#softdom!san

[starskq]

TREAT YOU BETTER / C.S

Pairing ◊ sub!fem!reader x softdom!san (ft. Yeonjun of TXT)

Genre ◊ SMUT, fluff, angst, best friends to lovers

Warnings ◊ SMUT (MINORS DNI), softdom!San, sub!reader, oral (male receiving), fingering, a little rough, san is quite big, dirty talk, pet names (baby, sweetheart...), talk about an abusive relationship, emotional vulnerability, aftercare, unprotected sex (if you see anything I haven't put in there, please lmk!)

Word count ◊ 7,2k

Summary ◊ You show up in the middle of the night at San's apartment after your bf Yeonjun broke up with you, but what you do not know is how San is so unconditionally in love with you.

a/n: I portrayed Yeonjun in a certain way here, but don't come for me! I'm a MOA too!

You and San had been best friends for as long as you could remember. Growing up together, sharing secrets and dreams, it was no surprise that you felt entirely at home in his company. San's presence had always been a constant, a comforting backdrop to your life. However, what you hadn't noticed was the way his eyes lingered on you, the way his smile softened when you laughed. He had fallen for you long ago, but he never had the courage to admit it—not to himself, and certainly not to anyone else.

Meanwhile, you had been dating Yeonjun for a few months. At first, everything seemed perfect. He was charming, attentive, and everything you thought you wanted. But as time went on, Yeonjun's true colors began to show. He treated you poorly, his words often harsh and his actions thoughtless. Despite the growing cracks in your relationship, you clung to the hope that things would get better. They never did.

One Friday night, after a particularly brutal argument, Yeonjun broke up with you. His words were cruel, his tone biting, and you were left feeling utterly shattered. Unable to face the emptiness of your apartment, you found yourself standing outside San's door at midnight, your face wet with tears. 

You gently knocked at his door and San opened the door, his eyes widening in shock when he saw you. ‘’Y/n? What happened?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you just shook your head, tears streaming down your face. He was quick to take you in his arms, enveloping you in a warm hug before guiding you to his couch. 

"Talk to me," he urged softly, sitting beside you.

You took a deep breath, struggling to find your voice. "Yeonjun... he broke up with me," you finally managed to say, your voice trembling. "We had an awful fight. He was so mean.’’

San's eyes darkened with anger. "That bastard. What did he say to you?’’

You shook your head again, not wanting to recount the hurtful words. "It doesn't matter. I just... I couldn't stay there.’’

San clenched his fists, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "I want to go over there and beat him up. He has no right to treat you like this.’’

"No, San," you said quickly, placing a hand on his arm. "Please don't. It's not worth it. I just need you right now.’’

His expression softened instantly. "Okay. I'm here for you," he promised, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. You buried your face in his chest, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence. He stroked your hair gently, whispering soothing words.

"You deserve so much better," he murmured. "Yeonjun is an idiot for letting you go.’’

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "Do you really think so?’’

"I know so," San replied firmly. "You're amazing, and anyone would be lucky to have you.’’

A small smile tugged at your lips despite the pain. "Thank you, San. You're the best friend anyone could ask for.’’

San's heart ached at your words, but he forced a smile. "Anything for you," he said softly. He wished he could tell you how he really felt, how much he loved you, but he didn't want to risk losing your friendship.

San watched as you tried to find comfort on the couch. He hated seeing you like this, so broken and vulnerable. Determined to lift your spirits, even if just a little, he pulled the blanket around you more snugly.

"Hey," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "How about we try to take your mind off things for a bit?’’’

You sniffled, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. ‘’How?’’

San thought for a moment, then smiled. "Remember that time in middle school when we tried to bake a cake for your mom's birthday and ended up setting off the fire alarm?’’

You couldn't help but chuckle at the memory. "Yeah, and the cake was half-burnt, half-raw.’’

"Exactly! And your mom still said it was the best cake she'd ever had because we made it with 'extra love and a dash of chaos,'" San added, grinning.

A small smile played on your lips. "She was always so supportive.’’

San nodded, his eyes twinkling. "She still is. Just like you have so many people who care about you.’’

You sighed, leaning against him. "It's just hard, you know? I really thought Yeonjun was different.’’

"I know," San said, his voice gentle. "But sometimes people aren't who we hope they are. And that’s not your fault.’’ He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. "You deserve someone who sees how amazing you are and treats you with the love and respect you deserve.’’

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling a bit of the tension leave your body. "Thanks, Sannie. I don't know what I'd do without you.’’’

He squeezed your shoulder. "You'd do just fine. You're strong, even if you don't always feel like it.’’

For the next hour, San kept talking, sharing funny stories from childhood and moments that made you both laugh until your sides hurt. He reminded you of the time he tried to impress you by jumping off the highest diving board at the pool, only to belly-flop spectacularly. Or the time you both got lost during a school trip and ended up finding a hidden ice cream parlor that became your secret spot.

"Remember when we made that secret handshake?" he asked, his eyes bright with amusement.

You nodded, a real smile breaking through. "We thought we were so cool.’’

"We were cool," he insisted, demonstrating the complex series of claps and snaps you had created. "We still are.’’

You laughed, following along with the handshake. It felt good to laugh, even if just for a moment. San's presence was like a balm to your wounded heart, his affection and kindness wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

The night wore on, and though the pain of Yeonjun's words still lingered, it was dulled by San's unwavering support. He stayed by your side, talking and laughing. 

San, ever attentive, noticed how your eyes struggled to stay open.

"You look exhausted," he said softly, his hand still gently rubbing your back. ‘’You wanna stay over? You could take my bed.’’

You nodded, stifling a yawn. "I am, but I don't want to take your bed from you. I can sleep on the couch, it’s fine »

San shook his head, his expression firm. "No way. You need a proper bed to sleep in, and you're not arguing with me on this.’’ You tried to protest, but he held up a hand, silencing you. "I insist. Come on, let's get you settled."

He stood up and offered you his hand, helping you to your feet. You were honestly too tired to argue with him, you knew how stubborn he could be. As you reached his bedroom, he pulled back the covers and motioned for you to enter. You hesitated, looking at him with a mixture of gratitude and guilt.

"You sure?" you asked, your voice small.

"Positive," he replied firmly. "Now, get in."

You slid into the bed, the soft sheets feeling like a haven after the emotional turmoil of the night. San tucked the blanket around you, his movements gentle and caring.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked, his voice low and soothing.

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "No, this is perfect. Thank you, San."

He nodded, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You're welcome. Try to get some rest, okay? I'll be right outside if you need anything."

You reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it lightly. "You're really the best, you know that?"

San's smile was soft, his eyes filled with unspoken emotions. "I just want you to be okay. Sleep well."

With that, he turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You listened to his footsteps as he walked back to the living room, your heart was fluttering. He was just so affectionate and caring. 

San settled onto the couch, pulling the blanket over himself. The couch was familiar, a place he'd often crashed after late-night gaming sessions or movie marathons. But tonight, it felt different. Tonight, he was acutely aware of you in his bed, just a room away, and the vulnerability you'd shown him.

San lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling, unable to find any semblance of sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, images of you crying and hurt flashed through his mind. He was consumed by a mix of anger and helplessness, hating Yeonjun for what he'd done to you.

He tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position, but nothing seemed to work. His mind was too restless, his heart too full of unresolved emotions. He glanced at the clock—2:30 AM. With a frustrated sigh, he sat up, running a hand through his hair.

In the quiet of the living room, the sudden sound of a notification startled him. He looked over and saw your phone on the coffee table, its screen glowing with a new message. Curiosity and concern got the better of him, and he leaned over to see who it was.

It was a message from Yeonjun.

San's jaw clenched as he read the words on the screen:

[Junnie] I hope you're happy. You always find a way to make everything my fault. Good luck with this one.

San felt a surge of anger so intense it made his hands shake. He couldn't believe the audacity of Yeonjun to send such a cruel message after everything he'd put you through. It took every ounce of self-control not to grab his keys and march over to Yeonjun's place right then and there.

Instead, he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He knew that confronting Yeonjun wouldn't help you right now. You needed him here, not out picking a fight. But he couldn't just ignore the message either. He needed to find a way to protect and shield you from more pain.

He stared at your phone, contemplating whether to wake you up and tell you about the message. But you had finally found some peace, and he didn't want to disturb that. Instead, he decided to keep an eye on your phone for any more messages, ensuring nothing else would upset you tonight.

San stood up, pacing the living room, his mind racing. He needed to focus on something else, anything to keep from stewing in his anger. He went to the kitchen and made himself a cup of chamomile tea, hoping it might help him relax. As he waited for the water to boil, he replayed the night's events in his mind.

"Why can't he just leave her alone?" San muttered to himself, pouring the hot water over the tea bag. "Hasn't he done enough damage?"

He took a sip of the tea, its warmth doing little to soothe his frayed nerves. He wished he could do more for you, wished he could take away all the hurt and replace it with happiness. But he knew that healing took time, and all he could do was be there for you every step of the way.

San returned to the couch, setting the tea on the coffee table. He picked up your phone again, staring at Yeonjun's message. Without thinking, he typed out a reply:

[You] She deserves better than you. Leave her alone.

But he didn't send it. He deleted the message, knowing it wasn't his place to intervene directly. Instead, he placed your phone back on the table and sat down, his head in his hands. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

Lost in thought, he nearly jumped when he heard the soft sound of your footsteps approaching. He turned to see you standing in the doorway, looking small and vulnerable in the dim light.

"Sannie, are you still awake?" you asked quietly, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Yeah, I'm awake," he replied, his heart softening as he looked at you. "What's wrong? Do you need something?"

You hesitated, glancing down at your feet before meeting his eyes. "I... I don't want to be alone right now. Can you... can you come to bed with me?"

San's heart skipped a beat. You and he had shared a bed before, back in the days when sleepovers and movie marathons ended with both of you crashing wherever you could. But this felt different, more intimate. He could feel his emotions bubbling up, threatening to spill over.

He took a deep breath, pushing his feelings aside. This wasn't about him; it was about you needing comfort. "Of course," he said gently. "I'll be right there."

You gave him a small, grateful smile, and he followed you back to the bedroom. The room was filled with a soft, calming silence,.

San watched as you climbed back into bed, settling under the blankets. He hesitated momentarily before joining you, lying down on the other side. The bed dipped slightly under his weight, and he turned to face you, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, looking at him with a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Yes, thank you. I just... I didn't want to be alone tonight."

"I understand," San said softly. "I'm here for you."

You reached out and took his hand, holding it tightly. The simple gesture sent a rush of warmth through him, and he squeezed your hand in return.

"Do you remember all those sleepovers we used to have?" you asked, your voice tinged with nostalgia.

San smiled, nodding. "Yeah, of course. We used to stay up all night talking and laughing."

You sighed contentedly. "Those were some of the best times. I always felt so safe with you."

San's heart ached with the weight of his unspoken feelings. "And you still are safe with me. Always."

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the gentle sound of your breathing. San struggled internally, fighting the urge to confess everything he felt. But he knew this wasn't the time. You needed comfort, not complications.

San lay there, the steady rhythm of your breathing filling the room. He tried to calm his racing thoughts, but it was nearly impossible with you so close to him. The familiar warmth of your body pressed against his was something he had experienced countless times before, yet tonight it felt different—intensely different.

Every breath you took, every slight movement you made, seemed to send sparks of awareness through him. He could feel the rise and fall of your chest against his side, your head resting on his shoulder, and it was driving him to distraction. He knew it was wrong to feel this way, especially now, but he couldn't help it. The closeness, the intimacy of the moment, was turning him on in a way he hadn't expected.

He tried to shift slightly, hoping to ease the tension in his body, but it only seemed to make things worse. You stirred, tightening your grip on his hand and snuggling closer. San's heart pounded in his chest, and he swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing.

"San?" you murmured sleepily, your voice a soft whisper in the darkness.

"Yeah?" he replied, his voice tight with the effort of keeping his emotions in check.

"Are you okay?" you asked, concern evident even through your drowsiness.

San forced a smile, even though you couldn't see it. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... a lot on my mind."

You shifted slightly, your leg brushing against his. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through him, and he had to bite his lip to stifle a groan. "You can talk to me, you know. I'm here for you, too."

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "I know. It's just... it's nothing. Really."

You were quiet for a moment, your fingers gently tracing patterns on the back of his hand. As you drifted back into sleep, San lay there, his body tense and his mind racing. He couldn't understand why he felt so different this time. You had always been affectionate with each other, cuddling during movie nights or sleepovers, but tonight, the feeling was overwhelming.

He tried to distract himself, focusing on the sound of the rain tapping gently against the window, but his thoughts kept drifting back to you. The way your hair felt against his cheek, the warmth of your breath on his neck, the soft curves of your body nestled against his.

"Get a grip, San," he muttered to himself, trying to push the thoughts away. "This isn't the time."

But the more he tried to ignore it, the more aware he became of every tiny detail. The subtle scent of your shampoo, the softness of your skin, the way you fit perfectly against him. It was driving him crazy, and he didn't know how much longer he could take it.

You shifted, turning your back to him. For a brief moment, he thought the change in position might help him regain some control over his tumultuous emotions. But then you moved closer, pressing your back firmly against his chest. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around you, his hand resting gently on your stomach.

The intimacy of the position made his heart pound. Your body was so close, so warm, and he could feel every curve pressed against him. His mind raced, and he struggled to keep his breathing steady.

You sighed contentedly, snuggling closer. The movement pressed your body even tighter against his, and he felt a surge of heat rush through him. His mind screamed at him to keep it together, but the sensation of your curves against his chest, the softness of your body, was making it incredibly difficult. He could feel himself getting harder and harder. 

He closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the feel of you in his arms. He thought about the cold night air, the sound of the rain outside, anything to distract himself from the intoxicating closeness. But every time you shifted slightly, it sent another wave of awareness through him.

As you continued to shift and wiggle, seeking a comfortable position, it became increasingly difficult. Each movement pressed your body closer against him, and he could feel every curve, every contour, of your form against his. It was driving him mad.

You shifted again, your back pressing firmly against his chest, your hips moving slightly. San's breath hitched, and despite his best efforts, he felt himself getting harder. He clenched his jaw, trying to will away the arousal, but it was no use. Your absent-minded movements were too much for him to handle.

‘’Y/n, please stop moving,’’ he whispered hoarsely, his voice strained with the effort of keeping control.

You froze, the sudden tension in his voice startling you. Then you felt it—a hard, undeniable pressure against your lower back. Your eyes widened as realization dawned.

"San..." you whispered, turning your head slightly to look at him over your shoulder. "Is that...?"

San's face flushed with embarrassment. ‘’Fuck, I'm sorry," he stammered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

You could see the discomfort and shame in his eyes, and something inside you shifted. You felt a surge of confidence, an unexpected boldness. You turned fully to face him, your heart pounding. Without saying a word, you reached down and placed your hand over his hardness, feeling the heat and firmness through the fabric.

San's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening in shock. ‘’Y/n, what are you doing?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You met his gaze, your own eyes filled with a mix of determination and desire. "I want this too," you said softly, your hand gently squeezing him through his pants.

San's heart raced, but he hesitated, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. "You don't have to," he said, his voice strained. "I don't want you to feel pressured or like you owe me anything. Especially not after everything with Yeonjun."

You shook your head, your eyes softening. "San, I want this. I want you."

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "But I feel like I'm taking advantage of you. You're vulnerable right now, and I don't want to be another person who hurts you."

You looked at him, your expression serious. "San, you could never hurt me. The real reason Yeonjun and I broke up... it was because of you."

San's eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean?"

You sighed, feeling a weight lift as you prepared to share the truth. "Yeonjun was always jealous of our relationship. He couldn't understand how important you are to me. Last night, he asked me to choose between him and you.’’

San's heart skipped a beat. "And you chose me?"

"Without hesitation," you said firmly. "He couldn't accept that. He accused me of loving you more than him, and honestly, he was right. I do love you more."

San stared at you, a mix of emotions swirling in his eyes. "I had no idea," he whispered. "I never wanted to come between you two."

"You didn't," you replied, your voice steady. "Yeonjun did that himself. And when he forced me to choose, it made me realize just how much you mean to me."

San's heart ached with the weight of your words. "I never wanted to admit it, but I've always loved you," he confessed, his voice trembling. "But I was afraid of ruining our friendship."

You smiled, your eyes shining with tears. "You could never ruin it, San. You've always been there for me, through everything. And now, I want to be here for you."

San felt a surge of emotion, a mix of relief, joy, and overwhelming love. He reached out, cupping your face in his hands, his touch tender. "I love you," he said, his voice filled with sincerity and passion.

"I love you too," you replied, your voice a whisper.

He leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to. When you didn't, he pressed his lips to yours in a tender, lingering kiss. The sensation was electric, sending shivers down your spine. His lips were soft yet firm, moving against yours with a careful, loving precision. It was a kiss filled with years of pent-up emotions, a kiss that spoke of friendship, love, and unspoken desires.

San's hand moved to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss slightly. You could feel his breath mixing with yours, the warmth of his body so close to yours. Every touch, every movement was deliberate, as if he were memorizing the feel of you.

As the kiss continued, it grew more intense. The emotions that had been building up inside both of you for so long now found their release. His kisses became more urgent, his lips moving against yours with a newfound hunger. He tilted his head to gain better access, his tongue slipping out to gently trace your lower lip before seeking entrance.

You parted your lips, allowing him in, and a soft moan escaped from deep within your throat. The kiss was no longer just an expression of love but a claim. San's tongue explored your mouth, tasting and teasing, and you responded with equal fervor, meeting his passion with your own.

San's hands began to roam your body, his touch both gentle and possessive. He ran his fingers down your sides, feeling the curves of your waist and hips. His hands slid under your shirt, the warmth of his palms against your skin sending sparks of desire through you.

"God, you're so beautiful," he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with awe. 

He shifted, hovering over you, his body pressing you gently into the mattress. The weight of him felt comforting and exciting all at once. He broke the kiss just long enough to pull your shirt over your head, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of you.

"So perfect," he whispered, his voice husky. "You're perfect, baby."

You shivered at the pet name, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. "San," you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him back down for another kiss.

This kiss was even more heated, filled with an urgency that left you both breathless. San's hands roamed freely now, exploring every inch of your body with a mix of tenderness and possession. He cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, drawing a gasp from your lips.

"Does that feel good, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice low and rough with desire.

"Yes," you moaned, arching into his touch. "So good, Sannie."

He smiled against your lips, pleased with your response. "I want to make you feel amazing," he murmured, kissing a trail down your neck. "You deserve to be worshipped.’’

San's kisses trailed down your body, his lips and tongue leaving a path of fire in their wake. He paused at your breasts, taking each nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking until you were writhing beneath him, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

"San, please," you begged, your voice a mix of need and desperation.

He looked up at you, his eyes blazing with passion. "Please what, baby? Tell me what you want."

"I want you," you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. "I need you."

But he couldn’t give it to you right away. He knew he had to prepare you to ensure you were ready for him. He wanted this to be perfect for you.

He looked down at you. "I need to get you ready for me," he murmured, his voice husky. "I don't want to hurt you."

You nodded, your breath coming in shallow gasps. He kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck and across your collarbone. He moved lower, kissing a path between your breasts and down your stomach, savoring the taste of your skin. When he reached the juncture of your thighs, he paused, looking up at you with a mix of tenderness and hunger.

"You're so beautiful," he said softly, his fingers gently parting your folds. "I want to make you feel so good."

His touch was gentle at first, his fingers exploring your cunt with a tenderness that sent shivers through your body. He found your clit, circling it with his thumb while his fingers teased your entrance. You gasped, your hips lifting off the bed as he touched you.

"Sannie," you moaned, your voice a breathless plea.

He smiled, pleased by your response. "Let me hear you."

Slowly, he slid one finger inside you, feeling the warmth and tightness of your body. You moaned softly, your body arching into his touch. He moved his finger in and out, his thumb still circling your clit, and watched as your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure.

"Does that feel good?" he asked, his voice rough with desire.

‘’Fuck,yes,’’ you gasped, your hands gripping the sheets. "So good, San."

Encouraged by your response, he added a second finger, stretching you gently. The sensation was intense, and you cried out, your hips rocking against his hand. San's eyes darkened with lust, and he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

"You're so tight,’’  he murmured against your lips. "So perfect for me."

You whimpered, the pleasure building inside you with every movement of his fingers. "San, please," you begged, your voice a desperate whisper.

He groaned, the sound of your need driving him wild. "I love hearing you beg, baby," he said, his fingers thrusting deeper. "I could do this all night."

Every sound you made seemed to intoxicate him, fueling his desire to pleasure you. He curled his fingers inside you, hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars. You cried out his name, your body trembling with the intensity of the sensations.

"That's it," he urged, his voice low and commanding. "Come for me, sweetheart. I want to feel you."

You were so close, the pleasure coiling tight in your belly. With a final, deep thrust of his fingers, you shattered, your orgasm washing over you in powerful waves. You cried out, your body arching off the bed as you clung to him.

San watched you, his eyes filled with awe and desire. "You're so beautiful when you come," he murmured, his fingers still moving inside you, drawing out every last bit of your pleasure.

He slowly withdrew his fingers from you, his eyes dark with desire as he brought them to his lips. He tasted you on his fingers, his eyelids fluttering shut and a deep, satisfied groan escaping from his throat.

"God, you taste so good," he murmured, his voice rough with lust. His eyes rolled back in his head for a moment, lost in the intoxicating flavor of you. "I could get addicted to this."

Your cheeks flushed with heat at his words, but your own desire was just as intense. With a newfound boldness, you reached down and gently wrapped your hand around his hardness, inside his sweatpants, feeling the heat and firmness of him through his sweatpants.

"I want to touch you," you whispered, your hand stroking him slowly. "I want to make you feel good too."

A shiver of pleasure ran through him at your touch, and he groaned, his hips instinctively thrusting into your hand. "You already do," he said, his voice strained. "But I won't stop you."

With trembling fingers, you tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants, and he helped you remove them, tossing them aside. You marveled at the sight of him, hard and ready for you. He was indeed pretty big. Slowly, you wrapped your hand around his length, stroking him gently.

San let out a deep, guttural moan, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the sensation. "Just like that, baby.’’

You watched his face, mesmerized by the expressions of pleasure that crossed it. The sight of him, so vulnerable and turned on by your touch, filled you with a heady mix of power and desire. You wanted to give him as much pleasure as he had given you.

You positioned yourself between his legs, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and he smiled down at you, his gaze filled with love and encouragement.

Slowly, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his length, tasting the salty tang of his arousal. San's breath hitched, and he let out a deep moan, his hands gripping the sheets. You took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip before sliding down his shaft. You started slowly, finding a rhythm that felt comfortable, your hand stroking the base as your mouth moved up and down.

San's reactions were immediate and intense. His hips bucked slightly, and he let out a series of deep, guttural moans, his hands tangling in your hair. "Fuck, that feels so good," he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure.

You felt a surge of confidence at his praise, and you took him deeper, your mouth and hand working together to bring him pleasure. The sounds he made, the way his body responded to your touch, it all fueled your desire to please him.

"Yes, just like that," San panted, his voice low and rough. "You're so perfect, baby. So good to me."

You continued, the pace of your movements increasing as you sensed his pleasure building. His moans grew louder, his hips thrusting up to meet your mouth. You could feel him getting closer, his body tensing with anticipation.

"I'm close," he warned, his voice strained. "So close, baby."

You looked up at him with doe eyes, your eyes meeting his, and you could see the raw desire and love in his gaze. You wanted to take him over the edge, to make him feel as good as he had made you feel. With a final, deep movement, you took him fully into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him.

San let out a deep, shuddering groan, his hands tightening in your hair as he came, his release filling your mouth. You swallowed, savoring the taste of him, and continued to move until he was spent.

Slowly, you pulled back, your eyes meeting his. He looked down at you with a mixture of awe and love, his chest rising and falling with deep, ragged breaths. Without giving you timr to register what was happening, he picked you and pinned you underneath him once again. He positioned himself between your legs, his hardness pressing against your entrance. He paused for a moment, his eyes searching yours.

"Are you ready, love?" he asked, his voice husky with desire.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. ‘’Yes, please, I need you.’’

With a groan, he began to enter you slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. The sensation was intense, your body stretching to accommodate his size. He was big, and you could feel every inch of him as he filled you completely. It was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and a slight edge of pain that quickly turned into pure ecstasy.

"God, you're so tight," he murmured, his voice rough. "You feel so good, baby. So perfect."

He started to move, his rhythm steady but rough, each thrust deep and deliberate. The sensation was incredible, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

‘’Fuck" you gasped, your voice filled with need.

"Let me hear you, baby," he groaned, his hips moving faster. "I want to hear every sound you make."

As he found his rhythm, his movements became rougher, more urgent. He thrust deeply, his hips driving into you with a force that made you cry out in pleasure. Each thrust hit a spot deep inside you, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

You moaned loudly, your hands gripping the sheets as he pounded into you. The intensity of his movements, combined with the constant stream of praise and pet names, drove you wild. You screamed his name.

He reached down, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. The added stimulation pushed you over the edge, and you cried out his name as you came, your body shuddering with the force of your orgasm.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Come for me. I want to feel you."

He didn't stop, his thrusts becoming even more relentless as he chased his own release. The sensation of him moving inside you, combined with the aftershocks of your orgasm, was almost too much to bear. But it felt so good, so perfect.

"I need to hear you again," he groaned, his rhythm never faltering. "Come for me again, sweetheart. Let me feel you."

You moaned loudly, your body responding to his words and his touch. The pleasure built quickly, and you felt another orgasm rushing through you. "Sannie, I'm coming," you gasped, your body trembling with the intensity.

"Good girl," he growled, his thrusts becoming even rougher. "I love it when you come for me. You're so beautiful."

You cried out as you came again, the pleasure washing over you in powerful waves. San continued to thrust deeply, his own moans mixing with yours as he pushed you both to the brink.

He pulled out of you and flipped you, positioning you on your hands and knees. He groaned at the sight, his hands gripping your hips as he lined himself up and thrust deeply inside you again.

"God, yes," he moaned, his voice filled with lust. "You look so perfect like this."

He set a punishing rhythm, his hips driving into you with a force that made you cry out in pleasure. One hand was on your hip while the other was on your neck, pushing you towards him as he thrust powerfully. "You're mine," he growled, his voice thick with possession. "All mine."

"Yes, Sannie," you gasped, your body rocking with each thrust. "I'm yours. Always."

He reached around, his fingers finding your clit again and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. The pleasure was overwhelming, and you felt another orgasm building quickly. "San, I'm going to come," you moaned, your voice shaking with need.

"Do it," he commanded, his thrusts becoming even rougher. "Come for me, baby. I need to feel you."

You cried out his name as you came, your body shuddering with the intensity. San groaned loudly, his own release following quickly as he filled you with his warmth.

For a long moment, you both stayed like that, your bodies trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. San slowly pulled out of you, collapsing beside you on the bed and pulling you into his arms.

"You're amazing," he murmured, his voice filled with awe and love. "So beautiful, so perfect."

You smiled, your heart swelling with love and contentment. "I love you, San," you whispered, your voice full of truth.

"I love you too," he replied, his eyes soft with emotion. "More than anything."

He kissed your forehead before slowly getting up from the bed, carefully pulling away from you. "Stay here, my love. I'll be right back," he said softly. You nodded, your body still tingling from the intensity of your lovemaking.

He returned a few moments later with a warm, damp cloth and a bottle of water. He climbed back onto the bed, gently spreading your legs and starting to clean you up. His touch was tender, every movement filled with care and love.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice soft as he wiped you clean.

"I'm a bit sore," you admitted, your voice a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion.

San's eyes filled with concern, and he gently caressed your thigh. "I'm sorry, baby. I'll be gentler next time."

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "Please don't. I like it rough."

He paused, then a slow grin spread across his face. "Oh, you do, do you?" he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "My little baby likes it rough, huh?"

You blushed, feeling a surge of warmth at his playful tone. You slowly nodded.

San chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "Well, I'll keep that in mind for next time," he said, leaning down to kiss you softly. "But I'll still make sure you're taken care of, no matter what."

After he finished cleaning you up, he pulled you into his arms, wrapping the blanket around both of you. He held you close, his hand gently stroking your back in soothing circles. The warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat were incredibly comforting.

"Are you okay?" he asked again, his voice filled with love and concern.

You nodded, feeling completely at ease in his embrace. "Yes, Sannie. I'm more than okay. I'm perfect."

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Good. I want you to always feel perfect with me."

You nestled closer to him, your head resting on his chest. "I do, San. I always have."

love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with happiness.

For a while, you both lay there in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking and the deep connection you shared. San's fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin, his touch soothing and reassuring.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle murmur in the quiet room.

You shook your head, feeling completely content. "Just you," you said, your voice filled with love. "I just need you."

"You have me," he replied, his voice tender. "Always."

He continued to hold you, his presence a comforting anchor as you both began to drift off to sleep. The night had been intense, but the love and care San showed you in the aftermath made everything feel even more special.

As you drifted back to sleep, feeling safe and loved in San's arms, a soft buzzing sound interrupted the serene quiet of the room. San frowned, his protective instincts kicking in as he realized it was your phone on his bedside table. He gently eased out of your embrace, making sure not to wake you, and reached for the phone.

The screen displayed a message from Yeonjun.

[Junnie] Where are you? Who are you with?

San's jaw tightened with anger, but he decided to ignore the message. However, the phone buzzed again, another message from Yeonjun.

[Junnie] I know you're at San's. You're such a whore.

San felt a surge of rage, his blood boiling at the audacity of Yeonjun's words. He couldn't let that slide. Carefully, he unlocked your phone and typed out a response, his fingers flying over the screen with determination.

[You] Yes, she's with me. And she's much better off here than she ever was with you. Don’t ever think of insulting her ever again.  - San

He hit send, feeling a grim satisfaction as the message was delivered. He knew it might escalate things, but he couldn't stand the thought of Yeonjun continuing to harass you, especially after everything you'd been through.

San placed the phone back on the bedside table and glanced at you. You were still sound asleep, your face peaceful and content. He gently kissed your forehead, feeling a wave of tenderness wash over him.

"You're safe with me," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Sliding back into bed, San pulled you into his arms again, wrapping the blanket around both of you. The warmth of your body against his was soothing, calming the anger that still simmered within him. He stroked your hair, his touch gentle and reassuring.

As he lay there, his thoughts kept returning to Yeonjun's messages. The anger flared again briefly, but then he looked at you, peaceful in his arms, and he felt a deep sense of purpose. He would protect you, no matter what.

With that vow in his heart, San closed his eyes, letting the steady rhythm of your breathing lull him into a sense of calm. The events of the night played through his mind, a whirlwind of passion, love, and anger, but ultimately, a sense of rightness settled over him. You were with him, where you belonged, and he would do everything in his power to keep you safe and happy.

As sleep finally began to claim him, San held you close, his protective embrace a silent promise of his unwavering support and love. The future was uncertain, but with you in his arms, he felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. And with that comforting thought, he drifted off to sleep, the warmth of your presence his greatest solace.

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 2

in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')

When Spencer dropped you off at Penelope’s apartment for your first girl’s night—the hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'—you had been ecstatic. You wouldn’t stop rambling to him about how excited you were. 

When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you. 

It’s not his fault, of course—well, not really, anyway. It’s just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencer’s friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said ‘we did hand stuff two weeks ago’, but you had a feeling these women wouldn’t consider that very impressive. 

But you can’t easily relay that information to Spencer—even when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you what’s wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of we’ll talk about it later. 

Later doesn’t come on the sidewalk outside. It doesn’t come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesn’t speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.

“Did you eat?” He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost. 

“Not hungry.”

You both know that wasn’t the question, but he lets it go. 

“Alright... well, I was thinking—“

“Why haven’t we had sex?”

The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems you’ve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question. 

“I… I don’t know. We just haven’t. Does that bother you?”

Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you. 

“Do you just not want to? You aren’t attracted to me like that?”

God, you despise how fragile your voice sounds—how much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldn’t, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet. 

“That’s not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldn’t put words in my mouth.”

“Well, then… say something else,” you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong. 

He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, you’re not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours. 

“You know that’s not how I feel.”

You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms. 

“No. No, I don’t know that.”

Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. It’s impossible to not do the same when he’s standing so close. 

“But I’ve told you. I don’t understand how you couldn’t know how far from the truth that is.”

You think back to two weeks ago—the first and only time he’d ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.

“So why won’t you prove it?”

It’d been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Is that what you need from me? More proof?”

He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe you’ve poked the bear one too many times. But you won’t back down now—not when you think you might actually get what you want. 

So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you don’t miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel. 

“And how do you think I should prove it?”

“I told you what I want,” you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart. 

“Not tonight, honey. Choose something else.”

“Well—that’s not fair,” you stammer, “the whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.”

Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. “I do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.”

“Then I want to do that, too! I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and you do, and I’m already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.” You top off the monologue with an imploring gaze—hoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you. 

He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips part—to no avail for several more seconds as he regards you. 

When the words finally do come, they’re an immense relief of pressure. 

“You’re going to promise me that you’ll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you don’t like something—”

“I promise,” you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger. 

An incredulous smile narrows his eyes. 

“Is this a pinky-promise?”

“It is.” You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies. 

“I left you with Garcia for far too long.”

You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. It’s sweet and smiley until it isn’t—until everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hip—the other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch. 

The pressure of his body against yours builds until you’re forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting he’ll make sure you don’t run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gesture—but you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless.  

It’s too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencer’s never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters.  

“Off?” he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while you’re far from confident, you’ve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes. 

“Pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re… so pretty.”

It seems you’ve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone else—but Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he can’t think of a single one. In an odd way, it’s the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. “Do you know how pretty you are?”

This is one argument you will not be winning—one he’ll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way. 

“Spencer…”

“Don’t Spencer me. I’m asking you a question.”

The words don’t seem nearly as harsh as they really are when they’re delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on you—when he’s so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak. 

“We have… we have differing views on this matter.”

Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear. 

“I thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didn’t learn anything from that?”

“Mm… maybe you just need to remind me.”

“Oh, I think I have to,” he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. “How about this? Can we take this off?”

Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous hum—which is not the enthusiastic yes you’re sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you. 

“What if you don’t like how I look?”

Spencer doesn’t even blink.

“That’s not going to happen.”

How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to. 

“But what if… what if you’ve been with other girls who are more, like—I don’t know, just—better? Prettier?”

“Honey, you’re—” a sigh, a pause as he searches for the words—his eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, they’ve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. “I’m not thinking about anyone else right now. I’m not interested in anyone else right now. I already think you’re perfect, and I’m going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, I’m not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?”

As far as sentiments go, it’s a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencer’s chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him. 

“But what if I’m hideously deformed?”

His eyebrows raise. 

“You’re not.”

“But what if I am?”

“Okay. It seems like you don’t feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just won’t—”

“No!” you protest. “I am ready. I am. But… you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you don’t like what you see so I don't have to wonder.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he says, kissing you, “and the only thing I’m willing to promise is that I’ll think you’re perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.”

A moment of hesitance—but it’s short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important. 

“Take it,” you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra. 

“Thank you.”

You wouldn’t have thought Spencer’s genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say you’re impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him. 

“Well?” you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. “What’s the verdict?”

“You,” Spencer manages after a moment—you literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your body— “are ridiculously beautiful.”

The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked. 

“So… no breakup?”

It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesn’t push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands. 

“You’re gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. We’re going to talk about this.”

“Yeah, but not right now, right?” you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

“Not right now,” he agrees. 

His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. It’s like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. You’re happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.

After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still can’t hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides. 

“Sit down.”

It’s much too gentle to be a command, but you frown. 

“Without you?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. “Just sit. Utilize patience.”

You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticence—you’re just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range. 

“Are you nervous?” Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you don’t reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. “It’s okay if you’re feeling anxious, baby. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

You expel a frustrated huff. 

“I want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.”

He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight. 

“I know you can. But you don’t always have to push yourself so hard.”

“I’m fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?”

“Oh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?” he smiles. 

How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing. 

“Please, do something.” It’s a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until you’re nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs. 

“I’m working on it.”

“It doesn’t look like it.”

“You’re smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and I’m kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?”

Oh, you have a pretty strong inkling—but you’re scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What you’re not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels good—better than you’d have thought. 

“You don’t know?” he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. “No guesses?”

“No guesses,” you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like he’s considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning. 

“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.”

You do as you’re told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time you’d been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you. 

“I’m being honest.” Lie. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”

Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together. 

“I don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.”

“Spencer,” you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles. 

“You don’t like being teased, huh?”

“Please, Spence,” you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at once—and you catalogue that particular plea for later usage. 

“I can’t say no when you ask me like that.”

You push your fingers into his soft hair. 

“I know.”

It was a lucky guess. 

He’s still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you. 

“I’m going to use my mouth this time,” he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. “Is that okay?”

“What if I…”

You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which you’re not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe you’re just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you. 

“You need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. I’d love to do this for you. But it’s your call.”

“Love is a pretty strong word.”

“Sometimes I think not strong enough.”

The way he’s looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe he’s not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. He’s so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this? 

“Okay,” you breathe. “You can—yeah.”

As usual, you’re impressively awkward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what it’s like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself. 

“Do you remember what you promised me?” he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches. 

“Mhm.”

“You’re not gonna break that promise, are you?”

His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply. 

“No.”

Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, “good girl.”

Your stomach flips at the endearment—you squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencer’s hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone. 

“You’ve never called me that before,” you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck. 

“It’s not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell you’ve always been good.”

“Really? How?”

Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places he’d kissed feel cold without him. 

“I just can. You’re thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.”

“It is on you,” you huff. 

You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course he’d love playing with you. That knowledge is why you’re only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again. 

“Is it? You’re only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?”

A stammering nod. 

He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until it’s between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches.  

“Tell me how it feels when I touch you here.”

“Really good,” you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze. 

“Really good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?”

Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until you’re pushing against his hand in search of more friction. 

“Yes please.”

“Then no more questions. I need you to trust me.”

Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sigh—you’d do anything, say anything for him. 

“Okay.”

Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But you’re trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions. 

Things go much quicker once you’re not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until he’s below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadn’t been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencer’s face, obscuring him from your vision, but you don’t think to push it away—your body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadn’t really thought it necessary for your bra to come off—you had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core. 

You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosis—you’re unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon he’s replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it won’t soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apology—but you sincerely doubt he’s actually sorry. 

Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomach—when he reaches your hips, he doesn’t pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like it’s precious. 

This time you don’t need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly. 

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure that’s been building. “Shh, baby. I know. I’m gonna take care of it. You’re being so good for me.”

Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mush—you’re utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest. 

He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clit—everywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least you’re too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But you’re trusting him. 

Thankfully, he delivers. 

The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you weren’t this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in place—you can’t even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. It’s a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, “f-fu—oh,” so whiny and soft it doesn’t even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl. 

There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When you’re by yourself, it’s typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and you’d pretty much given up. But this—this is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently don’t, you wouldn’t want to keep quiet. You want him to know what he’s doing to you. 

So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. You’re new at this, after all—every broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds. 

“Spencer,” you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. “Oh, my—fuck!”

The hand that’s still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one that’s spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second. 

“Wait, wait, Spence—“ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. “Please, just… slow down, or I’m gonna… or it’s gonna be over.”

The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh. 

“It’s over when you say it’s over. You don’t have a refractory period. We don’t have to stop at one.”

“Oh—you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” you stammer. 

“I know I don’t have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.”

Well, shit. 

He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you don’t plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair. 

“I don’t know if I can do more than one,” you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light. 

“How about we start with one and see how it feels?”

Your voice is breathy when you respond, “okay,” already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous. 

The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point you’d been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, you’d beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning. 

Of course he does—pushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and you’re and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than you’ve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongue—he takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and you’re done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesn’t stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one could—although, it’s only your second time, so you don’t exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what he’s doing feels so good you want him even deeper—but you know he won’t give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan. 

Spencer’s lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time you’re face to face again you’re still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost can’t make sense of it. 

Maybe it’s possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection. 

Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, “what? You’re not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?”

“No!” you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. “Not when you… no.”

“Let me kiss you,” he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. “Let me kiss you. Please.”

You whine.

“I don’t wanna… taste… myself.”

Spencer doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Because one day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.”

Something flickers in your core. 

Suddenly you’re not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems he’s going to have his fun, first. 

“Open.” Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to do—you’re all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, you’re obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “What are we gonna do with you?”

That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen. 

“Can you make me come again right now?” you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the idea—and you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.

“I would love to.”

-

part three

[hwallazia]

ANT!FRAGILE – 최산

synopsis . in which you pamper your successful boyfriend after his dream night at coachella.

pairing . choi san & fem!reader

genre . smut (mdni!) fluff at the end, comfort, established relationship, idol!au, and a poor attempt of comedy.

taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle | apply to join my taglist ♡

word count . 3,1k

DISCLAIMER! unprotected sex (wrap before tap!), bath sex, slight degradation? (reader’s referred as “dumb girl” once), dirty talk, softdom!san, sub!reader, dacryphilia?, slight overstimulation, hickeys, size difference, bulge kink, cow girl position, petnames (princess, love, darling & more), teasing, squirt, suggestive language (yn tells wooyoung to kill himself, jokingly! they’re two very friendly friends ;)), coachella san (as a warning itself, yes).

NIC’S NOTES this took way too long for no reason at all (⁠￣⁠ヘ⁠￣⁠;⁠) but here it is! my brain rot of coachella san (ofc with teeth rotting fluff at the end bc i’m the one writing it) also, lowercase is intentional! (again, too lazy to write it properly;;)

you should’ve seen it coming after you found out that your boyfriend, san, would be performing at an event as important as coachella. not that you were complaining though.

you knew how much your boyfriend loves attention, how much it turned him on to hear the fans scream for him, and how the cameras adjust their lens to zoom in on his face or his toned muscles from dancing and moving from side to side. there were constant conversations in which san would ask you “should i wear this?”, “if i unbutton a couple of buttons will i get a reaction from atiny?” of course, you’d tell him dismissively that no matter what he does, he’d always get a reaction from everyone, from you especially.

but taking off his shirt in the middle of a concert? really?

you had already seen him without clothes on the upper part of his body, of course, —and also without clothes down there, but let’s omit details—. the thing here’s that you knew how cautious he was with his clothing, always trying to cover what was most important. but this surprised you, and immensely.

it is, in fact, a sight for sore eyes. but a certain level of jealousy invaded your body; you liked to think that you were the only one with the privilege of seeing his well-worked body. but now millions of people and locals would have photos and videos of your shirtless boyfriend on stage. you definitely couldn’t accept it, even though the entire internet already knows exactly what ateez’s choi san looks like underneath the expensive fabric that covers him at concerts.

you were fully aware that this was his job, and that he was paid for it, but did it really have to be him? why not any other member? maybe seonghwa? or mingi! what about him? he also has a pretty active and... desperate fanbase. it was obvious that more than one fan would pay to get, at least, a glimpse of his abs. so, with so many options, why was your boyfriend the exposed person?

but of course you couldn’t show up in his dressing room with a jealous expression clearly decorating your face, you had to act like the sweet and tender girlfriend you were and put jealousy aside for a moment. your boyfriend had just finished performing on a dream stage for any artist, you couldn’t ruin his night because of a little scene.

you weren’t a jealous or toxic lover; you were a conservative one. you liked knowing that you were special to san and you expected exclusivity from him; consequently, he would receive the same treatment. but you should’ve expected it when you started dating choi san. he’s an idol and that's his job: to cause, in any way, the attention of the fans which, consequently, would keep them afloat or flying through the charts.

but, that was an indelible feature of yours. therefore, in some way, you would make it noticeable.

you hit your knuckles a few times, with moderate intensity, against the modern metallic door decorated by a gold star that highlighted your boyfriend’s band name. you watched as the handle turned slightly and opened the door wide, managing to discover wooyoung with a foaming glass of champagne that found its rest in the palm of her hand. behind his figure, you could see mingi sitting on a noticeably comfortable leather couch next to yunho, both of them clinking their glasses together with a clink; yeosang and seonghwa taking a selfie in the mirror and jongho and hongjoong talking animatedly, perhaps about the upcoming scenarios you thought.

“what the hell are you doing here?” wooyoung said, looking at you confusingly. you narrowed your eyes slightly at his quick lack of courtesy.

“good night to you too, wooyoung. you were incredible out there.” you replied sarcastically, hoping he would finally greet you properly.

“oh thank you so much. but seriously, what are you doing here?” he asked once again.

“what do you mean what am i doing here? i came to congratulate y’all for the show because you totally killed it. all the atiny around me went absolutely feral because of you guys.” you praised, and wooyoung grinned nicely. jongho and hongjoong came up behind him, intrusively joining the conversation.

“well thank you very much, yn.” jongho responded and you gave him your purest smile, truly meaning your words.

“but i also came here to congratulate my boyfriend personally?” you interrogated since his figure wasn’t appearing in your visual field.

“that’s why i was asking! damn, you really don’t listen." wooyoung sentenced, his gaze being comparable to that of a mother scolding her daughter. “as soon as the concert was over, he changed and went to the hotel to see you. he thought you’d be there.”

“but i don’t have a ride home, and my phone died” you explained, doe-eyed as you waited for wooyoung, or any of the boys, to take the hint and quickly take you to the hotel to your boyfriend.

“you could just ask for it, you know?” wooyoung tsked, but finally surrendered to your big, brown eyes with a sigh. “give me two seconds to look for the car keys. i’ll take you there.”

and that’s what he did as fast as lighting since he knew they’d only have that night all for themselves before flying back out to korea. the next day would be full of promotion of their songs to the locals and their stage in coachella, so san wouldn’t be able to even spend a bit of his day with you. 

during the ride to the hotel, wooyoung spoke, “hey just don’t tire him out since we have quite the amount of work to do tomorrow.”

“you know, you could say something like ‘have a nice time together’, ‘take care of him’, ‘call me if you need anything-” before you could continue, he interrupted you briskly. 

“oh hell no. the both of you are responsible adults who know how to take care of themselves without someone else’s help so don’t even try to bother me tonight because i’m exhausted as shit.” he confessed, hands adjusting their position on the steering wheel when cornering.

“oh so now you’re saying i’m a burden?” you asked ironically, knowing wooyoung would catch it was only a joke.

“oh you do know how to think!” he smiled looking away from the road for a bit to lock gazes with you. wrinkles decorated the corner of your eyes as you closed them a little.

“go kill yourself.” you huffed.

“shut up, you love me,” his puckering lips sent a flying kiss to you. he stopped his words briefly, “actually you kind of have to, since i’m taking you with your beloved boyfriend.”

“touché” you agreed. 

the ride to the hotel was quick and calm since you were talking and joking animatedly with wooyoung. and when you least expected it, the car stopped moving. consequently, you turned to look out through your window, yellow lights, and gold decorations hurting your eyes with how beaming they looked, even when it was one in the morning.

“here we are.” wooyoung turned to look at you, his sincere eyes transmitting warmth, “remember what i told you-”

“yeah, i got it mom,” you answered, rolling your eyes vexingly. the man gave you an annoying gaze, so you replied, “what? you’re acting as if you were my mother! chill out, for fuck’s sake. as you said, both of us are responsible adults who know how to take care of ourselves.” you used his own words as a weapon to defend yourself against his exaggerated concern.

“whatever. just go,” he unlocked the car’s door so you could get out of the car once you finished your little conversation. “he’s been a pain in the ass lately because he hasn’t had time to see you.”

“imma get going then,” your hand approached the car door handle and finally opened it and got out of the vehicle. “thank you, woo. i owe you one.”

“you owe me way too many to count ’em” wooyoung wheezed. “but yeah, we’ll add it to the list.” he gave you one final smile, which you reciprocated sweetly.

you finally closed the door and watched wooyoung make his way back to where coachella was taking place, he’d probably go to enjoy the rest of the night’s stages with his members. you genuinely wished for him to do well and arrive with the boys safely, but now you had something more important to do: pamper your successful boyfriend after his dream night at coachella.

after you saw wooyoung getting lost on the dark LA highway, you turned around and ran towards the hotel to get into the elevator and quickly dial the floor of your boyfriend’s room.

once there, before your brain could think about it, your legs moved on their own and guided you recklessly toward the door. you hit your knuckles against it a few times, but there was no response.

“sannie? it’s yn. are you there?” you mutter softly against the door frame. another moment of silence came in response.

remembering your boyfriend had given you the key card, you pulled it out of your coat and faced it against the handle. after a soft peep sounded, you opened the door. just to be greeted with a dim-lighted room.

you wandered around the room, looking carefully at the floor so as not to bump your feet against any furniture or step on any item of clothing that, perhaps in a hurry, had been forgotten on the carpeted floor. you kept repeating your boyfriend’s name until the silence stunned you. the dazzling city lights illuminating what the poor little lamp that rested on the nightstand could not illuminate.

suddenly everything went silent. until you heard, in the back of your head, a faded tune. you quickly recognized the melody and started humming the song, the lyrics of the weeknd’s starboy being the only thing you could think about.

once again, you knocked a few times on the door, this time receiving a response from the other side. a dull “who is it?” was heard. “it’s me, love. yn.” you replied.

“oh, babe! come in!” he said happily, you could imagine the adorable smile drawn on his lips.

you turned the handle gently. and lord, didn’t the scenery you were greeted with turned you on.

your boyfriend’s toned body resting on the bathtub, lavender-scented bubbles covering most of it, his nipples being exposed to the fresh bathroom air that would soon turn into a heavier one, and his arms resting on each side of the tub. a serene, yet excited, expression decorating your boyfriend’s gaze.

“hi, beautiful,” he welcomed you. his eyes becoming crescent moons due to the effect of his beaming smile.

“there they are, those beautiful eyes i love so much,” you mumbled, walking right next to him to caress his left cheek soothingly. “how’re you feeling, champ?”

“alive as fuck,” both of you giggled at his response, your loving gaze locking with his for a moment of comfortable silence. suddenly you felt his hand fondling yours.

“mind joining me here?” his sharp eyes turning darker than they already were as they looked at you. fortunately for your boyfriend, you were willing to give him the moon and the stars that night.

you still can’t explain how you ended up on top of san, the water covering up to your navels, while he moved his thumb masterfully over your clit and his fingers repeatedly entered your cunt. his phalanges stretched you deliciously, causing several moans and moans from you.

“is that the spot, sweetheart? you're shaking so much.” his voice was hoarse and deep as the ocean, causing dizziness to affect your common sense.

“y-yes, don’t stop, please- ahh! ngh...” you could barely answer.

“sorry, love.” he announced before stopping his movements, drawing a annoyed, pathetic whine from your swollen lips. before you could insult him, he spoke first. “’wanna feel your tight cunt cumming around me, pretty.” during his brief pause, a pitiful cry from you was heard. “will you let me?”

“yes!” you answered desperately, “y...yes, i’m all yours, sannie. use me.”

san let out deep groan, which resonated inside your ears and made your heart jump out of your ribcage for a second. you rapidly adjusted yourself so you could reach the height of his crotch and massage his veiny, prominent erection, then align it to your entrance.

“go down slowly, don’t want my pretty girl to break.” he expressed, his soft, low voice driving you insane. still, you looked at him with cocked eyebrows.

“break? hah. surely, coachella drove your ego up to the clouds.” your eyes stabbing daggers into his. his hands found a home on your hips, slightly drawing them down to insert his cock inside you. your hand landing on his bare chest stopping his every move.

“nah. it’s just that you’re kind of fragile after all.”

you knew he was messing with you, provoking you. if there was one thing he always reminded you of, it was how strong, determined, and passionate you were, and it was one of the many features that made him fall deeply in love with you.

“let’s see who’s the fragile one here” you went down without warning on his cock, surprisingly touching your cervix all at once. a moan was snatched from both of you. your shaking body began to move carefully up and down him.

“f-fuck, yn- mm,” you heard a strangled moan from your lover, his lower lip was caught in between his teeth.

“f-fragile? that’s y...your- ah! your shit ass cock.” you manage to respond, notoriously provoking him.

“i don’t think it’s a shit ass cock, beautiful- ngh.” he panted, “just look how full you are.” he held your hand delicately despite the momentary brutality and placed it over your belly, a small lump formed there, “full of me, and my shit ass cock.” san breathed, kissing your collarbone, leaving cute lovebites in it. “you cry and beg for it every single night, hun. what does that have to say about you, hm?” a pitiful whine left your lips, demonstrating san that you were truly incapable of formulating coherent words. you were just too fucked out.

“well, lemme tell you,” he continued. “you’re just a dumb girl who needs to be fucked by a big fucking cock, otherwise, you don’t stop whining.” he said profoundly, his voice stimulating all your senses at once as he absolutely ravished you. “isn’t that right, princess?”

“i- ah! sannie, pleeease.” you blubbered, your eyes shedding the most precious tears.

“i asked you a question, darling. and i expect you to answer.” he sentenced sternly, grabbing your jaw and mushing your cheeks together. a pout was, therefore, formed on your lips.

“yes! yesyesyes, you’re right. i just need and think about being fucked by your big fucking cock-” you acknowledged, immersed and lost in the feeling, feeling like he was fucking you just like the first time.

“you’re such a cutie when you whine for me.” he chuckled while you, on the other hand, couldn’t hold back your screams anymore. his eyes stuck to your bouncing breasts, and your parted lips.

“what happened, princess? is it too much?” he cooed at you, looking at you adoringly, his eyes beaming at the sight of you.

“n-no,” you tried with all your might not to stumble over your words, but it was almost impossible since your thoughts were interrupted by the intrusion of your boyfriend's cock into your tight cunt.

“no? let’s see if it is now,”

your bastard boyfriend directed his hand toward your vagina, his ring finger and middle finger deliciously touched your clit. san watched as you exploded inside, his cock was bringing you closer to an abysmal orgasm that you doubted you could withstand, but you were a masochist, and despite all of this, you continued to go up and down on his cock sloppily.

“san! i’m s-so close- fuck!” your frowned eyebrows, reddened cheeks, swollen lips, and arched back made san float, he couldn’t worship you more than he already did at that moment. he was internally so grateful that you were his. only his to kiss, to hug, to fuck, and to adore.

you had had many guys behind you in the past, and they all promised the same thing: ‘i promise you the moon and the stars’, but absolutely none of them reached the level that choi san reached, who promised and delivered to make you see the stars, the moon and– fuck, he made you see the entire milky way every time you were with him.

“go on, babe. let it out for me, i got you,” he hid his face in the crook of your neck when you slowed down bouncing, and then he lifted it up. his lips brushed your neck, a position which he took advantage of to lick and suck on the side of it, adorning it with some nice and new hickeys next to the ones he did some moments ago.

san did everything he could to give you a good orgasm, a strong one, but pleasant. he loved seeing your expression as you had reached the peak of pleasure, a squirt erupted between your bodies, causing strangled moans to come from both mouths. your walls became tighter, squeezing out every drop of cum held in san’s hard cock. you felt how a strip of that viscous, white essence warmed your insides even more. the feeling even being comfortable in some kind of way.

“see? i didn’t break, idiot. hah,” you huffed out a sigh, looking at that beautiful face that you would never get tired of.

“mhm, you’re always so strong and beautiful. aren’t you, my love?” he reacted breathlessly as he stroked your cheek, as if it were the finest diamond.

“always, and only for you,” you wrinkled your nose as you looked at him foolishly in love.

you turned and felt stupid every time you were around this man, but what could you say? you weren’t complaining at all.

that man was capable of loving you in all your facets, in all your states and moments.

you were also grateful that choi san was yours, and solely yours.

“well, big boy,” you started, settling into his chest with him still inside you, keeping you warm, “i’m very proud of you and your achievements, love. you really brought home the trophy.”

“actually, you came here all by yourself.” he flirted, a cocky smile causing a giggle to ring inside your ribcage. “hm. thank you, princess. but the actual trophy is you and will always be you.”

you hid your face with your hands, splashing a little water unintentionally, “don’t start being all mushy, you softie. i’m gonna cry otherwise,”

he laughed, his voice causing your skin to vibrate lightly. “okay okay. wanna finally wash up?”

“can we just... stay like this? just for a bit,” you closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth your boyfriend provided you.

“of course, princess. whatever you want,” he held you in his arms safely, making you sleepy. two minutes of silence filled with tranquility and love passed, until san started talking, “remember you’re always my trophy.” he muttered lowly with his honey-dripping voice.

“babe,”

“hm?”

“shut up.”

| masterlist

[hannieehaee]

jeonghan being a menace to his gf, pls pls pls I'm on my knees 🛐🛐🛐

18+ / mdi

content: softdom!jeonghan, established relationship, sub reader, jeonghan's a little shit basically, smut, fingering, edging, afab reader, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1346

a/n: thank u sm for requesting this! this is my favorite subject

masterlist

"h-hannie ... please ..."

"shh, angel. it's okay"

"no, please ... please!"

"i said quiet, baby. dont make me repeat myself," he tsk'd at you, continuing the slow movements of his fingers against your clit.

it had now been over an hour since your boyfriend had decided to make your life hell. for someone who got called an angel by the masses, he could be very mean. specially to you.

you had been completely unsuspecting, simply having woken up next to your boyfriend a bit over an hour ago. as soon as you'd woken up, you had felt a mass against you, which you quickly deduced to be your boyfriend pressed up against you. you couldn't help yourself. you knew he'd punish you for it, but you were half-asleep and you weren't thinking right, so you began to grind your ass against him. it was a not really innocent act. you hadn't meant much by it other than to further feel him against you. but jeonghan didn't take it that way.

jeonghan had woken up, the heat of your almost bare lower half grinding against him. in the morning of all times, when he felt the most sensitive. he had felt like you were teasing him, which was strictly not allowed. he was the only one with that privilege in the relationship. you had both acknowledged it to be unfair, but neither of you minded, enjoying what came attached to your dynamic.

he gave you a few minutes to have your fun, drinking in your mewls of pleasure as you felt him harden even more against you. but soon enough he had had his fill, now wanting more. with all his strength, he wrapped his arms around you, halting your movements as he crept closer to your ear, breathing against it before speaking up.

"gonna be bad today, baby? didn't even try to be good at all, huh?," that was when he trapped you, twisting you to his liking and making you face him as he snuck his fingers down, down, oh, right there.

you immediately whined at his actions. he knew exactly how to move and how much pressure to apply to your most sensitive areas. he began by drawing soft circles on your clit, making you hold onto his arm as you begged him to touch you properly.

"i'm touching you properly. are you saying i don't know how to touch you, angel? should i stop?"

"no!," you'd cried. you'd take whatever he gave you, no matter if it was so little.

that's how you ended up in your current predicament. on hour later, in the same spot, with no proper pleasure to show for your worn out state. he had been toying with your sensitive bud for a whole hour, occasionally allowing his fingers inside you before pulling them out right before you reached your end. he took you all the way to the gates of heaven just to pull you back under before you could go all the way up. he was cruel, like that. his other hand occupied itself on your tits, softly rubbing at your nipples as you threw your head back. there was nothing you wanted mote than for him to use his fingers to their full potential; pulling at your nipples with one hand while the other scissored in and out of you. but this was jeonghan you were talking about. he needed to make a torturous show out of it.

"hannie ... please. i'm begging you! wa-want -oh!"

he had finally decided to take some mercy on you, moving his fingers at a speed he hadn't reached since he first started touching you. you wanted to whine and beg for more, but you knew it was dangerous territory. one wrong move and jeonghan would take it all away.

he must have read your mind, as the next thing he said pertained to your sudden silence (sans a few muffled mewls), "what? not gonna make noise for me, angel? nothing for me? what do i get out of playing with this pretty pussy if i can't even hear my angel cry for me?," he was about to stop, just when you went on a limb and grabbed onto his wrist, using all your strength from preventing his fingers from leaving you.

"oh? my baby's gonna be bad? okay, angel. i'll allow it. already misbehaved so much today anyway. you must want it really bad, huh?"

you nodded frantically as his face neared yours, breath against your mouth as he looked down to you.

"god. my gorgeous angel. you're so beautiful. did you know? huh? have any idea what a pretty thing you are?"

he knew his words did nothing but drive you closer to the edge, only making your cries for him louder as you were at the brink of it.

"that's it, angel. cum for me. let me see that pretty face you make- ah! that's the one. so pretty," he mockingly gasped at your orgasmic expression, bringing up his hand from playing with your tit to wipe at a lone tear escaping your eye.

he gave you a few seconds to catch your breath before he began to crawl over you, yanking off your soaked panties as he pulled his own sweats just below his ass. he grabbed his cock, rubbing it a bit before grabbing at the end of it and positioning just against your cunt. then he got even meaner.

with his angry tip, he rubbed his cock against the your swollen clit, drawing light circles on it as you gasped and writhed at the feeling. the filthiness of the act made your eyes roll back, loving the feeling of his hard length rubbing against your abused clit. you had been sensitive for over an hour, only gaining even more sensitivity after the intensely awaited orgasm he had just given you. the feeling of his cock giving you such light stimulation made you throw your head back.

"oh, angel. you're so sensitive for me, aren't you? my beautiful angel. just a simple touch and you're already in the clouds, huh, angel? love how responsive you are."

he must've gotten frustrated a few moments later, deciding to plunge in with no warning. the sudden intrusion made you gasp, digging your hands on his back as he began to fuck you at a fast pace, leaving behind the softness of his previous touches.

"gonna make you cum, okay angel? need you to strangle my dick with that pretty cunt, yeah? gonna fill you up."

he knew there was nothing you loved more than when he came inside you. he was just as addicted to the feeling, but would sometimes go as far as depriving you of it just to tease you. he always put his ability to make you beg for him over his own pleasure. he thrived off of your cries for him.

"hannie! please! come in me. need y-you to! please .."

"it doesn't seem like i'll have an option either way, angel. you're squeezing me too tight. can't even m-move anymore," he panted against you, increasing his pace by the second. he was on the verge, as were you.

only a few moments later and he was filling you up, with your own orgasm following close. once you had caught your breaths, jeonghan finally lowered his face down to yours, kissing softly into your mouth. except it never stopped just there. jeonghan knew how obsessed with kissing him you were, so he always had to pull at all stops. there was nothing he loved more than your cries for him, after all.

he sensually licked into your mouth, instructing you to stick out your tongue for him. his tongue took yours, licking and sucking at it in such a nasty way that had your eyes rolling back. he pulled away soon after, chuckling against your mouth at the way your lips followed after his.

"gotta stop rewarding you for being bad. i'm creating a brat," he knew it wasn't true, but he simply just lived to tease you.

[ssweetreveries]

in for a ride!

✩ san x reader

. 18+ mdni!

. word count! 1.4k

{oneshot, smut, nonidol!san, softdom!san, afab!reader, sub!reader, pet names, vaginal fingering, they’re in public, fluff}

a.n i apologize if there’s any mistakes, this isn’t proof read and english isn’t my first language, please bare with me!! enjoy! ><

synopsis . in which your boyfriend takes you on a date to an amusement park and let’s just say, you’re in for a ride! ;)

A few days ago, your boyfriend heard you talking on the phone with your friend, overhearing something about you wanting to go to an amusement park. And that’s why San decided to surprise you today by taking you on a date. 

In the car, you couldn’t help but fiddle nervously with your fingers and the hem of your sundress. You had no idea where he was taking you, his only directives being to get ready because he was taking you on a date. 

San grabs your fiddling hand in his, he glances at you quickly before re-focusing on the road. “Why are you so nervous, baby?” he asks with a chuckle. 

“I don’t know where we’re going, can you blame me?” you pout at him. 

He squeezes your hand gently, “Well, you’ve got nothing to worry about, you’re gonna love it.” 

You hum and interlock your fingers with his. Your nerves slowly getting replaced by excitement. 

Your head turns to gape at San when he turns into the parking lot to the amusement park. “Sannie?” you say amusedly. 

“Hmm?” he hums with a smile, pulling into a parking spot. Once he stops the engine, he turns to face you. “Like it, princess?”

You nod with a grin, “but, how did you know I’ve been wanting to come here–” 

He simply shrugs. “I’ve got my ways, c’mon now” he says before exiting the vehicle, running to the passenger side to open the door for you. He does this every single time, and you just can’t help but let out a giggle. 

You take his helping hand and step out of the car, looking at the park entrance with stars in your eyes, not noticing San looking at you the exact same way. 

“C’mon, baby, let’s go have fun” he cooes, taking your hand gently in his and pulling you along. 

You smile letting him pull you along with a dumb smile on your face, the place taking you back to your childhood, making you feel like a kid again. 

Upon arriving at the entrance, San pays for both of your wristbands even going out of his way to buy the fast pass, so you guys don’t have to wait in line. When the staff lets you in the park, you immediately turn to San, looking up at him with a big smile. He chuckles, “What’s up, princess” 

You jump in his arms, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, Sannie. For this.” you tell him genuinely. 

He kisses the top of your head, “Of course, – where do you wanna start?” He asks you with a beautiful smile of his own. 

San didn’t want to be controlling but after a couple rides he really started regretting not telling you more specific directives on how to get dressed for today. Don’t get him wrong, you looked absolutely ravishing in your outfit but every time you guys would ride a roller coaster, your little sundress would blow in the wind. And every time, he would put his hand on your thighs and make it his sole mission to hold it down until the ride was over. On the other hand you were oblivious to this, thinking he was just being overly clingy and affectionate. 

“Let’s go do that one!” you exclaim excitedly, pointing at yet another roller coaster. 

“Mmm,” San hums with a frown. 

You look up at him, a frown of your own now decorating your features. “Sannie, what’s wrong?” 

He smiles awkwardly, “Baby, can we do something else? How about we try one of those carnival games?”

You pout, “but why– I wanted to do more rides..”

He pulls you close, bending to your level. “You do realize that all day, you’ve been almost flashing those cute little panties you have on to everyone,” he groans in your ear. 

You pull back from him, a blush coating your cheeks. “W-what?”

“You heard me, princess. Should’ve worn something else, now all I want to do is take you back home.” He purrs.

With pink cheeks, you cross your arms as you look up at him. “How was I supposed to know you were bringing me here!” 

He sighs softly, “I know, sorry, princess. Do you mind doing a ride that will make me worry less about our surroundings, hmm?” 

You nod and think about what you guys could do instead, an idea popping in your head. “How about the spinning apples? Is that okay, Sannie?” you ask him with pretty eyes.

San smiles, “sure, we can do that, princess.” 

You grin, grabbing onto his arm and pulling him with you. 

With your fast passes, you guys didn’t have to wait, being let in on the next round. You hop in first, San standing behind you as you climb in the apple, just in case. 

When you guys are both settled in, the staff passes by everyone and closes the apple’s entrances. San wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. He smiles and drops a quick peck to your lips, the ride starting to spin you guys around shortly after. 

His arm leaves you as you both spin the table, making the ride even more dizzier than it already is. 

“San!” you yelp, the ride pushing you flush against him. “You’re going too fast!” you giggle. 

He mutters a quick ‘sorry’, slowing down the spinning while laughing. One of his arms leaves the table, finding its resting spot on you, massaging your thigh. 

He looks back at you holding on to him with a smile. His other hand leaves the table, cupping your cheek and he leans in to give you another kiss, leaving the ride to spin by itself.  You smile against his mouth, returning the kiss. 

San tilts his head, deepening the kiss and slipping his tongue in. You're taken aback by his neediness, pulling a way with flushed cheeks. 

“Sorry baby, you look so cute in that dress, couldn’t help myself” he says sheepishly, running his hand up and down your thigh, fingers brushing dangerously close to your heat. 

Your breath hitches, “Sannie–” 

“Been wanting to do this all day, baby, will you let me?” he looks at you with those eyes of his that he knows you can’t resist. 

You nod shyly, feeling yourself getting heated.

He smiles, hand cupping your clothed pussy, “You’ll have to give it to me quick, okay princess?” 

You hum, feeling needier by the second. “Y-yeah, please–Ah!” your hand snaps over your mouth as he pushes your panties aside, shoving his fingers into your wet hole without warning. 

He smirks, feeling your wetness, “Fuck, princess, guess I wasn’t the only one who wanted this, hmm?” 

You whine, embarrassedly trying to hold back your moans while he works his fingers inside you. 

“C’mon, baby, don’t be shy.” he purrs, “scream all you want, no one will notice here.” he says, removing your hand covering your mouth. 

“A-ah, fuck– Sannie!” you scream out. 

He was right, all the screaming outside would drown out your moans. You had momentarily forgotten that you were in the ride, San’s fingers distracting you. You gasp, heart pounding at the fact that the ride could stop at any given moment. “I can’t do it, Sannie-!” you whimper. 

He presses his lips to yours, “yes you can, baby” he says against your mouth.  

He presses his thumb on your clit, rubbing it in circular motions all the while still fingering your sweet cunt. 

You moan out at the added stimulation, “f-fuck, Sannie!” 

“Is that better, princess?” he rasps out, feeling himself getting hard from watching your fucked expression. 

“Y-yeah, ah! I'm so close, Sannie–!” you cry out, legs starting to feel weak. 

“Yeah? Give it to me, princess” San increases the speed of his fingers, kissing you deeply while abusing your needy cunt. 

He can feel your tight walls clenching desperately around his fingers as your body begins shaking uncontrollably. You moan into the kiss, gripping San’s arm with your hand as you cum hard all around his slender fingers. 

He continues moving his fingers at a now, slower pace, helping you ride out your high. 

“San, that was crazy,” you breath out, feeling dazed. “I think that’s the fastest I’ve ever came.” you mutter, hiding your face in the palms of your hands. 

San chuckles and pulls his fingers out of you, dropping a kiss to your mouth. “You did so good, princess.” 

As on cue, the ride starts to slow down and you look at him with a panicked expression. “Do I look okay?” you quickly ask. 

San pats your head, fixing your hair a bit, “well, you look like you were in for a ride..” he laughs softly. 

[beomsjoongie]

How ATEEZ Fuck/Kinks

genre: smut

warning: dom!seonghwa, switch!hongjoong, softdom!yunho, softdom!yeosang, harddom!san, harddom!mingi, sub!wooyoung, dom!jongho, praising, spanking, skinship, riding, bondage, pet names, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, corruption,

a/n: this is actually 3 others opinions (my friends)! 1.4k words! not proofread so sorry for mistakes! @holyjongs !!!

Seonghwa:

Seonghwa is very romantic. He would fuck you roughly but his rough thrust would be filled with passion. He would go out of his way to have candles and rose petals sprinkled around. Maybe he would have some body oil to make you heat up a little more. He would feel like fucking you would be his reward. He also loves to fuck you as a reward for the good things you have done recently. He knows you deserve it. He would set the room up before you get home and lay you down and he would fuck you because he doesn’t want you do any more work than you’ve already done. Extra: He also loves to make eye contact while fucking you.

Hongjoong:

Hongjoong is definitely a sensual lover who enjoys intimacy. He’s willing to try anything if it makes you feel good, although he enjoys more of the tamer stuff. Whether its quick sex in the studio or passionate and slow in the comfort of your bed, he'll have it all. definitely a pleasure dom but will also sub for you. (He definitely wont let anybody else see this side of him). Hongjoong definitely prefers to be on bottom; watching you ride him is definitely the hottest thing ever to him. He will grope you everywhere during this and also just during daily life which is by far one of his favorite ways to get you horny. He is in love with praising you during sex. He makes sure you know what a good girl you are and how sweet you are for pleasuring him just the way he likes it. Little extra: he’s also into spanking and loves skinship.

Yunho:

Yunho is very soft when it comes to fucking you. Now, occasionally, if he’s horny enough (and if he misses you a lot) he will fuck your brains out. When you push your hips up to meet his for more. That’s when he finally starts to get rough. He feels the need to please you as if that’s what he was put on this earth to do so. every time yunho touches you its as if its his first. During sex, Yunho likes caressing and peppering kisses wherever he can reach. He worships you in bed and makes you feel like a princess. He tends to hide his face in your neck and babble on about you (when he’s feeling subby) Pet names are a must! He will call you his sweet girl, princess, doll, etc. Like I said, he tends to be soft, BUT, that doesn’t stop him from being into some edgy(ish) stuff like bondage. He likes some kind of lace or blindfold to tie your hands over your head as he takes in the sight of your complex body. Feeling all of you and making you feel every touch with his big and vieny hands. Yunho would definitely show you how to fuck yourself on his cock or how to finger yourself when he’s gone. His hands placed on your hips, making you move yourself up and down because you’re inexperienced.

Yeosang:

Yeosang also is very soft when it comes to fucking you. He’s gentle and more focused on your pleasure more than he is. If you ask him to fuck into you harder, he will. He does anything that you whether he enjoys it or not. Yeosang can also go for as long as you want. Like I said, everything is up to you and he just wants to please you. But back to the gentle part. He loves to take it slow with you and take his time. For example: your first time ever having sex, he took the time to learn your body and know all the things that you like. What makes you break and what makes you tense up from the pleasure. He also made you touch yourself so he can have better understanding of how and where you liked to be touched for future references. Knowing your body is also very important to Yeosang.

San:

San is a rough lover and a rough fucker. He loves to manhandle you and take control in bed. Bending you over and twisting you into multiple different positions. He wants to destroy every part of you and make you remember every second of it. San likes to put you in a headlock while hitting you from the back. His big muscle choking you while he rams into you is definitely gotta be one of his favorite positions. He would also tell you to stay quiet. He would enjoy watching you struggle to keep quiet or to hold in your cum until he cums. He would spank you if you came before you were told to. San also LOVES to worship your body. He likes to compliment you on how good your body looks as you are sweaty and your body is heated up. He marks you up because he’s very possessive and wants to let other men know that you aren’t theirs. Like Yeosang, he wants to know your body. So, he will make you touch yourself in front of him under you cum all of your fingers. After you cum, he’ll come up to you and suck your cum off your fingers. He would praise you for being a good girl and listening to him when he tells you to do something.

Mingi:

Mingi is the best fuck. He would use his expert pelvis movements to fuck into you. Mingi is definitely the type to fuck roughly, but he’s also soft enough ask reassuring questions and give praises whilst doing so. He’s submissive when you want him to be, but if he’s upset he’ll do a complete 360. After your fuck, he loves of aftercare no matter what. He’s definitely open to trying new things so every time is different. He’s a big fan on marking and loves to make sure you know you’re his. One thing about Mingi is that he is not afraid to be loud; moans, whimpers and groans will always be heard coming from him. Mingi, like Yunho, would also teach you how to fuck him. Making you sit on his cock and use your hips to fuck yourself; he would definitely praise you for doing such a good job. Little extra: Mingi would also make you suck his cock until he pulls out and cums on your chest (since you’re not used to swallowing).

Wooyoung:

He’s a cocky and subby when he fucks. He swears that you’re going to break or that you’ll cum first but one clench around him and his face is hid in your neck and his hot cum painting your walls. He would have to force himself to fuck you quicker just to make you cum. He likes to say how nobody could ever fuck you as good as he has (which you won’t agree to because you’re a brat as well. but you’re a more mature brat than Wooyoung). He would want you to ride him when he’s feeling extra subby and needy and he’s being a lazy brat. He would ask for your permission to come before he shoots it into you. He most definitely has a sound kink. He loves being loud and hearing you be loud. All the noises mixing together is what he enjoys the most. He wants to hear how good hes making you feel while also not holding back himself. He’s make sure to kiss you passionately during sex just to be as close as possible to you. He can’t pull away. It’s too hard for him. If not that, he'll bite your neck and leave marks galore all around your body; showing the world what you were up to the previous night.

Jongho:

Jongho’s was hard but harddom!jongho.. hear me out. He’s like San. He’ll punish you for cumming when you’re not supposed to or being a bad girl. Purposely teasing him while he’s at work while end up with you lying on your back in tears as he fucks into your pussy. Him demanding for you to be obedient sub for him. Slapping you gently (or maybe rough) in the face when you don’t do what you’re told. Degrading you and calling you a bad girl for disrupting him and being a needy brat. After making you take his dick for hours (like you wanted) he would give you the best aftercare. Little extra: He’d be in a suit for a performance but after that performance, he’d check his phone to see the pics you sent of your naked. When he gets home, he’d make you ride his fingers, not bothering to take the suit off. He’d degrade you and make you feel embarrassed about sending those pictures. What if his member saw? Or if not riding his fingers.. you’d be down on your knees, squatting on his new and shiny shoe. Desperately looking up at him for his approval and for some reassurance that you’re being a good girl.

[itsbeeble]

Cheerleaders and Stereotypes

SUMMARY: Choi San isn't an idiot. He's also very patient. How long will it take for you to let him admit that he bagged the hottest cheerleader in the world?

GENRE: fluff, angst, smut

PAIRING: Choi San x afab!reader

WC: ~4.7k

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn @flwoie

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: reader is dumb, relationship is actually a little toxic I won't even lie, san tries to make reader jealous and it works, p in v sex, fingering, size kink, SIZE. KINK., softdom!san, big dick!san, um reader struggles to ride san idk, bulge kink, san lowkey mocks the reader a bit, insecurities, arguing, san lowkey is way too patient for reader, idk i think that's it

A/N: h-heyyyyy *chuckles nervously* Everyone say welcome back tumblr user itsbeeble! Everyone say thank you @from-izzy and @sanaxo-o for distracting me while I was writing and to ally for supporting me through a very very very very long writers block hahahahhahahhahhahha....haha...ha

Choi San, despite popular belief, was not an idiot. Not really at least. Unfortunately for him, he seemed to fit most of the stereotypes of a college athlete.

He was fit, that was without a doubt and he would not deny it. Six days a week in the gym after football practice did him good. Toned arms that hardly fit any of his shirts, the fabric stretching and nearly tearing every time he got dressed. Thick thighs that bulged against every pair of jeans or sweatpants, noticeable from the stands on game day and having girls swooning as he walked. Not to mention his ass. Had he not built up a brick wall called “confidence” the comments made about his ass would have had him blushing and covering his cheeks rather than smirking. 

God, that smirk. He flashed it casually to anyone who looked at him— students, professors, the crowd, the opposing team, the cheerleaders. It was a near unfortunate bonus that he was just as hot as he was fit. That stupid chiselled jaw, the dimples, and his tall frame. It’s irritating. 

At least, it’s irritating for you. 

See, being the supposedly stupid captain of the football team came with many stereotypes. 

Dating the captain of the cheerleading squad was just one more, even if no one knew. 

No one important, that is.

“Sannie,” Yewon was practically hanging off San’s arm, her manicured nails lightly scratching the tan skin. The sing-song tone of her voice made you cringe, the noise scraping at your eardrums and creating a dull throb in your already aching skull. Your back was turned to the pair, but San could tell you were likely trying to grow eyes in the back of your skull to watch the interaction. That stupid, casual smirk of his was trained on the newer cheerleader, her eyes big and filled with faux innocence. “How did you get so big?”

A poorly stifled snort from another girl on the squad, Sihyeon. A good friend of yours who knows exactly what goes on between you and San behind closed doors, and knows exactly what he’s planning. That little snort has you turning the daggers you call eyes onto her, the girls around her shifting uncomfortably at the now tense energy around you. 

Jealousy. That’s what San’s goal is and you know it. He’s pulled this trick several times before, trying to egg you on and expose the relationship that you’d chosen to hide. So he’d play stupid, that same act that everyone believes is a poor reality. The dumb, hot captain of the football team who can’t seem to get a girlfriend despite the girls falling at his feet for a moment of his attention. All he wants is for you to finally get jealous enough to rip that girl off his arm and finally stake your claim publicly. 

Unfortunately, you’re patient. 

Fortunately, so is he.

He smirks down at her, his arm grazing the skin of her lower back that her top doesn’t cover. You can practically hear her breathing stutter, and your grip on your pom poms tightens.

“Never skip a day at the gym, never skip practice, throw a good party on the weekends.” His answer is…lackluster at best. Your nose wrinkles, knowing he did it on purpose. The idiotic responses are for you, in hopes that you’ll turn around and yell at him for pretending to be a moron even though he’s one of the best students in the Kinesiology department. 

“You’ll have to coach me through a workout one day,” Yewon grabs San’s arm tighter when she sees you turn to face the pair. 

“Maybe I should take you up on that.” San isn’t looking at her, not even a brief glance down to acknowledge that she’s there. No, his eyes are trained on you. Daring you to say something, anything. 

Do it.

You know you want to.

Stake the claim.

You know I’m yours. Why not let everyone else know?

You open your mouth to speak, and he quirks an eyebrow at you. Do it, do it, do it.

“Kim Yewon,” the words are laced with venom and she goes rigid. “Break ended ten minutes ago.”

“I was talking to Sannie!” She glared at you, and you almost laughed. 

“Sannie,” you mocked, watching a pout form on your boyfriend’s lips, “has his own practice to get to.”

“Our practice ended half an hour ago.” He argued, toeing the limits of how far he can push you before you finally break. 

“Then leave.” 

“I don’t want to. I wanna stay and talk with Yewon.” He challenged. Sihyeon grimaces behind you, watching as San digs himself a grave not even he can climb out of. 

The two of you stare each other down for a few moments, a mix of emotions running through you. You know that he’s challenging you and trying to get a rise out of you, but you know better. You know you can’t challenge him like that without exposing your relationship— the one thing in your life that you want to keep to yourself for just a little while longer. 

You’re the first to cave, your shoulders slumping just enough to be noticed by San, and his eyebrows knit together. 

“Do what you want. Practice is done for the day.”

The two-story rental house you share with Sihyeon and a few other girls from the squad is eerily silent. The air conditioning and the sound of you quietly walking around your room are the only things keeping you from the thoughts in your head. 

Did San take Yewon up on the ‘offer’?

Did you take it too far?

Should you have just caved for him?

What if he’s sick of this? Of the secret meet-ups and the acting?

Something hits the window as you’re walking past it, and a loud squeak escapes you. You whip your head around just as, what you now realize is, a rock hits the window. Not a large rock. Small, just enough to be noticeable and visible to the naked eye as it tumbles back down to the front lawn. Another rock as you take the two steps you need in order to peer down and see San with a pile of rocks on the ground next to him, a fourth in his hand ready to be thrown if needed. He grins when he sees you, tossing the rock up and down a couple of times before taking aim.

You fling your window open, scowling down at him before he winds his hand back. 

“Don’t you fucking dare, Choi San.” He pouts up at you, but all you do is glare. 

“How else was I supposed to get your attention?”

“Ring the doorbell, dumbass. Like a normal person.” 

Much to your annoyance, San just grins and drops the rock. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You lean against the window frame, arms folded as you run your tongue over your lip in thought. “Shouldn’t you be with Yewon?” 

You can see San’s nose wrinkle at the thought, but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he makes his way to the tree he’d been using as a sort of ladder to get into your room. He’d been doing that since you met, since the first time you ever slept together. He’d never been a fan of the whole…front door tactic. Your father would probably hate him. He’d think San was no good, a troublemaker if anything. You would disagree. 

Maybe your relationship was more stereotypical than you were willing to believe. 

San’s shoes are louder than either of you had expected as he jumps down from the tree, grimacing at the noise he makes.

“If my neighbors didn’t know any better, the police would’ve been here by now.” You shuffle back as your boyfriend tucks awkwardly through your window. His large frame pushes against the frame, the vinyl creaking against him as it struggles to stay in one piece. His neck cranes to look up at you, his feet hitting the ground with another loud thump.

“Glad they know better then.” He pushes a hand through his hair, the silky black strands falling loosely over his forehead in spite of his best efforts. 

A moment of silence falls between you, and you take this time to sit at your dresser. Makeup wipes and cleansers are scattered in front of you from when you’d made a weak attempt at distracting yourself from, well, the problem you’d created. 

San sits on your bed behind you, watching every move you make. He sits quietly, like a child in a timeout chair. He waits, letting you make the calls. You never knew why he started doing that— started letting you take the lead in every argument, even the petty nonsensical ones.

“You never answered my question,” your eyes are trained on him through the mirror. He presses his lips together, loosely folding his legs.

“Are you really that upset?” The question is innocent enough, but it brings back the previous irritation from the field. 

“Why wouldn’t I be? My boyfriend is openly flirting with other people knowing that I’ll get pissed off. You flaunt that knowledge like it’s your fucking birthright or whatever. Do you really think I’m not gonna get upset about it?” You put your moisteurizer down with more force than you’d wanted to, shaking your dresser a bit. San flinches at the sudden noise, gnawing at his lip in thought. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Are you, though?” Your eyes are narrowed as you turn around in your chair. A momentary pause as San lets the words sink in. He’s patient. So patient with you, even when you feel you don’t deserve it. “You act like you don’t give two shits about our relationship, and then show up at my fucking window acting like nothing is wrong and that the world is all sunshine and fucking rainbows. You go out of your way to piss me off, make me angry at my own squad, just for what? So you can get a good fuck at the end of the day?” 

Sometimes you forget that, while Choi San is patient, that patience runs thin. 

He isn’t stupid. He knows that this outburst, this frustration, isn’t just at him, but the more you spit your venom at him, taking your anger and misdirecting it, the more his patience begins to run out. You can see it in the clenching of his fists, the ticking of his jaw, and the glare in his eyes. 

Unfortunately, you’re far too lost in your mind that you can’t see the way San rises from his seat on your bed and takes a step toward you. Then another, and another, and suddenly he’s right in front of you. 

“Sometimes I think that the idiotic front that you put on isn’t exactly a front at all—” You spin around, expecting him to still be on your bed. A loud yelp escapes you when you come face-to-face with his well-built frame. “Jesus Christ, San! Why the fuck are you right behi—”

“Shut up,” he says it so simply, so calmly that you almost think he’s not being serious. 

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do!” You snarl, and San scoffs. 

“Do you even realize why we’re in this situation to begin with?”

“Yeah, you were flirting with my fucking—”

“Don’t blame me for your fucking problems,” San spits out. Your eyes widen and you take a step back. “I’ve been going along with this stupid fucking secret relationship for who knows how long, and all I’ve gotten in return is you bitching about me wanting you to just come out with it!” 

“You know I want to keep—”

“You want to keep your love life private,” San interrupts and flings his hands into the air. “I get it. I understand, Y/N. That doesn’t make it suck any less.” 

“It isn’t just—” you huff, pressing your hand to your forehead in a poor attempt at calming yourself down. “It isn’t just the fact that I want to keep us private, Sannie. I just— I don’t—” 

Your eyes are welling up with tears, and you blink a few times to force them back. San pulls you toward him, his hand practically engulfing yours as he tugs you onto his lap. Your legs are on either side of his, and he laces his fingers with yours, resting them between the two of you. 

“I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong, sweetheart.” He murmurs, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Let me help you.”

You shake your head, and his chest rises and falls with a quiet sigh. “I’m just— I’m just so sick of— of everything.” 

San presses a little kiss to your forehead, tugging one of his hands free from yours and lacing it through the strand of hair on the back of your head. He doesn’t move for a few moments, placing another kiss on your forehead and then another. He waits for you to calm yourself and gather your thoughts. 

“Can—” your voice is quieter, a bit more shaky than it was just moments ago. “Can you kiss me?” San smiles, his lips still just millimeters from your forehead.

“Tell me what’s wrong first.” Your hips shift against his, and you drop your head against the column of his neck. Your breath is warm against his skin, and the scent of your shampoo begins to flood his senses. His hand tugs at your hair, drawing your attention back to him. “You’re absolutely insatiable, you know that? Tell me what’s wrong or I’m leaving.”

You can’t fight the little whine that’s pulled out of you. Not that you wanted to. You wanted him. You wanted Choi San so badly that it hurt.

“I was— I was mad because I didn’t want…” You can hardly form a sentence, too distracted by the gentle tugs at your hair and the way San’s other hand has drifted to your hip, drawing circles underneath the fabric of your sleep shorts. 

“What didn’t you want, sweetheart? Tell me.” San pulls your head away from his neck, holding back a grin at the near-glazed look in your eyes. 

“I didn’t want to be part of anymore…stereotypes. We already fit so many, I just—I just wanted to hold that one back for a bit longer.” You whine, your lips falling into a pout that San just wants to kiss away. Instead, he smiles. 

“Was that so hard, pretty girl? So much fighting just for a silly little reason like that?” Your pout deepens, and he sighs. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah…”

“And nothing is gonna change that, no matter how many stereotypes we fall under. You understand?”

“Yes,” San smiles, stroking your hip and squeezing it.

“‘Yes’ what, baby?” Your eyes are glossy now, your lips parted slightly in your daze.

“Yes sir.”

Despite San’s patience running thin, he always recovers it with ease. Patience is what he’s known for in class, on the field, in your relationship, and in your bedroom. 

He can edge you for hours, cooing at the way you beg for him, beg for that sweet release, for just one more finger, please just one more.

“Pretty girl,” he strokes your cheek, letting his hand slide down your spine to rest against the small of your back. You’re writhing beneath him, trying desperately to bring your hips up just enough for him to hit that sweet spot inside of you but failing miserably. “I don’t think you can handle anymore.” 

Only two of his fingers sit inside you, but it’s more than enough to stretch you out, to provide you with the stimulation you need to go right over the edge—

“San—sir, please.” Your hands grip the pillow beneath your head tightly, nails digging into the fabric so tight you’re afraid it might tear. “Pl—Please lemme cum, I prom—promise I’ll b—be good. Please,” You’re nearly hysterical, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as he plunges his fingers in and out of you, his thumb dancing over your clit but not quite giving you that extra stimulation. Not that you need it with the way he grinds the tips of his fingers into the spongy spot just within his reach. 

“You wanna cum that bad?” San leans down, his chest pressed against your back and his lips right up against your ear. “You’re gonna have to work harder than that. Beg for it. Scream. I want everyone to know that you’re mine.” 

Patience is a virtue you haven’t quite learned yet. What you have learned? You’re extraordinarily good at making Choi San cave for you. 

“Sir,” you plead, pushing your hips back against his hand just enough. There’s a burning feeling in your stomach, the knot winding tighter and tighter until you almost can’t take it. “Please. I’m so so—sorry for yelling. Please I’ve been so good for you. I can take it. Please let me take it. Want you s—so bad. Want you to ma—make me cum. Want you, Sannie! Please, please make me cum. Want you to fuck me so bad, ple—please!” 

For a moment, San’s hand stills inside you. For a moment all you can hear is your desperate whining and your boyfriend attempting to steady his breathing. 

Then he’s ripping his fingers out of your sopping cunt and rolling you onto your back. His frame looms over you in a way that has your body quivering with anticipation, eyes searching yours for…something that you can’t figure out in your lust-filled haze. 

“Such a pretty girl,” San murmurs, pressing his palm at the base of your stomach, one hand nearly covering the expanse of it. “So small, so good for me. So good for Sannie, hm?”

“Yes!” You grab his wrist, nails digging so tightly you’re afraid you might draw blood. “Please, wanna be so good for you Sannie!” 

He sighs, prying your hand away from his wrist and pinning it to the mattress. “You say that, but I don’t know if I believe you.” 

A sob pushes out of you, your back arching into him. He catches you before you can lower back down to the bed, his arm looping around you to keep you pressed against his chest while he sits back. You’re right where you started— on the bed, straddling him with tears running down your cheeks— but this time you’re both completely undressed. You can feel his cock pressing against your thigh, little twitches being the only indication of any impatience. You try to roll your hips against him, trying anything to get that friction back. San clicks his tongue and shakes his head. 

“Naughty girl,” he murmurs, stilling your hips with one hand. “Thought you said you’d be good for me.”

“I—I will!” You grab his shoulders, leaning your face up to his, trying desperately to kiss him— to do anything that might sway his decision. “I’m sorry, sir! I promise I just— I just wanted—”

“I know,” he kisses you gently, smiling softly, deceptively. “I know you just wanted to cum all over your Sannie’s lap. Been edgin’ you for so long, haven’t I? You deserve to cum for being so…patient.” You let out a relieved sob as San releases your hip and grabs his cock. He guides it through your folds briefly, soaking it in your arousal and pumping his hand up and down his shaft to thoroughly lubricate it. “You’re gonna prove to me that you can be good, baby. Okay?”

“Yes, yes Sannie!” You lift your hips just enough for him to align his tip with your entrance, almost starting to cry again at the feeling. He helps you sink, knowing that two fingers weren’t enough for you. It never is. No matter how much he fucks you, it’s always a tight fit for you, not that you ever complain. You never complain about how big San is compared to you. He’s caught you drooling over this size of his dick more times than he can count, usually trying to talk you out of riding him out of fear of hurting you. But not today. No, today he’s giving you exactly what you wanted. 

“Go ahead, sweetheart.” He encourages. “Fuck yourself dumb on Sannie’s cock.”

The look in your eyes becomes almost animalistic. You shift your body a bit, steadying your hands on his shoulders, and lift your hips until just his tip remains inside of you. San can feel the way you’re clenching around his tip, knows you’re doing it intentionally, and he lets his head fall back. 

When you sink intohim for the first time, you emit a strangled gasp, your eyes rolling into the back of your head and your nails digging into your lover’s shoulders.

“F—Fuck Sannie!” You bite down on your lip, lifting your hips again and dropping back down. “Mmph—fuck you’re too big!”

“You wanted this, sweetheart,” San tells you, rolling his head to the side and groaning as you continue to struggle with riding him. You try so, so hard to build a steady rhythm, but your legs are shaking and your breath is already gone. “I thought cheerleaders were supposed to have good stamina.”

“No—Not when their boyfriend has a f—fucking huge dick!” You cry out, giving up and grinding your hips against his. The steady rolling of your hips relieves the burn just a bit, and you moan as the tip of his cock grinds into that spot with more strength than his fingers did just minutes ago. “Fuck, I can fe—feel you in my stomach!” 

San lifts his head at that, a new hunger in his eyes and he leans you back. You slow your hips at the sudden movement, furrowing your brows while you watch him. He kisses his teeth and places a firm slap on the side of your hip. 

“I didn’t tell you to stop, did I?” He grips your hip tightly in both hands, forcing you to keep riding him. “Keep going, sweetheart. Keep going until I tell you to stop.” 

You do, your hips picking up a steady pace with the help of one of his hands to guide you along. His other hand presses against your stomach, and you hear his breathing hitch.

“Baby,” he takes your hand from his shoulder, squeezing it gently as he guides it to where his hand was previously. “Feel right here.” 

You hesitate just a moment, and he looks down at you, smiling encouragingly. 

Then you feel it. 

The bulge in your stomach where the tip of his cock reaches as far as it can possibly go. 

“You feel that, baby?” San presses your hand down and you both let out a simultaneous moan at the feeling. The white-hot pleasure builds back up in the pit of your stomach, the loosened knot returning with renewed fervor and you know San can tell. You know that he’s close too, his hips thrusting up to meet yours halfway. “God, you feel so good. How did I get so fucking lucky, huh?”

You don’t respond. You can’t respond. The pleasure is blinding. All you can feel, see, hear, and smell is San. He clouds your thoughts, your senses, your very being. The pleasure is winding up, drawing that knot tighter and tighter and tighter—

“C—Cumming, San!” You arch into him, and he holds your hip to keep you moving. “Fuck, fuck I’m cumming!”

“I know, pretty girl,” he grunts, his thrusts stuttering. “Fuck, I’m close. Keep going baby, wanna cum with you.”

Your hips are moving slower, your muscles burning and you can’t stop yourself from forcing San back until he’s laying against the bed. Your hands find purchase on his chest, sweat beading on your forehead with the effort to keep moving, to keep riding him until you’re both forced over the edge you’d been begging for. 

San’s thumb drifts across your hip, finding purchase on your swollen clit and rubbing sloppy circles into it until you’re sobbing again, sobbing his name and begging for that sweet release. 

When it hits you, it’s blinding. Stars spark behind your eyes, your head tossed back and sweet cries pulled from the depths of your chest. His hips thrust into yours one more time, his eyes trained on how you arch your back and twitch with your release, and then he’s cumming. Thick globs of cum fill you up to the brim, seeping out from the seams of your cunt and mixing with your release. You let yourself collapse against his chest, practically gasping for air and shaking from the effort of riding him.

“You finally got what you wanted,” San murmurs, resting one of his hands on the small of your back as his cock softens in you. “You finally got to ride me.”

“Never…never doing that again,” you mutter back, placing a kiss on the base of his neck. “Absolutely…not.”

“I can’t believe you’re actually letting this happen.” San is grinning ear to ear as he drives you to campus, his free hand holding yours tightly. You purse your lips, refusing to admit defeat.

“This doesn’t mean I want everyone knowing—”

“Bullshit,” San interrupts with a grin. “You want everyone to know that I bagged the hottest cheerleader in the world.”

“You didn’t bag shit, Choi San. And if you say that you ‘bagged’ me to anyone on the football team,” your eyes turn to daggers as you jab a finger into his shoulder, “I will end your bloodline where it stands. Your mom can say ‘bye’ to any chances of a grandchild from us.”

San grimaces, but it’s replaced by a radiant smile as he pulls into the parking garage closest to your building. “You can make as many threats as you want, sweetheart, but you and I both know you won’t risk that. You love getting fucked after dealing with Yewon every day.” 

He opens your door for you, beaming as he helps you out of his car. 

“I’ll make you a deal, sweetheart.”

“Will you now?” Your response is sarcastic but San ignores it.

“You let me show you off as much as I want, and I bitch out Yewon today.”

You don’t even have to think about your response, a grin replacing your scowl.

“That sounds like a damn good deal, Choi San.”

“Sannie!” 

Yewon’s grating voice has never sounded so fucking heavenly in your ears, knowing exactly what’s going to happen next. San is already at your side, rifling through your bag for the extra granola bar he knows you have. He grimaces at the sound, his eyes almost begging you to help him, but you shake your head.

“You dug your own grave, Sannie.” A quick pat on his shoulder and his fate is decided for him.

“Yewon,” he greets the girl, continuing to rifle through the bag. “Can I help you?” 

The disinterest in his voice didn’t deter her, not that anyone was surprised. The cheer squad watched the younger, newer, dumber member as she stumbled through her flirtations, complimenting him on things he didn’t need nor want to be complimented on while searching for a fucking granola bar. 

“Yewon,” San finally interrupts the girl, rising with the snack in his hand and glaring down at her. “I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m not interested.” 

The shock on her face made you smile. Maybe it was cruel. Maybe it was a bitch named Karma. Or, maybe, you were sick of the shitty stereotypes that you always seemed to fall victim to. 

“But you—you always—”

“I was trying to make my girlfriend jealous of me, as shitty as that is,” San pinches the bridge of his nose and scoffs. “But I’ve already got myself a cheerleader, Kim Yewon. And she’s the best girlfriend I could ever ask for. Plus, she’s hot as fuck,” San grins at you, but you can only roll your eyes.

“I said no—”

“You said I couldn’t tell people I bagged you,” it takes him three steps to reach your side and grab your chin. “Not that I couldn’t call you the hottest cheerleader in the world. No offense, Sihyeon.”

“None taken,” your best friend waves her hand dismissively. “I’m just glad you two finally got your heads out of your asses.” 

“Shut up, Sihyeon.” You scowl, but San is quick to bend down, hunching at the shoulders to reach your height and kiss you firmly on the mouth. It’s a searing kiss, more than he said he would do in front of the squad, but you let him have his moment. 

You’d made him wait long enough.

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[strawberryya]

Santa baby

pairing: choi san x fem!reader

synopsis: Christmas is coming around, and you decide a new outfit is in its right place - for you and your boyfriend of course. Will he like the holiday themed outfits you have picked out enough to give you a couple needed gifts in return?

word count: 3.4k

genre/cw: SMUT, cosplaying Santa for devious purposes, idol au, establish relationship, softdom!san, sub!reader, a slight voice kink, use of sextoy, unprotected sex, cockwarming, oral sex - both recieving, borderline cumplay, soft aftercare.

rating: 18+

a/n: surpise @millennial-fangirl! I'm your cod secret Santa! I'm so sorry this took forever to finally post, but I hope you like it nonetheless!!

network tagging: @cultofdionysusnet @svthub @k-labels @kvanity-main

How would San react to the slutty reindeer outfit? Would he think the tail was cute? You imagine the look on his face as he opens the Christmas present you are trying to pick out. Usually, he would be the one deciding what you would dress up as. This year you want to try something new, you want to surprise him with a sexy new outfit. For him. 

When you see the sexy Santa outfit hanging neatly on one of the rows of the toyshop, you can’t help yourself. It was so perfect. Tiny red briefs in velour, black gloves, and a matching belt… you figured that the belt had other purposes than holding up the nonexistent pants. You want to see San in the skimpy outfit. You need to see how it would fit snuggly around his large cock, and experience the feeling of the leather gloves when they meet your plush skin. 

You are getting too excited just thinking about it, and Christmas Eve is still a whole week away. Pulling yourself out of your thoughts you take a set of the skimpy outfit for San and continue browsing. 

Maybe you should get something for yourself as well? You debated it for a bit, looking at all the different seasonal and general costumes. You had quite a few at home already, with San loving to dress you up you had tried on quite a few over the years. When you spot the matching Mrs Santa Claus set you realize what needs to be done. 

After all, he needs something pretty to look at too. This was his present after all. You could hear his seductive voice as if he stood right beside you, “Such a pretty whore, all dolled up for me on Christmas Eve.”

You imagine his smirk as he sees what you have planned for him. Your stomach flutters with anticipation at the thought. He likes to be dominant just as much as you love being his submissive, but sometimes you want to be the one taking the initiative, the one to take control. Picking out the sluttiest Christmas outfits for the two of you as a Christmas gift felt like the perfect opportunity for you to do so. You get to choose what and how it is going to be done. At least, that’s what you have in mind right now. 

Before leaving the store with your new costumes, you ask for a good recommendation from the staff for your third surprise for San. A vibrator, just a small little thing that you could use as a helping hand to make him feel as good as possible. You don’t use toys on him very often, but why not? They always make you feel good. You decide to try it out this once. 

The gifts are wrapped in red and gold when Christmas Eve comes around. After a week of thinking daily about how to go about giving him the gifts with the best result, you decide to put on your own outfit and hide it under your pajamas until the right moment. 

San had not had the day off. The life of an idol could not be put off even on holidays such as this. You watch his performance on your TV as it airs, fixing your boobs in the lacy bra one last time before covering up with your Christmas pajama shirt. There was a matching velvet choker, but wearing it could ruin the entire surprise, so you decide to hold off on putting it on until later. The show was a holiday-themed special, San was acting even cuter than normal, fitting right in with his group members as they danced and pranced across the stage in their snowman outfits and reindeer headbands. It is adorable, you can’t deny that. 

San has some serious talent when it comes to hiding his dominant streak. The cute cheek pokes and eye smiles almost convince you that he isn’t the same man who had ordered you to choke on his cock just a couple of nights ago. You had gladly done so of course, but it is sometimes hard to believe they are the same person.

The door slammed shut, making you almost jump out of the couch where you were sitting while waiting for San to arrive. He seems agitated as he drops his bag on the floor. He falls onto the couch the moment he sees you sitting there looking pretty and soft in your red and white checkered pajamas. His head buries itself in your thighs, making your cunt clench a bit, but innocently enough for you to chuckle it off as you begin patting his head. “What’s wrong Sannie?” 

“Too much cuteness, can’t do it anymore. So, so tired.”

He groans into your thighs after looking over to the TV and noticing that you are watching his performance. “Please, turn that off, I really cannot look at that anymore.” 

You chuckle but shut off the TV. “Rough day then, huh?

“Very. But I am free now~,” he says, suddenly sounding a bit more cheerful, his sharp eyes looking at you instead. Arms folding to hold his head up, his biceps balancing on your thighs. He looks so charming, you think. Leftover makeup is still sparkling on his cheeks and in the corners of his eyes. You wipe his cheek gently, “I have an early Christmas present for you. Maybe that will cheer you up and get you in the holiday spirits?” 

San gives you a pleased smile in return, pulling you down with a gentle hand to kiss you softly. He tastes like chocolate chip cookies. It made you not want to pull away, but the thought of finally seeing his reaction to his gifts finally won over the pleasure of feeling his lips on yours. 

You run to fetch the box from under the tree that you had decorated together a couple of weeks ago. The shiny red and gold paper is glistening in your hands when you excitedly hand it over to San. You position yourself next to his legs on the soft carpet, looking up at him with so much hope in your expression. He’s sitting up now, the sweats he had worn when getting off work showing off his dick-print, it feels a bit like he is teasing you even though he doesn’t know it. 

“What is it?” San asks, eyebrows curiously knitting as he picks up the rather light package he had seen under the tree for a couple of days now. 

“You can’t ask me that! Just open it!” 

He doesn’t waste any time ripping the paper open after that, the red and white fabric soon appearing to the both of you. San picks up the gloves, the briefs, the hat, and the collar. There is nothing more to the outfit, it’s honestly even less fabric than what you have on underneath your pajamas… You watched his face turn from a small smile into a dark smirk. 

“Are these for me, baby?” 

You nod, meeting his piercing gaze. Heat spread across your skin when San stood up without a word, throwing off his shirt, picking up the tiny Santa collar, and putting it on without much effort. He had practiced putting variations of these on your neck for years, and it wasn’t much harder adorning his own neck with one. 

His proportions always stunned you, and seeing him so causally pulling his pants down to reveal his large bulge sitting prettily in his boxers made your mouth water. His body is seductive, that was the only way to put it. The small red and white briefs are quickly pulled on, and you can’t help but be a bit sad that he was putting on more clothes right now, even though you loved seeing him try on his Christmas present just as you had planned. 

“Will you hand me those, love?” Obediently you hand over the black gloves and the hat he pointed toward, earning a “Good girl,” from San. The way his voice isn’t hiding the smirk behind those words is making your walls clench around nothing. He is a vision when he stands towering above you, your eyes flickering over the details of his body. Gloves snuggly hugging his hands, arms veiny just like the pretty part right above the edge of the snug briefs. He has gotten so big during the last couple of years, his broad shoulders make you want to throw your arms around him, inviting him to do whatever he pleases tonight. 

“You like what you see, don’t you?”

“Very much, San, I like it a lot,” you agree, gaze still wandering between the different parts of his body. 

He scoffed, “Don’t you think you’re enjoying yourself a bit too much? Have you been a good enough whore this year to act this shamelessly? And you know very well that it’s Sir.” 

You suck in a breath. His stern, but teasing tone made your heart beat faster. Not to mention the way his gloved hand has begun fondling his clothed cock. 

“I have been a very good whore, Sir.” 

“Oh, really?” San flirts, a smirk growing wide on his lips when you begin unbuttoning your shirt. You look down, intimidated by the way he watched you, embarrassed about having planned this entire thing out as a Christmas gift. When the red fabric covering your breast begins to show he bends down to your level on the floor, a leather-gloved hand lifting your chin, forcing you to look at him while you pull the rest of your pajama shirt off. 

“Be a good girl and keep your eyes on me, won’t you?”

You do as he wishes. Your breath is shallow as you let him inspect your figure, still kneeling on the floor in front of him. Your tits are barely being held back by the red lace. You wait until San nods with approval at your new lingerie. He sits back down on the couch, your gaze catching the way his bulge has grown even more. 

“Are you all dolled up for me, baby?” He asks, not expecting any answer. “Will you show me the rest of your outfit now?”

You were reminded of the collar you had hidden in your pocket, pulling it out and handing it over to San submissively. “Could you help me put it on, Sir?” 

With a swift hand, San helps you snap the collar in place. The golden bells that adorn it ring prettily as you run your fingers over it. His touch lingered on your neck, the warmth of his hand chasing chills right down to where the heat had begun pooling between your legs. Without a word, you stand up. Carefully pushing down your pants to reveal the last piece of your outfit. The lace is already sticking to your wet lips. It’s a lewd sight, the fabric covering almost nothing, your bra making your tits look like they were about to burst the tiny thing open at the seams, and the collar ringing softly as your breath moved your chest.

”Like it?” 

“Of course I like it. You have indeed been a good little whore this year,” San responds, his eyes meeting yours with hunger. “Come here, pretty girl.”

You straddled him without hesitation, needy for his touch. San’s hands quickly find your curves, gently caressing you with familiarity and need. His erection presses deliciously against your cunt, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. 

You kiss down his body, eager to please him with your mouth when you remember that you have almost forgotten about the third gift. “Wait! I have one more thing,” you mumble, getting yourself off from your confused (and horny) boyfriend. When you returned with yet another gift in your hands San doesn’t hesitate for a second to rip it open to see what could be more important than an orgasm right now. The tiny red vibrator that he unwrapped was a good answer to his questions. 

“For you?” he asks. 

“No, for you.”

San’s eyes widen when you take the vibrator from him. You had made sure it was ready for use right away. Proud to have prepared so thoroughly, you giggle a bit as you start kissing up his thigh, knees firmly planted on the carpet again, hands fondling San’s erection. It’s fun challenging San’s authority in this way. His hard cock smacks up against his abdomen when you pull down the fabric covering him. He groans above you as you lick along his needy shaft. You let your saliva drip down, sucking gently on his reddened tip. One of your hands works at the base of his erection, and the other fiddles carefully with the vibrator. A slow buzzing sound melts together with San’s pretty sounds as you press it against his hip, slowly dragging it toward his hardness. You hollowed your cheeks, letting the vibrations of the toy go through his hardness, softly at first. 

He jerks up into your mouth, his body fighting to regain control over the situation. With a firm grip, he pushes your head down further on his needy cock. He’s lost in the chase of his own high, the way you are gagging around him only taking him closer to the edge. Your pussy clenches uncontrollably, even when he isn’t ordering you around with words. His actions always manage to give him the upper hand in these situations. He cums down your throat with a series of moans, so pretty you almost begin detesting the vibrator for giving off any sound at all that distracts your ears from hearing him. You let him fuck your throat until he pulls you off of him, teary-eyed and heaving for air. 

“So good for me, fuck-” he gasps out. He looks down at you, hands desperately clinging to his thighs, your nipples having been pushed up above the edge of your tiny bra, hardened and suckable. Cum is dripping from the corner of your mouth, he reaches up a gloved hand, wiping it up only to order you to open your mouth once again. You lick the tiny amount of spilled cum from the black leather. 

You are becoming needy. As much as you love pleasing him, you crave his touch too. Will he grant your wish if you simply ask? It was always a gamble, whether or not he would continue to play with you or please you like you needed. 

He was always careful not to move too fast, loving to tease you and play with you until you were ready to take him inside of you. But after preparing for the surprise and wearing the sexy lingerie while lounging around, and then seeing just how quickly San had slipped into the usual dynamic between the two of you, you felt like you could take him with ease. 

To be completely honest, you are more than convinced that you can take him. Your cunt aches for him. 

“If you don’t stop wiggling your ass like that I might think that you’re already ready for me to get a taste of that sweet pussy,” San smirks as he watches your thighs squeeze together in search of some relief. 

“I’m ready for you, Santa baby.”

“That’s cute,” he scoffs, “You seem like an eager little whore today.”

He gives you a look of mischief. An expression you love seeing, since it tells you that he has made his plans for what to do with you next.

“Can you lay down for me, pretty girl?”

You rise from the floor and position yourself next to San, your pussy available for him to use as he sees fit. The black leather gloves he still wears touch down on your soft thighs, helping you spread your legs for San to see just how wet you have gotten. With a swift finger, he pulls your red panties aside, watching as your folds spread beautifully. Slick and glistening. 

He hums, “Such a sweet pussy you have, baby. I just can’t get enough…” 

You gasp as he dives in for a taste, finally giving you something to help satisfy your urges. His tongue swipes at your pussy lips, lips kissing your clit, eyes closed, and his moans reveal just how much he’s enjoying himself as he eats you out. 

A warm feeling spreads throughout your body when he sucks on your clit as a finger or two begin slipping into you and curling against your sensitive spot. He has a talent for making you cum fast, and hard. You are grinding up against his face when your first orgasm washes over you. 

He works you through it, kisses against your inner thighs and a calming touch making sure you ride it out until you are panting and begging him for another. 

San’s eyes shine at the pleading sounds. “My very own little whore, so desperate for cock.”

“Please… just one more!” 

“I need to give you something back for this wonderful Christmas present, don’t I? A couple more orgasms sound like a good idea to me,” he says as he pulls you up by your arms, and with your assistance, you are now straddling him as he kisses you. He doesn’t taste like chocolate chip cookies anymore, now he tastes of you. It makes you feel dizzy. 

You slip onto his hard erection, taking him in with a moan. He helps you start bouncing on his lap, the bells around your neck ringing softly as he stretches you out. The gloves aid him in holding a steady grip around your hips and thighs as he lifts you as much as he can while simultaneously watching your pussy coating his cock in your slick. His muscles become even more defined with each curl. You can’t take your eyes away from him. You whimper that you are close, and in response, San reaches down to pick up the tiny vibrator that lies next to him on the couch. 

He presses the toy against your clit, your walls contracting around his length at the sensation. You are coming undone within seconds, but he doesn’t remove the vibrations, overstimulating you until you are squirming on his lap. Nails clawing at his bare, sweaty shoulders, and walls squeezing him uncontrollably. 

You didn’t mean to come a second time, but when you go silent, and your entire body tenses against him San knows that he has succeeded in returning the favor. He cums inside of you, filling you up, eager to see it run out of you. He would’ve eaten it out of you, but you are already spent. Next time, he decides. 

With a soft hand, he removes the toy from you, a gentle touch soothing your clit while you whimper at how sensitive he has gotten you. He lets you calm down, his cock softening inside of your warmth, just how you like it. It makes you feel close to him when he lets you feel him like that. 

“I’ll go get some towels, could you stay right here for me baby?” he says, soft voice feeling like a warm blanket around your exhausted mind. You nod and slide off of him, missing his warmth the moment his arms let you go. He comes back with damp towels and water, making sure you’re cleaned up completely, and that you drink the entire glass of water before he finally forces you on your feet so you can go to the bathroom. He has taken the Santa outfit off, instead, he’s dressed in the nice grey sweats from before and a simple t-shirt. He dresses you in your softest pajamas and gives you new underwear. He patts your hair while he snuggles up next to you in your shared bed. The lights from the Christmas tree shine their warm light all the way to the bedroom. You let San take care of you completely, falling asleep in his warm embrace after having begged him for at least ten kisses. 

“Thank you, that was a really nice present, baby.”

You smiled a drowsy smile, “I’m gonna have to think up something for New Year’s now because I wanna do this again…”

“Maybe I could be the one to surprise you, I have some ideas already,” San said and pulled you even closer, fingers running softly across your back. 

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

[chokchokk]

𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 | park seonghwa x fem!reader x choi san

part one of gangster!mafia!series "𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞-𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐞"

“Brother, can’t you see I’m doing this for you? Enjoy yourself.”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : Picking your own poison, if poison was given to you in form of bankrolls by venomous men with high demands.

In which Park Seonghwa had a plan and Choi San has ideas.

“Sounds like you’re enjoying her more than anything."

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : noir, smut, angst | korean mafia/geondal!au | ceo/jaebeol!au

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 18.2k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : entitled rich people, workplace harassment, alcoholism, softdom ceo!seonghwa (headman park), half-drunk satoori-using dom mafiaboss!san (mr. choi), both are called by their names at some point, sub-leaning bratty switch servant!femreader, use of (pet-)names (missy, baby, princess), groping, thigh-riding, light choking, light hair-pulling, non-penetrative sex, voyeur!seonghwa, sex in the elevator, counts as mirror sex right, biting kink, manhandling!san, edging, breeding, cum-eating (m), cunnilingus; reader hates the rich except for when they are sexy, implied but not severe age gap, writer does not have daddy kink but mafiaboss!san does, gunshots and death, use of korean proverbs

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : this with the next part will be the origin story for reader, specifically the series synopsis’ first half :) originally, this has been a request, so please read this, if you desire to have a bit more insight to what the series actually is + translations of certain terms (mostly character dynamics) in this chapter !!

tl;dr: since it's all based around korean mafia/gangster/etc, there will be korean culture scattered between the lines. it is all translated, hopefully in an understandable way!!! (please hmu if there are difficulties) i let out honorifics/romanisation, except for "chaebol" since it's an actual word :) that being said, reader's ethnicity is not specified and won't be relevant to the series in any way !! 

smut comes after the second border, and uh,,, i had to shorten that shit (pls dont ask me where) but uh. you’re getting 8k words of smut so buckle up LMAO !!! i hope you enjoy as much as i did writing it !!! thank you for likes, reblogs and feedback xoxo (also this is NOT beta-read so pls dont hesitate to tell me about... like.... errors, tags and shit)

[ now playing : money ▸ pink floyd | listen to the playlist ]

It's getting repetitive. They are drinking their ninth bottle of expensive whiskey, smoking their third or fourth disgustingly pricey cigar— what the fuck, is this seriously what the upper men of your nation are doing at some stupid chairman’s dinner party?

“Missy!”

“Me, sir?”

No wonder the economy's fucking shit.

“Yeah, you, missy, give that gent over there one of our divine Denmarks!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Give him a kiss too, while you’re at it! What do you think? He’s still got it, no?”

Said ‘gent’, some old, scummy clown— winks at you, his gray eyelashes fluttering towards your direction.

“Yes, sir."

God, how bad you wish you had snuck your phone in to take a picture of these red, drunken, senseless faces, but you're a dutiful servant, abiding by the rules at all times, however difficult it may be. You’re holding in your puke professionally, not even doing something as to grit your teeth, just softly letting your jaw play along to your friendly smile.

“Does your willy even still work that way, old friend?", a cranky, yet humorous voice pitches in.

Agreeing to your supervisor’s offer to earn “big money” may have been a bad idea, but a good choice. Jongho said he’d seen you at your work, took special note of you— even though you weren’t sure where exactly he had observed you, since it’s only been a month of actually working as a servant in the lower tiers of the building— and wanted to give you a chance to swim with the big sharks. “I think you’re best suited for the job,” is what he said to make you giggle and think about your initial rejection of his proposition, “you have a talent for serving.”

Something you didn’t know you had, something you didn’t know someone would see in you ever in your life, “talent.” Sure, maybe you let yourself be persuaded a bit too fast, but it felt very touching that somebody saw you and saw potential, for whatever occasion it may be for. You don’t necessarily want to screw the rules of the hierarchical pyramid or what it was that kept you from being in the proximity of the chairman, but you really need the extra cash right now.

"What does a girl from the mountains look for in being a servant in the city?", had been the question you were asked by Lady Kim who gave you the leftovers of her restaurant at the end of the day, when you had just started with the training– poor, barely standing on your own feet. 

You remember how you explained to her that the buddhist monks who raised and send you here surrounded themselves with wells to remind everyone that water always returned, and you assumed it would work the same with wealth. You also remember how hard she tried to stay kind to you, showing you her sincerest sympathy by telling you that "the chaebol are no joke!" (at least not a joke, an innocent girl like you could laugh about, she later explained) and giving you an extra portion of her home-made dumplings to suit you up.

Her sharp, yet compassionate voice rings in your ears, as you reapply your red lipstick on the way to your target guest. Oh, Lady Kim, what a graceful woman– she put her all into her work for her restaurant to succeed, but had always made a place to share what she had for those who needed it. Such a lovable woman, she must have been well-liked by all around her.

You get it now, the way you had been so naive back then. Floating on the philosophical happy-go-lucky psyche of the city’s promise of prosperity, trying to live the Korean dream strangely enough as someone who was so sarcastically out of touch with it. If you had been in her position, you wouldn’t have been able to be as nice, no, would have warned yourself with a finger pointed upwards as if you were teaching a little kid about strangers, or how your monks said, ‘tigers in the woods’.

“After that cigar, his dick will turn to dust!”

Maybe things would have looked different, if you hadn’t taken that fund from the school’s superintendent, who slid you that card on your table with a smirk on his face. Oh dear, do you remember how excited you had been? You ran through the streets in your worn-out shoes with that plastic sheet in your hand, on your way to tell that the money on it was such a ridiculously high number that you could split— but Lady Kim had got to know it first, the ridiculousness of the rich, with the demolition of her restaurant-building.

“He’s got no cum in his nutsacks ‘no more anyway!”

No warning, no compensation, just everything crushed to pieces to make place for the big corporations; the fancy neon-signs she'd invested in, the ambition of her enthusiastic dreams, your only source of tender charity, shattered to a wreck. You have never seen her since, and can only laugh about how the fancy food of the chaebol—and you definitely know who they are now, those tasteless men gawking at you in the moment—doesn’t even look half as good as her low-cost black bean noodles you could more than afford now. 

The present day-you is less dreamy, but just as lost, forced to work off a debt you hadn’t been informed about when you lived off the favorable “fund”-money. No, Lady Kim, this is all a joke, you would tell her today. A really fucking bad one.

So, making room for another ha-ha in your life, you pulled your eyes up innocently, returning Jongho’s specious smiles. “Is it illegal to collect pocket-money from the rich?” It’s not like you had any doubts at that point, but 'they'll buy you out of prison if you’re good enough' was all you needed anyway to put your uniform on tightly at home.

"Can't even shoot his cum in missy to save his blood!"

Your more experienced co-workers are watching you work with a condescending frown, feeling both jealous you're getting all the men's attention, but also maliciously delighted you're being challenged as the new-coming servant who's obviously of erotic interest to these richlings. They want you to get a "taste of life" for you may be the most goody-goody fawning bitch they have ever seen; just a young birdbrain who has nothing to bring to the table except her body. Young thing won’t hold up, doesn't know who she's working with— though they are quite right about that part, you must admit, you frankly didn’t look up whose money you’re taking right now— she doesn’t know who the fuck she is.

"What? Did his son leave the company, too?"

It’s flattering to know that the other pretty servants look at you and only see some candy-coated muppet, but fairly, your ever-frozen smile on your face doesn’t give them much to work with. You’re simply an annoyance to their routine, and if you could, you would like to comfort them by saying none of the money you’re getting will stay in your hands– they’d be so happy to hear that you’re really worth nothing– but you must stay focused.

“Idiot, he’s only got a daughter!”

So yes, that being said, you’re glad nobody ever asks you about you. Everyone just assumes, judges from what they see, and if what they see is an opportunistic bimbo-girl chasing money, then so be it, right?

"You know, the one he married off to the governor?”

Right. Because you too have not a single second to think nor talk about your past. The present is scarce and the future is fragile, you know it the best. And you owe it to your old men to make the best out of their efforts, don't you? The air in this room may not be the one you inhaled in the mountains, but you still have to use it, breathe, be alive, despite how moldy and spoiled it simmers in your throat.

"Real mad! Anything to avoid that fee, huh, missy? Got no semen and no glory! You really want to give him that cigar?”

So, that taste of life? Fucking bitter, just like how that name 'missy' seeps and sweats on your tongue. You can’t loathe your co-workers for this reason, they're basically in the same wooden, shaky boat as you, but these asswipes here are floating on a fucking yacht. Of course they don't follow some type of code of human decency for you, they don't give two shits about the lowlifes, the poor. They watch them like a spectacle, and because they don't regard you as a human-being but rather a toy, they play with you on strings that are, on the other hand, binding together a big, fat bankroll.

Ka-Ching.

Eyes on the price, Y/N, eyes on the price. You may not own a lot, that's been more than established, but if there is something you have, it's dutifulness, commitment, and proficiency. It will remain difficult to keep inner peace and honor with a job of which "duty" it is to be a deferential, subservient doll, but at least you're alive and well, soon to leave this floor with more money to your name that these fuckers don't know anyway, right? Never let that smile drop, smart girl. You have a talent, just like your supervisor said. Just keep on serving.

“No children-makin' is better for the cheatin'— ha!”, the barren, that fruitless man who’s been made fun of whoops in to stand up for himself, and awaits his tobacco that's being driven to him by your cart.

You open up the wooden chest in which the cheroots, so unnecessarily gold-plated, sit and ridicule you with their rare existence. There are just thousands of dollars sitting in your hand right now, and as you fetch the thick roll with wary fingers, you think, fucking hell, this could feed so many people, and they're just smoking it away like it's nothing, assholes.

The other servants frown at you spitefully during the time you bow down. You're sensually placing the brown cylindrical object into his mouth, a match lighting held to his face to light it up. In addition to the experience, you hold one long stare with his washy eyes, because you assume it will ignite him.

And, oh, how excited he gets.

"Thank you, sir," you chuckle and flutter with your eyelashes, pursing up your lips like you’re an innocent little girl getting a piece of candy behind her parents’ back.

“Just mad! Missy's young enough to be your grandchild, fella!”

You’re aware of exactly what your dear co-workers are thinking, but being ordered to light their cigs and then ogled at is not "baby-treatment” or whatever they’re muttering under their breath, it's your subtle strategy to have that bankroll be slid between your thighs.

"Hey now, I still can get it on! Don't you think so too, missy?"

Dumb Y/N, only has money on her mind. Allows herself to be called "missy", like a dumb fucking slut. 

Hm, kind of has a ring to it, don't you think?

"Yes, sir."

Let them all think you're a dummy. Let them believe, believe each other's words in whatever they fucking want. You're almost too certain it's the secret reason Jongho offered you a place here anyway; "suited for the job", because he deems you dense enough to not understand any of the nonsense these twelve men are babbling, "big money", because he knows you will do anything for it. 

You’ll still take the talent, but if he really thinks the rest, then oh, sucks to be him.

Yes, you haven’t looked up the names of who the men here are for the same reasons they're not using yours, but the second you’re out of this whiny, weak testosterone-drowned room, you're going to write the most thorough blackmail, because you can not listen to their cheating, money-laundering, corrupted bullshit anymore. Getting involved with the handshakers is the last thing you should do if you want to live a silent, carefree life, and you know this too well, but they're not going to believe it was you anyway. They wouldn’t dream of their missy to do such a competent, smart thing. You even know what you're going to write under the letter so they have something to think about in their cells: 'birds listen to the words of day, mice to the words at night'— walls have ears, too.

Ah, the soft, sometimes very cryptic voice of your favorite old monk. Always there to teach you new things, remind you of how to live your life cheerfully. You still believe he would have rather kept you in the mountains and not drop you on a wild voyage into the unknown urban life, but your old man had his reincarnation coming. You should visit his grave again, it's been a while, hasn't it? Wouldn't he be so proud to see you? To see how much his little Y/N has grown and learnt, using his proverbs to restore justice? Well, for what you still can collect of your late mentor, he would probably make big eyes and use his whole body to keep your monetary gift away from him. "Teacher," you would ask, "don't you at least want to save?", and his answer would remain the same;

"Peace comes free."

You feel warm at the distant memory of the bald-headed man warming himself in his orange gown, teaching you about love, harmony and kindness, but that sweet veil of untainted innocence has long dropped from your eyes.

In front of you, you see tycoons continuing having a blast being their shitty selves, and as golden teeth blend your sight, they are entertaining each other by staring at your legs that are covered by your sheer black stockings, whispering their insight of how you'd look like under it, but the mini-skirt only leaves so much for imagination.

"Sweet missy!"

How could you not want to spit into their face? They have bought the war. They have bought the chaos. And why? Just because they can. It doesn't cost you anything to restore some peace, maybe that’s the thing your old man got right.

"Yes, sir?”

“Do you have any Cubans left, sweet missy?”

“A Cuban, coming right up, sir.”

“Hopefully someone’s gonna come after the party tonight!”

Are you humiliated? As someone who lived among the wisest, clearest heads, and was considered just as smart by them to be wished a ‘more fortunate life’ — No.

You couldn’t care less about their perversions. Especially now, when they seemingly don’t care enough to know your name you've introduced yourself with. You are here for one reason, and it's not to prove your worth to the world, it's to secure your place in it, get that parasitic debt off your shoulders.

And if anything, as long you are staying truthful to yourself, there’s nothing that could take away your spirit. That’s what you want to believe, at least. When you’re out of debt and continue with this job, you could spend every day downtown like the other servants, but for you, it's all going to the savings for the family you're going to feed with not one worry in life on the clear land in the mountains, not under a sky that's polluted by light even when the sun has set.

The clock has announced night long time ago. Outside the windows, there shines and roams a loud, restless city under a starless, foggy black blanket, inhabited by people like you who live day by day to make their living, like small flies forgathered in a hive of exhausting labor, buzzing their life away.

It’s what you think every time you peek down the glass room: Seoul has never looked so small. Across and around the ever-flowing Han-River, the metropole is the home of millions who are looking up with their heads far back their necks to the point right here, where you stand, at the center or peak of all the wealth gathered together, inside the highest building standing tall amidst of the tumult, on the 114th floor, towering over the world in a luxurious dining room decorated by exotic animals, marbled statues and most importantly the filthy glimmer of something they call ‘class’.

“Missy,” the chairman calls out for you, raising his hand, right after he’s made another infidelity joke and showed his luxurious wedding ring to the audience.

“Yes, sir?”, you call out, wearing your pristine servant-smile with your hands folded nicely in front of your stomach, voice not tainted by your disgust as to even one note, despite the other servants looking at you with hateful expressions. They wish you the worst; the worst treatment, the worst performance, anything to get you out of this place. 

Maybe they're driven by the same instincts and avarice that makes you hate the rich,  with them just thinking you're taking away their money, but it's free territory here with these predators; you just make for great prey.

It’s a challenge to all of the people involved and the contestants can only win. Will it be another pick-up line? You're going to pick on that with ease. Another joke about your age? That one is never going to get old. There, bring it on, you think, and feel proud of your confident spirit, ready to run with whatever they throw and stash it into your wallet.

“You see those youngsters back there? Get 'em some more ice."

“Yes, sir.”

“Chaps don't know how to drink the good stuff yet, what a waste! Next time, buy 'em the cheap soju from the mart! The ones for 5,000 Won, missy, you know those?”

“Yes, sir.” Your whole face flashes a smile, bowing to accept the task of refilling some ice, dragging your cart across the room, as male laughter rings in your ears. It's as if they don't realize they also drink cheap liquor, but you suppose that's forgettable when they are flushing the fanciest of meats down with it.

"Be careful, missy!"

Are you being too mild by saying you want to ram the green glass-bottles into their heads?

"They bite!”

Maybe choke them with their own money bills?

Yes, “Yes, sir.”

It's a fun exercise to fantasize about how to hurt them, so you thought you would be busy enough to ignore the chairman's warning, but as you are on your long way to the end of the even longer glass table to push your cart towards the men he is referring to, there's a growing feeling inside your guts that oh, the chairman may be ... 

Huh, right for the first time. The quizzical lump expands warmly as much as it is cold, with goosebumps running down your spine, your hands feeling hotter than ever over the metal cart. Your whole body is trying to signal you that something is off on the other side of the table, but you don’t know whether to ignore it or run.

The annoying, empty-minded, impertinent elders, who have been belly-laughing at the chairman's joke a second ago stop with their chatting and only exhale huffs, and prolong them nervously, that’s off. The servants gulping, loosening their crossed arms– that’s off, too. 

“So, uhh… Where was the, uh– food from?”

“Oh, lad, good topic, yes– the delicious food…”

It seems that everyone in the room is trying to fill in the silence with the fakest of laughter, so the chairman can move on from the topic, but you're well over your way there, uninformed to what you're going to be hit with once you halt.

Tycoons like them usually don't need back-checking. You know how to deal with ill-willed imbeciles that only use their estate as a weapon. Their bodies and brains have passed prime an eternity ago. Left behind are only their numbed minds that seek shelter in lust, ecstasy and aphrodisia because nothing else excites them anymore. They’re what you probably would have been if you hadn’t spent your teens brewing tea and listening to the leaves rustle, not experiencing all euphoria and more at a too early age– they’re washed out, just swimming in money they haven't worked a day for, are lazy, weary sloths.

However, opposed to the cloudiness in their class that's only getting more foggier through the many years of monopoly, these two men that are waiting in front of you, and you understand why your lungs are pinging now, they are potent.

Money is power, but twist it around and there is them, with that; a certain force that the rich ooze out by just acting and looking a certain way, and oh, Y/N, how they are, how they are looking at you right now, best believe you have to hold onto your strength like it's a small purse.

'Youngsters', he said— 'they bite', he said.

They have been rarely reacting to the chairman’s words, notwithstanding being the ones to be the most respectful in this meeting for their young age, just looking at each other with unamused eyes. Even the director who is older than the chairman lets out his best holler every time, but these two have not laughed once at his jokes, not the slightest chuckle has left their mouths to flatter or satisfy the chairman.

Interesting.

Both black-haired, the one you get to first has his mane gelled back, a cigarette hanging out his scarred mouth, as you approach his seat with your cart walking carefully practiced steps. His white shirt is opened up to where chains, most importantly a silver cross, hang from his collarbones to his chest that’s covered with scars and scratches you can’t quite identify how they got there. This man looks gigantic, muscular, dangerous. Shoulders terrifyingly broad popping out his black vest, he sits on his seat with widened legs, thighs flattened in his also black pants, fastened by a leather belt, and with his white sleeves pulled back to his elbows, his slightly tanned forearms only appear more huge after the rather average-looking wristwatch catches your eye, just when you stop with your cart in front of him.

“That old geezer just can’t keep his mouth shut, can he?”, he chuckles, the Gyeongsang-provincial dialect rolling so naturally off his tongue. Everyone else in the room has been faking their speech to cosplay a charm they didn’t possess, but even the slight lisp and lull from the drunkenness are not hiding how deeply masculine and sincere this man’s voice sounds. It’s a mixture of the sarcasm you've gotten used to by now, but also a brashness that the older men lack, and you’re a bit embarrassed to say it’s working you up a bit. "Empty carts rattle loudest, I say."

A wintry breeze goes through your breast and you feel your eyebrows flinch. You haven't heard that grandmotherly expression in so long, that it does feel somehow refreshing to reconcile with it, but maybe the whisk you sense shouldn’t feel as comforting given the way the man is looking up to you brazenly with a bit of atrocity in his appearance. He is far away from the serene sketch you drew to save the vision as you left the village, he is what you felt when you took your first train, asphyxiated by the big masses of people who you would never see again— an unhomely, yet intimate feeling of... adventure.

He glances through you smoking his cigarette with no hands attached, and it moves at the corner of his lip as he talks. Wait, cigarette? Missy, did you forget to bring him a cigar?

"Let's see when he runs out of words."

“It’s alright, sir,” you answer, suppressing a slight chuckle because yes, you too have been wishing the chairman would finally shut the fuck up, but haven't expected anyone to say it out loud that boldly. You watch the male in front of you take out the slim roll from his mouth with his thick fingers that are covered with silver rings that all look different and not matching each other, blowing out the smoke whilst maintaining eye contact with you. “If you require, I can bring you a cigar, sir," you say, but he waves his hand to brush off your offer.

“Ah, they give me bad breath.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Please," the man progresses instantaneously, scratching over the vertical scar at his lip-corner with his thumb, his ciggy continues to burn, "Do be so kind and give brother his ice," then smiles, "he needs to preserve his cold head.”

“You are one to talk about keeping mouths shut,” the ‘brother’ answers, voice velvety and adequate despite dissing the man that’s sunken unmannerly into his seat, while he, on the other hand, is sitting up straight, his black suit buttoned up, tie set cleanly under his ironed pearl-white collars, elegantly decorated by a golden pin. A Greek "π" is chiseled into it, and you recognize it so well for you’ve seen it written all over the tall buildings you drove by on your way here. His hair is combed evenly to the sides and the more you look at him, he’s just— wow, flawless, prestigious, expensive. Everything about him is crystal clear; his rich voice, his unblemished skin, his eyes, oh god, you just noticed those eyes, how does such a shameful man have such pure eyes?

Orbs— and they're not innocent as much as you can't say they're not guilty— are looking at you with a defiance that is suffocating, as if you ought to do everything perfectly, not miss a single twitch of his eyebrows to understand whether he's enjoying or disapproving of the situation.

Well, is he enjoying you or disapproving of the way you're listening to his partner's order to refill his ice?

Huh. No fucking idea. He probably doesn't, but you must do it still— must still serve.

It feels irrationally sheep-headed, but hey, being a sheep is your job, is it not? Being in this herd is keeping you alive, and even in this situation, where you are following the orders of the blackest of sheep, no, wolves that can't be covered by any fluffy wool— you must mow your best.

"Ohh, brother, it's been a while since I heard you talk! Feels lonely droppin' all the good sayings by myself."

You’re serving Choi San and CEO of PARA-conglomerate, headman Park Seonghwa.

Sat right across the chairman, the percentage this couple holds of his company-share is more than most of the attending seniors combined, which makes them stand at the top of the guest-list. You couldn’t have missed their names, even if you’ve made the attempt to, and the other information you’re getting is just your co-workers whispering hurried words to each other, and it seems to you that you may be more in need of them than ever.

You already eavesdropped on them a little, and to be honest, you didn’t need any real confirmation that everyone in this room was unlawful and corrupt, but it is good to know you really don’t have to feel guilty stashing those bankrolls into your purse.

The man that is licking the tail of his scar at his lip, rolling his neck, clicking with his mouth and tapping his fingers onto the table, he is rumored to be the boss of the Choi-Clan, the infamous ‘Mad Dog of Namhae’, whose face had been unknown. The chairman has made a drunken joke about allegedly trying to sell him off to the government— “everybody act like you don’t know, okay?”— and nobody had taken him seriously, but once the supposed mafiaboss had entered the room, an hour later than everyone else, and sat down comfortably like nothing was strange about his heavy breath and slightly purple knuckles, nobody dared to say something else.

If you’d heard beforehand that you would be meeting a CEO and a mafiaboss today, you don’t know if you would have acted any differently. Thinking, here comes the chairman, his jesters, the mafia-guy, the chaebol; ah, all the motherfuckers aligned, let’s get to work, shall we? 

But this does challenge you a bit, indeed. If they just weren’t so young and intimidatingly good-looking, fuck, you could have treated them in the same cookie-cutter way you’d been at perfectly.

Maybe a bit of change-up won’t hurt, you were starting to get a bit too irritated anyway.

"Control yourself."

“You wanna see him dead too, brother,” the smoking male sneers— you’ll call him ‘Mr. Choi’ for now— pointing at his companion to accuse him of being a yawner, his cigarette stuck between his fingers.

Headman Park smirks with a short twitch of his lips that makes you think you just imagined it, but none of his extremities has moved since you came here: Every single action he takes seems so... calculated, thought through, measured, planned out. He is the only one to have brought a briefcase to the dinner, and looks a little bit out of place with his sober expressions which seem to you as if he was observing the whole room in its possible entirety, not leaving out a corner in his sight uncovered.

"Want," he parrots, face dropped to a neutral visage, highlighting the only word that seems to be bothering the CEO regarding his vis-à-vis' statement, eyes darting down  to Mr. Choi having his fingertips pointed towards him.

"Don't you become pushy with the words now, brother," the mafiaboss teases him, and tugs his sleeves up to his elbows again, eyeing you up and down while you're passing him with your cart. You discern his interest in the pockets of your skirt, or what is there underneath, instantly, but before you can think that the man may be just the same as the others, he cracks his knuckles. “Old geezer might die on his own at this point, look at how he's smoking his raisin-lungs away."

"Poetic."

So much for hearing government and company secrets, here are these two joking about the chairman’s death. You need the chairman a little bit longer if you want to earn money, but the idea of him dying soon isn’t too bothersome.

"You gotta get used to my Korean way of speaking, brother! Then we can communicate correctly!”

With your ears sharpened, but your face presenting unconcerned, you devote yourself to headman Park to refill his bucket, ice cubes jangling down the iron jar, whilst Mr. Choi stretches his arms behind his head, raising an eyebrow towards his elder who isn't hearing him out.

“Thank you,” headman Park says, very briefly and precisely. The tong you put in the bucket for him to use almost tips, and you don’t know whether he does it on purpose for he’s been frozen still all during the dinner, but with his reflexes, he prevents it from falling before you can, but if that wasn't surprising enough, he grazes your skin while returning.

Soft, uncalloused; not a single ounce of labor roughed up these hands, it seems. They tickled you featherly, and right now, you are looking for some type of confirmation in those black spheres of his to know that you're allowed to exhale and react to his touch, because you gasped slightly and have held your breath ever since.

Nothing. You are the first one to look— no, shy away from his stare, getting your hands in front of your abdomen again, your fingers searching for each other, fiddling around by themselves without your knowledge. 

Mr. Choi lets his wrist-watched hand fall between his lap, neck tilted slightly to the back, licking over his canine tooth with a grin, and it appears to you that he's either noticed his associate's small gesture or how headman Park is still staring at you. “You wanna do something, don’t you, brother?”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

Mr. Choi shakes his head to irritate headman Park and make him explain himself.

“This is not business.”

Headman Park glances down his whiskey, droplets of water have formed around the brim of the cold glass. It is untouched. 

"I see you aren’t enjoying the whiskey, would you like something else to drink, sir?", you ask, trying to finish your job and get away from here before you get ideas that don’t include money between your thighs.

"The Fillico, please," the male answers, not having glanced away from your eyes once to inspect your cart, where the black, long bottle, donning a crown and wings adorned with Swarovski-crystals, awaits you to be grabbed.

"A glass of cold Fillico Black King!", you exclaim, your surprise of the particularity that anyone would drink water at the chairman's dinner can’t be hidden, and then hum, "Coming right up, sir."

“You’re really something, brother,” Mr. Choi wheezes, taking the last pull of his cigarette, watching you fill up a new glass for his unrelated brother with the finest mineral that can be bought to-date, pricing around 6 Billion Won, or 4500 US Dollars per bottle. “Wouldn’t you say it’s difficult to not be smokin’ or drinkin’ in this business, Y/N?”

Sure, whatever ‘business’ a man like him is talking about. “Yes, sir." Wait, hold on, did Mr. Choi just say your name? 

“You don’t look too impressed,” the male grins, seeing how you’ve narrowed your eyes in confusion.

"Pardon me, I was just– how do you know my name, sir?”

Mr. Choi shrugs as if to say ‘I dunno’ and presses his cigarette out on the table. It sizzles out, like your head is also slowly deteriorating. He throws the bud into the CEO's ice-bucket— headman Park is not even minorly irritated by it— and then, with his ringed fingers, goes through his hair, setting it loose behind his head. He’s picking on you, and you surely feel picked out, that's all you can think. It's so unusual to be hearing your name, not because it hasn't been said during the dinner, but because—

"Y/N Y/L/N, a pretty name for a pretty servant like you, huh?"

Your heart somehow flutters. A stalwart man like him taking your name into his mouth is nothing you hear on the daily. Deep, manly. It's not flattering, no, it sounds wrong, feels so dangerous for a guy like him to be taking something so personal and turning it into his possession, like you're slowly going to lose yourself in the words he speaks in a lax manner. Your name is precious to you, and it just drops off his tongue like it's candy. Where on earth does a man like him get your full name from?

"Sir," you insist, dipping your fingertip under your fingernail, fidgeting.

“Oh, don’t tell me ya prefer that stupid name ‘missy’,” Mr. Choi chuckles and fetches headman Park’s full glass of whiskey, his dialect draping out his mouth.

“Or do you secretly enjoy it," he grins, and with his eyebrows raised, Mr. Choi drinks up his acquaintance's booze in one big gulp, letting the glass fall down on the table with a thump, breathing out, "missy?”

People drink whiskey neatly, you know that. The guests have been doing it all evening, but that's for two ounces. Headman Park had a glass full of the oak-colored sherry liquid with an uncommonly high alcohol percentage placed in front of him. A taunt from the chairman maybe, to subtly scorn them about their apparent boyhoodish inexperience, but Mr. Choi makes it look so adept: The strong alcohol flows down his throat smooth and speedy, even though he did misplace the rim by an inch.

There's whiskey dripping down his chin as he glances over to his side, smirking at his neighbor who's blinking frozen, as well as the other guests, who are seemingly just as irritated that the mafiaboss got you as flustered as you look like.

You’re left with your mouth slightly open, shotting down a glass of whiskey shouldn't have looked as barbarous as Mr. Choi made it appear. Like a striking attack, baring his claws, he growls out the herby aftertaste. "'Scuse me, 'got really thirsty there."

The mafiaboss goes over his lips with his tongue, watching your hand play with the seam of your skirt, where he knows a handkerchief is buried in your pocket.

“Aw, shit, I got wet,” he wails over-dramatically, looking down on himself and then again locking his eyes into yours.

“Wanna clean me up, baby?”

“Pardon?”

Much to your continued bafflement, Mr. Choi smiles, and as he sees you taking a second to confirm what he said, he continues talking to you like you’re a hooker.

“Don't like that one, Y/N?” Again, with the name! Where does he get the name?!

“Sir, how—“

“You have introduced yourself to us,” headman Park finally reveals in the high Seoul tongue, perchance by pity, and you inhale, a bit embarrassed that you didn’t come to think of it earlier. What is happening to you? Is it because you’re finally away from those sleazes, that you’re being so light-headed? Lack of training? Sexual attraction? God, that’s a rookie’s mistake, Y/N, think about them as targets, not objectives. The objective is to not end up in a bed with them, remember? That’s like, rule number one. Even though nobody told you about the Mafia while you were at training, that’s a valid argument.

Don't let your guard down, you’re in a room with the men of men, no maybe the men. The most influential men you could be meeting in Seoul right now, aside from how little is known about them.

Whether he's a real chaebol or not, PARA-CEO Park Seonghwa is definitely the nephew of good ol’ chairman over there, just leeching off his money even if today is the first time the man is visiting his distant uncle who is definitely a bit sour about the fact he took so long to connect with him. Money has its sources and sometimes, most of the time, it’s nepotism. There you go, the explanation of his wealth and why the male is so well-mannered sitting on his seat. He’s woven into the conglomerate-family, been made CEO to keep him that way and all in all, you could care less about him, if he just wasn’t the only person that was kind of nice to you. Just thinking about his eyes makes you a bit dizzy, but you can get that fixed by turning your eyes to the mafiaboss.

Mafia and chaebol don't usually associate, for reasons that are rather obvious. Mafia’s rule the underworld with the overworld’s laws, and the chaebol rule over what laws the overworld decides on, digging their hands into the government like it’s soot, planting and pulling crops wherever they can profit from it. Money.

It’s sickening every time you think about it. How many people in this room could pay for your whole life? No, how many can’t pay for your whole life and beyond? You can count them with one hand and they’re all wearing the same clothes as you. 

Money knows where it belongs; that’s a phrase you made up the day you were told about the crippling debt by the letter and the bank declining your card. It sounds similar to your monks' sayings of water's ever-flowing life, but if water returns, money drifts. It wanders across the citizens, but follows a direction it's always bound to end up. Just like today, with you getting bankrolls to graze the inner space of your legs, only to know it’s going to end up in the same fingers that gave it to you.

So, where do headman Park and Mr. Choi get a say in this? Do they get a say in this?

“I did introduce myself, how could I forget? I’m sorry, sir,” you admit and let out a laugh that is half intended to sound as nervous as it did, and half regrettably filled with authentic uneasiness.

Old chairman, what does he know? Have those teeth really ever sunk into flesh? You can’t play with your fate here, but by hook or crook they intrigue you so much. You haven’t expected guests that aren't ass-kissers of the chairman, and apparently your talent only goes so far. You have no idea what to do with them to satisfy them except letting out your real thoughts and you can’t do that, definitely not in front of the man.

But you feel so connected to them. The caution everyone has, it confuses you just as much you're amazed by it, and you want that, you want that kind of safety. Every guest here has money, but not every guest has their authority.

“It’s alright, everybody makes mistakes, baby,” Mr. Choi smirks and musters you again, rubbing the liquid away from the corner of his lip with his thumb and kissing the remaining alcohol away, savoring every droplet of whiskey, but also savoring you by keeping his thumb leaned into his opened mouth, eyes looking sultrily at you, you might as well just—

“Mistakes, San. Beware of them,” headman Park falls in and his companion finally sways his eyes away from you, hand backing down. “Talkative drunkard.“

“Brother,” Mr. Choi sighs and grabs the glass from his neighbor that's filled with ice cubes to murmur, “I’m not that drunk," swinging it around with concise flicks of his wrist to enunciate his words.

With the couple bantering, you think you can calm down. Maybe you were overreacting. Bootlicking some birdbrains is a way easier life than to follow these two.

"Hey, baby?”, but there's another call of the bird of prey.

“Yes, sir?”, you answer, fingers letting go of your skirt that has thrashed your skin by how you abused it. You don’t even know when you started to react to the name 'baby', but truth be told it’s better than ‘missy’ by miles. Being over here is better than being over there by miles, that is unchangeable.

“Could you get me clean? This is kinda sticky."

With two fingers, he grabs the collar of his shirt and flails it softly, ice clinking in his glass, as he shows you his indeed quite syrupy breast.

"Yes, sir."

You nod towards the crevice that is the space where his muscles meet, and before your eyes can get lost in the plump thews, you collect yourself so you can do what you were asked for; getting your hands on his body.

“Please.”

“Ahh, I liked you more when you were quiet, brother! I don’t wanna call you a party-pooper, but c'mon! It’s your plan, and I’m just— doin’ my part.”

Mr. Choi twists his upper body a bit so he’s still able to hold the empty glass behind your back, though it feels more caging in than it should, when you lean forwards to softly tap his skin with your handkerchief. His arm hovers next to your hip and his upper body is extended wide around you.

“What do you say, baby?”, the male asks, and you harrumph to take your mind elsewhere from how rock-hard the mafiaboss feels under your hand, how his cologne smells so rich and inviting, and how— “Wanna be bitten?”

“Pardon?”, you ask, not understanding the context of Mr. Choi’s question, but without fail grasping the intentions of it.

The male grins, and you’re unsure as to how he got his hand on the bottle of whiskey from your tray as quickly as he did, but it’s there, in the hand that’s across your hip, and from then on, everything you do seems risky. His bicep is curled around your thigh so he can fill himself another glass, and if you take a step back, your ass will be pushed against his arm, but if you step forward, you’ll land on top of him; a straining dilemma that only inflames your guts the more you think about it.

“San,” headman Park grumbles quietly, seeing you struggle to stand on your feet.

“Agh, come on, brother, 's all going well! Live a little for me, will ya? Watch me and follow,” Mr. Choi nags with a juvenile pout and takes a disgruntled sip from his drink, making your imaginations reality by pushing you with his forearm with no forewarning. You trip closer to him and his arms raise, as you have to find safety on his shoulders to not fall into his crotch.

“Oops, ‘scuse me, baby,” he grins, feline eyes glancing up to you, your bust in his view. The other men are grumbling, fussy, yammering— if they knew, they would have done that with you a long time ago!— and in your head, you don't know whether you should be doing this at the chairman's dinner and not somewhere in a stripclub or just, god, anywhere else.

“It’s okay, sir,” is what you answer, and the short silence would be the perfect opportunity to scuffle back to your original stance, but you saw his ever-growing, throbbing bulge in his black suit-pants and it is staring you down.

Everything about him is so big…

“Really, baby?”, Mr. Choi asks, eyebrows pushed together, lips formed into a pout, feigning an expression of worry.

“Yes, sir,” you say, the big question of 'what is the goal here?' unnerving you, but with the quick, harsh movement of his leg against the back of your knee, you're—

“Sir!”

Sat on his thigh, your butt is bouncing on the hard flesh, fingers dug into his shoulders deeper due to the shock, ribcage moving up and down as you’re breathing fast and anxiously. At this point, you’ve gathered the attention of many who are seemingly more excited about the situation than you are, silencing all around, while the chairman continues to crack drunk jokes on the other side.

Mr. Choi chuckles at your nervousness and puts his glass down. “Aww, look at you, baby,” he coos, his rough, calloused fingers trailing between the inner space of your thighs that’s pushed into his leg. “Need a little break?”

As you sit there— securing yourself on the table, feeling his hand sit between your legs, you become lighter with each passing second, tingles being sent down your abdomen. Could Mr. Choi please stop smirking like that? It’s going to make you lose your mind, lose every thought of what you were trying to achieve at this table tonight.

“The chairman doesn’t allow breaks, sir,” you murmur, trying to cling onto the last sense of service you have, “I have to stay here.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper for the CEO in front of you to become curious, but loud enough for the mafiaboss to scoff and massage his hand deeper into your flesh.

“Sir, I really—“, you try to protest, but Mr. Choi uses his other finger to signal you to come closer to his face. You do as you’re told, his warm breath hitting your ear after you lean backwards.

“Baby,” he cackles, and his lips touch your earlobe, the smell of the smoke fading out his mouth.

“I practically own that wimp,” and Mr. Choi lets out a chuckle before his voice lowers an octave, “Let me own you, too.”

His tongue grazes over your sensitive skin as if he was a snake trying to convince you of eating the strange fruit, and you shudder forwards in surprise, his growl still vibrating in your ears.

You should get yourself together— yeah, that sounds like a good idea, if it just wasn't for the fact that this is exactly how you've been presenting yourself the whole evening. You're cornered, and not only by him, but your actions and it's, oh, old man, it's something. It's something that broadens the playground that was set out in front of you, something that gives you more to play, no, more to be played with.

The other guests are gawking already, forgetting about their prejudices when it comes to the 'youngsters', just happy to be seeing their missy in action.

The mafiaboss sighs, breaking his whispering and speaking louder than before. “But if you cherish so much about that old geezer, he’ll be taken care of, no? Maybe even better than before, or am I wrong here, brother?”

He clicks with his mouth— is it a habit?— and looks at headman Park, who rolls his eyes, as if they’re sharing some secret you’re not a part of. But before you can fall into further confusion, your legs tighten around Mr. Choi’s wristwatch, as his thumb strokes the surface under your skirt one time, right across your cunt which has been heating up since the first time you saw the reflection of yourself in his silver cross. A pant leaves your mouth and you have to grind your ass over so you can somehow clench your legs together.

“You like that?”, Mr. Choi sneers, chuckling into your ear, as he continues to move his thick finger against your clit. "Of course you do. Let me hear more of those cute sounds, baby.”

You grab his bicep, heat crawling up your abdomen against his forearm, your crotch feeling more and more buzzed as the male works his fingertip into you. Nobody says anything, just murmuring insignificant sentences to keep up the chatty mood.

Headman Park in the meanwhile, crosses his arms, catching the attention of the mafiaboss.

“Brother, can’t you see I’m doing this for you? Enjoy yourself.”

Mr. Choi flashes an eye-smile and keeps groping your cunt, you melting more and more into his lap and under the heated gazes of the crowd. Your servant-colleagues don’t know what to do, or no, maybe they knew exactly that this would happen and think you deserve all of this shame, just in general not helping you escape the touch of the mafiaboss.

“Sounds like you’re enjoying her more than anything,” headman Park says, looking indifferent, but his words don’t cross out the possibility that inside his pants, his cock isn’t growing too, how his arms are crossed, clenched around each other.

“Come on, baby,” Mr. Choi growls into your ear, “give that fucking bore a show, won’t you?”

You’re split open. He’s strong, oh gosh, so strong, taking not more than one push to grab you by your thigh and spread your legs, make you slip on his crotch, as he closes his knees together to support you from down under.

“San,” headman Park warns, but his mouth stays slightly open, tongue pressed against the surface of his upper teeth, suppressing a grin.

You flatten your back against Mr. Choi’s torso as an attempt to hide your face behind his neck, and breathe heavily against his freckled skin, the cold exterior of his pearly accessory grazes your chin.

“What?”, the male asks, taking his glass, his arm slithering under your armpit and his chin resting on your shoulder as he sips from it, not to forget the hand that is still pushed into the now moist fabric between your legs, moving in circular motion.

Headman Park doesn’t answer and folds his hands together, placing his elbows on the table, fingers touching his lower lip.

“Geez, brother, you should feel this cunt right now,” the mafiaboss wheezes, almost hiccuping from his excitement, “so fucking hot, you won’t believe.”

“Make her louder.”

Even Mr. Choi was surprised to hear that come out of the reserved CEO's mouth, and as he chuckles and takes the last sip from his whiskey, he puts down his glass once in for all to accept headman Park’s order.

With a slight lean forward, his free hand wraps around your neck and you gasp for air. Mr. Choi’s legs are spread so when you have to tuck in your pelvis, you can feel his bulge under your cunt. At this point, you don’t care for the piercing gazes anymore, and the chairman might as well give you a nice tip for the sight of you grinding your wet pussy into his biggest investor’s clothed cock. You’re such a master profiteer, Y/N, Jongho was right.

“Fuck, missy,” Mr. Choi grunts and he’s so frustrated he can’t take off more of your clothes, but it doesn’t prevent him from following the order when headman Park mutters, “grab her breasts.”

It is one shameless show.

You becoming needy and whiny on Choi San’s lap, the mafiaboss grinning, as CEO Park Seonghwa’s eyes are unmoving from your sullen, aroused expressions— it has persuaded the audience to want their own slice of fun, but even with hands wrapped around their no-use cocks, everybody in the room has their eyes sealed on the young servant whose only job was to refill some ice.

Mr. Choi can feel it; what a slut you are on top of him, how eagerly you’re grinding your cunt over his bulge, and how jealous the others are watching— and this includes all the blokes that are watching with cigars in their mouths, but also the servants that would have gladly taken your seat and not rub their hands over old, moist, wrinkly skin.

“Sir,” you whimper, as Mr. Choi knobs your breasts, his tough hands cupping each tit, just like headman Park commanded him.

Fuck, how he wishes to be able to see your face as well as well as headman Park does, but the sobby whines might as well do.

“So noisy on my cock,” Mr. Choi snarls, “you’re practically begging for attention, missy.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you hiss and the mafiaboss inhales sharply, gasping, his cock jumping, very turned on by your sudden spunky tone. Bingo.

“Did you hear that, brother?”, he whales, tempting the headman to interact with him more as the main viewer of his performance, but the man to his friend is only raising an eyebrow. “Baby's got some zest in her. You like that, don’t you?”

Mr. Choi continues to coo headman Park into defeat, “You like ‘em feisty, brother. I know you, chief execution officer, sir. You wanna ram your cock into this little missy's pretty mouth, just admit it.”

Little missy's pretty mouth. "Say that again, shitbag," you hiss, but Mr. Choi grins and pries into your bust, working folds into your freshly-ironed shirt. "Listen, brother," he breathes, "It gets your cock fucking going, doesn't it?"

The mafiaboss chuckles and adds, so only you can hear it, "Definitely gets my cock going, baby."

Headman Park scans the room, and you can see how he shakes his head, and looks at Mr. Choi with a slight distaste. “You may leave soon.” 

“Really?”, Mr. Choi grins, beaming, grabbing your hips forcefully in the joy of it, and while the CEO’s words leave you misled, you sigh into the pressure of being pressed down deep into his muscled thigh, your cunt pulsating through his flesh.

“Change of plans.”

“Alright," he murmurs, just as offended as you are by his lack of reactions, but quickly catching up on his lust to hear, see, feel you more. "But not before I make this baby come."

“Punster,” headman Park jeers and it does occur to you that you’re hearing more of his soft voice than before, but when he looks at his wristwatch, you suppose you’re not doing well enough for him. Look at me, you rich-ass prude, you think and whine, being moved across Mr. Choi’s thigh by his own hands. Your clit feels hot, like it is seriously going to burn and fall off, but you, fuck, feel so good; the sounds just keep leaving your mouth, your high approaching very soon.

“How long were you thinking, brother?”, Mr. Choi asks and is nibbling at your neck, as he rams you over his thigh, fighting with the pace you're breathing wispy and digging your nails more and more into the glass-table until your fingertips turn white.

"Five.”

“Five? Make it ten.”

“You only last ten?”

“You can be such a bully, brother,” Mr. Choi fleers, and you have no fucking idea what they’re talking about, since you are feeling your orgasm coming in less than a minute, stars appearing in front of your eyes. “Make it ten.”

The male takes note of how you're bucking in your pelvis and uses his canine teeth to make your neck flame on, his hand placed roughly around your throat, as you become more sensitive to every move. "Sir," you whisper, a knot forming in your stomach.

Your clit is begging you for mercy at this point, demanding you to get the clothes off your legs so your slick has some way to escape, but you're drenching Mr. Choi's suit-pants in your wetness with stuttered heaving, ready to moan loudly in any second now if you could just find that one fucking spot—

"Are you gonna cum, baby? Right in front of everyone?", he murmurs against your neck and you nod repeatedly, raving your clothed clit on his thick, pillowy muscle, desperately chasing your high. "Come on," he snickers, "Show them what kind of slut missy is, huh? Such a good fucking slut for us, aren't you?"

"Yesyesyes," you whine, not caring for anything than your release, and Mr. Choi is being so kind as to continue breathing heavily into your ear to make you melt into bliss, but nothing gets you on more than the gentle smile that headman Park is sending your way, head slightly tilted to the back— is he nodding? Is he finally approving? Oh, fuck, you think, and you're doing the best job darting your hips non-stop to continue feeling your cunt be stroked by Mr. Choi's flesh, pursuing the CEO's praising acknowledgment. "Good fucking slut on my lap," the mafiaboss cackles, "come for daddy."

"You fucking weirdo," you falter, not wanting to call him "I'm never gonna call you—

Mmmuh!" Mr. Choi grabs you by your hair and tugs it harshly, making your back arch and your head rotate to his side. In the open mouth, his tongue plunges into your throat, the taste of woody herbs and bitter alcohol are flooding your tastebuds. Smearing all of your lipstick, his mouth is pressed against yours like he's sealing yours shut. You convulse your lower body in surprise of the sudden act and holy shit, get that one spot over your clit that's also stroking your gaping entrance, your body releasing all of its heat into one blaring, roaring zap, with your eyes rolling back your head, your stirred voice screaming, "FUCK!"

There is a gasp heard through the dining hall and you're not sure whether it was the chairman, a servant, or headman Park in front of you, but as you are spasming on Mr. Choi's thigh and your back arches to his chest, you feel like the world is expanding on you, peeping, intrusive onlookers cramming out their money to thank you for the show they got, white trickling through the linen of their underwear. 

Coming down from your high, weakened and all the while more aroused by the mafiaboss whispering the words "good girl" into your ear, you try to open your eyelids to catch headman Park putting on some black leather-gloves he got from his briefcase, muttering something under his breath to the mafiaboss.

“Go."

What the fuck?

Mr. Choi hooks his arm under your legs while he re-applies his lips to yours, and lifts you up like the pretty princess you are to most of the gawkers that don't stop watching, when he stands up.

Everybody has their eyes on the kiss the mafiaboss and servant missy are sharing, but headman Park doesn’t even look at you, when his partner starts carrying you to the elevator that's waiting for you at the wall about in the middle of the dining table, and just retrieves his open briefcase from the floor. Has he had enough of you already?

“Where are we—“, you breathe, but Mr. Choi kisses you silent, tongue forcing its entry, preventing you from figuring out what's happening, after the mafiaboss puts you down in front of the door and pushes you against the frame roughly. Cheering and hooting encourages him to continue rubbing his thumb over your skin as the other ringed fingers are holding your thigh, and you're pressed against his leg, virtually fenced in by Mr. Choi while he pushes the button for the lift to come.

His eyes are squinting to the side while he works his lips against you, in a way confirming that all of the guests (except the CEO) are begrudgingly anticipating the next actions of the mafiaboss, not caring how the headman is slowly pushing his seat away from the table to get more leg-space, which you seem to be the only person noticing it.

The golden door opens with a bell dinging the elevator’s arrival, and Mr. Choi grabs you by your ass, leading the way inside it. You can't see it correctly with your eyes closed, can only feel his big arms push into your frame, but he even makes for a show-like exit, burlesquely saluting the audience with two fingers, clicking with his mouth. It must really be a habit, you think, and giggle into the kiss.

The men attempt to throw bankrolls into your space and some succeed, some don't, but while you're glad your plan worked out, you aren't too sure what you've just done with, or for the mafiaboss.

Your heated kiss continues and because you want to feel him, you unbutton his shirt that doesn’t need that much working, three buttons being pushed open by your jellylike hands. Before you can unclothe him though, Mr. Choi pushes his arm against the mirror next to your head, stopping you to take a look at his wristwatch. He strokes his hair to the back with the other hand, revealing some of his meaty abs, and once he’s reached the backside of his head, he slides his fingers down his neck and around his Adam's apple to scratch it, announcing, “Ten minutes on the clock. Shit, brother's dick must be fucking exploding in his pants right now."

“Sir?”, you ask, overwhelmed by the words that are not making sense in your head, but also distracted by his hand that’s around your tie.

“Given he really could've finished in five but,” he yanks you towards his face. “I wanted to have you a bit more for myself, missy.”

He smiles, very arrogantly like the patronizing fuck he is, like he knows how strong he is, what a dominating aura he possesses, but at this point, in between the mirrors and on this black, marbled floor, you are not at the chairman’s dinner anymore, aren’t a servant anymore– you aren’t bound to any authority, are you?

“If you fucking call me ‘missy’ again, I’ll bite your fucking dick off.”

Except for the moment that you’re talking to him, a mafiaboss, whose breast is marked by— and you can see it very clearly now for it fits perfectly into yours— hands that have shared the same, if not a similar experience with you.

“How’d you know I was into biting, baby?”

And holy fuck, his back looks even crazier.

“God, sir,” you breathe out in awe and a little bit of fear. You can count the lines of red scratches on his back and as you finally let his shirt fall from his shoulders, the reflection of his muscles, how they relax under your touch. You become starstruck. Everything about him is so scarring, but fuck, how it attracts you, the wildness, the savagery— there’s something so free about him.

"What, baby? You like what you're seeing? How naughty..."

Ten minutes aren’t a lot, but Mr. Choi makes his best attempt to hurry over the trivial parts of fucking you. He steps closer, your ass hitting the handrail, legs crossing together, and your buttons pop in one rip, as his two hands rupture your blouse open. He lets his shirt drop to the floor, all the while his lips clash against the nook of your neck, making you sigh under the luminous lights of the elevator and grab his neck. You’re getting hazy, horny; damn, it’s been so long you’ve had a good fuck. Satisfactory sex is another luxury you were postponing for later.

With his lips sewn on your shoulder, kissing and forcing his tongue against a spot he deems especially tasty, the half-naked male unzips your skirt to finally reveal the black pantyhose that looks soaked in your slick. After he chuckles at the sight of it, Mr. Choi licks over his lips and cups your jaw with his hand, drawing a trail of insatiable kisses across your skin.

“Still wanna bite my dick off?”, he asks with a sly smirk, breathy, having caught your aroused look locked on his silver chains, his jacked upper body inviting you to get your mouth in there until it’s molded around your teeth.

“Come on, baby,” the male provokes you, “You think I’m gonna fuck you just like this? Think I’m gonna ram myself inside your cute fucking cunt ‘cause I’m such a big scary fucking man?”

You inhale sharply. “N- no, I…”, you breathe out, letting your tongue run over your teeth.

“Aw, baby, am I making you shy?”, Mr. Choi hoots, “I didn’t think you were a shy one. You were pretty noisy on my thigh for your cunt, weren’t you? Getting all the sounds out for brother to hear them… You really served a show there, baby.”

Your mouth only lets out stammered gibberish– you have never learnt how to talk dirty, but Mr. Choi uses your opened lips to ram his tongue into it again anyway, and you're almost proud to say you've gotten used to it.

He breathes rashly through his nose, and he tastes less of bourbon but more of dulcet desire, mixed in with the red of your lipstick sitting on his lip. Your knee strokes his erection while he gets his hands behind your back to get your bra off, lips clashing and raving against each other. “Letting your body talk for you?”, Mr. Choi husks, panting at having his overstrained cock touched. He relieves you from the pressure around the bust and continues to ramble. "I knew I could have a lot of fun with you the second I laid my eyes on you.” You pant and reunite your lips with his. "Little missy, such a whore for the rich."

He’s overconfident he’s seeing right through you, it infuriates you. Mr. Choi massages his hands into your breasts, the cold rings grazing sharply into your warm flesh, and as your knee is still between his crotch, you huff. You can be a whore for the rich when you’re earning money, but right now, you’re doing things for your own pleasure.

“Are you going to have a lot of fun with me?”, you sing-song in a high-pitched female voice to the mafiaboss that’s immediately taken aback, and you know the word 'missy' is on top of his tongue again, when you interrupt him with a quick jab of your knee into his groin. "Shit-eating fat-cat."

Mr. Choi grunts, head tilting down. His feline eyes meet your foxy ones, and while you weren't preparing for a staredown, the mafiaboss smirks and bites his lip. 

He has a lot to say, you can see it. There’s something glimmering under the lust-drunken layer behind his eyes, and it’s deep, goes deeper, but for some reason, the mafiaboss, who just so despicably couldn’t hold his mouth, doesn’t let out the words that’s crossing his mind.

“Sir–” 

Wrong deduction.

Mr. Choi scowls in laughter, and you guess he meant to joke with you, but he means to play with you much more, when he, once again, lifts you up, by your waist this time, and balances you on the handrail.

Resting his forearm on your thighs to stabilize you, Mr. Choi digs in his pocket to fetch his cigarette box, looking at himself through the mirror and shaking some strands out of his face. "Shit-eating fat-cat," he repeats with a lisp, pulling out one of the slim rolls with the corner of his mouth, and he continues to chuckle, as he glances at you through his eyelashes, "you should've said that to the old geezer when you had the chance to, baby."

"The chairman?"

No answer. Mr. Choi lights his cigarette with a zippo, and keeps it lit in his mouth, as he, with no forewarning, tears open your pantyhose from your crotch with both of his hands, spreading your legs wide. You have to get your hands around his head to be able to keep yourself on the handrail.

“Why do you look so scared? Think I’m gonna fuck you?”, he lisps. “I’m just taking a good look, baby. What a pretty cunt you got there, baby.”

You gulp. Mr. Choi slides his index finger across your heated folds through the fabric and your cunt clenches together, wanting to be filled up. “Sir,” you sigh, and the mafiaboss pulls in smoke from his cig, raising an eyebrow.

“What, baby? ‘You need something?”, he asks, “You’re not a fucking servant anymore, or do you need to be ordered around, missy?”

You try to look angry, but Mr. Choi only pouts and presses his finger through your panties, soaking them in your slick that’s gathered at your entrance. “Desperate to please the money-man? So wet for him…”

“Fuck you,” you mewl, but Mr. Choi knows what he’s doing when he thumbs your clit and exhales smoke into your face, hiding his face for a short second which gives you confidence. “I need you… to fuck me.”

“What did you say, baby? I couldn’t hear.”

“Please, sir, just… fuck me, please…”

“Louder.”

“God! Just fuck me! Didn’t you say we have ten minutes? Make them fucking count!”

“There we go, baby. My slutty little missy. Oh, baby, you’re growing on me, brother’s gonna hate that.” 

You huff and Mr. Choi slides your panties off your legs, taking a short glimpse at his wristwatch. “Damn, ten’s really a short time.”

How many minutes have passed? Ten already? You know you said it, but you mentioned it only because it made sense, if you’re honest, you have no clue what the time is worth for. Aren't these the men who have time for gold?

The biting smell of tobacco enters your nose, making you cough out loud. Is smoking even allowed in the elevator? Wait, wait, wait, no, maybe you should worry about other things, for example what you're going to do when those ten minutes are over, when all of this is over. They clearly have some type of plan and thing they are carrying out right now, but you don’t know how much you’re invited in there. 

Mr. Choi finishes his quick break, inhaling one last puff and keeping his cig between his lips again, and his hands unbuckle his belt in silence, while you contemplate.

Clanking, ruttling, and steps begin to thump behind the door— have any of you two even pressed a button? The mafiaboss looks concentrated, fixed on your cunt, taking out his throbbing, panging cock out his underwear, stroking it a few times to god, fuck, finally get to touch it after having been dry-humped hot.

Squelching, huffing, and voices echo through the floor— is that the chairman you hear? You can only yelp, when Mr. Choi drags off your panties and slathering his thick fingers across your folds in one, then penetrating with another forceful movement.

"Fuck!", you hiss out, grabbing the handrail next to your hips, trying to balance yourself on it still. The mafiaboss snickers into your ear, and tours through your cunt, all the while it appears that all hell is breaking loose outside.

BANG!

"Sir, what—!"

"Shhh, baby," Mr. Choi hushes you, and takes out his cig with the fingers that are now glistening with your wetness, placing it on top of his lips vertically to the scar that is accompanying his smug smirk.

BANG!

"You got nothin' to worry 'bout, baby," he lulls, "we're just eatin' the pheasant and the egg here," and exhales smoke into your face out his mouth-hole, which distracts you from the third, fourth—

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Another proverb, pheasant and the egg— 'two birds with one stone'. Mr. Choi unfolds his hand as if he was counting the minutes, or the shots— wait, yes, shots! Fuck, those are gun-shots, right? You've never heard something so loud ever in your life, where does someone get guns from in South Korea? What even would they need guns for? Why would they use them? What the fuck is happening outside?!

"Oh, fuck!", you moan out, before fear and realization can crawl up your scalp and take away your lusting for the male, Mr. Choi has jerked his hip up, his cock gliding into you smoothly as if your cunt was made for him, the length and girth perfectly curling inside. Your back arches, at least as far as you can arch it, and he grins bemusedly at your jolted reaction.

BANG!

With every blast that follows, Mr. Choi is thrusting into you, first slowly, but then adding more speed and vigor as he goes, or as the blasting goes, making you shakily watch yourself be wrecked by the broad man through the reflection on the other side, your legs dangling with his rough movement.

You don't know how he's fucking you through your tightness, because with each ducking of his hips it feels like your inner walls are expanding more and ungodly more, as if he was piercing you in half.

Small puffs of smoke leave Mr. Choi's mouth each time he pants out raspy "oh baby"s and loud claps of him slapping your ass overtone the screaming, scrambling noises outside, as you two work your lower bodies against and into each other, growing more passionate, throbbing feverishly.

"Fuck, baby," Mr. Choi hisses, cigarette tilting in his mouth, as his face frowns together. "So fucking good for daddy, aren't you? So fucking tight and wet, such a good fucking girl—"

The screams outside are dying down, but the mafiaboss and you are getting louder, breathier, lustier; with your head falling backwards, hitting the mirror, the twisting feeling of fear and the ecstasy to be bouncing on Mr. Choi's big cock mix up like one hellish drink, boiling and churning inside of you.

Smashing both his hands on each of you ass-cheeks to dig his fingers into them and get more stability to ram into you so fast, and oh boy, it's so fucking fast, you're going to spiral— Mr. Choi sputters, "Are you gonna come? Are you going to come for daddy, baby? Greedy baby gonna take daddy's huge fucking load?"

The male is unraveling, his once low, stable voice turning into a whiny, hoarse, cracked mess just like you, practically urging, begging you to finally take the name ‘daddy’ into your mouth.

"Come on baby, say it for me, huh? Feels good to be my slut?", he disentangles, "Be a good slut for daddy, baby."

"I'm not gonna call you— that, fuckhead!", you moan, though your insides are curdling together to finally be released, the knot tightening with each drop of sweat that is forming on your boiling face.

"Really? Think you can afford to misbehave, baby?", Mr. Choi snickers and spits his cig on the floor, your ass being handled at an insane speed, his cock slipping in and out of you with rough ease. He takes it upon himself to dig his teeth into the nook of your neck, biting you heftily, your pulse knocking against your throat, as you feel his cock run in and out of your cunt. Your head goes light and dazed, but before you can gasp out your high from being fucked, bitten, sent to bliss, the male sinks you deep into his cock fully, it does not give you the last thrust you would need to—

"Fuckfuckfuck, I'm gonna cum," you whimper, needing to tremble, but unable to move because his hands are restricting you from any movement, and you continue to bring out a string of weak "pleasepleaseplease" that bounces back from the mafiaboss, who is raising an eyebrow, waiting for the magic word to be spoken out of your wet lips. Tears have formed at the corner of your eye and he thumbs it away, grinning coyly.

"Fuck you, I'mnotgonna fucking, ugh—!", you sob, "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

"Aww, you wanna hate daddy so bad, don’t you?”

“Fuuuck you!” Whines leave your mouth, wanting to cum, wanting to move, wanting for Mr. Choi to continue fucking into you and not wipe away your tears.

“Just say you love me, baby,” he heaves and returns his hand to your hip.

Thrusting into you once with a clap against your groin, to make your cunt clench around him, and then twice with the last blood-curdling BANG! from outside, his cock is deep inside you. He feels you tighten, pulsate, craving to be released, but Mr. Choi will not move again to your liking until you finally let go of yourself, which riles you up with no hope.

"F— Fuuuck, okay!", you scream out, annoyed, angry, wanting to fucking cum; "Daddy!", you sob and Mr. Choi smirks, instantly getting to work to toast the adieu of your pride. Thumb on your clit, he circles around your sensitive bud to double the tension you feel through all of your body, while you gutter, "fuck me, daddy, please, make me cum, please, daddy, please—"

He laughs, no, howls— elated, animated, drunk, and then, with his strong, buff fucking arms, pounds you into his cock like a punching bag, your ass hitting his pelvis so many times until you have to use his gelled hair as a last resort to hold yourself up and not push yourself from the handrail with your head against the mirror, but he holds you, holds you steadily in his grip.

"Good god, good fucking missy, such a good fucking slut for me, cum all over my cock–   all over my fucking cock, baby," Mr. Choi grunts, and the string that was keeping you balanced snaps, your orgasm hitting you like that makes your insides tighten around the mafiaboss and his throbbing girth, your whole body being flushed by an overwhelming wave of pleasure which you drink up whole. His cockhead rubs against your sweetspot, you riding out the high while seeing nothing but bliss.

"Holy fuck," you breathe, and your fingers grip into the thick skin of his back, and with Mr. Choi's hips not stopping to hit your pelvis, there are additional, injuring, deep red marks on there with every thrust. You’re scratching him like a beast wanting to tear up its prey, but the beast is fucking into you like there’s no tomorrow. His cock does not stop grazing against your deepest spot, tears rolling down your heated cheek, and your mouth is unable to get out the words you want it to when you get the feeling that he's going to cum soon.

"O- out," you warn him, but the mafiaboss makes a disappointed face, “I– I really can’t afford a child, p-please pull out–!”

He draws his eyebrows in, scoffs and looks you deep in the eyes, his muscular body tucked in, murmuring, rambling out his whiskey-painted throat, “Is that really your only problem, baby? That you don’t have enough money?” His forehead leans against yours and your eyelids flutter open– you are being a mitt around his dick– and he pouts in pity, his iron cross hanging from his chest, as he talks to you.

Mr. Choi gets his hand flat on your lower belly and presses down on it, feeling himself bulge inside you. He moves his hips slowly, his cockhead dragging across your sweetspot, while he gutters, “you’d look so sexy as a mother, don’t you think, baby? With the tummy and all.”

“S- sir, please I–”

"Come on, do you think I don’t have enough money to pay for a fucking kid? God, how fucking annoying– I’m not that kind of man, baby,” Mr Choi growls, his voice vibrating against your cheek, as he charges his forehead deeper against yours, “I still got some honor.”

You shake your head, unsure whether there are pills for after in the pharmacies, or whether the mafiaboss will really be there to be with you as he promises, but Mr. Choi continues to beg in his low breathy, guttery voice. “Baby,” he rumbles, pressing even harder on your abdomen, your ass being pushed into the handrail that you’re sure it’s going to leave one red straight mark, and his cock is almost exploding from the edge, “Let me, no, let daddy cum into your tight cunt, baby, please.”

God, he wants you. He wants you so bad, doesn’t he?

"Y- you should see yourself," you chuckle, stroking over Mr. Choi's gelled hair, and his head tilts up a little bit as your fingers get tangled in his black locks, the white of his eyes making him look like a wild dog waiting for its treat. "F-fucking do it, you fucking slut."

"Fuck, baby," he laughs, out of breath, "You’re really a price."

Mr. Choi hammers his hips into you, until the stars in front of you all look like wishes falling from the sky. Both of you feel it, how his cock just feels so right, fits in like your cunt is a fucking glove which is full and getting even fuller.

"God, fuck," Mr. Choi grunts from the bottom of his throat, his hot cum lading into you, and it's like your lower body is melting with it, becoming heavier with every drop he's unloading inside.

"Take all of my fucking cum," he husks and your faces clash together for one finishing wild kiss. Mr. Choi sucks on your lower lip, as he fucks his ejaculation deeper and deeper into your hole with slow thrusts, until he bucks up his pelvis the last time and moans out a raspy, “perfect fucking missy with a perfect fucking cunt..."

Ding!

For a man that uses his mouth so sparingly, his tongue surely works wonders.

"Sir, are you—"

Headman Park has entered the elevator without a word, pulling off his leather gloves, and with Mr. Choi stepping away, he has all the place he requires to get on his knees and throw your leg over his shoulder, his wet and warm muscle delving into your throbbing cunt. You've been bereaved of the time to inspect what was behind or around him when the door closed, but maybe that's irrelevant anyways. What is relevant, is how impatient, but also how careful the CEO remains, and how he still tries his best to slowly sift his tongue into your folds, feeling every inch of your wetness. He’s been dying to do this.

"Fuck, sir!"

"Please," the CEO chuckles, hastily pulling the black leathery from his hands to put it back in his briefcase that he's been carrying, but he doesn't miss your cunt once, purling over your clit and glancing at you. "Call me Seonghwa, princess."

You could cum right here and there, just at the sight of this pretty man looking up to you, who has laid out his first name and put it into yours, scream it out loud until everyone hears what a princess you've been made of.

Princess. You knew his eyes were different, but you didn’t know they saw the world differently too. Oh, how you wish you could see more of his world.

"Aww, what? That's why you're still a foreigner in our country, brother! 'Can't be dropping our titles," Mr. Choi huffs and lights himself a second cigarette, filling the elevator with smoke and tobacco. How his breath really doesn't smell is questionable to you.

Just like you, the CEO, or how you're allowed to call him now— Seonghwa, ignores his partner's words, laps over your clit with his tongue, gently easing into your cunt with his clean fingers, and your soft sighs are like a reward for him, for whatever he's done outside.

"Respect, brother, 's all about respect..."

You tighten your thighs around Seonghwa's neck. The charcoal-haired has closed his eyes, sighing into the taste of you, and you are flawlessly overlooking the loud mafiaboss, just completely concentrating on the commitment the CEO is eating you out with. His head fits magically between your legs, he works his fingers so flawlessly into you, this must be fate— and if it's not, you're going to make it your future in any which way possible. You're falling. No, flying; never coming down.

"Seonghwa," you whine, and your hand glides over the hooked male's forehead, his hair feeling smooth under your touch as he presses his tongue slowly— in circular motion— against your clit to keep you on the high, but not in a way that would make you trip over.

"Mmf," the mafiaboss in front of you huffs, clearly attracted, enticed by the way you've exhaled the other male’s first name, scratching his temple with the fingers that are holding his cigarette.

"Whether you wanna call me San or 'daddy', baby," the scarred male, no, San, the fucker grins, "I'm gonna be hearing both either way."

"Fuck—", you moan out, having to take a breath because of how Seonghwa has curled his fingers into you with his tongue ready to shovel anything into his mouth that comes out, "you, fuckhead!"

The CEO is giggling a bit, finding your tone very amusing— and he tries to tell you this by looking up and slanting his eyes a friendly way, no, a way that you've never even conjured up the fantasy to perceive him, the cold-faced Park Seonghwa who hasn't drunk a drop of alcohol tonight. What pureness in a man...

"I liked 'fat-cat' better,” San snickers and goes through his hair that definitely needs combing, turning around and looking at himself through the mirror, though his eyes squint towards Seonghwa's reflection on the other side, now again lost in your cunt, taking off his jacket and folding it in half behind his back.

"Brother, you're eating my cum, by the way," the mafiaboss jabs, puffing out smoke while he's decidedly getting hard again in his trousers. San really can't hide his emotions on his face, can he? His lips are pursed, eyebrows slightly pulled in— how obvious. The man is jealous and doesn't want to admit it, you're sure of it.

"Shut up," you hiss, having become a bit comfortable with teasing the frustrated, outwitted mafiaboss. Ten minutes were definitely too little for him, but you've already rid his thigh, let him cum inside, and Seonghwa is simply too good with his tongue right now.

"Fuuuck," you whisper, and feel every drowsy twirl of his finger inside you, but it's slow, so slow, Seonghwa is swerving around every sponginess inside you, savoring the contraction of your inner space, and how your muscles tighten, when he licks over your clit, he enjoys this; enjoys you.

And so it continues, Park Seonghwa exploring every detail of your cunt as if he's a sommelier tasting the rarest of fluids, appreciating every drop that lands on his tongue, his fingers making sure that they don't go to waste.

"Shit," San comments, "I should've eaten her out, too."

The CEO is not cocky about it, about the way you are grabbing into his hair and squirming, how he has to slightly lift you up so you don't fall from your position. And then, when Seonghwa thinks your taste has perfectly coated his palate, speeds up.

"Fuck, sir," and the title slips out of you, like a habit you can't change for good when you feel so small. The CEO between your legs doesn't mind it though, at least doesn't say anything on it and just lets his fingers hit your sweet spot until there is a distinctive "Seonghwa" leaving sighed out your lips.

"I'm going to—", you announce, but the male has been long aware of it, preparing himself more access by bending his upper body to angle himself across your cunt, giving his partner a better view on how you glisten in arousal.

San in front of you is standing frozen, with his cigarette slowly burning out in his mouth, and you recompense the lack of his cock in your cunt by moaning louder, so your voice can vibrate around his erection. He grins and gets a tongue to his canine tooth, naked upper body still glowing in sweat, muscles shining, cock twitching every time he hears you breathe, and breathe more intensely, "make me cum, Seonghwa, please!"

"I knew you would taste delicious," Seonghwa murmurs, silently, rather for himself, and this must be how he sounds when he's drunk, because he is so high on your taste, "but this is ambrosial, princess."

You curl up your pelvis, and Seonghwa holds you by your hips, as his tongue picks up in speed, drawing out every word he hasn't spoken tonight on your labia, stamping them into your clit, all the while his fingers row in more and every last drop.

"C- coming~", you purr, and your eyes close down, your hands deep in Seonghwa's scalp, exhaling the weight of your worries, that flushes down into the man who seems to have none in his life, and he breathes into your hot cunt through his nose, not letting go of it until he's made sure that your hips tremble around his head. "P- please, f- fuck, fuck, feels so good—"

Pumping the remaining come into you, Seonghwa licks up your cunt and kisses your clit until you go completely flaccid, your arms giving in, but Seonghwa catches you by your hand, kissing your thigh with his swollen pink lips.

With your body relaxed, your ass feels a bite sore, having been prodded into the iron rail for so long. You grab into Seonghwa's hand and try to push yourself up, but ultimately fail at getting yourself into a more comfortable position.

"San, hold her."

"Huh?", he asks, "'Need something more snuggly, baby? Or what did you call her again, brother?"

"Princess," the CEO answers immediately and you have to suppress a girly giggle, as Seonghwa turns his head around, lips still pressed against your thigh. He presumably sends San an admonitory look to hurry up, and gets up from his knees.

The mafiaboss shrugs, not offended by being ordered around. He puts out the cigarette against the mirror and cracks his neck by rolling his head around, his thick neck dousing into your sight as he does so. He's so intimidating, you think, but he's on his way to coast those monster-arms behind your back, hands down to each of your hamstrings to, "up you go," pick you up like real royalty. The giggle escapes your mouth but you don't feel the slightest embarrassed nor do you have a reason to be. You are sunken deep into San’s cushiony arms— his muscles make for a great seat, and hovering, air hitting your hot cunt, as your legs spread for the CEO in front of you when you fall into the elbows. You yelp, but the giggles just keep coming, making San in the mirror in front of you wink at you, cackling, "you like that, princess?"

Seonghwa smiles, satisfied by your enjoyment of this position and approaches you once more. "I have yet to kiss you, Y/N," he says with his sweet voice, and his gentle hands find your chin and waist, your eyes blossoming open for him to stare into.

Even San shuts up now, and you suppose he is too taking part in the beauty that is the embrace of you and Seonghwa; two sets of lips, crazing each other, meeting for one flowery affair, breathing out small vapors of life. You can taste yourself, which means that Seonghwa is fully consumed by your aroma.

God, you think again, your cunt tingling at how Seonghwa tugs at his tie, pulling it side to side as he kisses you— the golden 'π'-pin clanks shrill to the floor— everything about Seonghwa is so...

Clean?

You are inhaling the mellow smell of his satiny skin, and the CEO unbuttons his shirt with proficient, skilfull flicks of his fingers. He is so handsome, handsomely pretty, and even when it’s drenched in your fluids, his skin shines on its own, like Seonghwa has a light shining within. Once you can see his bare chest and get lost on the smooth surface, your eyes dive down, admiring his slim, yet very muscular physique.

Seonghwa gets his tie and drags off his shirt by tugging at one sleeve with his hand, the white fabric revealing the rest of body with one clean pull that matches one of the curtains.

"W-", and you have to jump back with your head to get the full spectacle that's presented in front of you, exhaling in awe— "Wow.."

"Not so blank, our brother, is he?", San chuckles from behind of you and lowers his head to press his chin against your temple, surveying the same sight.

Two colossal, monstrous dragons, red and black, are colliding, looped, entangled all around Seonghwa's right arm, fighting for dominance on his skin. The raven hydra has its jaw wide open where Seonghwa looks to his shoulder with a rather shy smile once he sees your reaction, baring its teeth towards his heart, while the crimson dragon ends at the CEO's wrist, sitting on top of his pulse.

"Would you believe me it was brother's idea, baby?"

"As if," Seonghwa murmurs, folding his shirt into a square.

San chuckles again, re-shuffling himself and pressing your back close to his stomach, granting the back of your head to rest at his collarbone. "I asked her if she would believe, brother."

You watch the delicate lines, the elegant strokes of tint meeting on his skin, but while your first impression made you believe they carried a certain viciousness with their svelte bodies, the second sight presents you a different image of two forces maneuvering into each other as a reminder that they both co-exist as supreme. It's not one another they're reviling against, it's the bearer of the both who is threatened by their fangs. Their existence is a warning reminder, but also a sign of pride.

"I believe it's... beautiful."

“Aw, you’re so sweet, baby.”

You haven't seen many tattoos in your life, none in the mountains, and even in the city the only observable tattoos were those of the sleazy guys in alleys that wait when you're done with your job to gape at your uniform. They got tigers and other animals roaring on their bodies to hide the fact they don't have the fighting skills to keep up, but for Seonghwa, a CEO, to have this amount of ink under his skin is a commitment and to imagine he’s hiding that under his ironed shirt and black jacket, no, that you are seeing it right now, it’s… You’re overwrought, steamed up, aflame.

"Wanna touch it, baby?", San asks, and you nod eagerly. Seonghwa chuckles, “Go for it.”

You let your fingertip ghost over the dragons' scales, tailing their curvature. Goosebumps form on Seonghwa's arm and his hand finds its way to your head, stroking your cheek, as you meet the red beast's eyes.

The mafiaboss whispers, almost sentimentally, "No blood or tears."

Another expression, which proves to you that the tattoo was undoubtedly his idea, but you see it, the romance that is spoken from the male's skin, regardless of the little insight you have on both of them. Loyalty, reverence, creed, a belief and a duty, and before you know it, you want Seonghwa to enwrap you with his arms and never let you go, which he does.

His slender hand cloaks the left side of your head, and he pulls himself into a kiss, while he unbuckles his belt with his other hand.

You don't know how much you understand of this situation, no, you don't know how much you want to understand of this situation.

You've been on your own. That's all you ever had after you left home: Your body and soul, the windstorms of the mountains pushing you from the back to keep going, and you've lived your best life living for yourself that way, in bliss, in ignorance— in peace, but what is peace in a place where you can't move by yourself? In a world that’s maimed by the rich, and sure, it may be that you’ve chosen your path, but you were never walking a road that was yours, always trailing behind something.

Nameless, that’s what you thought you would need to be.

Your monks wanted to be called their title like everyone else, it would have been disrespectful to ask Lady Kim for hers which you now regret, and not even as a secret did your old man tell you his name, but you— you, Y/N, you have a name and you want to scream it, live it as loud as you can, hear it echo back with a volume that feels stronger when it rings back.

You could have settled on being acknowledged by your supervisor to earn some good money, but this is what you’re here for, aren’t you? Why you trusted your gut to stick to the scary men? Why you walked to them with confident steps, even when a nervous knot was forming together inside you? Did you go as what, an act of defiance? One of independence? To prove yourself that you were still standing on your own feet?

"Speaking of, brother..."

Yes, with no shame.

"You really enjoyed yourself back there, didn’t you?”, San asks. “Didn’t expect that from you.”

Seonghwa is kissing you down your breast, observing closely how you breathlessly react to his tongue twirling around your nipple.

"You left me no other chance," the older male hums, coating your circular buds with his saliva, bringing out your heavenly sighs every chance he gets, stroking himself to the sounds of your pleasure.

"Well, I would have made sure you still fucked her, brother."

“Sure,” Seonghwa lisps and positions his cockhead at your entrance. 

You try to grab San's shoulder behind you, as the male pushes himself inside, and your torso rotates to the side with your eyebrows pulling together, your cunt being spread apart.  “F-fuck,” you exhale, and Seonghwa kisses the corner of your lip to soothe you. Your cunt squelches around his cock and your hips roll by themselves, wanting to take more of his length.

"Shit, look at her go," the mafiaboss woos, "Fuck yourself out, brother."

"Think you’ll miss this?", Seonghwa snickers and it must be the first question he has asked today. “Y- yeah, you will!”, you snap, feeling eager to be acknowledged for how good your cunt wraps around his throbbing heat. 

“Oh, princess,” the CEO laughs, and your stomach drops because of how pretty his laughter sounds, and he caresses your cheek, only making your confusion and desire to finally uncover what the two men have obviously been keeping from you grow bigger. You don’t want to say it abruptly, but you three are naked, in a confined space, skins pressed against each other, so you believe you’re worth some type of explanation– or are you not?

“C- can you tell me what’s going to happen?”, you whine, and Seonghwa moves his hips, grabbing you by your waist to get his whole length. “Are you, fuck, going to leave me?”

“I dunno, brother, you call it,” San mutters. “It was your plan.”

“D- don’t!”

“It’s barely my plan anymore,” Seonghwa breathes, bucking his pelvis in, his cockhead being sucked in by your sensitive cunt.

“Don’t leave me!”

“You needed a distraction, brother, I got you one.”

“No,” Seonghwa chuckles, but in his heat, he kisses you and glances up at San while his tongue brushes against your lip. “But I’ll admit she saved us some jail-time, San.”

They continue talking over your pleas, and though you would have loved to ask a second time how the night was going to end, your brain has started to give into the pleasure once San folds your legs together, holding you by your hamstrings, giving Seonghwa an easier angle to fuck you senseless. 

“F- fu-huuck,” you breathe out, and your eyes are disappearing behind your molten, droopy eyelids, with Seonghwa cumming for the second time on your abdomen and cleaning it up with his handkerchief, and you don’t even know when it was, that San crammed out his cock   again, but you can definitely feel the difference of his girth, when he re-enters your used cunt, your legs shakily landing on the floor. They feel wobbly, your thighs having gone loose, and the mafiaboss has to hold you by your arms behind your back to support you.

“Can’t take it anymore, baby?”, San whispers into your ear, and his voice is low, very low, you don’t know how much time has passed since you could make out any of his words, but it feels like you’re back here, in the elevator, and Seonghwa is putting on his belt again.

“I c- can!”, you manage to whine out, not wanting the night to end, not wanting to return to your small apartment, not wanting these two to be gone from your life. “I can!”, you repeat yourself, when San lets out a mockful cackle. “You’re not going to fucking leave me here, San!”

“Who said anything about leaving you here, baby?”, he asks you, and he does mean his confusion, but the sarcastic undertone makes you desperate grow desperate. San frowns. “What did I tell you, baby?”

“You aren’t telling me shit, San!”, you sob, and his cock running through you prevents you from finding a braver voice, his two hands find your wrists to bind them together in his grip. “Aren’t you such a smartie,” he growls into your ear, hot air hitting your dissolving ear.

“Brother,” San calls out, and the addressed man is busy opening up his briefcase, getting on his knee. “I’m still waiting on you, y’know.”

“If you had stuck to the plan, th–” Seonghwa murmurs, but the mafiaboss falls into his word. “Then we would have fuckin’ send the bitch to prison and someone else would have him killed him, but there! You know I didn’t come with the fucking patience for that, brother! Geezer was getting on my fucking nerves.”

Killed?

“And don’t you talk back now,” San warns, “It was you who killed all of ‘em, so you figure out how you’re going to carry that one out.”

Killed?

“You already know how I’m going to carry this out.” Seonghwa smirks. “But you’re stopping me, San.”

“Augh, brother, you’re too sober for your own sake!” San’s cock is too deep in your cunt and your body is too much in his control for you to stop moaning like a bitch, but in your head, you’re puzzling together tonight’s happenings.

Expensive whiskey. Ice cubes. Ten minutes, gunshots, black leather gloves– “killed.”

Oh, Y/N.

“What did you do with the chairman, Seonghwa?”, you moan out, feeling how the mafiaboss is ramming himself into you at a sloppy, greedy pace, prolonging how much he can be inside you before he comes again, and you don’t know whether his heavy breathing can cover up the silence that it takes for the CEO to react to your question.

Seonghwa is still kneeled on the floor, when he rotates his head, smiling, his eyebrows pushed up. “What do you think I did?” His second question of the day.

“I- I,” you stutter, but San shakes his head, and interrupts you with his voice still loose from the alcohol, “you really don’t know how to keep up a good mood, brother!”, grabbing you by your chin and yanking your head up. “Lemme make my baby cum first!”

You can’t see Seonghwa anymore. You can barely see anything anymore, you’re counting your fifth or sixth orgasm of the night, cunt growing hotter with each time San thrusts into it, and with your breath being cut off, you slowly feel your arms lose their responsibility, tingling up from where your wrists are crossed behind your back. His cockhead is flaying against your g-spot and your thighs tremble at how used you’re being, eyes falling in, throat feeling tied up.

“S- San,” you manage to cough out, back arching for your final cry of pleasure, and San grins, letting go of your wrists, which makes you immediately fall to the front, finding safety against the mirror with both of your hands. He smacks his hands against your ass and lunges into you until your whole breast is pushed against the cold wall. 

“Come on, baby, come for me,” San roars, and you wail, tired, exhausted, feeling the orgasm drown you like another wave in the ocean of bliss you’ve been swimming in, whining out, “coming, coming for you, San!”

The mafiaboss presses himself against your back, his silver cross being imprinted into your neck, as he unloads himself, his last drops of hot cum overflowing out of you. “Fucking slut… So fucking good…”

He kisses your jaw repeatedly and looks at how tiredly closed your eyes are in the mirror, cooing “aww, baby.” San strokes away a strand of hair and gets himself off your body, pulling out. “You look like you need some sleep, baby.”

You are trying to catch your breath, grabbing the handrail to hold yourself up, as it sounds like San is putting on his shirt again. They’re gonna fucking leave you here, aren’t they? Leave you here in the elevator with the– with the fucking bankrolls on the floor of the fucking men you fucking– Oh god… Keep breathing, Y/N. Keep on breathing.

“I mean all I’m saying… you know… lobsters and crabs are friends, pal.”

What the fuck is he on again…

“You’re making this hard on yourself.”

“I’m not doing anything, just sayin’ that she just grew on me, that’s all.”

Your legs tremble, as you try straightening them to stand up and see what the two are scheming again, but as you turn your body around, ass against the handrail again, you hear a very unfamiliar clicking in front of your forehead area which is not coming out of San’s mouth.

“You’ve grown soft. That’s what you did.”

“Ahhh, fuck you, brother.”

“Pathetic.”

You see a hole, and it also doesn’t take you long to see Seonghwa ready to pull the trigger, the mafiaboss leaning into the corner of the elevator, arms crossed, looking at you with an unlit cigarette in his mouth, pressing the button that leads to the lobby.

The night is over.

“A- are you going to– oh my g-god, are you going to kill me…?”

“Yes, princess.”

Your heart is going to burst, you could puke out so many words right now, but you don’t know what to do. You don’t want to die, not when you felt so fucking alive– you– fuck, you should feel sorry that your coworkers that they didn’t deserve to go the same way as the asswipes did, because you’ve long realised that the bangs were their skulls being crushed by the bullets, but at the same time you couldn’t care any fucking less about them right now. You just have to survive, that was the only thing that mattered since the very beginning. This is about your life. Your precious fucking life.

“Ah…”

Your body is too weak to hyperventilate, but your brain is working overtime. Do you run? Attack them? No…

Seonghwa hasn’t moved an inch away from your face, and you take it upon yourself to raise your hand and slowly push the cold, black gun to the side, so you can look him in his eyes, but he forces it back there.

“Please don’t kill me… I can do so much for you! I– I,” you stutter, trying to gather all the knowledge your monks have taught you. “I– I’ll do anything! You– you saw me, didn’t you? I have– I’ve been told I have a talent for serving! I– I can do anything, please, I beg you, just…”

You fall to your knees, and they burn on the glassy floor, your hands folded in front of your abdomen. 

“Just please, let me live…”

You’re not greedy. You’ve only taken what you were given, and tonight, you’ve been given so much. Too much? No, it couldn’t be…

“Brother.”

There are tears flowing down your eyes, and you feel so sorry for yourself. You miss your old monk, and hope that you may be reincarnated to a butterfly that he can admire, just so that he can look at you with his adoring eyes again. So someone can want the best for you once in your life–

“Brother?”

So anyone can finally love you for once in your life.

next part coming soon... series masterlist | main masterlist

[ilwonuu]

AHHHH IVE JUST FINISHED READING UR FIRST TIME WITH YEOSANG AND THE SAN VERSION!!! I AM IN LOVEEEE WITH THIS!!! I was also wondering if you could do a Jun version of this since I saw u also write for Seventeen! 🩷

oh my gosh thank you so much!! i’m so happy you enjoyed them,,,i would love to do a jun version,,,lmk what you think and thank you for requesting <3

first time

·.༄࿔ wen junhui

ೀ pairing- established relationship, nonidol!jun x fem!reader, softdom!jun x sub!reader

ೀ warnings- smut with no plot, fluff!!!, first time, dry humping, making out, slight blood, unprotected sex(he pulls out), dirty talk, pet names(angel,baby), jun is a sweetheart<3, they take a bath together after, they say i love you for the first time (yuck), lmk what else!!!

ೀ a/n- i was having WAY too much fun writing this. where’s my jun at 🙂

you and jun have never rushed into anything in your relationship. you met him a few years ago but only started dating him for 5 months. you two didn’t get intimate until 2 months into your relationship. you have gave him a couple handjobs, gave him head a couple times. he’s more shy about what he does to you but he has always offered which you agreed. he was quick to offer to eat you out once before which you both enjoyed very much. the casual fingers in between your legs as you two watch a movie. jun was shy but he wasn’t scared to not do it.

he’s had sex before. that made you a little nervous but you were ready. you two were making out in your shared bedroom. his hands were on your hips as you started to grind against him. his hands are big against your waist. you are already drunk on your boyfriends touch. “you’re so pretty.” he says in between kisses. “j-jun.” you moan out as he starts to move your hips faster against him. you throw your head back in pleasure when he starts kissing your neck.

“jun- p-please i need you to fuck me.” he pulls away from your neck to look at you. “what- are you sure?” you nod as you grind against him harder. “y-yes junnie- i need you so bad- i’ve been thinking about it so much.” you look at him nervously. “fuck- i need you to but i want to make sure you’re 100% sure.” he holds your waist tighter as you continue to move. “i’m so sure- i want you so bad jun.” you moan as you feel him get harder underneath you.

“okay- tell me if you start feeling unsure.” he smiles at you as he pulls you to kiss him. he hands are touching you softly. the fabric of your underwear and your boyfriends sweatpants being the only thing keeping you from each other. “i’m g-gonna cum jun.” your moans get louder as he helps guide you against him. “yea? cum for me. you’re so good for me love.” his voice so close to your ear sending shivers down your spine. “j-jun.” you cry out as your legs lightly shake.

“i know angel, feels so good. let go for me.” he leaves open kisses against your neck and your jaw. you move your hips with juns hands a couple more times as you come undone. “feels so good angel.” he whispers into your neck as you slowly move through your high. “you’re the prettiest thing.” he smiles at you innocently.

“can you fuck me please j-jun?” you sigh as you start to climb off his lap.

“i’ll give you whatever you want my love.” he moves off the bed as you lay back. “you’re so perfect.” he moves your panties down your legs in a swift motion causing you to blush. “gonna make you feel so good. god i can’t believe this is all for me.” he kisses your thighs as he smiles softly at you. his hands snake to your thighs as spread your legs a little. you reach down to take off your white knee high socks that he got for you but he stops you.

“keep them on you look cute.” you smile and nod as you’re left in just your (his) loose t shirt and your socks. “you don’t even know how crazy you’re making me right now. i’m so hard.” all of that shyness that jun is usually full with is gone when you’re alone and now you’re under him? he’s surprised he hasn’t came in his pants yet. your look so beautiful to him.

“jun hurry- i’m impatient.” he leans down to kiss you quickly before pulling his sweatpants. he wasn’t wearing any underwear so he easily pulled them off his legs. he moved in between yours legs before looking up at you. “are you sure you want this?” you nod grabbing his arms. “i need you jun.” you smile to yourself as you look at your boyfriend. you mentally thank yourself for taking his shirt off him earlier.

“okay okay.” he smiles at you before lining up with you. you suck in a breath as you look down between you. you feel him slowly push in looking up at you. your face scrunches in pain as he stills. “you okay baby?” he kisses your face trying to comfort you. “y-yea just feels a little weird- keep going.” you sigh as you try to relax your body. he pushes in a little more still not bottoming out yet. you knew jun was big but him being inside you- he just felt so much bigger. you whine a little at the slow pace. jun pushes in fully finally bottoming out.

“tell me when baby. i don’t want to hurt you love.” you nod as your try to not focus on the pain. “j-jun i think you can move.” he kisses your lips again as he slowly starts to move his hips. “jun- feels- fuck so good.” you don’t even remember the pain you felt shortly before.

“f-fuck i know angel. you’re so t-tight.” he groans as you nod with his words. his thrusts are slow because he’s scared ro hurt you. “faster j-jun.” you moan as you spread your legs a little wider. “s-shit are you sure love?“ he looks down at you a little. “p-please.” his hips start to speed up making your body jolt more. he grabs the shirt you’re wearing pushing it up so he can see your chest.

“you’re so pretty- fuck you’re taking it so good.” he groans as he watches your tits bounce with his thrusts. “j-jun- oh my god-“ you throw your head back as his mouth attaches to one of your nipples. his thrusts are quick but he’s making sure to be gentle with you. “you look so pretty like this. i’m gonna cum- can i come on your chest? please.” you nod as you feel yourself get closer to coming.

“jun- r-right there. f-feels so good.” your eyes shut as you melt into the pleasure. you cum hard under your boyfriend with a loud moan. “j-jun-“ he kisses your cheek. “fuck- love i’m coming.” he leans down to pull you into another kiss as he pulls out of you. he strokes himself a couple more times before he’s coming all over your chest. you whine at the unfamiliar feeling. he smiles at you as he kisses you again. “are you okay angel?” he asks you as he grabs something to clean you with.

“j-jun i think- there’s blood.” you look at him in slight fear as you see red in between your legs. “angel- let me get a bath ready for us. are you okay?” he asks you as you cleans you as gentle as ever. “y-yea i don’t feel pain or anything just scared me.” he nods as he runs to the bathroom starting a bath for you. he quickly comes back to your side as he helps you into the bathroom. you admit to feeing a little sore.

“i’m so sorry angel- was i not being gentle enough?” he helps you take your remaining clothes. he helps you into the bath before he climbs in behind you. he rubs your back as you sigh into his touch. “jun- no you were perfect. it was all perfect i just scared myself.” you lean back into his chest as cups water over you.

“okay- let’s just relax for the rest of the night yea? i got you my love.” he smiles as he rubs your thighs softly. “jun- i love you.” you blurt out breaking the short silence. he looks at you shocked but his expression quickly changed to a very happy one. “i love you even more.” he kisses your head holding you close in his arms.

[demoniofleur10]

Warnings: first night after marriage so yeah very steamy, soft sex, a little rough, softdom! Sanemi, Y/n having an abusive past (ex husband)

After the celebration, Sanemi and Y/n headed home. To his home. Now neither Sanemi needed to beg for permission from Kocho to take his girl with him, nor did Y/n need to shoo Sanemi away from her bedroom; because they were no together.

As they stepped into the house, Sanemi hesitated for a moment, seeking Y/n's silent approval. When she gave him a gentle smile, he returned it warmly before slipping his arms beneath her knees and around her back, effortlessly lifting her into his embrace. He carried her inside, their smiles reflecting the newfound closeness they shared.

He carried her to his room, all the while gazing into the girl's eyes with his lavender orbs filled with a mix of love and lust. He slided the door to his room open, with his one hand, and closed it behind him.

He gently placed her on the futon and sat beside her. He cupped her cheek and drew soft circles on her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

Sanemi opened his mouth to speak but words didn't seem to draw out of his mouth. A lump was forming in his throat and the more he tried to get rid of it, the more overwhelmed he felt. His heart raced in his rib cage and he felt like he had so many things to say but nothing came to his mouth.

"I know Sanemi san--" She started, gulping down the lump forming in her own throat, "--I feel so blessed to have you, to have met you. If I hadn't found you then I wouldn't have ever found a family like the demon slayer corps; I wouldn't have known how to love and be loved in fact, I would've been dead by now..." her voice broke and she stared up at Sanemi with her moist gaze before encircling her arms around his neck and hugging him dearly.

She nuzzled her nose against the crook of his neck, sniffling silently feeling grateful to have this man in her life.

"You are the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me, Sanemi san." She whispered, causing Sanemi to widen his eyes. His hands moved quickly around her waist and pulled her closer to himself.

He squeezed her waist as his eyes glossed with tears.

She was his.

Swallowing hard, he smiled to himself before pulling away from the girl only to slip his fingers under her chin, ever so softly, to make her look up at him.

"Kiss me." He demanded and she blushed over his words but cupped his cheeks with her hands tenderly, closing the gap between them by placing her a loving kiss on his lips.

The kiss was filled with an overwhelming sense of love and need. Y/n slowly wrapped her arms around his neck, while he shrugged his haori off, letting it fall from his shoulders before wrapping his strong muscular arms around her waist, pulling her closer until she was straddling his lap, their lips never parting.

His hands would occasionally roam all over her back before going back to envelop around her waist.

He pulled away when she gently pushed on his shoulder to gasp some air into her lungs while she was flushed red.

He gently placed a soft tender kiss on her cheek, his throat bobbed before his opened his mouth to speak,

"Did he ever have sex with you before that?" He carefully asked, searching in her eyes for any signs of discomfort from his question.

"No." She replied as she stole glances on his face. She would never have let that bastard of a guy touch her because she had seen him sleep with other girls to taunt her. Each time, it felt like a dagger being twisted in her heart.

"Good, he doesn't deserve this beauty, he doesn't deserve you." He whispered as he swiftly placed the girl on the futon with her back sinking into the soft quilt of the futon. She blushed at his words but her blush deepened as she watched him remove his kimono, leaving him only in his hakama pants. His muscular toned body was a scene to behold.

How beautiful and breathtaking was he.

She could feel something stir between her thighs and she needed something to lessen that burning sensation. She pressed her thighs together to stop that feeling but it only heightened.

Sanemi smirked at her writhing, shivering and needy form. His eyes lustfully watched her thighs rub together only fueling his lust for her.

He hovered her smaller frame and placed another tender kiss on her cheek.

"Can I undress you?" He whispered against her ear, his breath hot, nipping on the shell of her ear, causing the girl to inhale sharply before she nodded a yes.

He pulled away and began loosening her obi belt, half way being helped by the girl herself, before he finally pulled it off her and then the remaining of her kimono leaving her in her undies.

His eyes roamed to every inch of her, drinking in her beauty before he leaned closer to her, his presence a protective and passionate shield.

"You're so beautiful and mine." He whispered into her ear before going back to kiss her on her lips. His lips locking with hers in a feverish manner and it was becoming quite a difficult job for the girl to keep up with his pace.

His hand slowly travelled to fondle with her breast earning a muffled moan from the girl, taking this chance he shoved his tongue into the girl's mouth, exploring every inch of her. Tears stung in the corner of her eyes as she moaned and gasped against the white head's mouth who wouldn't pry away from her.

His hands squeezed her mound, occasionally pinching and twirling her hardened bud between his fingers before he pulled away from the kiss only to attack her neck to leave his marks.

His hands wandered everywhere on her body, from the softness of her inner thighs to her supple breasts and then back to her waist. He would grab her waist or her hips and squeeze them before going back to roaming his hands on the expanse of her body, caressing every part of her in equal love and lust.

"You're so beautiful, so gorgeous." He groaned as he pulled away to stare at the marks he gave her before going back into the valley of her breasts, placing tender wet kisses there before taking one of her hardened bud in his mouth. She shivered, a low breathy moan drawing out of her mouth while she squirmed underneath him and he couldn't suppress a low groan. Her taste was better than what he had always thought it would be.

"All mine." He claimed before going back to sucking the other bud, scraping his teeth over the sensitive peak, earning another whimper from the girl. She arched her back, pushing her mound more into him, to which he smirked. He released the bud with a wet pop, lifting his head to gaze at the girl whose eyes stinged with tears and her cheeks were wet.

This sent another rush of blood to his already hard throbbing dick, earning low curse from the back of his throat.

He didn't want to waste anymore time now, so he caressed the girl's waist before travelling his hand to draw circles on wet spot on her panty, eliciting a moan from the girl. She arched her back on the contact and tears slipped down from the corner of her eyes.

"P-please~" She whimpered, pulling Sanemi by his shoulders and bringing him close to her, before closing the gap between them by placing a kiss on his lips, his cock twitching to be buried inside her.

He kissed her while still running his fingers up and down her wet panty before travelling down to grab the softness of her inner thighs.

He pulled away and tugged at the band of her panty while searching for her eyes, so when she smiled gently at him and nodded her head, he smiled back before placing a soft kiss on her neck while pulling down her panty and shoving it away.

She shivered as the cold air of the room hit her heated flesh, earning a breath moan from the girl. Sanemi went down on her, kissing her inner thighs before bringing his thumb to play with her clit, earning a train of moans from her.

She arched her back as he rubbed tight circles on her pearl, eliciting chants of his name; a sweet music to his ears.

His mouth watered on the sight of her gushing cunt, but his own arousal was becoming a problem.

He slipped his hands underneath her thighs and pushed them against her chest to expose more of her to him. He inhaled a sharp breath as he stared at the girl who was now nicely sprawled out infornt of his hungry eyes.

An unknown possessiveness lit in his chest, but at the same time, his heart swelled with the thought that she was so vulnerable and pretty only for him and in front of his eyes.

He marveled at the way her teary eyes stared back at him with that deep blush painting her cheeks. It stirred something deep within him, a fierce protectiveness coupled with an overwhelming pride. Her reaction was everything he hadn't realized he wanted, a silent promise that this moment, this closeness, was meant for them alone.

"Fucking mine." He groaned yet again, earning a breathy hum and a clench from her cunt, which pleaded for attention.

He smirked before pulling down his own hakama pants and the remaining of his clothing leaving him completely bare. His cock sprung out, finally free from the restrains of his hakama pants.

He pumped his cock a few times before shuffling a bit closer to rest the length of his cock on the smooth plane of her stomach. He groaned seeing how tiny she was. His cock almost reached her sternum, the sight earning another low possessive groan from him.

"Will it fit?" She asked meekly, her cheeks flushed as she squirmed underneath him, the heaviness of his cock on her stomach making her yearn for more.

"I'll make it fit and for now I'll use just the tip, hm?" He ensured, pulling away his member before getting it to her gushing cunt. He rubbed the head of his length against her walls and over to her clit as he watched the girl shiver underneath him.

Then, He slowly pushed himself, bringing himself to slowly hunch self over her body so that he could hold her as close to himself as possible.

He murmured sweet nothings and praises upon hearing her muffled sobs as he pushed his length into her.

"Just the tip, hm?" He murmured against her neck, thrusting slowly and stopping mid way so that she adjusted to his wide girth.

"That— is t-that jus-t you-ur tip?" She tried to frame a proper sentence despite the fact that she already was so stretched out with just his tip inside.

He did say he would only enter the tip, but his length was big so much that she already filled full, her walls getting stretched so nicely.

When he was sure that she had adjusted to his length, he began moving back and forth. Their pants and moans grew louder every passing second as he himself against hers. But he soon pulled out, heavily breathing out while the girl whined at the loss.

He groaned before pushing his entire length into her, earning a moanful scream of his name. She dug her nails into his back and his bicep as she held onto him for her dear life. Tears escaped her eyes but she didn't feel any pain, in fact she felt better than before. More full and more stretched out.

This man was going to be the death of her.

"I can't--shit--let me fuck you with my entire length." He groaned, tears stinging his own eyes on the feeling of being completely inside and surrounded by the girl's warm and tight gummy walls.

He stared down at, his eyes moving from her tear stained face to her abdomen where he saw the imprint of his cock bulging through her stomach. His length was so big that he was already touching her cervix with just being completely inside her.

His eyes took in every inch of this beautiful sight, from her flushed cheeks, to her long hair which was sprawled beneath her, her chest which was heaving up and down while she gazed at him pleadingly with her shining with her teary eyes and the spot where they were connected.

She was definitely going to be the death of him.

"So fucking beautiful." He murmured more to himself while bringing his hand to caress her tear stained cheek, "and so fucking mine." He growled yet again before he began pumping in and out of her, slowly first and then picking up the pace. She dug her nails into his bicep, moaning his name as he pumped his entire shaft in and out of her gummy walls.

He hunched over again, his head coming to rest on her neck as he interwined his hand with hers, while he watched his cock disappear into her cunt and come back outside with a ring of her cum forming around his cock urging him to pound more quicker into her.

He could feel himself approaching his climax by how his girl was creaming over his cock and how she clenched around him indicating to him that she was close as well.

He pushed his weight on top of her, balancing himself with his forearm resting beside her head, while he brought his hand to cup her cheek, caressing her tears away. She immediately wrapped her arms around him, bringing him closer to pull him into another love filled kiss which grew desperate when Sanemi increased his pace. He travelled his other hand down to her sensitive bud and rubbed tight circles on it, earning muffled moans from her.

She writhed and shivered, her legs quivering as she neared her climax. Her eyes screwed shut when he fastened his pace more chasing his own climax. His breathy moans grew louder as slammed his hips into hers.

"C-cumm--" Y/n couldn't even form proper words, trying to stutter out before she moaned loudly as her orgasm tore through her and he knew he couldn't hold back any longer.

He thrusted deep into her pussy, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he came down, thick ropes of his cum spurting inside her cunt and painting all her walls in his name.

He pulled his cock out, watching as her juices mixed with his, dripped down her walls while she shivered from post climax.

Once he had calmed himself down from his own high, he carried the girl in his arms to the bathroom to clean her up before he gently placed her down on their futon and settled beside her.

"I love you, Sanemi san." She murmured sleepily while cuddling herself closer to him, before falling asleep right after. Sanemi smiled to himself, bringing the girl even closer to himself before covering their bodies with a blanket.

"I love you more, sweet."

[armpirate]

Kalla || Choi San

pairing: Choi San x fem!reader || Strangers

w.c.: 5.2k

Warnings: Smut, softdom!San x sub!reader, teasing, protected sex, soft bondage, tickler, dirty talk, rough sex, mentions of voyeurism, swingers and BDSM. If you're a minor, refrain from reading it. Also, if you don't like this content, just keep scrolling.

Summary: The calla lily has a fair amount of symbols related to it. And the owner of the hotel you were sent to work to chose to use the hidden lustful, sexy and sensual meaning of it.

You struggled with trying to do many things at the same time: getting the luggage out of the cab’s truck, all while trying to keep your Gucci bag still hanging on your arm, holding your phone against your ear, and trying to look as neat and professional as you could manage to. 

It was a challenge.

The fact that the cab driver didn’t even bother to get out of the vehicle to help you, and just limited himself to look through the rearview, pressuring you to end fast, was annoying you. Huffing once your things were out, and closing the truck as hard as you could, showing off your frustration, got you wondering if you’d have reacted the same way in any other circumstances. 

Back home, you were in the middle of moving out from the apartment you shared with your -now- ex boyfriend, all while processing that he chose to cheat on you the same day you needed support the most after being rejected for a project you were looking forward to. Yet the Marketing manager, and also your friend, thought it’d be a good idea to make you travel all the way from home to Seoul to get you to talk with a possible new client -that was planning to open a new hotel in London. 

“How was the flight?” Lizzie casually asked.

“Oh, it was great” you answered, the irony in your tone already getting your friend ready for your complaints. “Out of all the people in the plane, I was the only one who had a massage chair, which worked with the feet of a diabolic little kid” all the excitement that Lizzie built in mid sentence, dropped down as you finished up. 

It seemed like the universe was urging you to give up on everything you had ever wanted. Marriage? Your boyfriend cheated on you and destroyed the four-year relationship you two had. Family? If it wasn’t enough to see your brother’s wife lose her tiny bit of sanity because of your nephews, you kept crossing paths with kids and parents that made you reconsider that deep wish of ever starting a family. 

At that point, you only craved peace

You sighed, trying to regain some calmness that you seemed to have left at Heathrow. “Who is the client?”. You remembered his name was discussed in one of the meetings, but you were too distracted to pay enough attention -in your defense, you didn’t think that project would be yours anyway. 

“Kalla” was written in big, with neat letters, sophisticatedly brightened by white lights, that also allowed the dark golden borders to shine, over the big revolving door. 

Lizzie finally spoke again “He’s young, Asian…” you had to interrupt her when you heard that, because there was no way she used that only to describe.

“Well, no shit Sherlock, I’m in Seoul”  you threw your head back, trying to not let your annoyance get the worst of you. “Nevermind, I’ll just ask for the owner” that’d definitely work better, and faster, than waiting for your friend to give details and explanations that could work out for you. And it wasn’t like you had the patience either.

After hanging up the phone, and dragging your things inside the hotel, you were surprised by the delicate reception that reeked of expensiveness.Maybe it was the high walls that seemed to have no ending, the white marble floor, or the big calla lily flower that adorned the curved black stairs to the first floor. 

Heading to the huge counter across the reception, you supported your weight on it, getting the attention of a well dressed woman, who placed her waistcoat properly before speaking to you “I’m looking for the owner of the hotel. I’m Y/n, a representative from Youth. I had a meeting scheduled with him”.

The woman, all while smiling, nodded and checked on the computer hidden underneath the counterpart, confirming everything you’ve just said “Yes, here it is. But unfortunately Mr. Choi is busy right now. I’m afraid he won’t be able to meet with you until tomorrow morning”

Great. You tried your best at holding yourself back from rolling your eyes. It wasn’t like it was going to change your plans that much, because you wouldn’t be flying back home until two days later. But the plan was to have the first contact meeting as you arrived, and spend the next day exploring the hotel and discussing what objectives he had for his new hotel in London. You could still do all that tomorrow, but the slight change of plans -that messed with the strict schedule you settled to yourself- irked you. 

“I’ll give you your room key” she announced, after you agreed on waiting for him. “Our spa is open until nine, just like the pool. The pub is open until three. And if you crave something yummy, the room service is available all day.” pointing the way towards the lifts on the left, she said “Your room is the 115 on the second floor. Hope you enjoy your stay” said that, she bowed and waited for you to leave. 

When you got to your room, you wondered if you were getting a special treatment, or if all the rooms were alike. Because fucking hell. As you let your body dive in the fluffy mattress, you took a look around. Despite the black walls, the room still looked quite big for just one person. The decoration was quite minimalistic, following the white, yellow and black tones that you had already seen in the reception. In one corner of the room, next to the TV, you saw a black and white painting with a calla lily flower on it. And, considering the name of the hotel was “Kalla”, it made sense that their decoration focused on that flower in particular. Resting your head back on the mattress, you were finally aware of the several small mirrors on the ceiling, that could form one big mirror altogether if you looked properly. It was definitely a place to share with a partner, and Lizzie was so cruel for giving this work to you after what happened…

Rubbing that thought away, or at least trying to, you opened your luggage. It was eight, and it wasn’t like you were starving -because you made sure to stop somewhere to get something to eat before the supposed meeting-, but you needed a drink. And you were planning on staying in that pub until three. 

You weren’t exactly planning on clubbing while in Seoul, or going out for drinks, so your clothes were focused on serious meetings and casual clothes. You tried your best at combining both, to get a decent look before you went downstairs with a pair of jeans, a lilac blouse and a pair of black stilettos -that got you regretting your decision of wearing them after fifteen minutes, rushing yourself to sit on the first free stool you saw. 

San came back to the hotel where he spent most of his time, greeting the employees that were chattering behind the counter at the reception before heading directly to the open pub at the other side of the hall. 

The atmosphere there was always… exciting. And he loved the huge variety of people that were there. From couples enjoying their time before they jumped straight to their rooms or single people that were looking for someone to spend the night with, to those who found joy only looking at others. Or so that was the typical thing there. Of course, there were exceptions, like the woman who was sitting at the corner of the counter, too focused on her own drink to bother herself by lifting her eyes from it. 

And while he’d have ignored her to show some feedback to the women who had their eyes on him already, there was something in her aura that instantly attracted him to her. 

“The same as always?” the bartender asked, receiving a short nod from San before he took the spot next to you. 

He peeked at your drink, or what was remaining from it, and puckered his lips in approval. He had worked several years as a bartender to know that your drink was a Sex on the beach. The bitter taste of vodka, mixed with the fruity flavor of peach and cranberries was sexy. And the suggestive name of the drink was pretty much in line with the concept of the hotel. 

Yet you seemed completely uninterested in anyone. So he wondered if you were one of those who liked to go solo but being watched by others. Maybe that was your thing. 

“A pic will last longer” you caught him off guard by your comment, finally raising your eyes from the glass to the attractive man in front of you.

“I was just checking your drink”

“You know that sounds suspicious as fuck” you squinted your eyes at him.

You’ve dealt with several assholes while partying, those who’d do anything to get their dick wet -and you meant absolutely anything. But that man didn’t seem like one of those. Despite his harsh looks, you could find some kindness underneath. Maybe it was the way he was smiling, and the dimples that formed perfectly on each one of his cheeks before he spoke again. 

“That’s not what I meant” he got momentarily interrupted by the waiter handing him a short, but wide, glass of what you thought could be whiskey. “I just thought it was a good choice”

Lifting your drink a bit, you twisted your lips “Honestly, it seemed to be the softest drink in the menu” you had a high tolerance to alcohol, you just hated the excessive taste of it. 

“I’m San, by the way”

“Y/n”

San nodded again, scanning his eyes all over your body. Unable to not admire the way those jeans fitted perfectly in your curves, embracing your legs and ass on that stool, while his eyes avoided to be too obvious when they landed on your small cleavage -although, from his perspective, he could see more than enough to know that what you were hiding underneath was too good to hide it.

“I guess you come here often” you muttered, making him look at you with frowned eyes. “He said he’d get you the same as always”.

“So you like listening to others’ conversations” he teased you.

“More like, I’m an observer by nature” which was a requirement for your job. 

San nodded, curious about your response. You were a flirt, but it was so unconscious and natural from you that he could tell you didn’t belong to that place. Yet at the same time you fitted so perfectly. 

He could also tell you weren’t that good of an observer, because you seemed to be completely unaware of the three men that had their eyes on you two since he approached you. Or maybe you were aware, and he was just lucky that you were playing along with his game. 

“What about you?” he took a sip from his drink. “What brings you here?”

“Business” you nodded. “I had to meet with someone for a project, but the asshole didn’t dare to show up and didn’t even bother to inform me beforehand. So I’m here, killing time”

Minutes went by, letting him invite you for another drink when he also asked for another one for him, while you two just talked about anything. You swore you had never been that comfortable with anyone before, not even your ex boyfriend. Talking with San was so easy and fluent, it was like there was no way the conversation could die, because you two always managed a way to connect the previous topic to a new one. 

Well, that, and the fucking tension. You caught his eyes flying to your lips more than once while speaking, licking his own before smirking. And you’d done the right same thing a little too many times as well. He also touched your knee a few times, and you weren’t sure if he had done it on purpose or not, but the tickles in your stomach were dying for him to stick his hand there -accidentally or not. Something was pulling you to each other, but your own restrictions kept stopping any kind of move forward. 

You didn’t know San was convinced of winning that inner battle you had, no matter what. And, maybe, you were willing to lose for once, as well.

“So you don’t like rough drinks” he brought up again.

“Picky taste, they call it” you joked, moving the short straw in circles. 

He wondered if that was the only thing you didn’t like to be rough. 

San then took a drink, and you were so lost on the way his Adam’s apple moved as he gulped the drink, that you were unable to control yourself.

Fuck whatever inner battle you were having.

“But… can I try it?” you asked.

Without hesitation, San turned to you and offered you his glass. Instead, you moved to him, both of your hands enclosing around his neck before you link both of your lips together. You wanted to forget about that lame pick up line you pulled, but most importantly, you needed to know if his lips felt as good on yours as you had been imagining for almost an hour. And fuck they did. The heart-shaped form molding on yours as if you had been destined to meet that night. 

To your surprise, he answered your kiss, just as hungry and needy as you. Soon turning more possessive, controlling. You started the kiss, but he took control of it as his hands pressed on each side of your waist.

You weren’t a big fan of one night stands. You hated the idea of going to bed with a total stranger, even kissing one put you in a tough position. But something about San kept drawing you to him. You weren’t sure if it was the taste of whiskey every time his tongue twirled on yours, the way his thumb rubbed on your sides, or the heat that he was able to create with just his presence. But you were ready for everything he could give you.

“Should we take this somewhere?” he asked, breathless.

Yes, please.

But you didn’t beg out loud. You simply nodded, trying to guess how you’d stand up without falling down. Because your legs felt weak as hell at that point. 

The big question was where. You had too many important documents in your room, regarding that hotel project, to mess it all up because you were horny enough to invite a hook up in there. 

But again, he chose on your behalf, holding your hand to guide you towards the lifts you’d taken not that long ago. Your mind was too busy thinking about all the sinful things you wanted to do to him, to worry about your drinks not being paid. Your mind was filled with him, and when you got inside that elevator, his name intensified so deep in your brain that you couldn’t help but jump again on him, earning a chuckle from him against your lips that sent shiverings all over your body. And those only increased when he pressed you against the cold wall.

“Patience” he gasped, holding your hands on each side of your head when your fingers rushed to unbutton his black velvety waistcoat. “Don’t tell me I’ll have to teach you what that is”.

“Well, I’m quite a restless ass, so…” you managed to say under your breath.

That response, the way you tilted your head… You were one hell of a tease, and he knew he’d have a lot of fun with you tonight. 

All his sinful thoughts, filled with all of the things he wanted to do to you, were interrupted by the bell of the lift when you two got to the top floor. 

Sucking on your lower lip one last time, he held your hand and guided you down the hall. And with every step, you found yourself more nervous, but also excited and eager for what was to come. It was your first time ever hooking up with a man that you had just met, but you were ready for everything you two could offer to each other. 

San moved the key card skillfully over the magnet, unlocking the door to his room. You held your breath, trying to get as much air as possible as you were waiting for another kiss. But, instead, he invited you in and followed you from behind, closing the door and turning the lights off. 

His room was like yours, but reversed. Just a few things changed in the distribution, like the bathroom -instead of being at the left like yours, his was at the right. 

There was a moment of silence, thick and heavy, almost unbearable by the way he was looking at you with such intensity. The sound of the heels of his shoes hitting against the wooden floor made your heart beat a bit faster, leaving you close to pass out when he stood in front of you. 

His warm breath caressed your forehead, while his fingers pulled from your blouse, taking it out of your jeans before they moved up to those small white buttons. He unbuttoned each one, eyes focused on yours, as if he were wanting to say all the things he was planning for that night with them. He stopped his job though, moving his fingers upwards to your jaw, making a burning trail from that spot to your collarbones, moving the fabric enough to expose part of your shoulder before his fingers trailed down. He traced the curve of your breast, so slowly that it was painful, moving over the space between your tits, stopping at the place where he stopped unbuttoning your shirt. 

“Get naked for me” he demanded, but in such a sweet tone that it felt like honey to your ears.

As you nodded, he stepped back, only taking off the waistcoat you tried to rip off back in the elevator, throwing it somewhere in the room, before taking a seat over the edge of the bed. 

You took your heels off while you fought with the buttons left of your blouse, moving down to fight with your jeans when the upper fabric was long gone. You got naked in a new record time, but he stopped you when you finally took off your bra. Lifting two fingers in the air, he motioned you to start walking towards him. 

“We have all night, babe” he assured you, placing you in between his open legs, before you almost lost all balance when his tongue swirled around your nipple. 

He loved the way your body reacted to him almost instantly, feeling the buttons getting hard on his tongue with just a few moves, while you were trying your best at hiding your pleasure expression from him. Although, all that stopped when his lips closed around one of them. San was fast getting drunk from your taste, your reaction and that subtle coconut smell that was mixed with your arousal scent. Changing from one button to the other, he started slipping your panties down, making your skin burn with the way his fingers barely touched you on their way down. 

You felt a throb shaking you up from head to toe when his lips got in contact with your belly for the first time.

“Lay on the bed” he demanded.

You just did what he said. Feeling good over him having that amount of power over you, strangely excited by how you were fully naked in front of him while he was still completely clothed -although he was fighting against the knot of his tie while he walked around the bed. 

When he took out some pieces of the headboard to show off two long chains that came from each side, you instantly sat up. 

“Why does your room have this?” 

San looked at you confused for one second. All rooms had all kinds of sex toys or accessories, they were just hidden for the customer’s comfort and to keep the elegance of the hotel itself. “I’m sure yours has it, too”.

You still looked confused, because why the hell would a hotel have chains on the headboard of its beds.

“This hotel is designed for this, and aimed at people into this type of thing” he bothered to explain, kneeling next to you on the bed. “I thought you knew it”.

He knew there was something strange about you the second he laid his eyes on your body back in the pub, but he never thought it’d be that you were completely unaware of the hotel’s nature.

It was something that you’d have known if you had held the meeting with the owner, but you didn’t. 

“We can stop it all right now” you heard him say.

And despite being confused about what was happening, you still rushed to stop him from moving. Could be you were too into that man, too lost in his inverted triangle torso under that white shirt, or the way his bulge marked under his slacks, but you didn’t really want it to stop. 

“I want to go on” you assured him, instantly earning a sided smile from him. 

He stretched the black tie in his hands, looking at you with a careful gaze “Whenever you’re unsure, uncomfortable… If you just want to stop, use the safe word, calla, and I’ll stop. Understood?”.

After seeing you nodding, he wrapped his tie around your head, covering your eyes with the black and thick fabric. Gently, he pushed you towards the mattress, with two fingers against your chest, until you were finally lying down. 

With your eyes covered, you felt like your other senses multiplied per ten. You could perfectly hear the sound of the thin chains rubbing against the metallic headboard, you could feel the light weight of each one of the handcuffs next to your wrists as San placed himself on top of you. 

He closed the two puffy handcuffs around you, restricting your moves, but also making sure they wouldn’t be that tight to hurt you. 

Your back momentarily arched when you felt something light and soft caressing your skin, tracing an invisible line from your jaw, down to your neck and collarbones. San found delightful the way your body responded to the plastic flower running over your body. It was all your subtle responses that made him twitch in his pants faster than he’d want to. He wanted to teach you about patience, and there he was, almost close to losing his because of the way your hairs lifted as the petal drew the rugosity of your nipples, your how thick you swallowed when it kept moving down to your belly button. 

The touch of that thing on your body, ghosting over your skin, and teasing your pelvis, as San moved back to straddle your thighs, was sending you to a whole new place. Needy, eager, desperate… Those were the words that would describe you right now, as your arousal kept leaking while all you wanted was him. San was a king at building up the moment and getting you ready for him. He was giving a whole new meaning to the word patience. 

You stopped feeling his weight on your body, but you did feel it on the mattress, in front of you. Biting your lip to hold back a moan, when he lifted your leg from your ankle. That soft thing was tempting the curve of your sole, moving forward to the marked bone of your ankle, before it started moving up past your calve. Still going up to your inner thigh, you felt San’s strong hands enclosing around your knees, parting your legs to finally see by himself his creation. Your slick creating thin lines among your folds when he left you completely open. 

“You’re so gorgeous” he assured, finally allowing you to feel his lips on the soft skin of your inner thighs. 

It was your first time in that place, in that situation, but you were molding in so perfectly, you were looking so fucking tempting, he had to remind himself he had to be easy on you. He was dying to use one of the whips hidden behind the secret closet next to the TV, or overstimulating you with one of the vibrators until you asked him to stop. Only because you dared to go faster than what he was planning to back in that elevator. 

Maybe another day. 

You felt his weight disappearing from the bed, but you still heard the sound of his clothes moving, barely making a sound when they fell to the ground around him. Soon after he joined you again, placing himself between your thighs, and letting his heavy dick rest on your pubes, grinding on you “Are you going to take me like a good girl?”.

You nodded, thinking it’d be enough with just that. Until a hard span on your thigh made you jump, and bite your lip to shut the whimper tempting to get out.

“Use your words”.

“Yes” your voice sounded so weak, he found it cute. 

Your hips instantly lifted when he moved his tip all over your slit, getting himself wet enough before thrusted in all at once, making a scream get drowned at the back of your throat while holding yourself onto the chains by the surprise. Waiting a few seconds, he rolled his hips back again slowly, before thrusting into you hard again, making your whole body collapse against the mattress. 

He repeated that same move a few times, just to buckle his hips and go faster in you, not allowing you to feel empty for long enough before he was filling you completely again. “So tight and good” he moaned “You have no fucking idea what beautiful you’re looking right now, being fucked so good” His fingergrips dinted on your skin, and you were sure you’d be filled with his marks the morning after. But you couldn’t care less. You were too lost in pleasure, too over the moon by his cock rubbing against all the right spots, that you were even having a hard time controlling your own moans.

And he was aware, and bothered by it. San was seeing you moving your body constantly, clenching your jaw while pressing your lips together, with only small whines and gasps getting to escape your mouth with every thrust, forcing him to press his digits on your cheeks, parting your lips so those sounds would be filling the room. 

“This is how I want you, babe” his hand went down to your waist, lifting your hips a bit more. “Be a fucking mess for me. Let everyone know who’s fucking you this good”.

You yourself were surprised by your own whimpers, finding it hard to believe those loud moans and begs were coming from you. Never in your life you thought you’d feel so much pleasure to be so loud, always thinking it was something exaggerated by the few porn movies you used to watch when you had to do the job your ex didn’t. 

It was the first time in your life you were losing yourself completely, not having a single bit of control over your body. 

His fingers dragged the tie down, now placed around your neck, before he pulled from it to force you to look at him. 

You were too shy to keep your eyes on him, but too fucking turned on by own looks to move them away. His jaw was clenched, his eyes -almost covered with his bangs- were filled with sinful words that were roaming in the back of his head. You looked down at his marked abs, and the outline of his pelvis, pounding against you so hard that you thought he was planning to break you in half, while your body just bounced with it. 

You were unable to resist when his fingers started tracing circles around your clit. Your legs kept being pushed apart by his free hand whenever you aimed to close them. “I’m gonna cum” your head hung in the air, now rocking with the rest of his body and his full control. 

“You gonna cum on my cock?” he tilted his head. “Do it. Make a mess for me, babe”.

It took him those words, and three more circles around your bundle of nerves, and your pussy was milking him hard and tight while cumming all around him. And after seeing your eyes rolled to the back of your head, hearing that broken loud moan, and feeling you clench so tight around him, he reached his high short after. 

After a few minutes, you were still recovering from that powerful orgasm, just that you were untied and looking up to the ceiling next to him in his bed. after he came back from throwing away the condom. 

You were waiting for your client in the waiting hall of the hotel, still thinking about the amazing night you spent with that hot stranger. Although you felt a bit guilty after basically running away from his room after he fell asleep after the second round. San assured you you could spend the night there. And, while you agreed, there was something inside you that made you get up and leave him there while he slept. 

Could be you’d see him again later today to be able to apologize. Could be you’d never see him again -and, honestly, that upsetted you more than it should have. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by a group of voices that were getting closer to your room, until the door opened and showed a neatly dressed woman -that was probably around your age. 

“Mr. Choi will be with you in a second” she assured her.

And just nodding, you sat back on the armchair while playing nervously with your fingers on your lap. You expected that man to be someone old, rough and difficult to handle. Because there was no way you were the only one in the office acceptable to take the job. You were sure more than one person rejected the project, and you were the only dumb one to take it.

“Sorry for being so late…”

You froze on the spot when you saw him. If you had had a way to hide yourself anywhere, you for sure would’ve jumped anywhere to close yourself inside forever. The man you were begging for more last night, that had you in shambles and almost crying from pleasure, the same man you abandoned at five in the morning in the sneakiest way possible, was standing in front of you. 

“Mr. Choi?” you asked, nervously.

“You’re the agent from Youth?” unlike you, his looks brightened when he saw you. “So I’m that asshole?”.

Reminding how you ranted against the owner of the hotel with him, you were aware you were talking to the person you were talking shit of.

No. Now. Now was when you wanted to hide forever. That probably was the worst way to start the negotiations for a project.

[hw4-l1z]

Masterlist

°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

Stray Kids

Bangchan:

- shy!chan x m!reader

- bttm!chan x stressed!m!reader

- Switch!chan x Switch!gn!reader

Lee Know:

- sub!Lino x dom!m!reader

Changbin:

- ☆Release☆

Hyunjin:

- sub!hyunjin x dom!m!reader

Han:

- ✨️Dick that sushi roll down✨️

- ✨️pretty boys✨️

Felix:

- ✨️pretty boys✨️

- ♡pretty kitty♡

- sub!felix x dom!gn!reader

Seungmin:

Empty

I.N:

Empty

Ot8 Headcanons:

- hyung!line reaction to you having tattoos/ maknae!line vers

°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

Xdinary Heroes

Gunil:

Empty

Jungsu:

Empty

Gaon:

- sub!boypussy!gaon x dom!m!reader

- belly bulge sub!gaon x dom!m!reader

O.de:

Empty

Junhan:

- junhan with intimidating but softdom!reader

- sub!junhan x hard-dom!m!reader

- sub!junhan x Softdom!m!reader

- junhan getting princess treatment(fluff)

- virgin!junhan getting fingered by dom!gn!reader

Jooyeon:

Empty

Ot6 Headcanons:

- Ot6 reaction to you having tattoos

- ot6 reaction to being called 'good boy'

- ot6 reaction to you having a big dick

- ot6 reaction to having an intimidating/dominating bf

°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

Ateez

Hongjoong:

- sub!hongjoong x dom!m!reader

Seonghwa:

- sub!seonghwa x dom!m!reader

Yunho:

- sub!yunho x dom!gn!reader

Yeosang:

San:

- sub!San x dom!m!reader

- sub!San x dom!m!reader

Mingi:

- Sub!mingi x m!reader

- Sub mingi x dom!m!reader

Wooyoung:

Jongho:

- shy!sub!jongho x smaller!dom!m!reader

Ot8 Headcanons:

°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

OTHER IDOLS:

- brattysub!sunghoon x dom!m!reader

- punishing sub!sunoo

- punishing bratty!keeho x dom!m!reader

°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

[zqteez]

the dare | woohwa x reader

summary: you go hanging out with your friends and you guys okay some games. the game truth or dare comes up but its explicit ver. you get picked with woohwa and some stuff goes on

wc: 1.9k (my longest so far 💀)

genre: smut, light fluff

warnings: harddom!hwa , softdom!woo , sub!reader (not poly), light choking, finger sucking, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (booo, dont do that, btw reader is on birth control), praising, nicknames (princess, doll, reader is called a whore and a slut once), begging, theres some aftercare at the end! (lmk if i missed anything!)

your invited to seonghwa’s party and all of his and your friends are there having the time of your guy’s life. you haven’t had fun in a while so it was better for you just to get out the house and hang around. you finally get there and say hello to everyone and so on. you finally see seonghwa for the first time tonight, you arent that close with him where you both knew everything about each other but you guys were close enough that he could invite you to his party and to have some fun.

“hey hwa!” you scream from across the room so you made sure he could hear you. “oh, hey y/n!” he walks over to you hugging you. “look, you remember wooyoung?” this was the first time you also saw wooyoung tonight. “yeah of course! hey!” you hug while he hugs you back. “you guys wanna play a game with my other friends?” seonghwa asks you both. “uhm, sure of course.” you agree, woo also agrees. wooyoung was always soft with you, he always made sure you were okay. “you sure you wanna come with me and hwa?” he asks in his soft tone. “yeah.” you reply. you were planning to do something else but you decided to go with them.

you, wooyoung and seonghwa sit at the table with seonghwa and wooyoung’s other friends. “hey guys, meet y/n!” wooyoung tells them. they all say hi back. “hey y/n, i’m hongjoong! these are our friends yunho, yeosang, san, mingi and jongho.” pointing while he introduces their names. “nice dress y/n..” mingi mumbles as you sit down next to wooyoung. “don’t be a fucking perv mingi.” wooyoung mumbled back slightly pushing him on his shoulder.

you guys start playing uno, never have i ever and a few other games. it’s getting later at night the party started at 9 and now its 11pm, you’re still enjoying the night though. you guys start to play a few rounds of truth or dare and now its your turn. “y/n, truth or dare.” san asks you. “hmm…dare” you reply with a smirk on your face. “ohh, good choice.. i dare you to..” he’s smirking on your face and your getting scared, obviously not in a actual dangered way but you know.

“i dare you to.. do something sexual with anyone in this area and you have to choice.” your heart drops to a stomach as he says that with his devious smirk on his face. “yo, are you for real?” hongjoong asks in his ear but you can hear. “yeah dude.” your still in shock in silence as you had heard what he had said. “uh..” your words get cut off by wooyoung whispering in your ear, “look you don’t have to if you dont want to.” he always cared for you. all these words stuck in your head and you just blurt out words from your mouth, “i’ll choose seonghwa and wooyoung.” seonghwa and wooyoung both turn their heads so fast towards you. you don’t even know what you said. “are you sure y/n?” seonghwa asks still in shock. “yeah, yeah.” you assure him. “you hit her up with that one san she’s in for it.” jongho mumbles but you still hear everything. “where are you guys gonna go?” mingi asks wishing it was him. “uh..closet..?” you mumble so you don’t feel embarrassed. wooyoung and seonghwa agrees and follow you.

you, woo and hwa follow you into the closet, locking the closet door and making sure nobody heard you or them. “you sure you wanna do this?” seonghwa asks reassuring you again. “yes.” wooyoung is off to the side not really knowing what to do but still confused on what he got into you. its silent but you decide to break the silence by saying, “you guys can do whatever you want to me. touch me do whatever you want i dont care.” that make seonghwa flinch and walk up to you and start making out with you infront of wooyoung and pinning you against the closet wall. it was messy but not rushed and kinda forced.

you let his tounge slip into your mouth and you make a small moan. he starts rubbing his hands against your waist and hips making you wet and moan in his mouth again. he starts to undress you while wooyoung and seonghwa also start to undress themselves. “would you ever think that your best friends would be doing sexual things with me?” seonghwa asks in the kiss you guys are still having. you catch your breath and say “no, maybe thought about it once, but no” you giggle and start getting back to making out with him. as you both end the kiss he starts to slide your underwear down your legs. wooyoung still staring at you and seonghwa still not knowing what to do.

seonghwa slides down a hand down your legs caressing your inner thighs and kissing your neck at the same time. your starting to feel overwhelmed but not that much so far due to all the pleasure you have going on. seonghwa then stops kissing your neck and kissing his way down to your clit. you need him. you never knew you needed him this badly though.

“hwa..i need you..” you say breathy. “i know you do baby” him replying back with a middle finger already in you and you let out a soft moan. you want something to grab onto and not just the old pillows that were in the closet on the floor supporting you. as your still being supported by old pillows on the floor and some around you, wooyoung goes and lays behind your back and head to make sure your okay. “it’ll be alright, just yell stop if you wanna stop” he whispers in your ear without seonghwa noticing and you replying with a moan. “you take me so well darling.” seonghwa mumbles under his breath inserting another finger in leaving you to moan even louder than last.

your legs start to shake around his head and on wooyoung’s body in pleasure, every time he curled his fingers in your g-spot you would either whine or whimper due to pleasure you haven’t had in so long. “s-so good..” you whine making seonghwa chuckle at you. “look at you.. your such a whore for us..” he starts to rub your sensitive bud faster making you moan and whimper. wooyoung’s still on the other hand wants to make sure your okay. “tap on my thigh if your not okay..” with him saying that seonghwa looks up at him and says “don’t be all gentle with her, atleast try to be rough with her after all she’s just a slut for us right?” you reply in a whine. “don’t do that hwa.” wooyoung still wanting to make sure your okay but seonghwa rolls his eyes at him.

“h-hwa… m’ gonna..” you say but right before you can he takes his fingers out of you, making you sigh and breathe heavily. wooyoung rubbing on your head and kissing your forehead. he made you feel better when all of a sudden you see seonghwa unbuckle his pants and he whips out his cock. he slides his fingers he had just had in you a few minutes ago into your mouth and says “suck.” you suck off your essence like its the last meal you had.

when you start sucking on his fingers, he slides in his cock without a warning between your folds making you moan so loud he wanted to keep you quiet just for a second so his one free hand that was holding your waist went straight for your neck choking you lightly also with his fingers still in your mouth, he wasn’t trying to make you choke choke you know but he eventually shut you up. he loved your noises but be just needed you to shut up and look pretty while being choked for a good few seconds. he starts thrusting faster and wooyoung tries to keep you in place still behind you “remember.. tap my thigh..” he assures you making you squeal in response.

you manage to get out a breathy “please..h-hwa..m gonna.. fuck-“ “cmon love, cum all over my dick. i’ll cum with you.. shiiit” his groaning and you moaning all comes to a hult when your letting all of your fluids spill on his cock still thrusting into you, without warning he still thrusts into you hitting your g-spot making. you shake uncontrollably. “don’t move. wooyoung hold her down.” seonghwa orders. “do i have to.?”

“yes, now hold her down.” he orders again. wooyoung didnt wanna hurt you knowing that your pleasure is gonna come to an end soon but listening to his hyung he hold your legs down. “you have to listen to hwa okay?” you nod. at this point it was round three, you and seonghwa are still cumming on each other and afterward give each other a loud sigh. wooyoung didn’t do anything but he wanted to do something but kept it to himself only because he didn’t wanna ruin your time.

- time skip: 10 minutes later -

he continues to kiss you on your temple forehead and cheeks to make sure your okay. seonghwa is now on the other side of the room just on his phone still acting like he didnt just give you three orgasms and intensely fuck you. the party at this point was over. the rest of wooyoung and seonghwa’s friends left and forgot about you both because they got drunk.

“y/n… earth to y/n.. you okay?” wooyoung asks you with his kind tone. he was never mean or rude or rough or anything like that to you. you were half asleep tired and still breathing heavy and fast on his chest. you manage to whine a tiny bit in response that you were okay. he knew what that meant. “want water..?” he asks, you shake your head no. he hugs you and you fall asleep in his arms on his chest, seonghwa is also knocked out you both didn’t say a word afterward.

— time skip: 20 minutes later —

seonghwa wakes up randomly noticing its 1am and he walks over to wooyoung and you trying to wake you both up so you both can go home. “woo, wake up, we gotta go..” seonghwa whispers. wooyoung wakes up mid sentence but your still knocked out on his lap and arms. wooyoung cant get up. “how do i g-get up..?” wooyoung asks still in his tired voice. “i’ll carry her in the car and into her apartment.” they both agree and lightly picking you up into the car bridal style and driving you home. once your in your apartment, seonghwa lays you down on your bed covering you up with blankets. he smiles at you in your bed looking how beautiful you look. he sits near you quietly trying not to wake you up by whispering “hey.. i dont know if you can hear me. probably not but you did so well today. i hope you know that love. have a nice sleep darling.” he kisses your cheek quietly and quickly exiting your room and apartment.

as seonghwa gets in the car with wooyoung driving back to their house because they live together wooyoung asks him “how’s she doing?” the silence was awkward but seonghwa breaks it by saying “she’s perfectly fine.” he smiles and wooyoung and wooyoung smiles back finally now driving back to their house and pulling out of the parking lot.

[maissafespace]

Out of the Honeymoon Phase.

Yuta Okkotsu x Reader

Request: I really liked the fic you wrote about Yuuta and the age gap 🙏 Could you write another story about yuuta and reader of the same theme?

Warnings: age gap relationship. reader is 27 and Yuta is 19, inappropriate superior-student relationship, forbidden relationship, smoker!reader, jujutsu society noble clans. light angst. jealousy, insecurity. explicit nsfw. vouyerism, risk of getting caught, creampies, unprotected sex, manhandling, rough sex, softdome!yuta, face grabbing, face fucking, oral (m. receiving), cum play.

A/N: this belongs with Fast Learner, is like a part two of it but not really, it's the same au though. hope you like it anon, i am a bit sick but i did the best i could, but if you have something more specific about this au just request with more details :))) comment and like please.

part 1.

Masterlist - Masterpost

You had been doing your duty abroad for nearly a month, a mere month and you were already being called back for a huge clan meeting that included all the noble clans, the best sorcerers Japan had to offer and all the people that were considered the elite of society.

The past month was something like a honeymoon with Yuta, the moment you boarded the plane all your worries had faded away, you were giving zero fucks in whether this relationship was going to work or not, you wanted him and you were going to get him for some time.

But that time was cut short and had pretty much burst your personal heaven.

For the week you two were going to stay, there would not be your careless intimacy where you would simply parade half naked in your apartment, fucking wherever you pleased, didn't matter if it was the shower, the balcony, the bed or the kitchen counter, there would not be late night walks holding hands and kissing in public because nobody knew who you two were.

You hated it.

You wanted to see your shirtless boyfriend sleeping in your bed without any shame, have him wrap his arms around you when you cooked or have your arms wrap around his torso when he cooked, have your late movie nights, have your home life that you had built together.

Being guests in other people's home was maybe the worst part of it.

Since it was something like a gathering, you two were invited to stay in the Gojo clan grounds, and while it seemed ideal as Satoru already knew of you two, the elders that decided over Yuta's life were the main problem.

A bunch of grannies and grandpas that would run their mouths to every person with influence and put you in the worst position by twisting the truth however they wanted it. You had a reputation so it wasn't something you could allow.

The gathering started normally, there wasn't much fuss as people were still arriving.

You were wearing a kimono, clear colors for you balancing out the dark one that Yuta was wearing, maybe the choice was intentional... maybe not.

Your eyes met every few minutes. From where you were with Shoko, you could see him across the room catching up with his former classmates as members of their respective clans.

You weren't blind, you saw how there was a shared soft look between Maki and him, the sight made your heart clench a little, you remembered the exact reason you first met him was for her, to support her in exceeding her family's expectations.

They would definitely be a better match than you two, after all, they knew each other for years, they seemed to admire each other, be as comfortable and all without having to hide in a corner to simpply share a smile that would suggest a little more.

You turned away, resuming your conversation with your friend and trying to forget ever witnessing anything and pushing down the doubts that had just finally go away about him.

Fate wasn't on your side at all when important affairs were being discussed and brought out all the fears you had.

"-aren't arranged marriages a bit out of style, Naobito-san?" Gojo mocked him a little, but behind the sunglasses he was wearing his eyes briefly went to your figure as the old man spoke.

"They are not, Satoru. They are the perfect way to ensure a clan's strength and the stability of our society." He looked at him seriously, turning then to the man that had your heart. "I have two daughters, Okkotsu-"

You were not looking at either of them, your ears sliencing any form of noise and voice, internally you could only hear your own heartbeat.

"Naobito, we could continue this talk tomorrow, I need to have Yuta think about the situation thoroughly without making any haste decision, he's still a part of my clan, I have the responsibility." Gojo spoke up. Shutting down the converstion just for now.

"Y/N, a report on international affairs?" Gakuganji asked you, breaking you out of your trance.

You cleared your throat, putting on a small smile, straight posture with hands on your lap as you were taught to. "Well..."

When people started to retire to their residences late in the afternoon to late reunite for dinner, you took the chance to escape that suffocating environment even if it was just for an hour.

You couldn't imagine handling a few more days with all of them around, you wanted to go back and far away from them.

Turning your bag all around you found the small pack of cigarettes, taking the lighter in your other hand while your foot opened the door towards the patio just a little for air to flow.+

Humming and whining internally, the scent of smoke burned in you, while it also mixed with your pefume, inhaling them as your eyes closed, focusing on the simple action and forgetting every word that was about your lover and his possibility of marriage to another.

You knew it was going to happen sooner or later.

Your fault for losing yourself in this.

Your fault for investing your heart, your body and your soul.

Your fault for starting to make your love real.

The self-loathing session was cut short when you felt two arms wrap around your waist, a soft kiss placed on the top of your head while a body envolved you fully from behind, making you sit between a pair of legs that you were too familiar with.

"What are you thinking about so deeply?" He muttered against your skin, eyes looking down at the bare legs that showed off from your kimono.

Your fingers crushed the cigarette off, letting the wooden floor of the patio turn into a black circle. You sighed, your hands going over his, holding him close to you too. "What do you think." Your tone had a hint of mockery, it was impossible for him not to know what had gotten you so upset.

His arms tightened around you in a hard squeeze, making your breathing stop for a second while your body clashed with his. "Yuta." Maybe it was harsh how you talked but nothing could exactly mask your feelings at the moment.

"Those were just the old men speculating, I'm not going to do anything, Y/N, you know that." He was on the defensive.

"It's not really up to you to decide, that's why we have these gatherings in this society." Your jaw clenched, you didn't want to out your frustration on him, it wasn't his fault entirely after all.

Fingers forcefully grabbed your face, turning it around till his lips smacked against his, your body twisting but leaning against his.

He gripped tightly on your face till your lips opened, pushing his way in for a kiss that coulld be not described as anything but messy, sloppy and filthy. His tongue moving against yours, moans and heavy breaths filling the room.

His hands completely moved you around, you were sat on your knees and thighs, hands gripping on his kimono, pushing it down his shoulders and completely off him.

You moaned in his mouth, whimpered for him for more as the heat was pooling between your legs.

"Y-Yuta..." His hand cupped your nape roughly, pulling you even more into him.

"Ssshhh... I need to show you wh's the only one for me." HIs lips talked against yours in a raspy voice that had your thighs squeezing together more than anything. Oh... you taught him so well.

He stood up in front of you, holding you in your place. The layered fabrics on him fell flat on the floor, his body becoming exposed to you as it was for every night and day for the last month, his abs with a veil of sweat forming, his underwear retaining the bulge that only you could make on him.

"You know what to do.” His thumb gently stroked your bottom lip.

Your hands moved on their own, slipping down his boxers down to his feet, his erection sprung up, your throat going dry, your lips wrapping immediately around the pink tip of his cock.

"Mhmm... You're the only one who can make me like this. No one else." He moaned softly, brushing down your hair with his hand.

You moved your head all long his lenght, tongue licking all around the good points you only knew. Everything was gentle, till the hand on your head firmly stopped it and instead you felt his hips moving forward till his cock hit the back of your throat.

Your moans were loud as he starts to ram your mouth, he wouldn’t stay silent either, he pat his groans and moans float in the room, keeping his pace deep and fast, your fingers were digging in his flesh, find him to ground yourself form the dizziness you were feeling.

Your tongue moved around as it could, pleasing him however you could as tears started to roll down your cheeks. He wiped them away, slowing his hips, letting you lick around his length just like he loved.

He pulled out of your mouth with a hiss from to warmth of your mouth to the cold room, he leaned down, still holding your face in his hands as his lips clashed against yours, tongues moving against one another, he was savoring himself making you more aroused. From your first time together he had never forgotten about it. He didn’t like to finish in your mouth but to damage it was enough.

The kiss was rough and passionate. You were losing yourself in it, as if the worries and jealousy over the initial quarrel never existed.

Pulling away from you, he pushed you down to your back, spreading your legs for him to situate himself. He let your clothes fall by your sides, eyes burning into your figure, his cock was still wet with your saliva, the tip of it slapping on your swollen clit while your opening clenched around the air pleading silently for him to be inside you. He smirked at it.

He felt proud to be the man in this position, you taught him how to please you perfectly, he was the only one that he felt like knew really every part of your body and how to arouse it.

Seeing you wincing at the light slap had him twitch in his own hands. "Please, Yuta-!"

He thrusted in you at once, he sighed in pleasure stilling deep till his tip touched your womb, a grin remained on his face, his hands wrapped around your thighs, pulling your lips into his, skin smacking into one another loudly.

Your moans mixed together as he picked up his pace, going faster but keeping it deep in you and hard.

He leaned down, chest to yours, pressing against your breasts, your arms around his back as his lips met yours in a gentle kiss that completely felt the opposite to what your bodies were doing to one another.

Walls tightening around his shaft, you were both close to your first orgasm, moans drowing in the hungry kiss till both of you clung onto each other, skin deep with your nails as you let out cries and groans as you rode your climaxes together.

His hips spasmed into yours as he came, filling you of his cum, completely erasing the doubts you had in you.

Breathing heavily, forehead to forehead, you felt your bodies with a slight veil of sticky sweat, but that was the intimacy of it all, your lips pecked his with a smile that made his heart melt, he leaned down to resume what you had started once again.

As the makeout got heavier, your pussy that was becoming wetter from another wave of arousal and his cock hardening once again in you.

Giggles erupted from you two. "You see, I only have eyes for one woman. And only woman can make me like- this." He said with a thrust followed by your moan and his lips attacking your neck. "I only want you, doesn't matter what I have to do, if I have to fuck a baby into you or something to reassure you that I only want you."

He thrusted as ruthlessly as before but had to stop, his sensitivity was still there. "From behind..." You murmured between the tiredness and the excitement.

There weren't many instances of doggy between you two but when it was, it felt pretty out of control .

"Please." You meowled out, his hands led your body into position, hands and knees down on the ground, back arched beautifully as your hips wriggled to welcome him, looking at the cum from the previous round almost coming out.

He pushed back into you, his fingers digging hard onto the flesh of your waist and hips, the smacking of skin was louder than before and you both were not shy of your sounds either but you still try to muffle into your arm in vain.

It was then that as you looked back at him, you realized that the window door was left a bit open, much that there was a figure in the distance looking right back at you. A maid perhaps? You hoped she wasn't looking at you but somewhere in the vicinity.

Yuta noticed your distraction at how your pussy felt tightening around him, he groaned at that, looking where you were looking and meeting the eyes of a lady, who that was? He didn't know, but it was more of a reason he wouldn't stop.

He pounded harder and faster, letting your moans spilled out, you could see the cheeks of the young woman and her eyes looking away in shame. Your grip at the clothes on the ground had your knuckles turning white.

It was coming again, your back arched more, your hips started to pound back to his to orgasm faster, he let you do, till his gritted teeth felt your juices all around him once again, you became still, he fucked you through your high then and came right after.

What had happened hit you only when your vision became clear once again. Your eyes widening, looking out at the woman that had now disappeared while he just shushed you down, you couldn't help but follow his lead for once, you could care less, you wanted him despite the circumstances.

Pulling out, he slipped your panties in place immediately. "Don't spill anything." He said, and you were close to ask him if it was his way to arouse you more or not. But as he then laid beside you, kimono covering his lower body.

"You know staying here is risky." You told him, tracing the line of his jawline, while your head laid on his chest.

"Mhm... I'm staying in the room as the same partner I've been with for the last month, nothing particularly strange to me. We're just organizing the things we have to do overseas." He looked at you with the same soft smile as always, the one that had you wrapped around his finger.

You smiled sillily back at him. "And what are these things?"

"A new headboard for now, maybe we should consider getting a dog though. Practice." He winked, bursting out laughing, you hugged him tight, pecking him all over his face.

Sitting around all these people once again was exhausting, this time Yuta was beside you, talking with everyone about your stories from the other side of the world. All while your pussy was dripping down small drops of his cum into your panties.

He looked so innocent, laughing freely and sweetly as if he wasn't the same man that was the cause of your current condition of mixed soreness and exhaustion.

His face even blushed at mere compliments from others, but nobody could see the hand situated on your thigh. It was when he snapped you out of your daydream with a squeeze that you noticed that same maid being the one serving the food.

She couldn't look at you two in the eyes, your sweetness wasn't ignored, she met your gaze, she was young, probably just started working here, she nodded, blushing when noticing the man's arms on your bare flesh.

"So, Okkotsu have you thought about my proposal on marriage?" His hand never left your body, the maid was visibly more uncomfortable knowing the context and your heart dropped a bit as well. But with him close, you felt better.

[uwuheeseungie]

fics i plan to read !

most of these are 18+, minors do not interact!

these will also be on my fic recs blog

ateez ot8

pool party by @a-soft-hornytiny | ot8 x fem!reader, san x fem!reader, pool sex, public sex, voyeurism, degradation, dirty talk, unprotected sex, humiliation begging

summary: you visit the hotel pool with your boyfriends, expecting a relaxing end of your day. turns out you were totally wrong about the relaxing part.

hongjoong

extra credit ft. san by @nateezfics | threesome, smut, fem!reader, dom!hongjoong, dom!san, sub!reader, college au, professor!hongsan

summary: oh the things you’ll do to avoid flunking your classes. but to be honest, being at the mercy of your two professors has more benefits than just a passing grade.

seonghwa

you are my universe by @thelargefrye | background poly ateez, non-idol au, hurt/comfort

synopsis: you're worried seonghwa doesn't like the gift you made him.

best lover by @hongism | smut/pwp 18+, fwb!au, language, mentions of alcohol and smoking, explicit smut

breakfast in bed ft.san by @cheollipop | afab!reader, smut, fluff, established!relationship, poly!relationship

good neighbor by @songmingisthighs | nerd!seonghwa x neighbor!reader, smut, neighbors au

bodyguard by @baekhvuns | romcom, angst, smut

synopsis: in which his task is to be your bodyguard, his mob-boss’s daughter. where he not only guards you but also guards your body.

little thing by @star-1117 | smut, fluff, unprotected sex, virgin fem!reader, oral (fem! receiving), reader is insecure, mentions of stretch marks

(un)lovable by @starryhwaa | hurt/comfort (mention of unaffectionate family environment), smut, slight fluff, fwb to lovers?

synopsis: feeling unloved due to your toxic family, you always search for seonghwa to make you forget your pain.

yunho

it’s not living (if it’s not with you) by @urfavoritevampire | angst, fluff, smut, slow burn, best friends to lovers, ex to lovers, college au, nonidols au

good morning by @cheollipop | smut, fluff, established relationship

synopsis: at eight in the morning, yunho decided that a little exercise was the best way to start the day.

two is better than one by @songmingisthighs | smut, mingi x reader x yunho, extra, size training/size kick, ftfwb

san

take a break by @cheollipop | smut, fluff, afab!reader, softdom!san, praise, oral, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex, fingering, slight cockwarming, nicknames, impregnating/breeding kink

synopsis: after says isolating himself in his room to study, you offered to help san relax. you forgot one thing, however — that choi san has always been better at giving love than receiving it.

best friend’s brother by @urfavoritevampire | smut, some fluff, some angst, nonidol characters, san has a sister named mina (is not twice’s mina), fingering, unprotected sex, drunk sex (author warns to not do this irl)

synopsis: when your night with your crush doesn’t go to plan, you find comfort in the person you’d least expect.

mistake done right by @cherryxsang | smut, semi-public sex, san is a playful dom, fingering, finger sucking, dirty talk, sir kink, masturbastion

lovesick by @cheollipop | smut, fluff, san is in love

synopsis: back-to-back schedules meant san barely had any time to eat, let alone see you. after feeling your skin against his for the first time in weeks, he couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

wooyoung

the chains that bind by @a1sh1teruu | ghoul!wooyoung, ccg!reader, f!reader, profanities, smut, mentions of fwb

synopsis: catching jung wooyoung was a hard job, but keeping him in place was even harder.

yeosang

precious by @l0vecity | camboy!yeosang x afab!reader, smut

synopsis: you stumbled upon your best friend yeosang on a cam site and your curioudity got the best of you. next time you saw him, it was hard to erase the image of him pleasing himself for you.

mingi

gorgeous by @imrllytootiredforthis | dom!reader, sub!mingi, thigh riding, praise kink, degradation, hair pulling, mingi's called princess a lot