaking as though he’s come down with some wretched fever. And perhaps he is ill, because he can’t bring himself to think of anything more than the divine rapture of stuffing his seed into the warmth of her pussy, can’t bring himself to pull his cock out of her even when he begins to soften.

His face is buried against her neck, professing his endless love as he breathes her in and ruts into her over and over until his cock is once again stiffened and drooling inside of the very cunt he would die to keep.

Surely, when her troupe begins to pack to drift further out into the kingdom for their performances to be seen… he could accuse them of slander, have the old man playing the part of the lecherous king executed, the others thrown into rat-infested cells, and the little princess tethered to his bed to warm his heart and his cock.

He will kiss away her tears, tell her that all could be forgiven if she would only let him make an honest woman of her.

[peachypinkygloss]

sleepover — ksj, pjm

You spend a night with your two best friends at their dorm room. You should have known that they wanted to do more than just watching movies.

☆ pairing: best friend!seokjin x fem!reader x best friend!jimin

☆ genre: roommates au, best friends with benefits, smut

☆ word count: 7.3k

☆ warnings: evil jin & jimin cus i can't write them if they aren't meanies (they're still cuties 💘), reader's kinda a bimbo and a crybaby oops, roommates jinmin, a bit of possessiveness 🤫, pussy drunk jimin <3 (he could drown himself in it istg), dicks analysis 🤓 (i love doing that, sorry not sorry), threesome, unprotected sex, degradation, edging, oral (f & m), fingering, lil bit of anal play 🙊, cum eating, and btw kissing is overrated.

a.n.: fucking finally ‼️ this is me signing up for hell. jinmin turned me into a helpless romantic whore. ... idk how my characters are supposed to interact outside of sex ☠️ sorry

"Hi."

Seokjin greets you as a huge grin forms on his face. He leans on the door he just opened, eyeing you up and down before hiding his other hand in the pocket of his shorts. You recognize them to be his basketball ones, his favourite and lucky pair of shorts.

"Hello," you say in return, passing by him to enter his dorm room he shares with Jimin.

His eyes follow you, lingering on your body shamelessly. You're already dressed for the sleepover, having chosen to wear your Snoopy themed night shorts with a random t-shirt you own since high school.

You turn around, catching Seokjin staring at you at the same time. Fortunately, you're not that bright so you don't question him. You probably didn't even notice his eyes were on you anyway.

"Where's Jiminie?" You ask him, voice pouty and disappointed to not see your other best friend in the room with you.

After he closes the door behind him, he walks up to you. He almost wants to laugh at the height difference you share. He can see the top of your head, well, he would if you hadn't your head tilted upward to look at him.

He's much taller and larger than you. It does something to him. Is he old fashioned for preferring his women shorter than him? Maybe, but screw it. It attracts him, he can't deny it, especially when the woman in question is you.

"He'll be back soon," he answers, watching how your hold on the strap of your backpack twitches when he steps closer to you. "He went to take a quick shower. Didn't want to stink after his practice," Seokjin explains and you nod, quickly backing away and throwing your bag on Jimin's bed.

He doesn't mean to make you anxious. It's not his fault if his proximity cuts your breath short, but he finds it cute. Really fucking cute.

Jimin's bed is placed on the left side of the room while Seokjin's bed is on the right. Their dorm is minimalist in terms of decoration because in terms of mess... it's the opposite. Typical of a young man's room — of a two young men's room.

It's not super messy where you can't even see the floor beneath your feet, but a box of empty beer bottles is chilling beside their mini-fridge and dirty clothes are scattered everywhere as well as school furniture.

As unpleasant as it seems, you feel good in their room.

And anyway, they know how to clean, they just don't really do it. What's new?

"Sorry for the wait!" Jimin exclaims as he enters the dorm, coming in with his used towel around his shoulders. He shakes his head, trying to get his wet brown hair away from his face. "The shower I normally use was broken, so I had to use another one and the stupid curtain was sticking to my ass," he loudly complains and removes his sandals by throwing them in a corner by the entry, walking up to you.

"That's why I don't pull the curtain," Seokjin says, always having the best but also weirdest advice. "Doesn't bother me anymore."

Jimin winces, giving him a dirty look. "You're fucked up for that," he accuses Seokjin, laying his towel on the back of his chair so it can dry properly. "There's water everywhere if you don't pull it."

"And you make weird eye contact with people," you add on, Jimin agreeing with you with a 'yeah' and a nod of his head.

Seokjin rolls his eyes as if you and Jimin are the weird ones when everybody knows damn well it's fucked up to not pull the shower curtain.

"Nah, just close your eyes," he persists, believing he's in the right and you both are in the wrong. "And anyway, it's better than having the curtain sticking to your butt every time someone enters the shower room. Plus, there's a drain for the water, so fuck you."

You gasp offendedly when he insults you, giving him a tap on the chest to scold him for his bad words. He only smirks at the hit, wanting to tell you it tickles as a way to tease you, but he knows you hate it when he laughs at your lack of strength.

"Don't say that!" You reprimand, staring at him severely and he thinks you just look so cute. It's unfortunate how he'll never take your anger seriously.

He grabs your wrist, stopping from giving him another hit as he can't help but laugh at your facial expression. "I wasn't saying it to you, babe," he rectifies, pulling you closer to him by the hold he has on your arm. Your face is then a couple inches away from his, the corner of his mouth twitching up, as always. "Just to him 'cause he deserves it, but not you."

You look at him in the eyes, breath quickening as his plump lips seem way too close to yours. You notice his gaze shifting between your lips and eyes, understanding the idea he has in mind. You don't let him think about it too much.

"You're stupid," you mumble as you detach yourself from him, putting a safe distance between you two.

You glimpse in Jimin's way, hoping he didn't see how Seokjin was literally asking for a kiss, but he's busy tidying up his hygiene products he brought to his shower.

Seokjin's eyes haven't left you, still looking at you with a smug smile on his face, but he stops when his friend turns around.

"Ok, so... what movie do we watch?"

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

"There's no more soda," Seokjin announces, looking inside their almost empty mini-fridge. It would be time to go to the grocery store.

"But I need one!" You whine from where you are laid down on Seokjin's bed, previously sandwiched between the two men with Jimin's laptop on your lap to watch a movie. "I'm thirsty and water won't hit the same..."

Seokjin sighs, knowing he'll give in to your whims. How can he resist your adorable face and your pouty voice? You're their spoiled best friend, after all.

"I have to go to the convenience store..." He explains, hoping it'll make you change your mind and go with water instead of a soda.

You keep the same expression, big rounded eyes and corners of your lips tug downward. "Yeah?" You say back, not bothered to make him walk miles just for a little can of soft drink. "Please, you'd be a sweetheart, Jinnie," you flatter him, using compliments to make him give in and it works, as always.

"Okay..." He sighs again, upset for being so weak with you. You deserve it, but he's not really willing to leave you alone with Jimin, especially with the smug smile he has on his face right now.

"Bring some candies, too," you ask while he's searching through his wallet to check if he has enough coins.

"And chips," Jimin adds in, smirking like a devious child. "Oh, and ramen, since we're at it."

Seokjin narrows his eyes at him, well aware that his friend has something in mind, but he can't tell what exactly. "Do you have the money for it?"

"You do," he replies quickly, snuggling himself closer to you.

"I'm not paying for your shit, Jimin," Seokjin says back, putting his coins in the pocket of his basketball shorts.

"Ah, come on, hyung!" Jimin groans, but his friend doesn't want to hear him.

He picks up a pair of dirty jeans off the floor, knowing Jimin hides his coins in there. He pulls out a couple, not really caring if he takes more than he needs to.

He puts on his sneakers and brings his phone and keys with him, opening the door. "Don't wait for me!" He yells before exiting his dorm room he shares with Jimin, door closing behind him.

As you're about to press on the spacebar to resume the movie, Jimin closes his laptop, extending his body over yours to drop off the electronic device on the floor.

"What are you doing?" You question him, confused.

"Waiting for Jin."

"But he said-"

He cuts you off, putting his index finger over his lips. "Shut up, will you, princess?" He smiles when you don't dare to open your mouth again, looking at him with widened eyes and pouty lips.

He hovers over you, one hand supporting his weight on each side of your body. He rapidly settles himself between your legs, lowering himself slowly, looking deeply into your eyes. Your heart accelerates and your stomach twists, starting to get nervous about what Jimin is about to do.

He carefully lifts your pyjama top over your belly, making you involuntarily flinch when his lips brush against your skin. He glances at you when you move, but he doesn't say anything. He just looks at you with his piercing gaze as a warning or maybe as a way to reassure you, telling you that you don't have to be anxious.

You swallow in a whine when his pillowy lips lay on your stomach, leaving you bothered and hot by the simplest action, yet the most meaningful at the same time. He kisses your skin, his lips trailing down until they reach the band of your night shorts.

You shiver, swallowing again, the area between your legs heating up as he gives your stomach more kisses. They are wet and warm as well as intimate and sexual.

He presses his plump lips down on you, the tip of his nose touching your skin as he gets terribly close to your crotch. You're flustered by the way he explores this area of your body you never knew was this sensitive until now.

His hands grip the fat of your hips, gripping hard, but it doesn't pain you. It cuts your breath short and makes you feel possessed, like he owns you. Owns your body, owns your emotions because there's nobody else at the moment other than him who makes you feel this way.

His hands on your hips shift down to your clothes that separate you from his insatiable mouth. It's as if it's searching for you, searching for your core that is turning wetter as the time passes incredibly slow.

His lips travel between your thighs and you open them for him, not thinking once about anything else than his mouth on your private parts. His fingers tease you by slipping under the band of your shorts before slipping back up, doing it over again. He pulls them slightly down, but stops since he likes torturing you.

"Are you going to... to, um…" You lose your words, gasping loudly when his mouth finds your bud of nerves, already aching from the lack of contact.

He doesn't stay long, going up just above your pelvis, pulling down on your shorts by hooking two fingers under them at the front. "Yeah," he whispers, confirming your doubts.

You feel his hot breath on your skin, locking eyes with him as he continues to pull, also bringing down your panties. "Like... like the last time?" You ask in a little voice, which makes Jimin smirk.

"Like the last time," he repeats before concentrating back on his task.

He attacks your stomach in kisses, distracting you from the fact that he's now using his two hands to get your shorts and underwear off of you. It works, you don't fight back and only bury your fingers in his thick soft hair.

Rapidly, your clothes find a spot on the floor, being long forgotten the moment Jimin puts his mouth on your pussy. He licks a long strip from your leaking hole up to your clitoris, wrapping his lips around it. He passes his arms around your hips and your legs hang on his shoulders, clad feet touching his lower back.

He nibbles on your clit, suckling on it, making it puffy and swollen. He sucks avidly on your bud and million tingles pass through your body. You buck your hips upward by instinct, pushing down on his head and gripping his hair between your fists.

You moan sweetly, Jimin's cock hardening in his shorts at the beautiful sounds you let out each time he sucks and licks, giving you the impression that he's literally making out with your pussy.

You imprison his head between your plush thighs and he likes the feeling of it, he likes it very much. He's happy to know he makes you feel good, so good that you could suffocate him between your thighs. You do this because you're agitated, squirming around under him and moaning, sounding almost like cute little meows.

His head of silky brown hair peeks out from between your legs and your stomach flutters at the sight, your mind fuzzy from thousand little clouds.

He suckles on your clit and you lack the words to describe the feeling, but it's wet, so wet. His tongue is everywhere, teasing and licking like it’s second nature to him. At this very moment, you believe Jimin was born to eat pussy and nothing else.

He ruts his hips against the mattress and lets out a deep moan, cock aching from being restricted in its confines. The wet sounds your cunt produces turn him on so bad, dick painfully hard at the melody of your moans and at the way you shove him against your pussy as if his head wasn't already buried between your legs.

It's a lot for you, your fingers can't compete against his mouth — they would lose instantly. If Seokjin knew what you two were doing right now, you can't imagine what his reaction would be. You wonder if he knows about last time, there's no way he doesn't, Jimin hides nothing from him.

If he knows, then why did he leave you alone with his friend who is incapable of keeping his tongue in his mouth, away from your cunt? That's why he was so hesitant. You feel bad, you shouldn't be doing this behind his back... No, you shouldn't be doing this at all. Or should you?

Is Seokjin's tongue as skillful as Jimin's? As wet and warm? Surely, with his pair of heart-shaped lips you can only imagine what they would do to your poor little clit.

You moan at the thought, twisting Jimin's hair in your small fists, coming closer to your orgasm. It doesn't take you a lot, a few licks and he has you over the edge. With skills like his, you're sure to be in seventh heaven really quickly.

So quickly and intensely that you don't even hear the door opening and closing, nor does your best friend.

"Jimin, what the fuck!?"

You knit your eyebrows at the sudden exclamation, but don't give it much importance as you feel your orgasm coming. Your pleasure is cut short and you get frustrated really fast.

"No, no, no," you panic, feeling Jimin's mouth leaving your pussy. You pull on his hair to have him back against you, but he doesn't budge.

"What?" Jimin responds nonchalantly, looking at Seokjin who has just entered the dorm with sodas and snacks bought at the convenience store down the street. "Don't you want the poor girl to cum?" He smirks like the situation is totally normal.

And maybe it is normal. It's not the first time he's gotten his way with you, it surely won't be the last. You're stupid enough to not see the way your friends look at you, how they undress you with their eyes and how they lick their lips salaciously whenever you find yourself in a compromising position.

They are perverts, but with you they are more than that and you're about to find it out.

You turn your head toward Seokjin who's standing beside the bed, a crease between his dark eyebrows. His gaze is sharp, mad at you for being such a whore, but can he really blame you when Jimin's lips are so tempting, literally breathtaking.

"Oh, please, Jinnie!" You beg, clit pulsating. Having Jimin's mouth just over your cunt is agonizing, so hurtful when he could soothe the ache between your legs in less than a second.

"What are you begging for, hm?" He says, his voice husky, making your stomach twist. You whine, eyes watering at how badly you need this release. "Can you tell me instead of crying like a little slut?"

Jimin looks at you from his spot between your thighs, smiling devilishly with no intention of helping you unless you follow Seokjin's order. You find it unfair and kind of dumb because if he had come in just a minute later, you would've orgasmed by the time. And it would have been magical.

Sloppy kisses are given to your inner thighs and you swear Jimin is doing it on purpose. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hands, taking a deep breath before locking eyes with Seokjin. "Please, can I cum?"

"I don't know," he answers curtly and you frown even more. He approaches you and lean over you, taking a hold of your jaw, angling it in his direction. "How badly do you want it?" He whispers, his pink lips so close to yours, you can't help but stare at them.

"I- I," you stutter out, totally braindead and on the verge of tears. It shouldn't be that hard to say a complete sentence, but right now, it is. You surely look pathetic, crying for a stupid orgasm. "Please, want it badly."

"Good girl," he purrs when you finally say the words he wanted to hear. "Yes, you can, sweetheart," he gives his approval and your eyes light up.

Jimin doesn't wait to get back into it, lips already on your clit when Seokjin lets go of your face. You both look down at where Jimin's mouth operates, slurping up your arousal and flickering your little bud of nerves with his pink muscle.

You whine and grip his hair, tangling your fingers in it. You jut your hips upward in his face, his licks and sucks much more powerful than previously.

You're brought back to the edge of your orgasm in little time, mouth agape as you close your legs around Jimin's head. Seokjin takes the opportunity to insert two of his fingers in your mouth, going deep and pressing his digits down on your tongue.

You close your lips around him and you ask yourself if he's verifying how much you can handle at once. If you can take his long fingers, you're surely capable of taking something else way bigger.

You drool all over yourself and wince at the wet feeling, not really appreciating it. You moan around his fingers as you rock your hips in Jimin's face, the knot in your stomach ripping apart. The pleasure is intoxicating and ten times more intense. Who would've thought Jimin's mouth can turn such a little orgasm into a literal tsunami.

You cum hard while still having Seokjin's fingers knuckles deep in your mouth. You hear Jimin groaning at the pain you inflict on him by pulling on his hair, but he loves the pain and loves even more your cunt rubbing in his face.

Jimin removes your thighs off of his shoulders and pushes them over your stomach. He savours your arousal dripping down from your hole, drinking it like a thirsty man as if it was his only source of water. He makes out with your pussy and this time it's not just an impression. He's opening and closing his mouth on you, sucking on your lips like he would do if he was kissing you.

Seokjin retracts his digits from your mouth and slaps the side of your face with his wet fingers, cupping your jaw after. "Happy? You got what you wanted, greedy little girl," he rasps out, gritting his teeth.

He's so hot when he grits his teeth. He has this look in his eyes, one that makes goosebumps run down your spine. He seems mad, upset you've let Jimin get into your pants so easily without a second thought. Or mad because you didn't wait for him. Well, according to Jimin it's what you were doing, but you shouldn't have started without him. If only you knew you were about to start that.

"Yes," you nod, muttering the word. Seokjin holds your face tightly, fingers pressing on your cheeks, jutting your lips out.

Jimin gets up on his knees and your heart does a flip in your chest at the view of him with his hair tousled, knowing you're the cause of this beautiful mess. His lips and chin are drenched in your juices. He licks them clean and wipes his chin with his hand, flashing you a devious smile after.

"She's just a dumb little girl, now," he teases, bulge very apparent in his shorts. "Did you have a good time, hm? Grinding on my tongue like a deprived virgin?"

Seokjin frees your face to cup your cunt instead, slapping it a couple of times, making you squirm out of overstimulation. "She sure did," he agrees, licking your arousal off his fingers before speaking up again. "Look at her. No thoughts behind those pretty eyes."

You want to say something back, but you can only produce a pathetic whimper.

Jimin is about to lower his shorts over his crotch when Seokjin stops him. "What are you doing?" He asks with a scowl on his face.

"Well, it's my turn," he answers casually, but Seokjin doesn't really agree with him. "I got her all wet, I deserve that pussy."

"Yeah, and you did it behind my back. It's only fair I get to it first-"

"No..." You grumble, interrupting your friend. They both look at you, intrigued with what you have to say. "Stop fighting. I get to decide who enters me." You roll over, getting on your stomach and then on all fours to escape Jimin. You sit up, flicking your eyes between the two men. "And nobody will."

"What!? Why!" Jimin exclaims while Seokjin scoffs. It's stupidly easy to piss them off.

You place yourself over the edge of the bed, your back facing Seokjin and your clad feet hanging off the mattress. You grab Jimin's hand to bring him over to you. You sit on your calves, opening your legs wider and leaning on your hands while Jimin is placed on his knees, back straight.

You look over your shoulder and point at Seokjin where he should be. "Kneel here," you instruct, pointing to the spot just behind you.

You smile when he gets on his knees and he grins back at you, knowing your greedy little pussy wants more. Two pairs of plump lips on your sex on the same day? Blissful.

But you should know Seokjin isn't really the type to follow orders, far away from obeying to your selfish little rules. He's the one who commands, not the opposite. Never the opposite.

"Jimin," you tug on his shorts, making him look down at you.

He smiles sweetly, cradling your face in his warm hands. "Yeah, princess?" He purses his lips as if to send you a kiss. "Wanna suck on my dick? Is that what you want?" He coos, saying such lewd words in a soft voice.

"Please."

He groans appreciatively at your pleading, his cock twitching happily in his briefs. "Get rid of that first, baby," he demands, pulling your pyjama top off of you, revealing your breasts to him. "Perfect..." He purrs, fumbling your tits in his palms before reaching for the band of his shorts.

At the same time Jimin's pulling his cock out, you feel your asscheeks being pushed apart and a big glob of spit falling down between them, dripping down over your puckered hole. You gasp when a thumb comes to stroke the muscle, lubricating it.

You can't really focus on what's happening behind when Jimin's angry erection stands proud just before your eyes. You moan at the sight, having never thought that seeing your best friend's dick would have been so arousing.

He's perfectly girthy, his head a cute shade of pink and glistening in pre-cum. He's not super veiny, but you can sense the weight of it. Looking at it makes you hungry, salivating like a dog in front of a bowl of food.

Jimin is not shaved and you love it. He has two well defined shallow grooves on his abdomen going from his hip bone to his pubis, accentuating how slim and muscled his body is. A few veins pulse out on his abdomen, going down to his pubis, and you want to pass your tongue over each one of them.

You open your mouth, Jimin guiding his cock toward your mouth, but it's at that moment that Seokjin plunges two fingers in your cunt. You moan out, knitting your eyebrows as he reaches a sensitive spot right away. He scissors your insides, and even if you said nobody would fuck you, you think he's stretching you out exactly for that.

"Shhh," Jimin tries to soothe you, patting your head in an endearing manner. "Keep your mouth open, baby." You do so and he doesn't hesitate to penetrate it, moaning in relief as he puts a hand at the back of your head to keep it steady.

He keeps a hand around his base to guide it in your mouth and you relax your jaw, letting him stuff you full of his cock. You want to reach the end so bad, pleasure Jimin like he did with you, but he feeds you his dick slowly, too slowly.

You've never been that eager, that impatient to suck a cock. You want to make him cum, to satisfy him. You want him to use you, use you like you're worth nothing more than a sexual object. He can ruin you, fuck your throat with his fat cock, you only care about his — their — pleasure.

He holds your head, letting go of his cock when he considers he's far enough in. "Ah, what a good fucking whore," he praises breathily, watching the way your lips wrap tightly around his stiff erection, drool dripping down on your chin from being so full.

You bat your eyelashes at Jimin, feeling your eyes stinging. He growls when your eyes connect, his fluffy bangs covering his beautiful almond shaped eyes.

You can't see Seokjin's movements, but you can feel everything. His breaths, the calluses on his hand palming your butt, his long fingers pounding into you, his thumb teasing your rim, you feel it all.

He lays his tongue flat over your cunt where his fingers operate, licking a long trail until he reaches your other hole. You clench around him, a little bit taken back by his obsession with your ass, but still really turned on.

It's nowhere near uncomfortable, though it's not an area you usually explore when you're alone. You keep your jaw slack for Jimin as he starts to thrust in back and forth at a slow pace. He doesn't move much, most of his length stays in your mouth. It's enough friction for him to enjoy, hearing his soft moans above you.

You arch your back to Seokjin's pleasure and he groans pleasantly, having his head buried between your cheeks. He curls his fingers in you and pat gently the spongy spot in you, making you moan obscenely around Jimin's thick cock.

It sends delicious vibrations through Jimin's body and he opens his mouth in pleasure, pushing his cock in deeper. He frowns adorably while his mouth is ajar, watching his meaty length disappear and reappear between your swollen lips.

Seokjin's traces your empty hole with the tip of his tongue, teasing you and making you contract around his fingers so hard he has difficulty to move in. He slaps your ass and your whine is muffled because of Jimin's cock in your mouth. You unclench and he can finally move in freely.

He pulls on one cheek while he kisses and licks around your rim, sometimes going in just a little. You push your behind onto Seokjin, eliciting another groan from him, angry or maybe satisfied, you have no idea.

You're trapped between your two male best friends and you don't know what to think, mind so dizzy, potentially ready to explode. One feeds you his cock, the other eats your ass while fingering your pussy. How can your brain function correctly in this situation? Well, it cannot.

"So fucking impatient," Seokjin observes, now entering a bit of his thumb into your hole. The stretch is weird, but it tingles at the same.

He removes his two digits from your drenched pussy, making you whimper around Jimin, spreading your wetness over your puckered hole after he extracted his thumb. You feel the dampness between your cheeks, purring when Seokjin brings up more arousal.

He pulls your two globs of flesh apart, coming to lick your ass again. You feel his nose pressing down on you and the teasing tip of pink muscle tickling your tight hole. He almost cleans you off of your juices, leaving only his saliva and the insatiable hunger he has for your ass.

Your eyes roll back and Jimin sees it, gripping your hair at the top of your head in a tight fist. You let out a painful long whine, loving the burning sting and the stretch of your ass Seokjin offers you.

Jimin guides the bounces of your head on his cock, doing long and rhythmic thrusts. He groans deeply, the sound coming from his throat, and you mewl in return.

His face is all puffy, cheeks coloured in red, breath shallow and lips dried. He licks them, swallowing in a breathy moan after. He looks delectable, his dark gaze planted on you, never once looking away unless it's to watch his thick cock entering your mouth at an exhilarating pace.

You feel digits stroking your rim, teasing a bit before Seokjin spits on it. "I should fuck that tight ass," he states as he spreads his saliva, dipping in his thumb slightly. "For fucking with Jimin behind my back." He passes a finger over your slicks, noticing how wet you are.

You want to protest, hearing Seokjin standing up on his feet after his scary, but tempting threat. You're about to pull out when Jimin pushes down on your head, keeping it in place. "Ah, shit..." He hisses, feeling you swallowing around him.

It's not long until you sense a long cock sliding over your drenched cunt and you look worryingly at Jimin, but he only smiles at you, still holding your head down.

Seokjin pushes his bulbous head down your tight ass hole and you clench around nothing, heart beating faster. You wonder if he'd really dare to do it, but you know he's not the kind of guy to do it the... messy way. He's teasing, as always.

"Stop whining, baby," Jimin coos, stroking your cheek delicately. He moves in slightly and you flatten your tongue under his meaty cock. "Relax, m'kay? There's nothing to worry about, it's just us," he reassures you and you close your eyes, letting him use your mouth as he pleases.

You finally feel his cock penetrating you, sliding in your pussy in one motion. Your wetness allows him to enter you with ease, making you moan around Jimin's hard dick. One hand strokes your back, big palm caressing your sweaty skin, passing over the bumps of your spinal column.

"She's fucking tight, sucking me in like crazy," Seokjin rasps out, smacking one of your asscheeks, making your flesh jiggle from the force of the hit. "Acts like she doesn't wanna get fucked, but that's all she's been dreaming about..."

You whine, wanting to say something, but you can't while having a full mouth. "Such a dirty girl, aren't you, princess?" Jimin purrs, perfect pink lips curving upward into an evil smile.

He refrains a lewd moan from escaping his mouth by biting down on his bottom lip, fist pulling harder on your hair. You do your best to breathe through your nose, focusing on your gag reflex and hollowing your cheeks to maximize his pleasure.

"Ah, fuck-!" Jimin frowns and grits his teeth, too close to his high to continue fucking your mouth. He yanks your head back, pulling out of you in an instant.

His cock twitches after he analyses your face, looking absolutely destroyed. You breathe with difficulty, cheeks stained by your tears and chin by your drool. You blink several times, looking back into his eyes before moaning out loudly, leaning yourself on Jimin.

Seokjin doesn't miss your sweet spot and it's too intense for you, holding on to Jimin for some emotional support. You grip the sides of his t-shirt, sticking the side of your face to his chest, crying against him all while you're getting fucked by one of your best friends.

Jimin can't help but play with your dangling breasts, fumbling the plushy flesh in his rough palms and pulling on your nipples. It makes you arch your back, leaning on Jimin's touch and pushing your hips against Seokjin's.

The man behind you grips your hips tightly, sinking his fingers into your soft flesh, leaving your poor skin sore and the marks of his fingertips behind. He snaps his hips against yours roughly and he seems to never get enough, driving his cock into your wet pussy like a mad man.

Jimin's erection stands just before your eyes, glistening in your spit and hard as rock. He sees you looking at it so he grabs it, guiding it to your lips. "Wanna suck it, baby?" He asks in his sweet voice and you glimpse up at him, drooling on his t-shirt, looking totally braindead. "Don't be shy, open your mouth..."

You part your lips to mouth at the reddened tip, suckling on it gently. Jimin hums, stroking your hair delicately, the opposite of Seokjin's actions who pounds into you with force, using you to get himself off.

Suddenly, he steadies his hips against your ass, stopping his vigorous hip thrusts. He then pulls out and your legs fail you, no longer strong enough to stand on their own without him holding you up. You cry, letting go of Jimin's cock and glancing over your shoulder to see Seokjin getting rid of his long-sleeved t-shirt.

"Do you want to switch?" Jimin questions his hyung and this one nods, catching his breath.

"Yeah," he breathes out a positive answer.

Jimin smirks down at you. "Come here, baby," he softly instructs, grabbing your bicep and bringing you to the head of the bed. He takes off his sweats before stretching out his legs and leaning his head on the pillows. "Turn around, show me this little ass."

You straddle his lap how he wants it and you see Seokjin following you, gently tugging at his aching cock covered in your juices. He's long and curvy, but he looks less stiff than Jimin. You suppose he's the type to get more length when erect, unlike his friend.

"Come on, princess, put it in," Jimin smiles and you look at him, shuddering in desire at his words. "Sit on it," he insists.

"Yes, Minnie," you sigh out of exhaustion.

You take his wet cock in your hand and angle it toward your leaking hole, moaning softly when you sink down on him. The stretch of your cunt is good, feeling completely full. He twitches happily in you, Jimin extending his arms to grip your hips possessively.

You moan in unison, Jimin letting out a long grunt and you a loud whine. He doesn't reach as deep as Seokjin, but he fills you up really well.

"Oh, fuck," Jimin curses, biting down on his bottom lip out of pleasure. "Go ahead, ride me, baby," he softly demands and you oblige happily.

You start doing a grind motion, leaning on Jimin's thighs to keep your balance. He runs his palms all over your body, appreciating your curves and the way you move your hips on him to pleasure yourself.

Seokjin grips your chin, making you face his angry erection, his hand wrapped around it. "Show me how good of a slut you are, sweetheart," he sings, tucking a wild strand of hair behind your ear.

His long fingers stroke his cock, but they stop at the base when you tilt your head down, catching his swollen tip in your mouth. He hums appreciatively and passes his fingers through your hair, now wet by your sweat. He collects your hair in an improvised ponytail, keeping them away from your face.

You bob your head over his long cock, stroking the base with one of your palms since you can't fit all of him in your mouth, your other palm still sitting on Jimin's thigh. You hear the beautiful, raspy moans of Seokjin, proud of yourself for making him feel good.

He is smoothly shaved, skin soft and sturdy under your tongue and fingertips. You love the sleek feeling of Seokjin's pubis, although you equally adore the stinging feeling of Jimin's pubic hair against your skin.

You grind on Jimin, doing little motions that are more pleasurable to you, but he still approves, muttering a 'fuck yeah' while directing your hips.

You suck Seokjin as if you were in a porno, bobbing your head over his length and moaning around him exaggeratedly. You don't know where this sudden vigour comes from, but you won't complain. Surely not when he looks impressed, in total admiration.

"Fucking slut," Jimin slurs out, pupil dilated and filled in lust at the sight of a white ring around the base of his cock left by your pussy.

You whine around Seokjin, disagreeing with him, or maybe agreeing. It doesn't matter anyway with the way you clench around him each time he throws bad words at you.

You like how they treat you, as if all those insults were deserved and justified. But they know damn well none of the things they say are true, that's why it's so exciting.

You move in slow circles, Jimin's hands grabbing and slapping your ass. Your juices are everywhere, dripping down on his balls and sticking to his pelvis. It feels a little bit nasty, but you don't think anyone in this room really cares.

It smells so much like sex and you wonder how long it'll take for the odour to go away. Knowing your friends, they could probably never open the windows just to keep the smell of you in. You would dissuade them from it, because come on, but the thought makes you slightly smile.

"Fuck, this mouth is doing wonders," Seokjin compliments and you're ravished to hear that. "Don't know how long I'll last, sweetheart," he announces, looking down at your lips gliding smoothly over his long, curvy cock.

"Same," Jimin adds in, voice raspy and breath erratic.

You're encouraged by that, pleased to know you're making them feel really good. You use your full potential and lift up your hips, dropping them back down on Jimin's dick. You love the stretch, love how his cock pushes your walls to make room for himself, being so big your pussy just can't keep his size.

You take Seokjin's in your mouth, slurping and swallowing around him. He groans, telling you how much he likes you and your wet tongue.

"Okay- Fuck," Seokjin begins, but curses when you cup his balls, innocently glancing up at him. He puts a hand on the top of your head and pushes you away from him, his cock slipping out of your mouth. "I'm taking her pussy, now," he says, still looking at you even though he's addressing Jimin.

"No! Why?" Jimin complains, groaning loudly in disagreement.

"Because I want to," he says back, too stubborn to even consider another option.

"Well, you're gonna let me finish first."

As you lift up your hips, Jimin's cock pulling out of you, he's quick to turn you around and lay you down on the bed where he was positioned previously. Seokjin lets him, rolling his eyes at the childishness of his friend — even though he's not acting very mature either.

Jimin straddles your waist, stroking his cock just over your breasts, licking his lips. You watch his hand running up and down his length rapidly, all coated in your wetness and saliva of earlier.

"Shit, shit- I'm cumming," he hastily warns, fingers wrapped tightly around his dick. He was already close when he was in you, so it doesn't take long until he's brought back close to his high.

His eyes are blown out, looking at your tits like there's nothing sexier than them. His hips stutter and you place your palms on his naked thighs, feeling how hot his skin is.

"Ah! Fuck," he chokes on his words, angling his cock toward your boobs. You look at him emptying himself on your chest, long ropes of white cum landing on your breasts. He keeps stroking obsessively until he spills out everything, little white beads falling from his wet and reddened tip.

He whines a little when it starts to hurt because of overstimulation. He eventually finishes, passing a hand through his hair, removing his wet bangs from covering his eyes. His chest heaves rapidly as he tries to regain a normal breathing.

"Go away, loser."

Jimin sends a murderous glare at Seokjin before clearing the way, sitting down, back against the wall.

Seokjin penetrates you again, locking your shaky legs behind his back. You gasp when he pounds in immediately, not once missing a beat. You sneak a hand between your legs, reaching your pulsating and puffy clit left alone for too long now.

With your other hand, you swipe a finger in Jimin's cum on your boobs, picking it up and bringing it to your mouth. Seokjin watches you eating his friend's cum and he squints his eyes at you, perhaps a little jealous.

"Oh! Jinnie," you mewl, the knot in your stomach tightening from his tip brushing against the sweet spot inside of you and your finger drawing quick circles on your clit.

You lick more cum off your fingers, arching your back and closing your walls around Seokjin's long cock. You moan loudly when you reach your high, milky his dick and clenching repeatedly around him, bringing him close to his high as well.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight, sweetheart." His hips snap against yours and like earlier, they steady on you, cock twitching inside your pussy.

He doesn't pull out this time and paints your insides white in his cum, spurting everything he has deep into you. You sigh of contentment, loving the hot sensation of his cum in your pussy.

"I'm so full, Jinnie," you purrs and he slips out slowly, looking at his seeds dripping out of you as you hole keeps quivering and clenching from your previous orgasm.

He wets his lips, wishing he could see this everyday of the week; you full of his creamy cum. But of course, he's not the only one to want this. He'd have to share.

"Next time, I'm the one cumming inside," Jimin says from where he is, catching a glimpse of the white substance falling out of your hole. "You selfish jerk," he mutters to his friend.

Later on, after Seokjin passed a cloth between your legs and Jimin cleaned the mess he made on your breasts, you fell asleep in Seokjin's bed. The boys finished the movie without you since you were too tired, eyelids closing on their own.

They stayed up late at night, playing video games and eating ramen, sometimes giving each other stupid challenges like doing a certain amount of push-ups in a determined time.

They didn't really disturb your sleep since you were knocked out. Though you sometimes woke up from their voices, you went back to sleep easily. You don't know who slept beside you that night, but you woke up with Jimin's arm around your waist and Seokjin coming back with breakfast.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

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Do not ask for a part 2.

[duhnova]

Dancing Queen | Choi Seungcheol

Pairing: disco club owner!choi seungcheol x performer!reader (fem)

Genre: smut, fluff, tiny bit of angst if you squint but its almost nonexistent

Synopsis: the stage is where you felt the most comfortable, letting go and singing for everyone that would sit and listen. but it was hard making a living in America, every corner you turned there was trouble waiting for you because you were too comfortable with your sexuality for the public’s liking. so when you stepped off the ship that took you to your new life in Paris, you were surprised to collide with a disco club owner who was in a similar boat as you.

Warning(s): smut under the cut (mdni!!!), mentions of food and alcohol, joke about marriage, ambiguous sexuality, talks on sexuality and swinging any which way, cat calling, talks of sexism and a little power imbalance, mentions of religion and leaving the church, mentions of immigration, implications of a future threesome, cheol has a sir & daddy kink (big surprise), spanking, bruises (cheol has a bit of a heavy hand and thrust), office sex, a bit of praising (both ways), lowkey breeding kink (are we surprised?), i feel like the sex was a bit tame in this but please let me know if i forgot anything else! - don't mind grammatical errors and typos, i tried!

A/N: biggest shout out to @onlyseokmins & @the-boy-meets-evil for proof reading for me and offering feedback/opinions, and for also putting up with my late night bullshit these last few nights of constantly putting off finishing this - jess really saw my turmoil with this one and BLESS her heart for not telling me to go fuck myself after id message her late saying i either finished a section or i didn't end up writing like i wanted too (and then id send her an idea right after for her to read in the morning). anyways i spent the last few months struggling with this fic and i hope ya'll like it and if you don't... keep it to yourself <3

70s;teen collab masterlist | my svt masterlist

Paris was beautiful, the long voyage was more and more worth it the longer you spent in the city that bustled and thrived. America was nothing compared to France, the countrysides and the cities alike felt like they were straight out of a book. 

Life was starting to finally look up for you, even if you weren't fully able to escape the turmoils you faced in America, you were given more opportunities in the so-called city of love. Cars driven by men still honked at you and women with their children glared and covered their kin's eyes as you walked down the street, your cleavage and shoulders on display and your skirt far above the knees. 

Despite the business of the city during the day, there were plenty of shops downtown that didn’t open up until nightfall. One in particular, Club Kidult, was said to be the best nightclub in all of the country. It’s owned by a man from Korea who is a wildcard, with a knack for “adopting” foreigners - or so you’ve been told. 

“Can’t you read? We’re closed right now.” A man glares at you after knocking on the front door of Club Kidult. 

“Is the owner here?” You brushed the strange man’s hostility off. His glare turned to curiosity as he finally eyed you up and down in a manner that wasn’t unfamiliar. 

“Why? Does he owe you money, doll?” The man moves to fully stand in the doorframe, letting you get a nice view of the inside of the shop behind his tall stature. 

“No…” You huff quietly at the insinuation before giving him your sweetest smile, knowing exactly how to play with a man. “I wanted to see if I could perform here tonight.” 

“You a dancer?” 

“I can be if you want.” You couldn’t help the flirty tone, the man was attractive and so far he hasn’t treated you like an object. “But I mainly sing.”

“A singer?” He hums quietly, his grin showing off his sharp teeth. “We don’t get many of those around here, most women want to dance on our stage.” 

“I could imagine,” You cross your arms, pushing your boobs up slightly. “So… Is he in?” The man hums quietly. 

“Ah, no.” He was very blunt with his answer before he looked back over his shoulder to look at the empty building. “But…”

“But?”

“He might kill me for this but,” he looks back at you. “I’ll let you wait for him. He likes to stop by and make sure everything is ready for the night before he goes to get dolled up.” 

“Well I don’t want to get you in trouble now.” 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get me in a lot of trouble, doll,” He gives you a wink before he’s moving out of the way to welcome you into the club. “Too bad I’m not scared of Cheol.”

“Cheol?” You question as you hesitantly walk into the establishment. Despite it being closed still, there was music playing and you could hear a lot of voices coming from somewhere in the back - easing your nerves of possibly being alone with this stranger. 

“Choi Seungcheol is the name of the owner, but don't call him that or he might bite your head off.”

“So what do I call him then?” 

“I’m sure he’ll tell you, but you can address him as sir, I guess.” The man shrugs. “I’m Mingyu by the way, head of security at this joint.”

“So head of security, do you just let all the people that come knocking on the door looking for your boss in?”

“Only the pretty ones.” He smirks as he walks around the bar. “Our bartenders don’t show up for another hour but I can whip you up somethin' simple if you like.” He leans against the counter as he watches you take a seat at one of the bar stools. 

“Whiskey please.”

“Just whiskey?” He looks at you with raised eyebrows as you nod your head. You never felt comfortable in bars back home, the majority of them filled with only men and so the list of mixed drinks intimidated you. The only thing you were comfortable with was bourbon and whiskey as your father always had them in stock in his cabinet. “I like you.” Mingyu grins as he pulls the most expensive bottle of whiskey off the shelfs to pour over ice for you. 

“I’m wonderin'…” You mumble as you pull the glass towards you after Mingyu set it down on a napkin for you. 

“About?” The tall male leans against the counter top. 

“Is it true?” You take a sip of your whiskey and before you can reiterate what you mean, Mingyu beats you to it.

“If the rumors are true?” He shrugs at your scoff. “Most of us workin' aren’t from here… Couple of the girls are from across the pond like yourself.”

“They're American?”

“Well… A little more south. Brazil I think.”

“Are they dancers?” You take another sip of your drink. “I’m assuming that’s what Mr. Choi likes.”

“A few are but one of them is our head chef.” Mingyu hums quietly. “And dancers aren’t Cheols favorite, they're mine.” You laugh quietly at his wolfish grin. 

“Well what does Mr. Choi like?” 

“Well he doesn’t like to be called Mr. Choi, that’s for sure.” He pushes off the counter just as the door to the club opens. “And he likes singers!” He’s quick to rush out as he speed walks around the bar to stand in front of you a little. 

“Wha-” You stop midway through your word as you spin in your chair to see a man dead staring in your direction. 

“Cheol!” 

“Mingyu…” His voice was low and dangerous as he tried to scope you out from behind the tall wall of a man. 

“Hiya boss… Look.” 

“What have I told you about bringin' strays in while I’m not here.”

“C’mon man look at her, she’s smokin'!” He whips around to quickly apologize before he’s turning back towards the man you presumed was Choi Seungcheol. “She wants to sing here.” He doesn’t give anyone a chance to breathe as he steps to the side to give Seungcheol the full view of you. He falters for just a millisecond as his eyes scan you from head to toe before he’s turning to Mingyu. 

“Next time ya bring someone in here without me knowin', I’m cuttin' your pay.”

“Noted.” Mingyu nods quickly. 

“Come with me upstairs.” He doesn’t give you a second glance before he’s walking towards a set of stairs that are blocked off that lead up to the upper level where his office sits.

“So, ya wanna work here?’ Seungcheol wasted no time as he offered the seat in front of his desk for you to sit in. His accent a little different from his friend downstairs and you figured it had to do with the duration of time each had spent in the country. 

“Yes,” you take the seat with a small nod of thanks. “I wanna sing on your stage.” The look Seungcheol gave you as he sat back in his office chair, the slight glare of his eyes as they raked your body, caused shivers to run up your spine. 

“A singer?” He mumbles behind the hand that rested over his mouth as he propped his elbow on the arm of his chair. 

“Yes. I used to sing in New York an-”

“New York? You're American?”

“I... yes,” you mumble. “Is that a problem?”

“No... Not one bit.” He sat up straighter, fixing his coat as he eyed you up again. “My whole staff is foreign, as are my performers.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“My reputation carries, I see.” He smirks. 

“So... Will you let me sing here?” You lean forward a little, letting your chest pop out a little, hopefully his eyes will linger long enough for him to fold. 

“I’ll need to hear you first before I let you on my stage.” His eyes don’t waver from your face, he knew the game you were trying to play - it’s one he’s played plenty of times to get where he was. 

“Oh...” You huff quietly before sitting back in your chair. 

“Don’t sound so disappointed darlin’, I didn’t say no.” He has to bite his tongue to keep from grinning at the way your demeanor changed in seconds. “We’re closed on Sundays, come back then and show me what you got and I’ll decide if I have room for you or not.” 

“Sunday?” 

“What? Don’t tell me you’ve got plans already.” He watched the way you messed with a beat up rosary sticking out of your pocket.

“I didn’t take you for someone that got on their knees for men that were higher than them.”

“Only the rich ones.” You smile back. “But no, I don’t go to church anymore. I just have a date with the eiffel tower.”

“I see, sorry I assumed because I saw the rosary. I’ve only known church goers to carry them.”

“I abandoned the church a long time ago, it just used to be my grandma's, it’s kind of like my good luck charm now.”

“I abandoned the church a long time ago too.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes lit up in curiosity. 

“Times are changing, life’s too short to not love who and what you wanna love.”

“So you swing one way… two ways?...” Your voice trailed off as you tried to guess his preference.

“I swing anyway you want me to, darlin’.” He leans over his desk and rests his chin on the back of his interlocked hands so he can give you a cheeky grin. “We can even invite the idiot downstairs that let you in if that floats your boat…” Your legs squeeze closed at the idea and his eyes can’t help but wander this time. “And I’m sure it does.” 

“So Sunday?” You whisper, your voice getting lost in your throat at the way Seungcheol's eyes looked back up at you through his lashes. 

“Sunday, nine in the morning. Can you do that?” You nod quickly. 

“Yes!” You clear your throat as your voice cracked from the change in volume. “Yes, I can do that.” He laughs a little at your contained excitement as he sits back in his chair again. 

“Good, don’t be late. I expect you to be here the second the clock hits nine and if you’re not… My doors won’t open.”

“Got it... Sir.” You smile sweetly at him, his adam’s apple bobbing a little as he scoffs quietly. 

“Good… Girl. Now go, suns goin down and we open soon.” 

“Right. Well, I’ll see you on Sunday.” You stand up and straighten your shorts before you give him a curt nod and scurry to the door. Just as you open it you turn your head back and give him the cutest smile you could muster. “Thank you, Sir.” 

Before you could get any kind of response from him you close his office door quickly and rush down the stairs, cheering quietly to yourself. You were going to spend the rest of the week anticipating this little “audition.”

“I take it he’s lettin' you in?” Mingyu was leaning against the bar top, a shaggy brown haired male working behind him, cleaning glasses. 

“Well, not exactly.”

“What?” The unknown male stopped what he was doing to look at you wide eyed. “You’re the finest girl to walk through those doors and ask to work here and he just turned you down?” 

“Chan…” Mingyu's voice was laced with warning. 

“Sorry…” He mumbles to you before he goes back to cleaning his cups. 

“It’s alright, I’m used to it.” You shrug with a smile. “But he didn’t turn me down, he just said I have to show him what I got first before I can sing on his stage.”

“First, ya shouldn’t be used to men treatin' you like that, this world is disgusting.” Mingyu pushes off the counter so he can walk you to the door. “And second, Cheol has never allowed just any singers to sing here. You have - ”

“I have to be good, I know.” You smile up at him and pat his arm that was firm under your touch and it took everything in you to not do it again just to feel the muscles that laid under his shirt. 

“Piece of advice...” He mumbles to you as he opens the club’s doors for you. “He likes upbeat songs, things that are funky and out there.” 

“Has he heard of Abba?” 

“Honey... I don’t know who that is.”

“So I know what to play then.” You both mirrored the same grin as you stepped out into the dimming light. 

“Will you be okay walkin' home?” You nod your head as you turn to walk backwards to watch Mingyu watch you walk while he leans against the doorframe. 

“I live close enough to see your neon lights shine!” You call out over the loud roaring of a car passing by. “I’ll be fine!”

“You better be! I wanna see you perform!” He yells back, waving at you as you wave and turn to start to run down the sidewalk in joy. You laugh to yourself, twirling and jumping over the curbs - your dream was one step closer to coming true. 

Sunday couldn’t come any quicker as you spent everyday exploring Paris just to sit at your window and watch the crowd in front of Club Kidult every night. To think that that many people could be lining up next week to hear you sing - if all goes well - when you meet Seungcheol again. 

When you woke up to the sun barely peeking over the horizon, you groaned in frustration. Your little alarm was set to go off in forty more minutes but the excitement of what was going to happen in a couple hours had you jumping up to take a long hot shower. 

You let your hair air dry for a little bit before you set it up in curlers so you could finish off drying them with the fancy new hair dryer you splurged on when you moved here. You could never afford these types of luxuries back home, the prices being drastic. 

You hummed the tune of the song you were going to be performing quietly as you danced around your room getting clothes out so you could change while your hairs cooled off in the curlers - hopefully making your curls last longer. 

“I can’t believe today is the day,” you mumble as you buttoned up your high waisted pants that flared a little at the bottom. Tucking your shirt in a little, you make your way to your front door where all your shoes sat waiting for you to choose from. 

You go back to humming your song as you slip your shoes on, fixing the straps on them before standing up straight to check your makeup in the mirror by your door. You yelp quietly at the sight of your curlers still in before you are carefully rushing to take them down. 

“Can’t believe I almost walked out the house lookin' like a clown.” You laugh quietly at yourself as you go back to your bathroom to hairspray your hair, mumbling that you’ll clean your apartment floors later tonight as you trudged your outdoor shoes through your living room.

Once you were out the door, you all but skipped down the hall, taking the steps two at a time as you happily jumped down them so you could make it to the club on time - early even, which you hoped made a good first impression on the owner. 

“You’re early.” Mingyu chirps from behind you as you make your way up to the front doors of the club. 

“Jesus!” You yelp in surprise.

“Sorry darlin’, didn’t mean to scare ya.” He walks past you to unlock one of the doors. “Cheol ain’t here yet, it’s barely eight.”

“Guess I’m earlier than I thought.” You laugh nervously. 

“He’ll like that. Most of us barely run on time.”

“You’re here early too, though.”

“Actually, between me and you I’ve been here since seven.” He laughs quietly as he hangs his coat over one of the bar chairs. “We have a delivery comin soon and I was supposed to be here waitin' and cleanin'.”

“Well your secret is safe with me.” You smile at him as you watch the way he messes with the clock on some machine on the wall before he’s putting a card through it. “Don’t forget to set that clock back.” 

You watch Mingyu almost break his back as he jerks back around to make sure the punch machine clock reads the same time as the clock on the wall before he’s putting the glass cover back on it. 

“Thank you, darlin'’” He gives you a grin full of teeth. 

“No problem, handsome.” You giggle at the way he puffs his chest out a little at the comment. “If you need any help I obviously have some free time.”

“Just sit there and look cute while I restock the bar to make room for new inventory in the back.” He winks at you. “Wouldn’t want you gettin' hurt before you're supposed to perform for me and the big boss.”

“Lookin' pretty is no fun.” You huff as you sit at the bar just as the club door swings open to let in a bunch of natural light. 

“You must never have fun then.” Seungcheol doesn’t waste a beat as he locks the club door before shrugging his coat off and making his way to the staircase.

“I have plenty of fun, thank you very much.” You cross your arms and watch the way his pants accentuate his ass. 

“Do you now?” He stops in front of his office door to look back at you. “Hard to believe for a pretty face like yours.”

“You think I’m pretty?” 

“Doll… I’d be dumb to not think it.” You can’t help the little happy wiggle you do as Seungcheol turns back around to walk into his office. 

The bar doesn’t stay quiet for long as Mingyu hauls a bunch of boxes from the backrooms that are filled with supplies. 

“We had a busy week.” He drops the last box on the counter in front of you. “Had to call in this month’s shipment early.” 

Your eyebrows rose in curiosity as you peek into the box to view its contents. Packs of little drink umbrellas filled half the box, and with even more curiosity, you pull one of them out. 

“You mind pullin' those all out for me?” Mingyu sets an almost empty container on the counter next to the box that had a couple little umbrellas left. “Just put 'em in there and Chan will unwrap them later.”

A nice silence fell between the two of you as he replaced missing alcohol bottles on the shelves and put more cups under the counter. Mingyu even gave you a box full of straws and told you to wash your hands so you could fill all the straw dispensers with what was left in the box. 

“Are you makin' her work before she’s even hired, Gyu?” Seungcheol walks down the stairs to smile at the sight of you stocking straws and Mingyu stacking more receipt books under the register. 

“Hey, she wanted to help.” Mingyu shrugs as he goes about his business unbothered. 

“It’s fun stocking things.” You shrug in a similar manner as Mingyu without even looking up from the dispenser you're trying to symmetrically stuff straws into. 

“You two are strange.” He shakes his head before sitting at the bar to admire the way you floated behind the counter, moving around Mingyu's clumsy figure like he didn’t even exist. 

“Strange how?” Mingyu scoffs as he finishes his task before turning to stuff the last straw dispenser despite your whining that you were just about to do that one. “There was time to kill before her performance.” 

“There was only time to kill cause someone here is an early bird.” He smiles at the way you cross your arms. “Which is nice… It’s refreshing to see someone here before me.”

“Hey, I was here before you.” Mingyu butts in. 

“It’s a miracle.” Seungcheol raises his eyebrow at the tall male in a manner that challenged him to keep arguing. 

“Fuck face.” Mingyu mumbles under his breath in a playful manner before he starts gathering all the empty boxes to break down and toss out. 

“So.” Once Mingyu took all the trash to the backrooms Seungcheol put all his attention back on you. “Any reason why your early?”

“Gonna complain already?” You lean against the counter so you were closer to his vicinity. Mimicking you, Seungcheol leans forward too – you're so close your breath mingles together. 

“Who said I was complainin'?”

“Well you don’t seem too happy I’m here.”

“Oh darlin’, I’m over the moon.” He smirks at the way you bite your lip, your red lipstick unwavering. 

“Maybe I just wanted some alone time with your little guard back there without any distractions, like you.” You hum playfully. 

“Ouch, you’re hurtin' me doll.” He runs his tongue over his teeth.

“Aw.” You fake pout before you're grinning. “You could hurt me.”

“The only thing I’d hurt on you, doll, are your hips.” 

“Is that a promise?” You lean over the counter, a little more in excitement. Flirting came naturally to you, it was a great way to get what you wanted but you’ve never felt more genuinely attracted to someone like you are to Seungcheol. Before he could respond, Mingyu comes sauntering through the backdoors with his arms full of cleaning supplies. 

‘Great timing, Gyu” Seungcheol pulled away at the same time as you jumped back from leaning on the counter. 

“Sorry,” He looked at you, then his boss before he was dropping the supplies on the counter. “Did I interrupt somethin'?” Neither of you answered, which was enough of an answer for Mingyu as he starts to clean the bar, mumbling another apology to you as you scurried from behind the counter to stand a little awkwardly off to the side of where Seungcheol was sitting. 

“It’s almost time for you to sing for us, need me to set anything up for you?” You shake your head no, you were more than familiar with the systems that were used in clubs like this. “Everything you’ll need is either behind the stage or off to the side, yell if you need me.” 

While you were turning the system and speakers on, you realized you forgot your vinyl record that had the song on it at home. Cursing quietly under your breath you pray that they somehow have the record as you start to flip through the hundreds of vinyl records they had in the back. 

“How the hell are you not gonna have Abba in here?” You whine quietly as you made your way through the last couple of vinyls. “Mr. Choi!” You yell loud enough for him to hear you from behind the stage. You could hear what sounded like the chair hitting the counter (or floor) and Mingyu cursing as Seungcheol’s quick footsteps approach from behind you. 

“Are you okay?” His voice was filled with worry.

“I forgot my record at home and you don’t have it here for me to use in the background.” You huff quietly, a small pout on your lips. 

“Aw darlin'; you gave me a heart attack, I thought you hurt yourself.” Seungcheol sighs in relief. “Just sing without it, wow us even more without the sound.” 

“I haven’t performed for people without the music before.” You mumble, a little self conscious of your raw voice.  

“It’ll just be me and Gyu, you got nothin' to worry about.” He reassures you with a smile. “I’m gonna sit down, come out when you’re ready.” 

When Seungncheol went back out to the front room, you started to pace back and forth. You focused on the melody of the song in your head – you’ve sang this song a million times, both with and without the track, so it shouldn’t be too hard. 

After a couple minutes pass by, you finally take a deep breath and push your nerves down. Without much of a second thought, you walked out onto the stage and up to the mic that was already setup. Seungcheol was sitting at the bar with a glass of what looked like orange juice while Mingyu leaned against the counter to watch you intensely. 

“This song is supposed to be upbea.t so it might not sound as good without the music but,” you took a deep breath. “I’ll be singing Dancing Queen by Abba for you.” 

“You’ve got this!” Mingyu cheered quietly as he smiled encouragingly, while Seungcheol offered a soft smile that calmed you down instantly. 

You did a count in your head before you closed your eyes so you could feel the song deeper before you started to sing. Even without the music playing, you managed to stay on beat almost perfectly and as far as either male knew, the way you were singing the song was exactly how the song was supposed to sound. 

“That was…” Mingyu broke the silence right after you had finished singing before he started to clap and cheer loudly for you. “You’re amazing!” He flicks Seungcheol’s ear to snap him out of whatever trance he was in to give you his thoughts.

“I told you you didn’t need the music playing.”

“Wow you start off with ‘I told you so,’.” Mingyu mocks him playfully which earned him a rather harsh smack and a giggle from you. 

“Well I’m glad you both liked it since I was up here shakin' like a leaf in the wind.”

“Couldn’t even tell.” Mingyu calls after you as you go to shut the system off before joining the two in the front room again. 

“I don’t know what I was expectin' when you said you were a singer.” Seungcheol watches you take a seat. 

“Yeah he’s picky with his women, I mean singers.” Mingyu quickly excuses himself when Seungcheol glares at him hard. 

“Don’t listen to that idiot.” He sighs quietly. 

“It’s ok, I’m picky with my men.” You shrug and smile playfully at Seungcheol as you hop up onto the bar stool that was one away from where he was sitting. 

“Do you wanna sing here Friday nights?”

“Are you serious?”

“It’s just to start off with, if the people like you I’ll book you for more nights.” He takes a sip of his juice to hide his smile as he watches you practically jump in your seat out of excitement.

“I’d love to!” You bite your tongue to keep from squealing too loud. “I’ll remember my record this time.”

“You’ll have to show it to me so I can buy it for here.” You nod your head quickly.

“I can’t believe it,” You smile brightly again, your excitement hard to contain. “Thank you so so much.”

“Of course, don’t disappoint me now, okay?” His voice was playful.

“Never.” You sounded one hundred percent serious.

“Good girl.” He mumbles under his breath before he’s taking another sip of his juice. 

“I should get going now, I still have that date with the eiffel tower and a cafe to get breakfast.”

“Right.” He stands up from his chair so he can walk you out. “The view from the tower is beautiful.”

“So I’ve heard.” 

“You hear a lot of things don’t you, doll?”

“Only good things I fear.” You give him a cheeky smile as you sigh quietly at the feeling of the warm sun hitting your face as you step outside. 

“Well, have fun. I’ll see you Friday?”

“Maybe sooner if you’re lucky.” You can’t will yourself to step away yet. 

“Well I hope I’m lucky then.” He leans against the doorframe, unable to move himself. 

“We’ll see if you are.” A car horn in the distance finally broke you from whatever was keeping you glued there as you stepped backwards down the sidewalk like you did when saying bye to Mingyu the first day you were at the club. “Bye Mr. Choi, See you soon!”

“I hope.” He mumbles to himself as he waves back at you, yelling to be careful as you almost run into a lamp post.

“Bye Darlin’!” Mingyu pushes Seungcheol out the way so he can yell down the road before you were too far out of earshot. 

“Bye Mingyu!” You turn back around to yell. “By the way, my name is Y/N!” Your laugh could be heard even from that distance as you make your way towards the Eiffel tower, flipping off a man who cat-called you from his car. 

For some reason you found it hard to sleep, the birds were extra loud outside your window and the sun had barely breeched the horizon. Groaning for the umpteenth time that morning, you sit up abruptly, your hair a wild mess from all the tossing and turning you’ve been doing. 

“This is stupid.” You mumble before tossing your blankets off your body so you could go to the bathroom to take a shower, hoping it’ll wake you up more.

The market down the street was going to open soon and you were in desperate need of more milk and coffee for your apartment. So when you got out of your shower you didn’t waste too much time in doing your hair, choosing to put it up in a messy ponytail with a red ribbon you recycled from an old christmas present. You didn’t bother with makeup before walking out of the house in a skirt that you cut to sit in the middle of your thighs along with a tank top. 

Strolling down the street slowly, you reminisced a little with what’s happened the last couple of weeks, from you leaving New York and being stuck on a ship for weeks only to land in France where your dreams came true quicker then they ever would in America, the so called place where dreams come true. In the middle of your thoughts, an obnoxious whistle broke you from your trance and an even more obnoxious voice followed. 

“Hi there, sweets.” The thick French -ccented English was slurred by alcohol and you weren’t surprised as you gave him the fakest and sweetest smile you could muster. 

“Don’t fall on your way home.” You wiggled your fingers as you waved him goodbye. Sometimes it was better to hold your tongue and be nice, especially in a foreign setting that you weren’t too familiar with. 

Luckily that was the only thing you had to deal with before making it to your destination. The market was just barely opened, the cashiers and a couple other customers joined you in the rather spacious store for it being so close to downtown. 

“Well hey there, darlin'.’” The grin in the voice made you know instantly who it was. 

“Hi Mingyu.” You put a jar of strawberry preserves into your little wicker basket that you brought with you as a bag. 

“How’dja know it was me?” You looked up at the six-foot-something male with a raised eyebrow. 

“Kiddin' me? I could hear the shameless grin in your voice from a mile away.”

“Touched you can recognize me without even lookin', I must be that good lookin'.” 

“Hardly.” You grin playfully as you move on to look at the selection of bread they had on display today. 

“Ouch, you hurt me darlin’.” He whines and it reminds you of Seungcheol, and a chill ran up your spine at the mere thought of said male. 

“What brings you to the store so early? Thought you weren’t a mornin' person.” You put a loaf of sourdough bread in your basket and look back to see Mingyu's brown mop of hair peeking over the top of the shelf as he moved to the aisle over. Either he’s tall as fuck or the shelves are short, both could be true. 

“Cheol’s been cooped up in his office all mornin stressin', an' being his right hand, it’s my job to stress with him I guess.” He sighs quietly but you still heard it as you moved further away from him to grab some bagels. 

“Stressed?”

“Yeah, immigration is on his ass 'bout papers for all the workers, himself included, so he’s tryin to get his shit straight before someone gets in trouble.” Mingyu pops up next to you to grab himself some bagels. “So bring your papers with you on Friday, darlin’.” 

“I will.” You hum quietly before looking down at the weird assortment of things in his store basket. “Whatcha makin’?” 

“Whatever Cheol is in the mood for later, I love cookin' and it helps him get the stick out his ass.” He shrugs as he moves towards the refrigerated section. 

“You cook?”

“And clean so if yer lookin’ for a husband I’m takin' applications.” He looks at you over his shoulder. “But only for you, darlin’.”

“In your dreams lover boy.”

“I could always dream ‘bout you.” He laughs quietly when you scoff. “Guessin' I’m not your type?” All you can do is shrug.

“Don’t gotta type.”

“Oh?” 

“All they gotta be able to do is make me orgasm I guess.”

“Scandalous.” He checks through a couple packs of eggs before finding one he’s content with. “You and Cheol are similar in that way - as long as they’re kind he doesn’t care much who or what they are.”

“Do you care?” 

“All I care is that they like my cookin’.” You knew you had found your people as you continue to shop with Mingyu trailing behind, picking up items he wasn’t even planning on until he saw you shopping in the section. 

“Are you going back to the club now?” You walk out the store after you argued with Mingyu over him paying for your groceries, him arguing that it was a “welcome to the neighborhood” gift. 

“Only to drop this stuff off.” He holds up his bag of groceries. “Then I gotta go pick up Cheol’s suit from the tailor and pick up some more food that I can’t get at a regular market.”’

“Imports?”

“Fresh fish straight from the ports of Japan and I’m picking up an order I had put in a while back for fresh Gochugaru.” 

“Chili flakes?” You looked at him curiously.

“Yeah... You know Korean?”

“A little, my neighbor was a little old Korean lady and her kids moved across country and didn’t visit anymore, so I’d hang out with her often and she’d teach me Korean.”

“Cute,” Mingyu smiles gently, a huge contrast from the grin he always had. “Me and Cheol were forced to learn English when we had moved here because it was either that or French and one was significantly easier than the other for us.” 

“You speak really well.” 

“Thank you, I try.” You couldn’t help but giggle at the way he puffed his chest out. 

A comforting silence fell over the two of you as you continued to walk down the street in the general direction of where you lived. Reaching a certain intersection you two stop - one way led you the rest of the way to your apartment and the other way led in the direction of the club. 

“Need me to walk you the rest of the way home?” 

“I got it from here Gyu.” You start to walk again in the direction of home, leaving Mingyu to stand there on his own. 

“Gyu...” He smiled happily at you using his nickname. “Be safe! And I’ll be out of the club for at least an hour if you wanted to go visit the stress ball in his office, he could use the distraction!” 

“I’ll consider gracing him!” You call back over your shoulder before waving goodbye to the golden retriever of a man who all but scurried across the street, narrowly missing a car who he quickly cursed at loud enough for you to hear him from down the road. 

It didn’t take you long to get all your groceries put away, the thought of going to see Seungcheol had you moving on auto pilot. Taking a second to freshen up your appearance, you make sure your hair isn’t frizzy before you make your way out of your apartment to walk to the club. 

The streets were unnaturally quiet as you walked in the direction that has become all too familiar to you in the short amount of time you’ve been here. Finally seeing the doors come into view, you realize that Mingyu said he was going to be out, so you had no idea on how you were going to get in. 

“Oh!” Mingyu jumps a little as he opens the door to leave to see you standing there with a look of contemplation on your face. “You came darlin’. ”

“I hope I will be later,” The look of confused curiosity Mingyu gave you made you shake your head with a fond smile, opting to not explain your innuendo. “You said I’d be a good distraction for Mr. Choi so of course I came.”

“Well he’s up in his office, like he has been for hours.” Mingyu sighs quietly as he looks up at Seungcheol’s office in worry before he’s turning to give you a smile. “Like I said, I’ll be out for a couple hours so whole place is to yourselves.”

“Thank you.” You wave him goodbye, wishing him to be safe. 

“Mr. Choi?” You mumble quietly as you knock on his door. It takes a long few seconds for you to get any acknowledgement that he heard you. “I’m comin’ in.” You didn’t give him the option to let you in or not as you open the door slowly to see tired eyes framed by fluffy and tousled hair looking at you. 

“Whatcha doin’ here, honey?” The new nickname sent butterflies a flight in your tummy as you close the door behind you and make your way to stand in front of his desk. 

“Gyu said you were stressin’,” you mumble as you look at all the paperwork spread across his desk. “Maybe you need a break from all this.” 

“I can’t just ignore this all…” He sighs quietly as he runs his hand through his hair for what looks like the millionth time that morning. 

“I’m not saying to forget ‘bout it, just saying you need to relax.” You start to gently and carefully stack the papers into a neat pile before setting it on the corner of his desk. Seungcheol just watches your hands move, even as you slowly move around his desk to stand behind him. “Let me help you, Mr. Choi.”

You hum quietly as you rest your hands on his shoulders and gently pull him to sit back in his chair. Sighing again, Seungcheol lets you do whatever you want as you start to massage at his shoulders - something you picked up from the men that you’d visit that worked on Wall Street. 

“That feels nice.” He mumbles, his eyes fluttering closed as he relaxes into the back of his chair more. 

“Yeah?” You mumble with a smile, a little sultry tone to your voice as you knead a little harder, the knot under your fingertips melting away. Seungcheol groans, satisfied at the tension leaving his body as he curses quietly in Korean causing you to giggle quietly. The words were familiar, your old neighbor having said them a time or two but in an angrier tone. 

“What’s so funny doll?” He opens his mouth, his eyebrow raised in curiosity as he looked up at you. 

“Nothin’ Mr. Choi.” You move your thumbs to rub as the back of his neck, gentler than you treated his shoulders. 

“Y’know, if you keep callin' me Mr. Choi, I might just have to marry you.” He grins a little at the way you squeak in shock. 

“You haven’t even taken me out to dinner yet and yer already proposin’?” You watch as Seungcheol sits up straight and rolls his head and shoulders, sighing in content at the relief he feels. 

“My mother calls my father Mr. Choi, they’ve been married forty years now.” You couldn’t tell if he was joking anymore about the marriage thing as he spun around in his office chair to look up at you. 

“What?” You look down at your outfit to see if there was anything he was staring at as a minute of silence passed by with him just looking at you. 

“You should be on the cover of Vogue instead of in some place like this.” His fingers twitch on his lap as he finally lets his eyes wander farther than your face, but not for long as he’s looking back up into your eyes. Something about the way he held eye contact had your knees feeling weak.  He didn’t look at you like you were a piece of meat but rather that you were the finest chocolates from À la Mère de Famille. 

“I’m not a model sir.” You shrug as you begin to feel shy, something you haven’t felt around a man in a long time. “Besides, I like it here. The workers are hot and the atmosphere is calmin’.”

“The workers?” He raises his eyebrow in a pouting manner. “What ‘bout the owner?”

“Oh, he’s more than hot but you didn’t hear that from me.” You wink, giggling quietly at the way his pout turns to a smirk. 

“Is that so? 'Nother rumor, I suppose.”

“Starting to think it’s not a rumor.” You hum quietly, rocking on your heels a little. 

“Are there any other rumors you wanna prove to be true, darlin’?” He leans back in his chair and manspreads as he props his chin on his hand that’s resting on the armrest. 

“Mm, not rumors per say.” You take an experimental step forward. “More of personal speculation.” 

“Speculation?” He watches you like a hawk, his eyes darkening the closer you get. 

“Can I touch you?” You whisper when you finally stand between his open knees. 

“Fuck…” He groans quietly at the idea. “Thought you’d never ask, darlin’.” He nods his head, giving you approval to touch him. 

Seungcheols adam’s apple bobs a little as he swallows, your fingers lighting a fire under his skin everywhere they ghost. You trailed your fingers up his knees and over his thighs before your palms begin to lay flat against his stomach. When you dig your fingers into the fabric of his dress shirt, Seungcheol flexed, the feeling of you tugging on it gently causes his resolve to crumble. 

“Can I touch you?” It’s his turn to ask as his hands moved to grip at his armrests tightly. 

“‘Course sir,” you whisper as you lean in closer, the scent of your soap filling his senses as his hands move to grab the back of your thighs so he can yank you to sit in his lap in one solid movement. 

“Tell me to stop.” He mumbles as his hands travel up your back so he can pull you closer to his body. 

“Don’t want you to stop.” You mumble as you lean closer to him, your hands leaving his stomach so you can drape your arms over his shoulders. 

“Tell me when then.” He lets you lean in first to kiss and once your lips are on his, he’s spinning his chair around so he can press you against the edge of his desk. Smiling into the kiss you begin to rock and roll your hips in a way that has him hissing and groaning as he pulls away from the kiss.

“You got the hips of a dancer.” He groans at how expertly you moved your lower body against his as he kisses down your cheek and to your neck, something no one has really done before. The time he took kissing and mapping out every inch of your neck until he found your sweet spot had you whining. 

“Told Gyu I was one,” You moan for the first time and it takes everything in Seungcheol to not slam you down on his desk to hear more of your pretty sounds. “Could show you what I got.”

“'Nother day.” He groans as he nips at the sensitive skin behind your ear before pulling away to look you in the eyes. Again the eye contact had your stomach flipping as you swallow the moan in your throat. “God…” He groans, his eyes closing as his hands on your back grip your shirt tightly. 

“Am I a god now  baby?”

“I’ll fuckin' worship you like one.” He growls when you push your hips down harder, the desire growing in every inch of your body as you bite your lip and watch him through hooded eyes. 

“Mmm~” You lean your head back and close your eyes in pleasure when Seungcheol finally grips your hips and grinds up into you. “Fuck daddy.” The name slips off your tongue like the old habit it was, men in America would fall to their knees when the word left your plush lips. 

In the blink of an eye, Seungcheol hoists you up to lay you flat on top of his desk so he can stand between your legs. His pupils were completely blown now, but you were sure yours were too as your thighs squeeze around his hips and he loosens the tie he had on and unbuttons the top buttons of his dress shirt. 

“I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t walk outta here, darlin’.”

“You did say you could bruise my hips daddy, hope you weren’t lyin’.” He haphazardly rolls his sleeves up past his elbows before he’s diving down to kiss you again, this time a lot harsher than the first. 

Moaning into his mouth, you tangle your fingers in his dark hair and tug it when he nips your tongue. All he does is smirk into the kiss and without letting up for much air ,he makes work on undoing his pants in the little room that’s between your bodies. 

You tug his hair hard enough for him to pull away, his eyes half open as he groans at the delicious sting on his scalp. When you let go of his dark locks he stands up straight again so he can push his dress pants down his thighs and make work on tugging your panties off from under the skirt you had on. 

“Tell me where you want me to finish.” He mumbles as he lets his hands travel up your thighs to slowly push your skirt up until it was resting on your stomach. His eyes stared you down like you were an art piece in the Louvre as his hands continued up your body till they were squeezing your boobs through the tanktop you were wearing. 

“Inside.” You could see his cock twitch behind his boxer briefs as his eyes snap up to look at you. 

“You sure darlin’? What ‘bout a kid?” He didn’t seem too nervous about having a kid with you but he was nervous that you might regret it. 

“I’m on the pill.”

“The pill?”

“Yeah, it’s what some of the girls back home would call their birth control.” Your hands reach out to grab the ends of Sungcheol’s dress shirt to try and tug him towards you again, the cold air hitting your exposed pussy making the desire grow even more in you. “Not too sure ‘bout it yet though, haven't had unprotected sex since startin' it but I guess we’ll see if ya knock me up tonight.” 

Seungcheol just smirks at your words and he opens his mouth to make some cheeky little comment but you sit up enough to grab his hair and yank him down to kiss him - shutting him up effectively and kickstarting his gears again as he pushes his hips against yours. The heat of your bare cunt makes his cock twitch more as he groans into the kiss that’s turned a little sloppy but that's just the way you like it as you grind your hips up against his, urging him to finally fuck you. 

“You’re so warm.” He almost whines when he pulls away from the kiss to breathe as he pushes his boxers down enough for his cock to smack up against his stomach. Your mouth waters at the sight and your core pulses at the thought of being filled up more than you’ve ever been. 

“'Nd your big.” You breathe out as he runs the tip of his cock through your folds, letting it nudge against your clit a couple times as he gets all nice and coated in your juices before he’s slipping further down where your entrance greedily sucks him in without much work from him. 

“Fuck.” His hands grip the edge of the desk by your head as his eyes roll a little at how you squeeze around him. It was a familiar feeling but one he hasn’t felt in a long time and he can say with ease that it’s never felt this good before and he’s barely bottomed out. 

“Move please.” You beg, the feeling of being split open made your brain go fuzzy and your mouth fill with drool as you choke on a moan when he slowly slides out till just the tip sits in your entrance. Just when you went to complain about him leaving you empty, he’s slamming back into you, jostling his desk and knocking the papers down that you had stacked up. “Fuck!” Your voice was high pitched and whiny as he definitely set a bruising pace early on. 

“That’s it, take it doll,” He groans into your ear as he kisses and nips at your cheek and ear. “So good.” He moves one of his hands to trail down your side where it rests on your hip. 

Your voice got lost in your throat as all you could do was moan and whimper a pathetic “Yes daddy,” every few seconds and every time you said it Seungcheol would find a new angle to make you say it louder and he’d accompany it with a smack to the side of your ass cheek - and when he felt like that side had enough attention hed switch to the other side. 

“You’re getting tighter baby.” He moans instead of groans this time which causes you to squeeze around his cock tighter, the sound sending shockwaves through your body. 

“So good~” You moan as you claw at his shoulders and scalp which draws more moans from him as he feels his orgasm approaching like a freight train. 

“Oh fuck.” His hips stutter a little as he digs his nails into your hip to keep a grip on you as he quite literally fucks you into his desk. 

“Right there daddy, fuck.” You gasp and lean your head back and bite your lip, your orgasm right there. “Daddy!” You squeal when he angles his hips up a little and hits your g-spot with precision, which finally draws you over the edge. 

The force of your orgasm pulls Seungcheol over the edge with you as he groans your name lowly into your ear followed by gentle kisses to the side of your head as he continues to fuck his cum into you until both of your orgasms have been ridden out. Slowly he manages to pull himself from your grasp as he hisses at the loss of your warmth wrapping around him. 

Pride swelled in Seungcheol’s chest as he looked down at your worn out state, your hair was a mess and little love bites adorn your neck like a necklace. The cherry on top of everything though was the way his cum seeped out of your weeping cunt and it has his cock twitching again. 

“Still think I belong on Vogue?”  You mumble a little shyly as you looked at the way he was just staring at you as you slowly sit up. When you hissed quietly he was quick to jump forward and help you. 

“I’ll always think that,” He smiles as he picks your panties up from where he dropped them and helped you slip them on while you were still sitting on his desk. “You’re gorgeous, doll.”

“Well I feel like I belong on Playboy,” You roll your eyes playfully at your own little joke towards yourself before you're smiling up at Seungcheol as you reach forward to fix his shirt as he tucks himself back into his boxers and pants. “And thank you, you're not too bad yourself sir.” He makes a little noise at the title. 

“What’s Playboy?” He mumbles as he rubs soothingly at your hips while slowly helping you off his desk where you stand on wobbly legs. 

“I’ll explain it later.” You giggle quietly before your stomach interrupts by rumbling. “I’m hungry now.” 

“Sure it’s not a baby in there?” You laugh at him while smacking his side. 

“Don’t jinx it or I’ll never get to have that threesome you promised me.” You joked playfully. 

“Oh we’ll still have that threesome, darlin’.” He grabs his coat to drape it over your shoulders as he helps you walk to the door of his office. “But I don’t take too kind to sharin’ what’s mine.”

“Does that mean I’m yours?” He shrugs as he looks down at you. 

“Are ya?” You try to hide your smile by biting your lip as you walk ahead of him down the stairs. 

“Maybe I am.” You finally hum as you turn to look at him once you made it to the bottom of the stairs. “Does that mean you’re mine?”

“Maybe it does.” He smiles at you as he stops directly in front of you and grabs your hips to pull you against his body. “Never felt like this for someone so quick, like hell I’d let you go.” He mumbles before he’s kissing you gently, one of his hands moving up to cup the side of your face as your hands cup the sides of his neck gently. 

“Well,” Mingyu’s voice was laced in a pout as he opened the door of the club, his arms full of bags. “Havin’ fun without me? I’m hurt.”

“Great timing, Gyu.” Seungcheol mumbles against your lips with a huff. You giggle quietly and pull away from Seungcheol completely to go and try and help Mingyu with what he was carrying. If it wasn’t for the look Seungcheol gave him he would’ve fought you harder to do it all himself. 

“Did you get all your ingredients for lunch?” You hum as you follow the tall male into the kitchen, where he directs where to put the stuff you were holding. 

“Yeah, the market wasn’t that packed yet thankfully, but it also meant I wasn’t as gone as long as I thought.” He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder with a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, we had plenty of time.” You snort at the way he almost fell when he whipped around to face you fully. “I’m hungry though so I’ll tell you the details later.”

“Deal, guess I gotta make a heavier lunch to make up for all the energy you two burnt.” He goes back to putting the groceries away, leaving you to wander back into the main room of the club where you expected Seungcheol to be but it was empty. Huffing quietly you sit at the bar and squeak a little at the feeling of your thighs becoming wet from the mess Seunghceol left in your panties. 

“Sorry, I had to go grab somethin' from my office.” Seungcheol joins you in sitting down not even a minute after you had sat down. 

“What is it?” You question curiously as he sets a small box in front of you. 

“A welcome gift, was gonna give it to you Friday, but guess you were right about seein' you sooner.” He smiles as you happily open the box only to close the lid quickly and slid it back towards him.

“No.”

“No?” He tried to not sound hurt.

“That looks too expensive.” He seemed to be a little relieved at this answer. 

“Don’t worry 'bout my money doll, besides you’re worth it.” He opens the box himself and pulls the little bottle of Chanel N°5 perfume. He opens the cap and gently grabs your wrist so he can spray a little bit onto it. 

“I’ve never heard of Chanel.” You mumble as you bring your wrist up to smell the perfume and you almost sigh at how good it smells. 

“Everyone is gonna know Chanel after they meet you.” He mumbles as he carefully puts the cap back on and puts it back in the box for you. 

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Cheol.” You look at him with raised eyebrows.

“You can call me Cheol when it’s just us and Gyu, and maybe Chan but he might tease me for it so try to refrain if you can.” He sighs quietly at the younger male’s antics. 

“Ok Cheol.” You smile, loving the taste of his nickname on your tongue and Seungcheol seemed to like it just as much as his adam’s apple bobs. 

“Ok love birds, try to not fuck on the bar please, don’t have time to disinfect it all.” Mingyu barges through the back door just as Seungcheol had leaned in to kiss you. 

“It’s my bar, Gyu.” Seungcheol glares at him as he sits up straight. 

“Not while I’m here, friend.” He laughs as he grabs three glasses so he could pour you all drinks. 

“Was thinking of making gochujang garlic noodles with some bulgogi and kimchi on the side.” Mingyu hands you your glass.

“That sounds amazing, I haven’t had kimchi and bulgogi since the night before I left.” You take a small sip of your whiskey, the warmth filling your body.

“You’ve had those things before?” Seunghceol looks at you curiously while he takes a sip of his alcohol. 

“Yeah, my neighbor was Korean and she’d cook all the time for me.” You give him a smile as you take another sip. 

“She even knows a little Korean!” Mingyu chirps up as he goes back to the kitchen with his glass of plain cranberry juice. 

“You do!?” He looks ecstatic as he jumps in to quizzing you on all the words you know while also teaching you a couple of his own favorite words while you two wait for Mingyu to finish cooking you lunch.

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