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sximsoc · 1 day ago

Note

Hi, hope you're doing fine, if I can, can I request like a suggestive one-shot about haechan in the +82 pressin mv? 👉🏻👈🏻

𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐄

genre - suggestive , mild angst , one shot

synopsis - two lovers end up with a mark on one another , what happens when they come face to face ?

pairing - (+82 pressin) haechan x reader

word count : 17 , 031

warnings : mdni ! suggestive , violence , weapons ( guns , knives ) a weird fight scene because i can never write them right but i tried , did a lot of research with dissecting the 82 pressin world and the world building and concept behind it, so very sin city inspo with rivalries that you’ll see soon , also took some inspo from mr and ms smith because i thought it was very fitting and i wanna give credit where credit is due yk

The rain was cold, freezing up every part of your body. Goosebumps raising on your arms as they violently shook, the grasp on your knife was getting lose, the rain not helping as the sweat on your palms were making it hard to grasp the smooth leather handle like normal. Were your eyes deceiving you? Were your eyes playing games with you? Since when was your job conflicting? Since when did you struggle to just hit your target like usual? It wasn't hard, it wasn't difficult, you were used to it all. The blood, the guts, the screams as they begged for you to not kill them, but this time as your knife was pointing straight at him, your strong resolve was falling. Cracks were forming and he could tell, but why wasn't he cracking? Wasn't this hard for him too? Why wasn't he shaking? Why wasn't he moving? Why didn't he pull the trigger already! Why is he stalling!

All these questions ran through your head like a marathon. Your vision blurring and you couldn't tell if it was because of tears or because of the rain. The dark night was looking upon you, the moon shining bright as his features glowed under its light. God, he was beautiful, even with a cold stare like the one he had right now. Why did this have to happen? Why did your next mission have to go the way it did? The second your handler handed you your next mission, your whole world fell apart. You should have said no, should have rejected the mission and gone back home without a job and without a life, and you'd laid in his arms like nothing happened. Like you didn't see your husband's picture in the manila folder. Like you weren't asked to kill him. His arms would be warm, his heart gently pounding and lulling you to sleep, his lips soft as they kissed your forehead and he'd mumbled a simple five more minutes before starting his day.

No, you can't be thinking about him like this, you can't, not anymore. His gun was pointed at you, his finger on the trigger, just pull it! Please! It's all you wanted him to do. End your life so he can live, that was the right thing to do wasn't it? How did this even happen? How did you end up here in the first place? How did your husband, the sweet, sweet Donghyuck end up standing in front of you with a gun pointing at you and your knife pointing at him?

20 hours before...

07:00 am...

The sun wasn't up yet, but here you were, wide awake as you stared at him. Even after being married for two years, it still felt like you were in the honeymoon phase. Donghyuck was good to you, he was caring, thoughtful, a tad over dramatic, but it was apart of his charm, you can't deny that. So, staring at him in the quiet of your small house was something you wouldn't give up for the world. 7 am and all you wanted was to be able to create the technology to craw inside his skin.

"Stop staring at me" Donghyuck mumbled, quickly feeling your cheeks go warm, you close your eyes in hopes of not being caught, even though you already were. "Don't close your eyes now" He chuckled out, gently grabbing your face and smothering you in small pecks all over your face.

The action made you giggle as you open your eyes and pretend to yawn. "What a way to wake up" You mumbled out, rubbing your eyes which made Donghyuck roll his.

"I know you were watching me sleep" He mumbled out, putting his arms above him to streak, his body twitching as he groaned.

"So what if I was?" You replied, leaning up on one arm to look down on him. Donghyuck looked at you with a sleepy smile as you bent down to peck his lips as they looked extra soft that morning. He softly moaned in pleasure and need, he chased your lips after you pulled away. "Don't lie, you love being watched"

Your tease went straight through his body as he gave you a smirk. "You saying you wanna watch me?"

"Maybe, it would be fun" You shrugged your shoulders, contemplating the idea of watching him pleasure himself in front of you.

Donghyuck furrowed his brows in hopes that you two were on the same wave length. "Are we thinking the same thing or are we still talking about you watching me sleep?"

"Depends, what would you be doing if I watched you?" Donghyuck gasped at your dirty words, covering his chest up with the covers.

"Mrs. Lee! You scoundrel! Taking advantage of a fair bachelor like myself" Donghyuck exclaimed, his voice going high and whiney to get into character. You laughed at his theatrics as he kept the covers up to his chin.

"A bachelor? What about that wedding band you have on?" You asked, grabbing his hand to rub your finger over the smooth band on his ring finger.

"That's decoration" He replied without a second thought which made you raise an eyebrow at him.

He smiled at you with all his teeth which made you fold for him. Shaking your head, you laid back down with your head on the soft pillows. "You're so dumb" You mumbled out, still holding his hand.

Donghyuck groaned, scooting closer to your warm body, tucking himself in your arms as he laid his head on your chest, flush to your neck. Your arms went around him, your nails gently scratching his back. "Five more minutes" He mumbled out, gently pressing a kiss to your neck as he sighed.

You should've said yes, should have said yes to him and his request. Knowing what you knew 20 hours later in the future, you would've stayed home with him instead, should've made him call out from work and you yourself call out from work. You two should've spend the day together, sleeping in, cuddled up to one another until it was time to get up. You two would've had a slow morning, talking in bed, kissing one another, have nice, slow sex, the kind that had you begging and begging for more, legs shaking as he mumbled obscenities into your ear. Or maybe he would let you take the lead, your soft touches leaving him shaking, his eyes blown out from how bad he wanted you to touch him, to feel you swallow him up. God, the sex you two would've had would never end if you had the choice. Then you'd take a shower together, continue the fun in there until your fingers pruned up and Donghyuck beg you to finish so he could have breakfast. Again, breakfast would be slow, you gently cooking as Donghyuck had his arms wrapped around your waist as he followed you around, pressing a kiss to your neck and cheek.

Instead, you gently groaned and pushed him away from you to get out of his grasp. "Can't, we have work, baby" You said, sitting up in your shared bed as you looked down at him. "What?" You ask, getting shy under his strong gaze.

The way he was looking at you, the way your hair was messy, his shirt on your body, the way the sun was slowly peaking in through the blinds and showered you in its warmth. The way it hit you just right that it looked like a halo over your body, Donghyuck thought he saw an angel with wings. You were so beautiful in his eyes, your body, your face, your eyes, your laugh, it was all otherworldly to him. How did he get so lucky? How did he end up with you? If he knew what he knew now, he would have convinced you to stay home with him. Two stupid kids in love, not knowing what would happen next.

"I love you" Donghyuck said and for some reason, it's like everything clicked. Your whole world fell into place, this was supposed to happen. You and Donghyuck meeting and falling in love, your whole life was leading up to this moment.

"I love you, too" You replied, your eyes filled with love and your body buzzing with how he was looking at you like you were the only person in the world.

Donghyuck hummed as he shook his head at you. "Not as much as me"

"Nah, I definitely love you more" You denied, crossing your legs as you threw your hand in your lap, not breaking eye contact with him.

"Nope, no way, I love you more" Donghyuck said, still laying down as he stared up at you.

You shrugged your shoulders again. "Maybe you do"

"I definitely do" He said with a nod of his head, his hair flopping around with the movement. You smiled at him as once again, everything fell into place. This was what your 24 years of living led up to, this was your place, this was where you belonged.

Sighing, you laid back down, his arms going around your frame. You inhaled his scent and it made your brain go fuzzy, your body warming him as he played with the ends of your hair and you listened to the pounding of his heart.

"You're making it hard to go to work, you know that?" You asked him, resting your chin on his chest as you looked at him.

His next words were hushed, a whisper that felt like a spell. "Then stay with me" How tempting those words sounded coming out of his mouth. His face still flushed with sleep, his eyes dropping as he felt himself slip back into it. How your body felt on his, how he could reach for you so easily and how you'd let him do anything to you. You never thought much about how much control he had over you, how you really would let him do anything to you, anything he wanted. You never thought how far that would go.

You groaned, shaking your head at him. "Mark will kill you if you don't clock in on time" Your hand gently tapping his chest as you tried to get up, but he held you down.

"Who cares what Mark thinks" Donghyuck grumbled out, wanting to reach for his phone and texting his work husband to go on the mission without him. Donghyuck wanted to stay home with his wife and sleep in.

You let him keep you to his chest as he closed his eyes, while yours were wide awake. "He is your boss"

"He's a partner"

“He's a position above you" You pointed out, turning your head so you ear was against his chest now.

You felt his chest vibrate as he sighed. "Fine, boss, partner, either way, stay home with me"

"You have work and I have work" You told him, so adamant to go to work and earn money. You wish you didn't.

"Then we call out" Donghyuck said like it was nothing, just another day that would go by. But that's not how the world worked, the two of your rent to pay, food to pay, and credit cards to pay off.

"We have rent to pay and bills coming up" You got up out of his grasp and hovered over his face. You gently pecked the moles on his face until you ended up kissing his lips. He responded immediately, his lips kissing yours and his tongue licking your lips to open your mouth. As you did, the kiss went further on as your tongues fought for dominance, hitting against one another as you straddled his hips, his hands resting on your hips, the grip strong you knew there would be hand prints.

He moaned into your mouth, wanting more and needing more as he moved your hips on him, making your whine. It all felt so good, the friction hitting you and making pleasure go up your spine. This was a dangerous game he was playing as you two still needed to get ready for work. Donghyuck pulled away and started leaving kissing down to your throat. He gently sucked on your neck as your hands ran through his hair, gently gripping as he moaned at the pleasure. Your breath got heavier the more he kissed and sucked, you knew he'd leave a mark but you didn't care. Your hips began to move on their own, your eyes closed in bliss.

"Stay here with me" He mumbled once again, sounding more and more like a command than a suggestion. You were about to let the word slip out of your mouth, a simple yes and your morning would end in a bang. But your eyes opened and caught the red numbers on the clock, 7:37.

"We're late" You replied, gently pushing him off your neck, hands on his shoulders as his gently massaged your hips. "We're so late" You said again, trying to ignore his lustful gaze on your body, the way his chest went up and down as he filled his lugs with air and his eyes glossy and blown out. God, he looked like sex and you wanted him so bad, but at the same time, you needed money.

Donghyuck smirked as he caught how flushed your cheeks were, how he could feel your pussy pulsing against him, knowing you wanted so much more. Knowing how you were so close to begging for him to fill you up until you couldn't remeber your name or the fact that you had work today. But, he was a teasing husband, so he nodded and leaned back against the head board.

"Fine, fine, we'll go clock in" Donghyuck agreed, you nodded your head, ready to get off his lap, until he leaned back in and held your hips flushed against him. He leaned in, his mouth close to yours as mumbled against it. "After work though, we can have all the fun we want"

"Deal"

—

A typical 9-5 was the plan, originally when you were in university for marketing, a simple 9-5 where you'd have lunch at one point in time, where you'd collab with others to make profit and where you'd be able to put your degree to use. Except, that didn't happen. Instead, you graduated with a marketing degree, found no job and almost ended up homeless. Until, you found yourself drinking at a hole in the wall bar when a woman approached you. The conversation was normal, asking how you were and vise versa, asking if you had a job and you saying no. It was a normal conversation until the job topic, she handed you a card with her name and an address. She told you to meet her there the next day to talk about a position.

You were desperate, so you said yes. A job offering? If anything, you hope your drunken state didn't scare her off. But why would it scare her off if she gave you her card before she left? You didn't know, but the next morning you went to the shady address and ended up at a building you passed by everyday. You assumed it was a normal building for business people, somewhere you thought you belonged, but didn't.

You walked in through the glass doors and found a woman sitting at a receptionist desk. You quietly approached her and showed her the card the other woman gave you. The girl looked up from her computer and all you could think was woah, she's young, maybe a few years younger than you, but still. The girl you learned, her name was Miyeon and she was working here part time, working hard to be full time as all the people who work here are cool. Cool? The people who work here are cool? You guessed they were, but you honestly didn't remember the woman who gave you the card. Miyeon told you to use the elevator and go to the fourth floor, that was the floor you were looking for as all the other floors were used for training.

You nodded and made your way up. The elevator was sleek like no other, the metal cold as it dinged you up to the fourth floor. As you exited, your senses were hit with the smell of roses and your heart was pounding. Something was off, the way the fourth floor was laid out was like a normal office, but it didn't feel that way. Cubicles filled with women typing away or having a headset on, saying weird code words that sounded off. Execute, get information, denominate, and other obscene words that made you feel uncomfortable. What kind of office used that language? As you made your way down the aisle to the big back office that was made of glass, some of the women looked at you with raised brows, like they were examining you. Some of them were whispering to one another, sharing words you wanted to know. Did you dress wrong? You put on your best clothes for today, a fancy pencil skirt and a blouse you knew was within typical office dress code. Maybe your heels made too much noise when you walk, you didn't know.

However, you heard your name being called and looked up to see the women who approached you walk up to you with open arms, pulling you close and kissing your cheeks. You followed her into her office and sat down, handing her your resume. She gladly took it, your eyes landed on her name fame and it said Mantis. Mantis? What an odd name .

The interview went as normal, questions being asked and answered, however, Mantis asked some weird questions. Asking if you ever did martial arts, maybe knew how to fight, did you know how to use weapons? Guns? Knives? All these weird questions you thought were inappropriate, but you answered them in hopes that you'd get the job. You didnt know how to use a gun, but knives you had some experience since your family made you take some self defense classes as a kid.

All in all, it ended up with you being employed and started training the next morning. So, that's how you ended up here, a hit woman. You never thought you'd end up here, about to quit on the first day when you learned that training was fight training and not learning how to use Excel and Microsoft Word. However, you needed moneys and the only way to get out as a new hire was to die, no one could know about this line of work.

"Mako, you're late" Your handler, Lyra said, her eyes in slits as she walked up to your cubicle, leaning on your desk as you sighed. Mako and Lyra were code names, only ever referring to your coworkers as such. It helped keep your identities safe, no need for using your real names in this line of work. Code names are given by Mantis, your boss, the person who owns this whole operation.

You sighed, sitting in your chair as you crossed your legs. "I know, my husband kept me hostage basically" You explained, leaning back in your chair as you looked up at Lyra.

She shook her head, her mind still not grasping how someone of your caliber could get married. "Still can't believe you got hitched"

"Me either, wasn't exactly in the plan" You replied, sounding sad, yet you smiled so fondly at the thought of your husband sitting at his desk with a picture of the two of you on it.

"Or in the contract either, you're lucky Mantis likes you" Lyra added on, which made you cringe at how careless you were when it came to falling in love with Donghyuck.

The contract stated that marriage and partners were off the table. It was for everyone's safety, especially yours. If you get married or have a romantic partner, if anyone caught wind of it, you and everyone you love was in danger. However, you didn't think about the contract when Donghyuck first came up to you at the grocery store, you didn't think about the contract when he asked you out, took you to dinner, or when you ended up in his bed. You sure as hell didn't think of it either when you said your vows to him. The contract wasn't real in your mind when it came to Donghyuck, so when you asked Mantis for a few weeks off for your Honeymoon, she did give you an earful. She told you it was a breach of contract, that it wasn't allowed, it was frowned upon and most importantly, if you weren't careful, you could die.

You, however, assured her you'd be careful, you'd continue work like normal, but Donghyuck was your lifeline now. You weren't going anywhere and neither was Donghyuck, you two were a team, inseparable. Your determination to continue working while being married, and also being one of Mants's best employee had its advantages. Mantis, although still angry with you, let you have your way. After all, you made her a shit ton of money with your intel and assassinations.

"Mantis likes me because I have the most kills" You replied, saying it like it's normal. Saying it like you didn't kill people, just like it was another day in the office.

Lyra sighed as she thought back to when you two first met. "Who would've thought. I still remember your bambi eyed stare when you walked into the training room"

"I didn't think this place was that king of company" You joked, the two of you laughing at the memory of your training days. How shit of a fighter you were, but how clever you came out to be.

"You enjoyed it, don't lie" Lyra replied, pointing out how even though you were shit at fighting, it made you want to work harder and eventually you ended up loving it.

"I do" You nodded, being content with how your job turned you into the person you are today. "Has it been 3 years already?"

"About to be four in a couple months" Lyra pointed out, gently tapping your desk with the maxilla folder she still had yet to mention. "Be happy, you set a record at being a newbie and having more kills than the veterans" She whispered, making the two of you laugh as you're both somewhat new to the job.

"Heard that!" You both heard one of your seniors yell as she walked past the two of you.

This only made the two of you laugh a bit louder, Lyra mumbling a small, "Sorry, Aries!"

"You're gonna get us in trouble with her, you know that" You laughed at her, gently smack her arm as you put a hand in front of your mouth to hide your laughter.

"Sorry, sorry" Lyra chuckled out, clearing her throat as she silently locked into what she needed to tell you. Holding up the manila folder, she gave her a tense smile. "So, you have a new mission"

"Another one? Didn't I just kill a guy?" You groaned, knowing you just got off of a mission a solid two days ago. It was a simple mission, simple poison and he was gone.

Lyra nodded, but sighed a bit. "Yeah, but this one is different, come on let's go, we gotta discuss"

You sighed as she grabbed your arm and pulled you along to one of the private rooms to discuss the mission. Missions weren't as common as most people think, mostly your job was to get intel from people, gangs, companies, it was like you were a private investigator. However, those were mostly things you guys called tasks, missions were worth more money and were more dangerous. Your first mission was something that haunted you, but the money was too good to not do again. Killing people slowly became something you did like breathing. It got to a point where it was easy, desensitizing, and it scared you, but you knew you were doing something right. The people you killed were criminals, people who killed innocent kids and mothers, tortured husbands and random people on the street. You knew what you were doing was right, but it didn't meant it didn't haunt you, because it did. You still have nightmares sometimes.

Donghyuck would comfort you during those nightmares, thinking you watched a scary movie before sleeping. At least that's what you would tell him. Donghyuck didn't know your line of work, didn't know you were a hit woman, he just assumed you did marketing for a small business that paid you well. Donghyuck could never know what you do, it was too dangerous.

"So, what's the mission this time?" You asked Lyra, wanting to get it over with to come home in time to be with your husband. "Killing a criminal? A drug dealer? Rapist? What is it?" You asked, leaning back into the plush chair, your body relaxed as you had been through this so many times you lost count.

"Actually, you know our rivals right?" Lyra asked, your body going ridged and straightening up with tension. "The people who keep stealing our intel and selling it as their own?"

"NCT? Yeah, I know them" They were annoying little bugs. You'd heard rumors about them, sometimes running into them when you're both hired for the same job, but other than that, they're secretive like your company. Except for the fact that they steal your work and claim it as their own, little snakes. They've been on your companies radar for the past few years, Mantis doing everything in her power to take them down, but they're good at hiding themselves.

"Well, one of them kinda slipped up and we got them on camera. His name is Haechan, he's a hit man and he killed one of our allies for intel on us and what we have to sell, so we need him executed" Lyra reported to you, her voice formal as you nodded your head, yet it tilted in confused at his name.

"Haechan?" You asked, slight interest going up at the playfulness of his sunshine name. "Such a bright codename for a killer" You pointed out, Lyra agreed with you and sighed.

"Yeah, but that's his name" Lyra finally slid the manila folder holding all the information the company had on him, his name, photo, approximate height and stature. "Here's his file"

"Thanks" You mumbled out, opening it up and your body went cold. Heart pounding, yet not strong enough as it felt faint in your chest, your breath coming in short huffs as you stare at the photo infront of you. It's right there, Donghyuck's face staring right at you like he was taunting you. "That's not possible" You whispered to yourself, his beautiful face staring back at you.

You were convinced it was fake, it had to be. Maybe it was a clone, maybe it wasn't him and it was a trick of the light. But no, it was him, it was Donghyuck. His face moles all in the right spot, the same spots you kissed every night and morning, honestly any chance you could your lips would be pressed against his moles. Now, they were marks that you had to hit. Your silence and wide eyes concerned Lyra as she furrowed her brows, leaning down a bit to try to catch your gaze.

"Mako, everything okay?" She asked, her voice laced with concern, but in your mind, it was all fuzzy as it went through one ear and out the other. "Mako?" Lyra asked again, her voice a bit louder and it finally caught your attention.

"Everything's fine" You mumbled out, giving her a weak smile as you swallowed hard. You cleared your throat and closed the manila folder to encase Donghyuck's face. "So, I just need to kill him?" The words coming out so carefully, like if you said it into existence it would happen right then and there.

Kill him? Kill Donghyuck? The man you were going to spend the rest of your life with? How could you do that? How could that just be another day in the office? Kill Donghyuck. You can't do that, it was hard to even be mad at him, but you have to, it's your job.

Lyra nodded, not caring about how insane this is sounding to you. "Yeah, basically" Your mind kept replaying the same words over and over again. Another day in the office.

But wait, kill Donghyuck? A member of your rival company? Why not use him? Keep him alive, not just for your own selfish reasons, but for intel on NCT and how they work. Donghyuck could be useful to Mantis, and Mantis is anything, but wasteful, so why waste Donghyuck? Why get rid of him when she could use him?

"I don't need to keep him alive for dirt on NCT?" You asked, furrowing your brows and trying to stay in your Mako character. "I figured Mantis would want something like that"

"No, Mantis just said to execute him"

Again, this confused you so much. Why kill off someone you can use? It defeated the purpose of anything. "But why? He works with NCT, you'd think she'd want information on them and take them down, why kill someone you could use to your advantage?"

"I don't know, but Mantis knows what she's doing" Lyra said with full confidence in your boss. Mantis is smart, Mantis always had the answer for everything, o of course you trusted her with your life, but again, this all seemed so careless.

"If you say so" However, you had to have trust in what you were doing, so you let it go. "So, when do I need to kill him by?"

"In 12 hours"

You got up out of your seat, eyes wide as the chair rolled away from you. "What?! 12 hours?" You voice loud that it caught Lyra off guard and made her confused.

"Yeah, that's not a problem is it?" She asked, making you blink twice and think about your outburst. Oh, right, Mako, who can kill so well and here you are, freaking out. "You usually knock them out in less then 10"

Your spine straightened up and you nodded. "Right, yeah, right" You quickly grabbed the chair behind you and cleared your throat, taking a seat. "Proceed" You instructed Lyra who just looked at you weird.

"Okay, what's going on? You're acting weird about this" She asked, putting her hands on the table to get a closer look at you. She can't know, she can't know that you unknowingly married Haechan from NCT, that'll ruin you. Not to mention, Mantis would kill you.

"Nothing, it's nothing" So, you shook your head as you trued to act a little sick. "Just, you know, feeling a little under the weather" You replied, coughing a bit and putting a hand to your head like it hurt.

Thank God for your skills at acting because Lyra bought it, at least you hope she did. "Oh, no, I'm sorry"

"It's fine, don't worry" You saying, sniffing to really sink it in that you're a little under the weather. "Uh, I'll get it done soon"

"Okay, just don't forget about the report you have to do after" Lyra reminded you in a soft voice, not wanting to make your head more.

"How can I forget?" You asked, staring down at the manila folder, opening it up and ignoring Haechan's photo staring at you. "So, where am I going to...to..."

"Kill Haechan?" Lyra finished your sentence, not wanting to say those two words that held so much weight to them.

You looked up at her and took in a deep breath. "Yeah" You breathed out, Lyra thinking you took a deep breath to fill your congested lungs and not because you were feeling heavy at the idea of holding your knife to your husband's throat.

"Sources say he's going to have lunch with his partner on 127th avenue"

127th avenue? There was only one place Donghyuck would ever have dinner, he took you there on your first date, took you there for your first month-aversary, he takes those things seriously, and he took you there whenever you asked because you knew it made him happy. It was a little Italian place, family owned and had great food, but Donghyuck only ever went for their garlic bread. It was a cute place, cozy and warm like Donghyuck, he got excited every time you asked him if you could skip making dinner and just go eat out there. It held a lot of good memories, so now that you had to go there to end his memories and end the ones that you thought you'd continue to have, it was a full circle moment you didn't want to happen.

"The Italian place?" You asked, your voice cracking as the memories of Donghyuck making you laugh and giving you recommendations to food came to your mind. How he held your hand the whole time, how he insisted you two sat next to one another rather than sitting across from you, how he would pick from your plate and beg you to feed him. All those memories would be taken from him, because of you.

"Yeah, you know it?" Lyra asked, taking you away from your thoughts and you shook your head.

"No, I don't, just assumed"

"Oh, okay, well yeah, Haechan's meeting his partner there for dinner, we're assuming he's also NCT affiliated, but Mantis said to not intervene with Mark, your target is only Haechan"

Mark? As in Mark Lee? As in Donghyuck's boss/partner Mark? Just how many of Donghyuck's friends were apart of NCT? Well, it would be obvious that Mark would be apart of NCT since he works in the company as well, but what about the ones you met but didn't know how they met Donghyuck. You only met Mark by accident, running into them while walking around town, seeing that familiar head of hair you yelled his name. Looking back at it, you should have known something was off, how his back tensed up, how he turned around and didn't meet you with the same wide smile he usually gives you, how he didn't smother you in kisses like he usually does, even if he was in public, and how Mark looked at him with dagger in his eyes. Was marriage also a breach of their contract like it was yours? Did Donghyuck never tell his coworkers he got married? You should have known something was suspicious after that meeting, how Mark kept rushing and how Donghyuck looked uncomfortable, and you? You just kept talking and kept inviting Mark to have dinner with the two of you sometime since you never met any of Donghyuck's friends.

"Mark?" You questioned, your mind going back to that first meeting and all the others that came after it. "Sick son of a bitch" You mumbled under your breath.

"What was that?" Lyra asked, looking at you with raised brows.

You shook your head, looking back up at her and closing the manila folder as you finished reading all the info they had on Haechan. "Nothing, just, get my bag ready and I'll follow his lead"

"You got it"

6 hours later....

2:30 pm....

You knew Donghyuck's schedule by the back of your hand, so you knew what time his lunch would be. Sure enough, by 2:30 pm he sent you a text message, saying he was at lunch and going to get food with Mark. He didn't tell you where, but with the source you got, sure enough, you saw the taxi pull up and Donghyuck get out. You were in the restaurant, a wig on, sunglasses, and a coat covering your figure. You sat in the back corner, sipping on your water as you catch the two walk in.

"Mako to Lyra, sunshine walked in" You mumbled, your earpiece picking up your voice to send the message to Lyra your handler at corporate.

"Lyra to Mako, copy" She said in your ear.

The two sat down, five tables over and diagonal from you. Due to the small nature of the restaurant, you knew you had to act as normal as possible while watching your husband and from across the dining room. Your eyes left his figure periodically, going back every now and then as you continued on like this was your normal lunch break. Glasses of water and two entrees later, Donghyuck and Mark asked for the bill and paid. You watched his movements closely, how he buttoned his coat, how he pushed his chair back in and how he ran a hand through his hair. His soft hair, how you wished it was your hands running through it, how you knew if you gripped it the right way on the back of his neck, he'd whimper softly into your ear and his body would turn to putty in your hands.

"Mako!" You were brought out of your trance as Lyra yelled your name and Donghyuck looked straight at you. You froze, not only did you lose focus, but Donghyuck sees you, and you can't tell if he knows it's you or if he thinks a random woman is staring at a married man. "Mako! Do you copy?" Lyra yelled into your ear piece, but your eyes didn't tear away from Donghyuck as he continued to stare at you.

You quickly averted your gaze and looked away, the stare being too intense that it scared you. Clearing your throat you asked for the bill and paid, looking up to see that Donghyuck was gone. "Shit" You mumbled. "Mako to Lyra, I lost him"

"What? You lost him!" Lyra yelled into your ear, your hand going up to your ear piece to soothe your aching ear. You quickly got up from your chair and rushed outside the restaurant.

"It's fine! I'll find him" You assured her, looking left and right, but you didn't see him. You sighed as you heard Lyra sigh is disappointed.

"You better" She mumbled out, disconnecting your call as you took in a deep breath and made your way to the left, following whatever instinct you had.

Walking blocks and blocks, your heels were tiring you out. No one knew where NCT headquarters was, no one else had a lead on Haechan's where about, right now, you were close to giving up. You walked around the city for hours, looking down alleyways, looking into shops, glancing at anyone who looked remotely like your husband. You changed your disguise ten different times so no one could catch on to you. Your day was getting long, but maybe this was a good thing, it was a good thing Haechan got out of your sight, that way you wouldn't have to kill him. But then again, if you couldn't do your job, someone else would, someone else would kill your husband.

Maybe it was better for you to kill him, that way you could postpone it as long as you could, yeah, you'll do that. You'll tell Mantis a lie, say you had a showdown with him and he got away, but you know where he went, you say you can track him down and that you two were playing a cat and mouse game together. However, you knew Mantis and she would never agree to let you play childish games with someone apart of NCT, it was reckless.

7:40 pm

5 hours and 50 minutes remaining....

The sun was setting, your time was running around and your tenth disguise was starting to lose its charm. Staying in one disguise for too long would cause suspicion for some, especially for you. It was smart to constantly change so no one would notice you walking back and forth. Since it was turning nightfall, the sun going to sleep and the moon coming out to play, your last disguise was a black dress, a black dress with the same black heels you've been wearing and your hair down out of its updo. As you flawlessly changed in the midst of the busy streets, you knew where Donghyuck would go after a long day at work, the bar.

You tapped your ear piece and the line connected to Lyra. "Mako to Lyra, I've spotted him" You lied through your teeth.

"Lyra to Mako, you got eyes on him? Copy" You hear Lyra say on the other line, her fingers tapping on her keyboard.

You hummed as your heels clacked on the pavement to your destination. "He's at a bar, the one off of Dream street"

You heard Lyra hum on the other line. "Copy, you need backup? Is he with Mark?"

"Don't need backup, Mark is no where to be seen" You replied since you knew Mark always stayed after hours to get work done as Donghyuck would tell you.

"That guy overworks himself, I don't know how he does it" Donghyuck would say over dinner, sipping on his beer as you sipped on your wine. "He gets to work early and leaves super late, complete opposite of me. I get to work late and run out of that damn office like it's on fire"

"Why do you want to leave so early?" You asked, tilting your head like a confused dog. You set down your glass of wine, your eyes and attention solely on him. Donghyuck smirked as he looked at you, his beautiful wife.

It's like he was transported back to your wedding day, how you looked in your white dress, how he felt watching you walk down the aisle and how he felt when you said those words, "I do". Oh, how he dreamed that'd he'd wake up and it would be his wedding day all over again, how the nerves in his stomach would flutter around making him feel light, how his mind was filled with you and your memories together, and how he knew that in a couple of hours you would be his in every humanly way possible. So, of course, there was only one reason why Donghyuck would run out of the office like it was up in flames.

"To see my pretty girl" He flirted, his lips puckering up as he blew a kiss to you. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you knew he was just saying that to be in your good graces. Happy wife, happy life, a motto Donghyuck lived by.

"You mean to get a drink at the bar" You called him out, your wine glass coming to your lips as Donghyuck faked a gasp, before chuckling.

"That's only on Fridays"

Which happens to be today. God, you were hoping he wasn't there, you were hoping that when you walked in that little dive bar he wouldn't be drinking a beer or any other concoction he felt like drinking. "Drinks on Fridays. Please skip it, please be the one day you don't come"

Please, don't be sitting there at the bar, up on a stool as he drank his afternoon beer away. You kept mumbling it, don't be there, don't be there, be walking home, be home and call me saying where I was, be home, cooking, making us food before we watch a movie and sleep on the couch. Please, don't be at the bar. It's all you kept telling yourself as your heels clicked on the parent, your steps going faster and your lungs burning as you breathed in the air. God, please don't be there.

You turned the corner, the sum was slowly being covered by grey clouds and the sight sky. Soon enough you saw the dive bar come in your point of view. The shitty LED sign buzzing and flickering its name, people already hanging outside of it, smoking cigarettes and talking. You walked up to the doors, pulling your ID out and went inside. As soon as you went in, the smell of beer and cigarettes hit your nose, inhaling you looked around, growing the looks the men around you gave you. Walking in slowly, hoping to not get noticed by your husband, you searched for him.

"Please" You whispered to yourself, your heart beating faster and faster as you approach the bar. As the crowd slowly got thinner the closer you got, the more you could see. Your breath fell out of your lips as you didn't see him, he wasn't here.

The bar stools not being occupied by your husband. He wasn't here. Donghyuck wasn't here, if he wasn't here that means he was at home, at home and safe and can live another day before someone else grabbed him. Maybe you'd run home, run home and tell him everything, tell him you needed to leave, to run, to change identities and live off the grid. You'd run away together, life together in hiding and it would just be the two of you again. No rivalries, no marks on your backs.

Yeah, that's what you'll do. So, with a smile on your face, you turned your body around, ready to run home and share your plan with Donghyuck. You couldn't wait to tell him, but even then, to tell him what exactly? That you were sent to kill him? Sent to en his life just as easy as he entered yours? And for what? Money? Would Donghyuck even want to still be married to you after revealing that? Would he still want to love you and be with you?

But your mind was made up. All the afterthoughts would come later, because you loved him so much more than a lousy paycheck. Turning around, a smile on your face, ready to start a new life, and you end up ramming yourself into someone. Looking up, your brain didn't register who it was yet, all you knew was that it was your husband.

"Oh, hey baby" You said with a smile, not thinking anything of it until you remember where you were, you remembered who you were and what you had to do. "Donghyuck!" You gasped, hand coming to your chest as you breathed in. "You scared me, what're you doing here?" You asked him, trying to catch his breath as he just looked at you.

gaze was different, it was something you noticed, something your assassin brain realized. Haechan was suspicious. "I can ask you the same thing" He said, his gaze looking you up and down, why were you in a black dress at a dive bar?

"Uh, I wanted to surprise you, duh" You said, trying to act cute for him. A pout here, your voice an octave higher and your eyes shining up at him like you weren't planning to kill him and then convince him to run away.

"You never surprise me" He said, his voice low as he looked down at you. His brows furrowed, lips downturned and not in their usual pout that you grew to love.

He was right, you never did surprise him. Surprises weren't your thing, you could never do them right and never did them justice. Even then, your idea of a surprise was making his favorite dinner on a random day and saying 'I made your favorite'. Donghyuck wasn't surprised by your actions though, as he always picked up on what you bought and would usually put two and two together. But, he'd still act surprised and shocked when you would tell him, wanting to make you feel special and loved. And even though you knew he knew, you still felt your heart swell when he'd say how surprised he was and how it was the best surprise.

It's why you fell in love with him. How he'd look at you with such love, how he'd bend over backwards to please you just because he wanted to. Donghyuck wanted to do things for you, he didn't do them out of a husband obligation, he did them because he wanted to see you smile. So, if it meant pretending, then he'd gladly do it. Pretending, is that what he's doing right now?

"Well, isn't that a surprise in of it self?" You questioned, trying so hard to not sound suspicious, even though he's already caught onto your little act: "Surprise!" You said happily, reaching up to pull him into a hug.

His arms instinctively went around your waist as yours went around his neck. You inhaled him and your knees went weak, your heart skipping a beat with the way he gripped your waist. Pulling away, you looked at him, hoping your cuteness and oblivious act payed off.

"Come on, let's go for a walk" He said, cocking his head to the door outside. You nodded as he grabbed your hand and led you outside.

Your stomach was churning, something wasn't right about this. Why talk outside? Sure, it's a little packed in the bar, but it isn't horrid, you two could still talk out here. As he lead you past the crowd of men, the air felt different. It wasn't was light as it used to be before you saw Haechan, it wasn't as breathable, because right now it was so thick and stuffy, your breaths were short huffs.

Your body was itching, your stomach feeling sick and Haechan's grip was too strong. He knew. He had to know, you couldn't help but think that he knew you were following him, he knew who you were and what you work for, he has to. Haechan was acting too cold, too nonchalant, he didn't smother you in kisses when you hugged him, he didn't pout and whine when you pulled away—in fact, he was the first he was the first one to pull out of your hug. The man pulling you out of the dive bar wasn't Donghyuck, your husband, but Haechan, the assassin from NCT.

This wasn't going to end well. But, maybe he'd have mercy on you, you are his wife after all. Maybe he'll let you explain and you'll tell him everything, tell him how you don't want to kill him, you want to run away with him and start over, be normal and actually have a normal 9 to 5 job, or even be a stay at like wife like some sick fairy tale ending. You don't know, but all you know is that Haechan knows what you're up to and you can't tell if he'll give you a chance to explain or your marriage was going to end in a death.

The air was colder now, a little sticky with the humidity. "Is it going to rain?" You asked, your question going unanswered as Donghyuck kept walking down the alley way. "Donghyuck, baby, where are we going?" You asked again and yet it goes ignored once more.

He just kept dragging you, turning corners, leading you to the dock where a lake was. This dock was where all the neighboring businesses collect their stock. "What are we doing here?"

You knew exactly why you were here. This dock, despite it being used 98% of the time, when it was dead night and everyone was out, this dock was secluded. Your nerves were buzzing throughout your body, he was just standing in front of you, ignoring your words as you stare at his back.

Donghyuck was contemplating. He was staring out at the water, how its soft waves reminded him of your soft voice, how gentle you were and yet when you wanted to, you were a storm of emotions he wanted to be drowned in. God, you were everything to him, he loved you so much, all these years of being yours, only to find you following him around.

It was odd, you following him. Your disguise might fool the people you kill, but it could never fool Donghyuck. "You know, you're not the only one who stares when sleeping" He said, his words conflicting as you stared back at him.

"What do you mean?" You ask, trying to act as normal as possible, but again, your instincts were itching at you to grab your knives hidden on your thigh. If only you could reach for them.

It was a conflicting feeling, wanting to reach for your knives despite your husband standing right in front of you. You knew you had to kill him, yet you can't you want to tell him everything and run away, and yet, you can't tell if he'll let you explain or go out fighting. All you knew was that the way Donghyuck was acting, you don't know if you'll come out talking. Did he want to fight? Did he want this to end this way? His guns blazing and your knives trying to cut him? You can't tell and it's making you paranoid. Maybe he had back up, maybe Mark was up on one of the building rooftops telling him, Haechan, she's reaching for her knives. You don't know what he's thinking, he's usually so open about everything, you can read him like a child's book, and right now, it's like you're looking at the worlds hardest language and trying to decipher it.

You can't, you can't read him, you can't see him and you can't understand him.

"I watch you too, when you sleep" He replied, his words so careful and so steady that it's throwing you off. No way Donghyuck, the man who loves you more than anything or anyone in this world is going to want to fight you. "Your face is so engraved in my memory that I can so easily spot you out in a crowd. It's funny"

"How?" You asked, confused at how him memorizing your face so much that it's carved into his brain is funny. "I just think it means you love me. Don't you think?"

Donghyuck hummed, he loves you so much. Your face is carved in his brain forever, it's so recognizable, so easy to find. "Yeah, I do love you"

"I love you too" You mumbled out, for some reason, you felt tears in your eyes. Hot, burning and blinding tears, you don't even notice how Donghyuck is reaching for the inside of his jacket.

"I just never thought I'd recognize your face in a silly disguise following me around town" He mumbled out, his words too soft for you to even hear them or to process them. "Let alone, be recognizable enough to be traced back as Mako"

Your world fell apart. How? What? How did he know? How did anyone know? You kept your alias a secret your work place was anonymous, everyone who hired you didn't know who you were, you kept yourself hidden when doing your assassins. How did anyone find out? How did he find out?

"What?" You questioned, your word coming out more like a squeak. "Wh-what're you taking about?"

"You're not as careful as you think you are, Mako" Your codename falling from his lips so naturally it made your breath hitch. "You had a run in with one of NCT's snipers not too long ago, maybe a year back" He said, finally turning around and your eyes locked onto his stone cold face and then trailed down to his hand holding his shiny gun. You felt your heart crack a little, he wasn't even going to let you explain. How did he know? "TY, kinda tall, had pale blonde hair? You two were in Seventh City, ring any bells?"

Your face faltered. "Oh, no" You mumbled, the air getting knocked out of your breath as you remembered that mission.

1 year ago...

10:57 pm...

You were only a second year assassin and you were already climbing up the ranks. Kill after kill, intel after intel and paycheck after paycheck and despite being a newlywed, you didn't stop. It was normal to run into other companies doing the same job as you for other customers, but running into an NCT affiliate? That never happened. Yes, you both were rivals and always tried to get the better information to sell or people to kill for a greater profit, yet, you both never ran into one another. NCT and your company would always luck out on one another, either a customer chose you over NCT or vise versa.

Your paths never crossed until that night. It was a clear and cold night, you were inside the building and waking down the dark hallways filled with windows. As you approached the double doors leading to the office of a man who your client hired you to kill, you knocked gently. The other side let out a loud "What", making you mumble your words.

"CEO Lim, I'm here to give you your mail" You said in a sickly sweet voice as you reached down to your holster to grab your knives.

"What? What mail? It's nearly 8 o'clock" He said, his voice tired and annoyed by your presence.

You knocked once more, ignoring his calls for you to shut up and go home. You kept knocking, knock after knock until he got so fed up with you that with great strides, he opened up his door.

"Shut up! Are you stupid? I told you I don't want your goddamn mai—" His words were cut off with a simple stab to the stomach. His voice gurgling as he looked down at your figure, your hair covering your face as you quickly took out your knife and looked up at him.

"Mr. Park says hello" You said, a smile being offered to him as he began to step back, his hands clutching his stomach to stop the bleeding.

"Mr. Lim, that's not going to work" You said with confidence, watching at the foot of the entrance as he walked back to his desk, limping in pain. "If you're reaching for you gun, it isn't there"

Pulling out his gun from your other leg. He looked at you in bewilderment as you held it up and gawked it around like it was a trophy. "I raided your office during your lunch hour. Wasn't that hard to seduce your staff"

You tsked, throwing the gun off somewhere as you walked over to him, his blood still pooling out of his stomach where you stabbed him. You gently tapped his shoulder and he fell into his chair. Sighing, you grabbed his necktie and pull him closer to you, your other hand holding his knife to his throat as he remained silent and his breaths staggering as he bled out.

"Now, I'm going to make this as painless as possible, okay?" You asked, your smile conflicting the situation. How can you smile during this? How can you smile knowing you're going to kill a man?

This line of work was never easy, your first few kills always haunting you. And yet, you always came back, it was the sick part of you that you enjoyed. Knowing you killed people who wronged others, that's what kept you coming back. That and the paycheck was always too good.

As you finished your mission, you looked down at the lifeless body covered in his own blood. Taking in deep breaths you wiped off your knives with your fingers, the blood making a sloshing sound as it fell to the carpet floor. You pressed your finger to your ear piece turning it on as you called for your handler.

"Mako to Lyra, finished the job. Send in clean up" You ordered, looking out at the huge window his office had. It was a nice night, a nice night that is going to end in sweet sex with your husband who was patiently waiting at home.

"Lyra to Mako, copy, sending in clean up crew" Lyra repeated. The line went cold as you continued to look outside the window.

You admired the city, how at night it looked so calm, the bright lights illuminating the dark streets. It was like stars almost, hey there'd even a star out there flickering. Wait a minute, that's not a star.

Turning back on your earpiece, your voice echoed in Lyra's mind. "Mako to Lyra, we have company"

"Who?" Lyra asked, her voice perking up as this usually never happened.

"I'm about to find out"

"Mako wait, wait for back—" You cut her off as you began to walk out of the office. Your feet fast as your heels clacked against the floor.

Once you made it outside the building, you quickly entered the next, the doors sliding open as the front desk receptionist said a curt hello to you. You nodded, making your way to the elevator, riding up to the top floor. You waited patiently, watching as the lights above you dinged with each passing floor.

8, 9, 10, it was at the 11th floor that the doors opened up. A man with blonde hair in a nice suit with a brief case walked in. He gave you a small nod as he went to hit the top floor button, but realized oh, you had already pushed it. Question was, why would someone who's on the 11th floor want to go up to the 12th floor if he could just take the stairs.

Ah ha. Your brain made the connection as you both hit the 12th floor and none of you came out. It was eerily silent, no one saying a word and yet you both knew who you were. Assassins. However, he worked on rooftops, so a sniper and whatever he had in that briefcase was his weapon of choice no doubt about it, it was a gun.

"Lyra to Mako, copy, sending in clean up crew" Lyra repeated. The line went cold as you continued to look outside the window.

Turning back on your earpiece, your voice echoed in Lyra's mind. "Mako to Lyra, we have company"

"Who?" Lyra asked, her voice perking up as this usually never happened.

"I'm about to find out"

"Mako wait, wait for back—" You cut her off as you began to walk out of the office. Your feet fast as your heels clacked against the floor.

"You stole my kill" He mumbled out, the elevator starting its way back down. 10th floor.

You furrowed your brows, not daring to look at him as you could easily see one another through the steel doors. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"You stole my kill" He said again, his voice stern as his grip on his briefcase made his knuckles go white.

You snapped your fingers, faking putting two and two together. "You mean CEO Lim?" You asked, your voice all happy compared to his.

"He was mine to kill"

You clicked your tongue and shook your head, your body relaxed compared to his stiff body. "Not according to my boss, he was mine"

"I was the one who was hired, not you" He pointed out, the elevator continuing to go down. 7th floor.

"Sure you were tough guy" You joked, making yourself chuckle as he remained stiff. "Say, why be a sniper when you can get all the action up close?"

"Why be an assassin when you can't even kill the man properly. You prolonged his death and for what? Some sick sadistic reason?"

"Client needed more info so I got more info. Snipers are always rushing. One after the other, one bullet and so forth. You don't listen to your clients when they say torture the guy for more info" You ranted on about snipers and your distaste for them.

It's not that you hated snipers, they were fine for your field of work. Heck, you were friends with snipers, 98% of your company works as snipers, only 2% are assassins like yourself. Snipers are fine, they're just too quick. They want as many kills in as little time as possible, they see their target, they pull the trigger. Snipers are trigger happy and it pisses you off sometimes because as an assassin, torture was the only way to get more info and get a bigger pay check. Eventhough it is more personal, you earned more money and you were more careful. Snipers are careless creatures, who again, care more about a kill count then the clients who hired you.

"Snipers are quick, we don't prolong a death for extra info the clients won't pay for" Taeyong replied sternly, feeling offended by the perception you had of him.

"Well this client did. Maybe talk to your handler and boss, they'll make better deals for you" You boasted, thinking about the raise you earned for this mission.

Taeyong scoffed, annoyed at how money hungry you are. "We don't make last minute deals"

"Right, because NCT is just so quick with their kill count" You mumbled out, watching the light change from the 5th floor to the 4th. Times almost up.

Taeyong whipped his head to look at you, the first time since this elevator ride, he finally looked at you. "How'd you know I was NCT affiliate?"

Slowly turning your head to look at him, your eyes studied his body. Clean cut black suit, Italian leather shoes, a rolex, none the doubt that was modified to some sort of hidden weapon, maybe even his pager. Sighing, you looked at him with a blunt look, NCT affiliates are so easy to track.

"Your suit, the stitching is neon green in some lighting. You guys aren't as smart as you think you are. Some uniform" You pointed out, Taeyong's eyes glancing down at his suit and sure enough, in some lighting you could see the neon green stitching.

He looked back up at you and you raised an eyebrow at him. How could he one up you? Oh, he knows how. "Okay little miss Widow"

Now it was your turn to be surprised by this. "How'd you—"

"Your knife handle has a spider engraved on it. A bit on the nose, don't you think?" He asked, remembering how he looked through his sights to see your knives. Sure enough, there was a spider on it, Widows.

"I don't need the sass from an NCT" You shot back, annoyance running through your body.

He looked back at you with the same annoyance. "And I don't need a Widow stealing my kills"

You groaned out loud as your body slumped, it's not your fault two different clients hired two different people to do their dirty work. "I didn't steal your kill, you psycho! Clearly we were both hired by two different people, every think of that Sherlock?" You asked him, waiting for his response, but sure enough the elevator hit the 1st floor. Looking at the opening door, you glanced back at him, ready to leave. "Now, if you'll excuse me"

"How you know I won't follow you?" Taeyong asked, watching as you clicked your heels on the cold tile floor as you were walking away from him.

Your steps came to a hault, turning around to look at Taeyong who remained in the elevator, his arm stopping the doors from closing in on him. "Because then what's the fun in that?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Taeyong stared at you and you stared back at him. It was a mutual agreement that didn't need words, one that you both understood. Don't kill each other right now, both of your paths will cross again and only then would you two fight to the death. However, Taeyong is a sniper, snipers love their rooftops and doing their dirty work from afar, and better yet, they love doing it when there's no risk, you being at home is a risk, because who knows what kind of things you have hiding in your closet.

Taeyong would wait until the field, he'd wait until your somewhere with no risks, he'd wait for his kill. That's the sick fun people in your work have and crave for.

So, he let the doors close in on him, he let the elevator doors close and send him back up to his safe little rooftop as he continued on with his night. You however, would walk away, your figure disappearing as you made your way outside, no one suspecting a thing.

Honestly, that interaction left your mind the next day, not caring for when you would see Taeyong again. You just didn't think it'd come back and haunt you.

"Oh, yes. So, you do remember?" Donghyuck asked, a wicked smile plastered on his face as he began to circle around you like a vulture getting ready to eat its food. "Well, let me tell you a little story. When I was out today, walking around, eating lunch with Mark. I noticed a girl sitting in the corner watching us, or at least pretending to not watch us. At first I was confused you know, who was this stalker watching Mark and I, and it wasn't until I was about to leave that I realized, oh, it was my wife. Now, logically speaking I'm thinking, oh, she wants to see what I'm up to, maybe she recognized me while she was on her own lunch break, that's funny. But then, as soon as I leave, she leaves too and is trying to find me. Now, I'm nice and as I'm about to scare her with Mark, I hear her say something funny"

"Donghyuck" You interrupted him, wanting to explain as you felt your body tremble with anxiety and sadness.

He's really doing this, he's airing out the whole day and is ready to fight you. Why? Why did he want to fight you? Why couldn't he just let you explain, let you tell him your plan to run away? Why couldn't he just shut up for a minute?

"Something along the lines of Mako to Lyra, I lost him. Now, I think this is funny because I remember TY telling me a funny little story on how he had a run in with this women who stole his kill and info and that her name happened to be Mako. Now, imagine my surprise when I hear my wife call herself Mako!" Donghyuck came to a stop, standing right in front of you, staring you down as you felt weak. "Funny story, don't you think?"

"Donghyuck, just let me explain" You begged, your voice coming out in a whine as you just wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him.

Did he really think you'd kill him? Did he really think you didn't come up with a different possibility? Sure, your first instinct was to kill him until you thought of a different plant. But honestly? After being together for a couple years, you'd think your husband would hear you out, trust you.

And he did trust you. Oh my God, he trusted you so much, trusted you with every atom that made up his body. That's why he doesn't want to hear you out, doesn't want to hear the excuses you're going to make or the plan you thought of. Donghyuck felt betrayed, felt like his world collapsed when he heard you say those words to Lyra. Donghyuck felt like his world shifted, it shifted to the other side of the universe, a whole new world where you aren't his wife, but an enemy.

Donghyuck began to think, was all of this a ruse? A lie? Did you even love him? Did you want to marry him? Did you mean the vows and words you said to him? Every laugh, every word, every meeting and interaction, was it all fabricated so you could end his life? Those are the questions running through his mind. If you were sent to kill him, was it since the beginning? Was this your mission the whole time?

Did your company catch whiff of him so early on that they tasked you to kill him? Did you only get into this relationship to end his life?

"Wait, I'm not finished" He stopped you, his gaze growing cold, his warm eyes going dumb as he towed above you. His face so close to yours that you could see everything on his face. Every line you memorized, every mole you once kissed, every word you ever said to him, it was all coming to an end. "Now, in my head I'm thinking, no, no way my wife, my beautiful wife is Mako, and no way is she hunting me down to kill me"

"Donghyuck, please" Those were the only words that could come out of your mouth. Your world is slowly crumbling, falling down like one of your victims.

This wasn't normal, the way Haechan was looking at you wasn't normal, the way he was standing tall, standing like a man ready to throw a punch, this wasn't your husband standing in front of you, this was a killer. But so were you, you were a killer, still are, and you were sent to kill him, so do it, kill him.

"No, you're here to kill me, so do it" Even Haechan wanted you to do it. His steps getting closer to you as he stared you down, not breaking anything in his stature. His chest puffed, eyes dark, face hard and he was angry at you, furious. And yet, all you could see was Donghyuck, the man you'd laugh with at 3 in the morning because of something stupid.

It was all you could see, you can't kill him, because if you kill him, you'd kill yourself in the process. So, with teary eyes you shook your head at him.

"No, I can't" You said, your voice weak with emotion and distress. How could he ask you to kill him? And so easily?

He took another step towards you, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath hitting your face. His next words were grim, "Do it, or I will kill you"

The breath was knocked out of your chest, your lungs burning as your body went cold. Kill you, Haechan will kill you if you don't kill him. How can he say that? How can he stand there and say those words without second thought? But, aren't you a hypocrite for thinking this? Aren't you the one who decided to accept the mission anyways? Weren't you the one who followed him around all day for hours and hours on end just to end his life? You accepted it without second thought, so this was his revenge, his way one gaining control over a decision you decided to take.

"Donghyuck" You said, his name dying on your lips.

"You've made your choice. Kill me" He said, his finger messing with the trigger of the gun he's holding. You glance down at it, was he actually serious about this?

Tearing your eyes away from his gun, you looked back up at him. "Don't make—"

"Fine, then I'll kill you" Donghguck said, his gun lifting up, the tip touching your stomach. You felt your heart beat faster and faster, panic settling in as you look ed down at the gun touching you.

"Dong—"

"No!" He exclaimed, moving away from you as he turned around. You let out a breath of relief as his back was now to you, his gun to his head as he closed his eyes, thinking about what he was doing. He turned around to face you, his gun coming down as he flailed it around, his body running hot. "You do not get to back out of this, you chose your mission, now I'm choosing mine"

"Don't—" You snake your head, but he shook his head, his gun going up as he pointed it straight at you. "Please! Just let me explai—"

Donghyuck pulled the trigger, the bullet barely missing you as you flinched away. "Let me explain!" You yelled at him, your heart beating out of your chest. Donghyuck shook his head as he pulled the trigger again, making you run away from him, Donghyuck continuing to pull the trigger to hit you.

You ran behind a wall in between an alley way, hearing Donghyuck's foot steps come closer to you. "Shit" You mumbled, lifting up your skirt to grab your knives from their holster.

You gripped them tightly, your knuckles going white as you peaked your head from over the wall. You quickly found him walking closer to you, looking away, your brain had to think of a plan fast. Looking down, you found some rocks, instantly, you grabbed one and threw it to a different place away from your spot. The rock hit the ground, making some noise which caused Donghyuck to look away, which gave you an opening to move slowly around him, wanting to make him confused before you attack.

You stepped out of your heels, knowing this fight would be a hard one to get out of. Your feet stepping onto the cold concrete as you slowly and quietly came out of the alley way to confront him. You watched his face, his gun held up as he turned every corner to make sure you wouldn't come out and attack him.

It was a tango, a dance, the warmup before the show as you slowly approached him. Suddenly, as soon as you got closer to him, Haechan's back straightened up, his shoulders going lax as he turned around.

Your knives in your hand as his gun was in his. No words were exchanged, no remarks, nothing, just the both of you standing there, ready to give into this fight none of you wanted, but knew you had to have.

Donghyuck moved first, his gun going off as you dodged it, throwing one of your knives at him, missing your target by a mere inch. With one hand free as Donghyuck tried to regain his composure, you grabbed his gun by the barrel, moving it up as he shot a bullet in the air.

Using this momentum, you bring the gun to your side and tried to get it out of his grip, but he pulled his arm in which made you two he face to face. Haechan reeled his head back as it made contact with yours. You groaned in paid as it caused you to stumble back, Haechan quickly pointed his gun at your again, ready to shoot, but you bent down and extended your leg to sweep his own which caused him to fall to the ground, making him loosen his grip on his gun.

You ran to it, quickly kicking it away as far as possible when Haechan grabbed your leg and pulled it, making you fall on the floor ready for him to crawl on top of your to pin your hands above your head to grab your other knife and throw it far away as well.

Both of your now left without weapons, it was time for your hand to hand combat to pay off. With Donghyuck on top of you, he made it clear to punch you in the face as you tried to get out of his grip, wrapping your legs around his waist and using your full force to flip the both of you over, this was done fairly easily since this was a move you could do in your sleep.

Now with you on top of him, you began to punch him in the face repeatedly, but Haechan was quick to push you off of him, making you roll away on your back.

Looking back up at him, Haechan was now standing up, adjusting his suit coat as his feet began to kick at your stomach, making you groan in pain. After a few kicks, you gathered enough strength to pull your first back and punch him in the groin, making him double over in pain.

You got up from the floor with him following in suit. The two of you looked at one another, blood coming from his lips as your blood was coming from your eyebrow. Similar cuts on both of your cheeks as you caught your breaths. Haechan moved first, lunging at

you with a punch, which you caught with your hand as your knee moved up to knee him in the stomach.

He groaned as you repeated this action until he reeled back his fist to punch you in the stomach, making you push him off of you. You now lunged at him as you tried to kick him, but he dodged your kick, as he tried to punch you. He got his hit on your cheek, making you stumble back before you jumped up and twisted around in the air as you kicked him in his face, making him fumble to the ground.

You quickly got on top of him again, until he brought his arm up to the side of your neck, blocking you as he pushed you down in the ground for him to get up from the floor. You wrapped your legs around him to get some kind of control when he reached down with both hands to choke you. His strong hands making it hard for you to breathe as you clawed at his face.

The more you clawed, the more Haechan got annoyed with you, so he let go of your neck, putting the full force of his body on top of yours as your arms went around the back of his neck as he lifted you up in the air.

You gripped on as he to shake you off, and realizing that he couldn't, he rand to the closets brick wall he could find and slammed you against if, making your head smack against the wall and your back slamming with it. However, your arms didn't movie, but you felt the pain and exhaustion building up, so he pulled back and slammed you against the wall again, making you close your grip on him as he let you go, making you catch yourself with your feet on the ground.

Your hair as a mess, your dress ruined and exhausted filled your bones. Haechan on the other hand, tried his best to stand his ground as he lifted his fists up to protect himself, but you just looked at him. Trying to catch your breath when you pulled your hand back to punch him straight in his nose, making his head fall back and he felt his nose begin to bleed.

With not wasting a second, you jumped him and held on to his neck, your upper body practically hanging off his back as you elbowed his head and he punched your side. You began to fall down his body the more he punched you until he threw you down on the floor.

You groaned in pain, your body starting to feel the effects of it all when you looked ahead on the floor and spotted your knife. You quickly grabbed it, standing up to face him, only to see him pointing his gun at you.

You don't know when it started to rain, but the first trickles of water began to fall, hitting your hot skin as it began to soak you and him down to the bone. There he was, standing just a few feet away from you, your husband, your best friend, the person you wanted to share your life with.

There he is, holding a gun to you, ready to shoot, this wasn't happening, but it was. You felt your body reject you, your eyes filling with tears as your hand shook, your knife no longer feeling as steady as it once did.

You could see Haechan's resolve crack. His once hardened expression falling apart as he saw your tears. He didn't know why his tune changed, why he suddenly cared when all he felt was betrayal. But seeing you, covered in blood and cuts from the harsh punches he gave you and scratched from the concrete floor, he wondered, why couldn't he just let you talk. Let you explain and all of this fighting could have been avoided.

Your jaw clenched as Haechan lowered his gun, his body going tense as his face cracked even more. "I can't do this" He said, his mind and body betraying his training.

"No!" You exclaimed, your knife shaking even more. How can he back out now? After begging you to kill him only to say he was now going to kill you. He should kill you, pull the trigger and put you out of your misery of taking this stupid mission in the first place. "Come on!" You yelled at him, your voice weak and gritted through your teeth. But Donghyuck didn't move an inch he didn't raise his gun back up to you, it was now at his side. "Kill me! Come on!"

"I'm so sorry" Donghyuck mumbled to you, but also to himself, his Haechan persona. "Baby"

"No!" You yelled through your tears, running toward him with all your might, but it was futile. His hand instantly went up to grab your wrist that was holding the knife, holding it hard enough that it loosened your grip and it fell out of your hands, falling onto the ground with a clank.

"Please, just kill me" You begged through your tears, but all Donghyuck did was bring your body to his, his arms wrapping around you with such a gentle touch that it contrasted the way his arms felt wrapped around you during the fight.

"I'm so sorry baby" He mumbled into your damn hair, his hand cradling the back of your head as his other arm was wrapped around your waist, securing you to his body.

You sobbed in his arms, your own wrapping around him as he felt your body tremble and shake. He was trying to stay strong for you, but he too felt his heart crack as the realization hit him. He tried to kill you, so easily, like it was nothing.

"I'm so sorry" He apologized again.

It was all he could say, the rain was drowning his words out, soaking both of you until you ran cold, but for some reason, the hug was warm and you could hear his voice loud and clear.

You both didn't know how you would get out of this predicament. After all you failed a mission, Haechan couldn't go back to his company and go on missions like normal because your company would find out that you didn't kill him and you couldn't go back to work without Mantis killing you after failing your mission.

You both didn't know what to do, that would be a plan for another day. So now, all you both could do was hug each other, cling on to one another like you were both a life line to each other's lives in this pouring rain. The both of you were still alive, injuries to be tended to later, but all you wanted, all you craved was Donghyuck.

So you stayed in his arms and pretended that you had a life tomorrow, had him tomorrow, because you honestly don't know if you will have all of him when sunrise hits.

"I love you" You mumbled into his neck as your sobs and cries subsided. His scent filling your nose and you held him tight like it was your last time saying those words.

"I love you too" Donghyuck said, his own words echoing the uncertainty the both of you had when it came to tomorrow. So, all you had was this, this simple moment wrapped in each other's arms as blood slipped from his nose and cuts and bruised form on your bodies.

However, a simple moment is all anyone can have, a simple moment that can turn sour. All you heard was a ringing, a ringing in your ear as your world began to blur together. Donghyuck's grip on you tightened as yours loosens up, your arms slowly falling from his waist to your side. Your mind was fuzzy, your senses going blind to everything around you.

"Hyuck, something's wrong" You mumbled out, feeling your lungs running out of breath as your knees gave out and you fell to the ground, Donghyuck holding you steady as he fell with you.

He cradled you in his arms as tears began flowing down his face. "You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be okay baby" He mumbled out through his tears, your breath going unsteady as you looked down at your stomach.

"Oh" It's all you could say, all you could come up with as your brain processed the fact that you're bleeding, you're bleeding from your stomach and that ringing in your ear was the sound of a bullet going off. "Who"

"I don't know, but you're gonna be fine, you're gonna be okay" Donghyuck said, his hands gently resting you down as he pressed down on your wound.

The blood seeped through his fingers, he was trying to stop your bleeding, but it wasn't working, he wasn't helping. "Help! Someone help!" Donghyuck yelled into the wet dark night.

His voice cracking as he screamed for anyone to help him, for anyone to call an ambulance. "Please! Help!" He kept screaming and it was hurting your ears.

"Hyuck, stop yelling" You mumbled out, your words coming out in short breaths and cut up words. "Please"

"You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be okay" Those were the only words he could come up with only words he could tell you.

What else could he tell you? What else could he do? He couldn't call anyone because if he did that would require him to take his hands off you, making you bleed out, but even if he didn't call, you would still bleed out. Donghyuck was crying tears and tears for you, your eyes slowly closing.

"No, don't close your eyes, keep them on me, keep them open baby" He begged, he begged and pleaded. You couldn't keep them open anymore, they were heavy, just so heavy and you were tired, you wanted to sleep.

"Five more minutes" Those words, those three words that fell from your lips brought him back to this morning. He looked down at you and gave you a weak smile as you smiled back up at him. "Please, just five more minutes"

"Okay, okay baby, just five minutes" Donghyuck cried, his words being soft as he swallowed the hard lump in his throat. "I'll wake you up" He mumbled out, his bloody hand leaving your bleeding stomach as he gently stroked your hair.

"I wanted...." Your voice trailed off, Donghyuck shushing you and telling you to not speak. "I wanted to run away...run away with you" You revealed, your throat feeling a bit clogged up as you felt something coming up your throat. "I didn't...didn't wanna kill you, wanted to run away"

Donghyuck felt his heart shatter, shatter into dust as he heard you. "Oh, baby, we'll run away together, we'll go to Denmark, you always talked about Denmark" He revealed, you smiled at this and he went on. "We'll get we a little house, retire, have a kid or two"

"A girl" You whispered, your eyes blinking slowly and staying closed for longer periods of time. Donghyuck knew your time was running out, knew he wasn't going to have this life with you.

Donghyuck chuckled, of course you both wanted a girl, maybe two girls, but girls were always on the list. Donghyuck wanted a little girl so badly, but the time never arises. You were busy with work and so was he, you both knew you didn't have time for a baby, but that didn't mean you both didn't dream about it or talk about it. You had a list filled with baby names, a Pinterest board of the kind of clothes you'll both buy her, how Donghyuck would keep you up, his head on your chest as he talked about how he'd react when his baby girl would come home with a boyfriend or a girlfriend, he didn't care who she loved as long as she experienced a love like the one you both shared.

"We'll have a girl yeah, of course we'll have a little girl, we'll name her Hayoon, yeah, Hayoon" Donghyuck said, saying a name you both really liked.

The name was a whisper in the world, a whisper you both talked about when creating a list. Donghyuck's obsession with sun and sunshine, how he said you were his sun or how he said he was your sun. Something about sun and something about the idea of sunlight made you and Donghyuck think about so many times.

"Sunlight" You mumbled out, noticing how through the clouds you could see sunlight. The gray clouds and the stormy sky didn't matter anymore since you could see the sun peaking through.

"Yeah, she'll have your smile, your eyes" Donghyuck rambled on, thinking about what your baby could've looked like, been like, acted like. Would she have your laugh or his? Have your eyes or his? Who would she be a copy of? Which parent would she like more? Donghyuck said she would be a daddy's girl, and that he'd do anything she'd ask. You laughed and always said that your daughter would have him wrapped around her little finger. Oh, the life you two could've had, would've had if he just shut up and let you explain. But no, now you're here laying in a pool of your blood as it came out of your stomach and mouth. You were closed and Donghyuck felt your body leave a last breath and your body is now lifeless. "Baby? Baby?" Donghyuck called your name, his eyes scanning your lifeless body and he let out one last sob and cry. One last emotion from his shattered and dusted heart. "I love you so much" He cried out, leaning down to leave one last kiss to your forehead, his lips quivering as his tears mixed with the rain falling down.

Donghyuck let out his screams, his sobs, his whole heart poured out of him like the rain pouring itself on his body and yours. All the memories, all your smiles and laughs, all our times together of late night laughs, the soft sex and the way you two made love to one another was gone now. Everything was gone, he wouldn't see your face anymore, wouldn't wake up to you staring at him anymore and wouldn't be able to touch you anymore. You were gone, you are someone who would slowly fade away from existence.

"Haechan" His name came out from the harsh rain and his tears.

Donghyuck looked up from your body to see the familiar head of hair and strong face that was Taeyong. "What are you..." He was so confused why would he be here? He should have been away, why was he here? Wait, the bullet came out of no where, probably from a few feet away, maybe up in a building and Taeyong as here. Donghyuck's brows were furrowed with anger as he glared at Taeyong who held no remorse for what he did. "You did this? You did this!"

Taeyong shook his head, knowing that Donghyuck would be furious a him, but it was the only way. "It had to be done, she was going to kill you"

"Why would you do this?!" Donghyuck yelled into the air, Taeyong not flinching as he glanced at your body, he was so apathetic about the whole thing, he just killed his co workers wife in cold blood like it was another work day.

"I did what had to be done!" Taeyong exclaimed, his anger getting the best of him. Taeyong closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. "I did what had to be done" He said once more, his voice calmed like his whole persona changed.

Donghyuck shook his head, his tears still falling from his eyes as he looked up at the man who he thought was his friend at least. "No, you didn't, no, you ruined her plans! You ruined us! You killed my wife!"

"She was going to kill you!" Taeyong yelled over Donghyuck's voice, his shoulders going tense as he looked at Donghyuck who was covered in your blood. Looking back at your lifeless body, all Taeyong could see was Mako, the girl who was their rival, the women who stole his kill a year ago, the women who was going to kill his co worker. "She was a Widow, she was Mako, the girl who stole all our kills, our money!"Taeyong yelled, looking back at Donghyuck who just sat there, his jaw open as his brain still clouding wrap around the idea that Taeyong killed his wife.

"I don't care who she was! I care that you killed my whole world!" Donghyuck yelled again, this whole conversation turning in of a screaming match in the rain.

Taeyong clenched his jaw, his body slightly leaning back in his stance, mostly in disbelief that Donghyuck didn't understand that you were going to kill him with no mercy. He didn't care that you had a plan, a second option, the first was to kill him and Taeyong didn't want that to happen, he couldn't let that happen.

"And she was going to kill her own. You" Taeyong pointed out, you were going to kill your world way before Taeyong would kill Donghyuck's.

Donghyuck's brain was spiraling, his thoughts funneling into one. His eyes glancing around, he found his stray gun just a mere free feet away from him. Donghyuck reached for it and pointed it at Taeyong who held his hands up calmly.

"Put the gun down" Taeyong said in a stern voice, calm and collected like he always as. The only emotion he ever showed as anger, and right now, he was so calm, so easy going and so annoying to Donghyuck.

"You killed her you killed her and you didn't even think...didn't even think about what that was gonna do to me" Donghyuck said, his voice getting breath as his mind as screaming at hm to pull the trigger. Taeyong did this, Taeyong did all of this and had no remorse no mercy and no sympathy for hm.

"Haechan, put the gun down" Taeyong orders again, but Donghyuck kept his up, pointing at his body as he clenched his jaw.

Donghyuck's tears dried up, the blood on his hand slowly getting washed away by the pouring rain that hadn't let up. Donghyuck didn't want to debate anymore, didn't talk anymore. He didn't abt to do anything anymore. All he wanted to do was go home, get in bed and sleep, wanted to smell your side of the bed, wanted to pretend that you had a late night at the office, pretend that you would come home any minute now. He'd fall asleep, wake up to feeing someone dare at him, only to open his eyes and see your face, your soft skinned face and watch how you closed your eyes since you got caught. And then, he would stare at you, stare at your nose, your eyelashes, your lips, how they were this perfect color that became his favorite. He'd watch how the sun wild seep through the curtains to wash over you in this beautiful warmth.

That's all he wanted, to see you in that state, that relaxed state that only he could see. He just wanted you back, hadn't even been an hour since he felt your soul leave your body and he already wanted you back in his arms, laughing without a care in the world.

"You killed her" He mumbled, his eyes going down to your body. You looked so peaceful, so relaxed with your eyes closed. You looked just like you did this morning, beautiful. "You killed her" He repeated.

Donghyuck's eyes tore away from your peaceful body to look back up at Taeyong who continued to stand there.

"So now you're gonna kill me?" Taeyong asked.

Was he? Was Donghyuck going to kill Taeyong? The guy who waited until he was in the field to do what he wanted to do for a year. Taeyong waited a year a fucking year until he saw you again. He just didn't think you were Haechan's wife, he didn't think you two had any ties until right now. However, he didn't feel bad, because at the end of the day, he got his revenge. Call him petty and all anyone wants, but Taeyong had a grudge against you and he promised himself he'd kill you one day and today was that day.

Did you want Donghyuck to kill Taeyong though? Yo avenge your death? Did you want that? Did Donghyuck even want that? He was the one holding the gun and he can't figure out if he wanted to kill Taeyong. Because deep down he did, he wanted to pull the trigger, but then his own wife would be in the same predicament like he was. Her husband dead and seeking revenge for the person who killed him and then it would be Taeyongs wife who'd be holding gun pointed at Donghyuck who held his hands up.

So, yeah, Donghyuck anted to kill him so badly, wanted to pull the trigger so many times until the gun ran out of bullets. But, would he feel satisfied? It wouldn't bring you back, you wouldn't come back from the dead, you'd still be in the other side and Donghyuck would still be here.

"I want to" Donghyuck admitted. "I want to shoot you so many times, but it won't bring her back" He mumbled out, throwing the gun away to his side.

"I'll call Mark to get clean up crew" Taeyong suggested, but Haechan quickly declined his suggestion.

"No, just get out of here before I regret not killing you" He said, his eyes in slits like a snake ready to attack.

"Hae—"

"Go!" Haechan yelled at him. Taeyong hesitated before turning around and leaving. Donghyuck looked back down at your body and pulled out his phone. Donghyuck’s phone began ringing as he waited for the other side to answer. "I need an ambulance, my wife's dead"

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dark-lord-of-awesomeness · 3 days ago

Note

Could we get some more Dragon!Ford POV sometime? 🥺 I love how you write him and it's so intriguing to get to know what's going on in his head.

Sure! I love dragon Ford and his ability to logic away his insane behavior. Here's his POV from chapter 2!

Ford grumbled as he followed Fiddleford through the castle hallways, eyes locked onto his Stan's wriggling form. He didn't look happy to be tucked under his friends arm, which was understandable. Fiddleford had very uncomfortable metal limbs, nothing like Fords own warm, very strong and protective, scaly claws. Really, he should be the one carrying his Stan around, much more comfortable and safe.

He'd let it go for now. Fiddleford was his friend after all, (and his servant) and therefore could be trusted to take care of his Stan. Plus Ford was still annoyed by his Stan's insistence that he wasnt himself, like six fingers were a normal dragon had.

Eventually they made it to the dining room, and Fiddleford set his Stan down on the chair at the head of the table, what used to be Ford's spot. His brother wasted no time in trying to jump up and run off, and he watched in amusement as Fiddleford grabbed him immediately and put him right back.

“Please don’t make this difficult Stanley,” he said, holding Stan’s shoulders down “Just. Sit tight here, and I’ll explain what’s going on.”

“Fine,” his Stan growled, as Ford came over to stand over him, “but it better be good! I lost my horse to this thing!”

You didn't lose to me, Ford growled back, it ran off. His Stan hunched down in his chair, arms crossed and glaring at Fiddleford.

“Alright, where to begin,” Fiddleford said, as he sat down on the chair to his Stan's left and set his arms down on the table, “Well to start, how much do you know about your brother’s research?”

“Absolutely nothing. Haven’t seen him in a decade.”

I'm sorry my Stanley, Ford crooned, setting his head down on one of his claws so he could gaze at his brother better, I promise, I'll take better care of you this time.

His Stan leaned away from him, resting his arm on the arm of the chair. Poor thing, all alone out there all by himself. Ford would do much better from now on, make sure no one tried to come and snatch him.

Fiddleford sighed, “ That's. Not great. See, Stanford was looking into the source of all magic, and it led him here. I won’t get too into the details, but the past year he’d been looking into breaking curses. He thought there was something here blocking the flow. And there was. And he set it free, leading to,”

Fiddleford waved his hand at Ford, and he huffed. It wasn't his fault Bill turned him into a dragon, he hadn't even known that was a thing Bill could do until it was already done. And Ford had been on the right track, before Bill got too sure of himself and showed his true colors.

“But before he went all scaly, he went into a… fit of paranoia,”

Do you really need to phrase it like that to my Stanley? Ford growled, even as Fiddleford glared back at him.

“Don’t get huffy! There’s no other way to say it!”

You could say I was being threatened! Ford growled, then he looked over at his Stan, willing his brother to understand his feelings. His Stan just glared at him, making those feelings even sadder. His Stan shouldn't be glaring at him while Fiddleford made exaggerated claims about what he was doing.

“Anyhow, the point is he sealed all his research into curse breaking and magic, along with his labs. No one but him can access it, and it’s not recognizing him like this. We’ve been a bit stuck to be honest.”

“That’s where you come in!” Fiddleford smiled at his brother, a large grin that his Stan seemed to flinch away from. Ford glared at his friend, then tried to move his head closer to comfort his Stan.

“OK, say I believe you,” his Stan said, leaning further away , “How am I supposed to get you through Fords magic mumbo jumbo. I don’t know anything about enchantments and crap.”

Well that was a blatent lie if Ford ever heard one. His Stan might not have grasped the more complex aspect of magic, but Ford had blabbered enough as children that his brother should have a rough understanding about how it worked.

“You don’t need to know anything!” Fiddleford said, excited, “See your blood-”

Ford blinked as his brother moved, vaulting over the side of the chair, scrambling over his claw (and his Stan was touching him! Willingly! A part of him rumbled in delight at the tiny points of pressure from his Stan moving across him) then started sprinting back towards the door. Ford watched him for a moment, delighted at seeing his brother look so alive, then used his tail to sweep across the room and gently drag his brother back to him.

Fiddleford had taken the time to stand up and walk over, grabbing his Stan by the back of his cloak and set him back in the chair. His Stan took a few deep breaths (and really, he must be terribly out of shape if sprinting such a short distance winded him) then tried to slide out under the table. Fiddleford, who hadn't moved, grabbed him again, lifting him into the air while his Stan flailed.

His Stan had always been slippery and hard to catch.

“You can’t have my blood!” he yelled, kicking at its chest and trying to push away, “I will not be a part of any more blood rituals!”

More? Ford perked up at that, eyes narrowing as he thought about what blood rituals his brother might have been involved in, before the conversation continued and he was distraced by his Stan kicking Fiddleford in the face.

“Blood rituals? What? No, I just-” Fiddleford frowned, then held his Stan further away so his legs couldn't reach. “There’s no blood rituals happening here. If I set you down, will you listen to the rest of what I’m trying to say? I don’t want to have to tie you to the chair.”

“Sure,” his Stan growled, glaring. Ford recognized the look, one he'd seen many times over the years as his brother lied and schemed to get out of trouble and do what he pleased.

His Stan was always so free, not tied down by the expectations of others. Normally Ford loved that about him, but right now he needed his Stan to at least pretend to listen to Fiddleford so that he could sneak him back to his room later.

He's going to try and run again, Ford grumbled, watching his Stan's eyes as they narrowed and scanned the room.

“I’m sure it’s fine Stanford, he just said-”

Fiddleford barely had the chance to let go before his Stan was gone, sprinting past him away from Ford. That wouldnt do, of course, his Stan should never be too far away.

Ford chuckled as Fiddleford tied his Stan to the chair. It took several attempts, and seeing the expression on Fiddlefords face everytime his Stan managed to wriggle out was priceless. His Stan had always been hard to pin down, even for Ford.

Eventually his friend managed to do it, tying both of his Stan's arms down and wrapping it around his chest so all he could do was kick his legs. He'd allow it for now, while his Stan was still adjusting to his new home, but once he'd gotten settled Ford would have some words with Fiddleford if he tried it again.

His Stan wriggled some more, then brought up his legs and kicked at the table, pushing the chair back into Ford's neck.

“Ha! Take-Ugh!”

So small you are, Ford crooned, as his Stan yelled and tried to pull away from Fords lick. His Stan was so dirty, and would need a proper bath at some point so that everyone could appreciate him better. Ford licked him again, trying to get his hair to curl nicely, then chuckled as his brother squirmed.

“Are you two done?” Fiddleford asked, sounding tired. His Stan scowled, then flinched as Ford licked him one more time.

For now, Ford clicked, but he'll need to wash up later, when we're done here. He settled his head back onto one of his claws, then went back to admiring his Stan's grumpy expression.

“As I was saying, your blood should be near identical, being twins, so hopefully it should unlock everything. All ya’ gotta do is put your hands on few things. No blood rituals.”

“Uhuh, just touch some stuff, and then I can leave?” Stan said, eyeing Ford. Ford smiled, watching his brother as he tried to free one of his arms from the chair. Fiddleford sighed, shifting loudly before resting his arms on the table and twisting his hands together.

“I’d love to send you on your way, despite your,” he grimaced, “delightful company. But Stanford’s not gonna let that happen, at least not while he’s like this. You should be free to go once we fix him.”

He's not going anywhere! Ford clicked, trying to shove his face into his Stan but only managing to bump the chair. It wobbled for a moment, before Fiddleford reached out and steadied it. Ford glared at the man, offended he'd think Ford would let his Stan fall over.

"Yes, he is Stanford,” Fiddleford said, “you can’t keep him here forever, and you won’t want to when you’re yourself again.”

Yes he would. Ford would keep his Stan with him forever and ever. He was His Stan after all, they were twins! There was nowhere his Stan was supposed to be than safely tucked into their home, where no one could come and snatch him. Being human shaped again wasn't going to change that.

“In the meantime,” Fiddleford continued, giving him a mean look, “we’ll set you up with some rooms and find something to feed you. We haven’t had, ah, human company in a while, so I’m not too sure what’s in the kitchen.”

“Wait,” Stan said, eyeing the Fiddleford even as his arms continued to try and wiggle free, “what about the knights, don’t you feed them anything?”

“They don’t need to eat,”

He doesn't need a room, Ford clicked, reaching forwards with his front claw he wasn't laying his head on and using it to drag his Stan closer, he's staying with me. There's more than enough room in the treasury for the both of us.

His Stan yelled, probably from surprise, then kicked his legs as Ford rested his chair against him.

“No, he’s getting a room,” Fiddleford shot back, sounding annoyed, “He’s a person, he can’t live like that. There’s nowhere for him to sleep in there either. And look at him, you’re freaking him out,”

“Hey! I’m not-”

Ford rolled his eyes, then turned to look at Stan fully. His Stan wasn't scared of him! They were brothers! There was nowhere safer for his Stan than right here next to him.

His confidence wavered as his Stan froze. His brother was staring at him with wide eyes, face pale and shoulders starting to hunch the longer they made eye contact.

Ah. He was afraid. Afraid of Ford.

It hurt a part of him he hadn't realized was capable of hurting. His Stan should never be scared of him, of Ford. Ford was his big brother, the one looking after him now that he was so small and fragile. Anyone who realized how magnificent his Stan was would jump at the chance to take him away, and it was Ford's job to stop that from happening.

But Stan didnt belived Fiddleford that he was himself, only saw a giant dragon who'd snatched him for a horrible reason and not the great reason Ford had. Ford wilted as his brother kept watching him, too scared to move. He crooned sadly, then looked away. Then he wilted more as he heard his Stan let out a sigh of relief.

He gently pushed the chair back, giving his Stan some space, then set his head back down on his claw. His Stan scowled back at him, and Ford knew he'd be crying if he could.

“I know you don’t like it, but it is what it is,” Fiddleford said, patting his snout.

I suppose, he chirped, watching his Stan sadly. Fiddleford kept talking, but Ford tuned him out, thinking. If his Stan was so scared, then he'd have to work on showing his Stan how trustworthy and safe he was. Show his Stan how Ford understood how special he was, and that there was no where he should be then right here with him. They had a truly grand home after all, with plenty of roaming space, a very impressive hoard, and several servants companions for his Stan to talk to and get socialization from, so he wouldn't get lonely.

What other dragons had this kind of set up? None of them. Because they were dead.

Eventually Fiddleford untied his Stan, and Ford followed them as his friend led them through the halls towards one of the upper rooms. His Stan asked several questions, eyed a lot of the different halls, and hummed noncommittally at all of Fiddlefords responses.

Ford had no doubt his brother would be out of the castle before morning.

When they finally got to his Stan's 'room' (and inwardly Ford scoffed. His Stan's room was in the hoard with the rest of Ford's treasures) Ford leaned down and inspected it as best he could. While all of the rooms meant for heavy traffic had been designed with dragons coming in and out in mind, most of the personal rooms had not. More than half of the castle had become inaccesbable to Ford after he turned into a dragon, and it irked him that Fiddleford would put his Stan in one of them.

Not that the larger bedrooms would have Stan sized furniture, but at least then Ford could come in and make himself comfortable.

He watched his Stan inspect the bedroom, then eyed the large window across from him. His Stan was scared of heights, but he was also the sneakiest and most cunning of all Stans. It was possible all the questions had been a diversion, and he'd show off how brave and wonderous he was by climbing out the window while Fiddleford was making dinner.

Part of him wanted to warn Fiddleford, make sure his Stan stayed nice and warm inside.

A larger part grinned at the thought of scooping his Stan up again, then sneaking him back into his room. There was a chance his Stan wouldn't get out after all, and while the thought of finding his Stan outside while it was starting to get cold out made him want to snarl, the thought of having his Stan all to himself in the treasury made a larger part of him grumble in pleasure.

When Fiddleford came back out to shoo him off to dinner, Ford only grumbled a little before making his way back to the treasury. He told one of the knights to bring him all the blankets and pillows from one of the unused halls, then quickly scanned his treasure for a Stan sized chest. It needed to be large enough for his Stan to spread out in, but still small enough Ford could curl around it while they slept.

He eyed a few of them, before finding one that seemed a good fit. Dumping all the gold out, he lifted it into the air and eyed the inside, scanning for splintered wood or rusted hinges. Finding nothing, he set it down on a pile of coins and stuffed it full of pillows and blankets until it was near bursting.

There. Much better than that other chest. That other chest was an embarrassment really, not nearly soft enough to hold his Stan like this one.

He nodded, then spread his wings and took of, careful not to knock over his new Stan chest as he made his way out through the back entrance. It was a series of caves Bill had repurposed to let his hoard of dragons fly in and out of the castle so they could drop all the gold they'd stolen directly into the treasury. There was only one exit, and all the branching pathways were booby trapped. It came out near the back of the castle, in the form of a vertical shaft Ford climbed out of that was surrounded by pitch black walls and had a single large balcony Bill used to stand on and watch all the dragons fly in and out of, as well as toss people into.

A grim history, but also the only way for Ford to easily get in and out of the castle, since the front doors were no longer usable. He'd sort of accidentally broke them from throwing Bill out so many times, and Fiddleford had to strain to push them open even a crack.

Ford climbed out onto the roof, shook himself, then spread his wings. He launched himself off and spread his wings, breathing in the cold air as his inner fire roared. The storm would be here, probably sometime in the next three or four hours. He'd have to fly to the closest farm, eat a cow or two (or three) then get back before it hit, scanning the road in case his Stan did manage to sneak out.

(And if he knew his Stan, he would. His Stan was so sneaky like that)

Aaaaand thats chapter 2!! Dragon Ford continues to be delusional and possessive! Plus an explination on how Ford gets in and out without using the front doors. There's just a big hole that leads down and then bends into the treasury. Intruders that tried to sneak in through it had to climb the castle walls, sneak past all the dragons and Bill, avoid all the false side paths, then huzzah! The treasure! That wouldnt leave the castle and was also littered with cursed items! Giving Bill even more monsters to command or people to laugh at as misfortune struck.

It occurs to me that i should probably put this on ao3 for those non tumblrs. Hmm. Look out for extended chapter 1 and this coming soon.

#gravity falls #gravity falls au #stan pines #ford pines #princess stan #dragon ford #fiddleford mcgucket

54 notes · View notes

zepskies · 2 days ago

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Omg you're spoiling me, friend!! 😍 (and hi, bby! 👋🏽 I hope you're feeling better, but not climbing momma's shelves 🩵😂)

You already know this one's a jam-packed finale, so I'm very much looking forward to seeing what you thought! 🥰

Love that you picked this up just a couple of hours later! It's like you're giving us a deleted scene as a bonus with extra insights and we finally get to see what happened and what they talked about 🫶

Aw yes, exactly what I was going for! I wanted to fill in those gaps for you guys. It was fun to leave some things to the imagination, but it's also fun for me to go a bit deeper, not only with our main Dean x reader, but giving our side characters closure as well ❤️

I love that she said this! Shows how much maturity they both have gone through since being those kids that accidentally got pregnant 👌 I absolutely love that they had this conversation and were so honest, even with topics that aren't particularly fun for anyone, but they pushed through and grew together here as well 💕

I'm so glad you think so! lol These two had a lot to learn. With communication (or lack thereof) being their biggest problem, I thought it was important for them to have this conversation and finally get it right before they move forward together.

Yup, exactly what I always thought. Makes total sense for him, too. (And that he interpret what Sam said completely wrong – he didn't mean pick anyone and settle, ya idjit 😆🙈)

ahahaha I'm so glad you pointed that out on Part 1 the first time because Dean really did misinterpret that advice! 😅 Some people struggled to understand Dean's actions in this story, which is honestly fair, because I wanted people to make people think on this one. But I thought this part of the convo would clear that up too lol 😅

And honestly that's totally fair. I already told you my thoughts on Benny. Still think he should've asked Dean first. It's not entirely Dean's fault that Benny got hurt 🤷‍♀️

I love you for working this in!!!!

Girl yes, and I'm so grateful for your comments on Part 2 about Benny. You voiced everything I was thinking inherently when I was writing this messy dynamic lol. I really should've included a credit to you on this epilogue though, because as you can see, a lot of our convo about that ended up here 💕

Of course, babe, of course 😂💚

🤣 Dean had to clarify on that one lmaoo

Love that he doesn't ask about Lisa at all lmao

ahaha you're the first one to point that out! I felt like Robbie wouldn't have formed as much of an attachment to her as he did Benny (and as you rightly pointed out, he's allegiance lies with mom 😂❤️).

I mean, yeah... Wasn't shocked by this statement at all. You already have a kid together and six years worth of drama. You better lock that shit down now lol

Right?? lmao they've suffered enough. He better put a ring on it, expeditiously. 😆

Yes, we talked about this! 😆 Poor guy had it bad from the start and then *enter Dean* lol Throughout that whole conversation I was nodding along and going, "Yup, yup, yup" 😂

Big YEP. lol Poor Benny. He just had bad luck that Dean put his mark on her first 😅

Ooof, but totally understandable, tho. Would've only been awkward as hell for both of them probably. Some things you really can't come back from ❤️‍🩹

Echhh yeah. Some people commented on Part 2 of like, "maybe they can be friends again someday?" And I'm like. 😬😬 I'm not sure if this situation would allow for that honestly. ❤️‍🩹 Benny was gracious with the reader because he loved her, and even Dean to an extent, with how he transferred out of the firehouse, but that was more because Benny couldn't work with him anymore after what happened. Not because he "hates" Dean, but because it's just too difficult. 💔

Awww, and Benny found his true love as well 😍 I love that you gave him his own ending as well. It's not something that's done a lot for "disposable" side characters, but I'm glad we get to see him find someone too and not disappear off into the background.

Aw I love you for that comment! I really enjoyed writing Benny's side of things, giving him more closure but also allowing him to speak his piece. One of the best writing tips I ever got was treat your side characters like the protagonists of their own stories, so I try to do that as much as I can ❤️

Love that we get an explanation for Lisa's side as well! Totally makes sense for her too. And choosing Eileen as the medium to deliver this message was so clever!!

Oh thank you! While I felt like Lisa and Dean said all that needed to be said to each other "on camera," if you will, I thought this would be a fun way to give Lisa's arc some explanation and closure, and finish Benny off too with his elopement news! lol

He is such a fucking menace istg!!! 🤣

lmfaoooo He's too fucking much sometimes, but we love him for it, right? 😝

This is so fucking cute! Love this for them!!! 😍🥹💕

Aww writing this scene made me so happy. I'm glad you enjoyed it too!! 🥰💓 Just loved the image of their little makeshift hot tub with champagne and chocolate, reaffirming that they're going to move forward together as a family, but as best friends at the center. 💓

N'awwww stop it!!! One day after Dean's birthday, too. They're forever gonna be bonded and she'll always be his baby girl and she'll go running around school telling everyon how great her daddy is 😭🥹 And I'm sure Robbie is a total momma's boy deep down (also because they had a lot of bonding time alone). I love this little family. I'm so happy they figured it all out and get to be together 🥰

Best birthday present ever for Dean! lol Omg yesss I just fell in love with this image. 🥹 There's a reason I typically write Dean as a girl!dad and I can soooo see him like that with his daughter. And that's such a good point about Robbie lol. He became attached to Dean in a way of like, he didn't get to see him as much as he wanted to, but of course he's spent the most time with his mom. 💞💞 After all the drama and angst and messiness, they finally figured it all out!

Thank God. Bless them 😂🫶

He's righting wrongs left and right 🤣🤣

Oh, come on!!! Why???? I LOVE Stevie Nicks! I'm with Dean here lmao

Hahahaa you know what, Dean got his way once. He'll probably wear her down on "Stephanie/Stevie" too 😘

Aww, Alex, this was such a great ending for this little family! You tied it all up nicely and even gave Benny and Lisa a happy end (and people they deserved). Well done, friend! This was no easy job. Truly!! 💜👏

Thank you so much, Wayne!! 🥹 I always appreciate you, you know that. But especially on this one tbh (and Breaking Point lol). There were moments where I kind of second guessed myself on certain creative choices for If I Stay, but you saw where I was going with the Benny storyline and Dean's messy character growth! 😆❤️

PS: I'm slowly working my way through the tbr and haven't forgotten about the others (or your comments on my fics lol). Just wanted to give you my comments on the ones I haven't read yet first 🥰 Hope you're still enjoying your break, friend! You really have been so incredbily busy, so don't overwork yourself 💜😘

Aw you're amazing, friend!! I look forward to seeing what you think of those. 💕💕 (But also please don't stress yourself about it. I'd hate for the reading/feedback to start feeling like "work" lol, especially because you haven't been feeling well either)

Oh hun I'm always working, even when I'm on "break." 🤣💜💜 Work and health issues and life stuff is kicking my ass right now, but I feel like I'll be able to breathe after I move in early June for a new job!~

IF I STAY - Epilogue

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

Summary: Your dream is to work with kids as an elementary school teacher. Dean is well on his way to becoming a firefighter, keeping things light and “strings unattached” as he goes. After a one-night stand you never saw coming, you and Dean are forced to deal with the consequences…and figure out if the connection between you is worth fighting for.

AN: By popular demand, I wanted to come back to these two for a hot minute, clear up some loose ends, and answer some questions Part 2 might have left behind for you. 😘

Song Inspo: “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” and “It’s Now or Never” by Elvis

Word Count: 6.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Major fluff, some spice, angst, hurt/comfort, family feels

❤️‍🔥 If I Stay Masterlist

Epilogue: Soul Surrender

The low familiarity of Arrested Development playing on the TV is the only sound filling your bedroom…other than your giggles. They come out in short bursts even though your body doesn’t stop shaking, twisting away from nimble fingers.

“Dean,” you plead. Your cheeks hurt from laughing but no matter how you try to escape, he follows you. His broad frame and strong arms curl around your waist from behind. His face buries into your neck, and you feel the shape of his smirk there while his fingers slip higher under your shirt and map a constellation across your ribs.

Well, it’s actually his shirt, the white buttoned-down hanging loosely from your frame. It barely covers your ass, and he likes it that way. All the better to tease you with a playful smack of a nice round cheek when the fabric rides up.

Your squeal morphs into more peals of laughter. Involuntary tears well up in your eyes, and one slides down into the pillow underneath your cheek.

“Baby, please—can’t fucking breathe,” you manage to say, panting and wheezing all squeaky-voice.

Finally, his long fingers fall still against your skin. His head perks up, and his smirk softens into a grin.

“Baby?” Dean repeats, quirking a brow at you.

You pause. While you catch your breath, your gaze lowers in an uncertain shade. You shift onto your back, where Dean is only better able to loom above you. Staring up at his handsome face like this still feels a little unreal. Just a couple of hours ago, you were a crying mess in this very bed.

Then there was a knock on your door. When you found Dean standing there looking stressed and desperate, you just couldn’t turn him away; nor could you deny what your heart had been trying to tell you for far too long.

“Uh, sorry, it just came out,” you say with a chuckle.

Before you can ask if it’s too soon for cute pet names, Dean leans down to capture you in a kiss. It’s slow and thorough, sparking a tendril of heat down your spine as his hand slides along your neck, framing your jaw. He thumbs at your chin after he pulls away.

“I like it,” he says. His eyes hold a cheeky gleam.

Your smile gradually reaches beaming proportions. He moves his hand down to your waist, and you squirm a little. You’re still sensitive from how much he teased you before. You grab his hand and bring it back up to your cheek instead.

“You’re more ticklish than Robbie,” Dean remarks. His smirk is back.

“He probably gets it from me,” you confess. Though your hands do some wandering of their own, slipping under the man’s arms and prodding a tuneless sonata along his sides. “But I’m thinking you’re just as bad, tough guy.”

Just as you suspected, Dean flinches and laughs on reflex. “H-Hey! Foul move!”

His deep voice runs higher, full of censure, but it just makes you grin harder. Seeing this big man crumple like a wad of wet paper has you mounting a full-scale attack of revenge. You manage to get Dean twisting over and onto his back, where you take full advantage of his weakness and straddle his lap.

He grabs you by the wrists and pins them together while he pants for breath. You grin down at him victoriously. He chuckles just at that look on your face.

“Think you’ve caught me, huh?” he says.

“I hope so,” you reply.

You soften at your own admission. Dean does too, releasing your wrists so he can get a comfortable hold of your thighs wrapped snug around his hips. You dip down to kiss him just as nice and slow as he treated you, sweet even.

You soon find yourself tumbled down to the bed, rolling to his left side. You huff a laugh at his manhandling, but you let him hold you close and savor the feeling of being here with him. It all happened. It’s still happening. He’s yours.

But…

“What do you think Robbie’s gonna say when we tell him?” Dean asks.

You pull back far enough to see his face, and you stroke his cheek. It’s a little prickly with stubble, but you don’t mind. Actually, the rasp of it against your fingers reminds you of other places it had tingled against your sensitive skin. Your cheeks begin to warm up.

You try to break out of those thoughts, concentrating on answering his question.

“Aw, he’s gonna be happy,” you say. The kid had already been asking the hard questions.

Why aren’t you and Daddy married? Why can’t we all live together? Is Benny gonna move in with us instead?

You do sigh though. “We have to think about how we’re going to tell him. Benny’s been in his life since he was born.”

Dean breathes deeply through his nose, and he nods. He brushes your cheek with the back of his hand, a touch that returns the softer smile to your face.

“Dean, we need to do better,” you say. “From now on, we need to be honest with each other, or we’re not going to get through what comes next. We’re going to keep hurting the people we love, including each other.”

After a beat, he nods solemnly in agreement.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“So,” you grasp his hand in both of yours. You draw enough courage to ask the question that’s been burning in your mind, ever since the haze of fraught emotions, lust, love, and passion began to ebb from the forefront of your mind, calming into a resting state of happiness and content. You stare up into Dean’s eyes.

“You said that you’ve loved me for a long time,” you say. “If that’s true, why were you with Lisa so long? Why didn’t you ever talk to me about this sooner?”

Dean hums low in contemplation, almost a rumble. He squeezes your hand, and he sighs.

“Aw, sweetheart. I was so fuckin’ stupid,” he chuckles half-heartedly. Your lips twitch.

“I was, what, twenty-six when we met?” he says. “You were even younger.”

“Twenty-two,” you supply knowingly. You and Sam had just graduated from college with Eileen and a couple of your friends. Sam had been about to start law school, with you starting at your first elementary school as a first-grade teacher.

“Yeah. In my case, young and dumb,” Dean says, with a shake of his head. He pauses in contemplation. Finally, he finds the courage to meet your eyes.

“All right, here it is,” he says. “After I thought you turned me down the first time, I met Lisa. Sam had mentioned some things that started to turn my head around on how I was living, all the hookups, the boozing, that kind of thing. I knew I’d screwed up with you, not calling you after we had our thing. So, I wanted to see if I could try something steady with someone, you know?”

He takes in a deep breath. “But after you told me you were pregnant, it all just fucking hit me, the way I’d totally changed your life, and mine. I was reckless. It made me want to grow the fuck up, I guess.”

You begin to rub his arm in comfort. “I was there too, you know. It wasn’t all on you.”

He smiles at you a little. You know he sees your point, even if he still feels responsible for knocking you up.

“The more I tried to make it work with Lisa, the harder it was.” He chuckles humorlessly. “Well, that part you know. Looking back, it was probably because I still wanted you. But every time Lisa and I broke up for some stupid shit, I felt like more of a fuckup. And every time I thought of you and me, and what that could be like, I uh…I guess I was afraid of being turned down again. Or worse, afraid of fucking up your life even more.”

Your frown trembles, with the sting of fresh tears in your eyes. Dean gives you a rueful smile.

“Vicious cycle, huh?” he says. “When you got with Benny, I thought I lost my chance for sure. So I guess I just…gave up. Settled for where I was.”

Another sigh falls from your lips, along with a couple of tears that bubble over and slip down your cheeks. You sit up in bed and take Dean’s face into your hands, a gentle hold, but a meaningful one.

“Well, first of all, I want you to understand something right now. I’ve said it before, and I’m going to say it one more time so you don’t forget it.” You look deep into his eyes. “You didn’t screw up my life. I’ve never looked at it that way, and I never will. Our son is best thing that could’ve happened to me, and I’m thinking to you too.”

After a moment, he nods. “Yeah.”

You nod as well. Glad to have that settled, you let go of his face so you can wipe the tear from your cheek.

“The last few years haven’t been perfect for me either,” you say. “But I love you, Dean. I want this to be the real deal, more than anything.”

Dean grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze. He’s tempted to drag you down for a heated kiss and a hell of a lot more—maybe a nice sequel for what you guys did on the couch, and two more times in your bed an hour ago. However, something you said strikes a small bell in his mind.

“You mean to tell me it wasn’t all Brady Bunch with Mr. Rogers?” Dean says, only half joking.

You give him a censuring look. “Hey, Benny doesn’t deserve that. He doesn’t deserve…any of this.”

Dean sobers. He knows you’re right, even if he has to stamp out a stab of jealousy. He feels sorry for his friend too…even if part of him selfishly can’t feel that sorry about getting to be with you.

But you rub at your forehead, a fresh load of guilt dumping over your shoulders. You know you’ll have to talk to Benny too. As incredibly happy as you are right now, you still feel horrible for how this all shook out. You never meant to hurt him or lead him on. From the beginning, you had really appreciated his help so much after Robbie was born.

“In so many ways, he was the kind of man I wanted. Kind, reliable, honest,” you say. Dean sits up with you now against the headboard. He listens intently, no matter how his stomach twists.

It takes you time to find your words, but you begin to explain.

You had loved Benny. You still do. But you realize now, only much too late, that you hadn’t been in love with him.

While your relationship with him had always been supportive and perfectly pleasant, a secret part of you had craved more. He wasn’t one to open up so easily about his day or his work, no matter how much you tried to coax it out of him. In fairness, you know he sees a lot of things on the job that aren't meant for civilian ears, but there are only so many monosyllabic answers you can deal with.

You, on the other hand, are a talker. You always have been. You just got the feeling, sometimes, that Benny was zoning out on you when you tried to connect with him. He even admitted once that you were a bit "too much" for him.

So you talked less. You bottled most of your thoughts inside…until they eventually spilled out with Dean. It’s always been easy to talk to him. On the whole, he’s seemed interested in your stories, even the ones from school. You feel comfortable sharing all the little things about your students that have made him smile, or laugh, or furrow his brows when you admitted your concerns or your fears for them, and especially for Robbie. Even if he was fixing your leaky sink or patching up a hole from when your son attempted some indoor practice with a slingshot made out of Lego and a tube sock, Dean listened.

He understands you. You appreciate that about him.

However, you know that you’ve been unconsciously comparing him and Benny in your mind.

No relationship is perfect, you often tried reminding yourself over the past three years, even through some of the tougher moments.

…Like in the bedroom. Benny was a patient man, and a generous lover. Of course there had been sparks between you two, certainly in the beginning.

However cliché it is though, you’d just never felt…fireworks. Electricity under your skin. The Godfather Thunderbolt kind of sexual connection that sunk into your blood and made your insides quiver.

Kind of like now. You’re blushing down to your neck trying to explain this part of it to Dean. He has a hand resting casually on your thigh, but once he works past his jealousy of even the thought of you and Benny between the sheets, the reality of what you’re saying finally hits him. A smirk slowly grows across his lips.

The way he brushes a thumb back and forth across your sensitive skin—it makes the hair on your arms raise and elicits another tingle down your spine.

“So what you’re saying is,” Dean says, his voice deepening like black velvet as he draws closer. “No one makes you come like I do.”

You snort, biting your lip in blushing embarrassment, as well as the prickle of arousal trembling in your core. Wetness blooms between your legs just at the sound of his voice. You can’t quite bring yourself to answer him, but it doesn’t matter. Your eyes give him all the confirmation he needs.

Dean lures you back into his arms, and into his kiss. He guides you onto your back and blazes a sensuous trail down your body, mapping every lush curve all over again with his mouth, tongue, and fingers, until you’re a writhing mess beneath him.

The next day, Robbie is confused when you and Dean go together to pick him up from your parents’ house. You called them ahead of time for a very important reason.

You sit Robbie down in the living room there in front of your parents, who are trying not to give away the punchline with their smiles (your mom stifling her tears). You take the spot beside him on the couch.

“What’s wrong?” Robbie asks, looking from you to Dean. There’s wariness and confusion in the boy’s eyes, just a couple shades of green off from his father’s. You and Dean share an amused look. The kid is so intuitive.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Dean says. He kneels down in front of him so that he’s eye-level with his son. “You know that your mom and I care about each other, right?”

Robbie quirks his head, but he nods. “Yeah. You’re friends.”

“Well, turns out…” Dean shares another look with you, this time a gentler smile as he takes your hand in his. “We realized that we want to be more than just friends.”

Robbie blinks a few times. He takes the information in faster than you would expect for a six-year-old, giving you his furrowed brows of confusion, suspicion…and hope?

“O-Oh. Really? Buuuut what about Benny?” he asks.

Again, smart kid. Dean looks over to you for guidance on this one.

You proverbially step in with a hand on Robbie’s shoulder. You take a steadying breath, but you explain in terms you know he’ll understand.

“I know how much you love Benny. I care about him too. I care about him a lot, actually…but he just wasn’t the guy for me,” you admit. You glance over at Dean, squeezing his hand. “Your dad is the guy.”

Robbie sits with his hands in his lap and visibly processes, his little face scrunched in thought. You don’t blame him for being confused, but you remain patient, softly smiling while you rub his back. You give Dean a guiding look, warning him with your eyes to wait for Robbie to ask whatever question he has next. You can see it brewing.

“Wait, so you guys like each other?” Robbie asks. “Like, like boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Dean chuckles. “To start with. I’m thinkin’ more like husband and wife.”

Your face falls into shock. Dean bites the inside of his lip. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but it’s already out of his mouth. Can’t put that toothpaste back in the tube, can I?

Robbie gapes at his dad, and then his mom. He looks at your joined hands.

Uh oh, Dean thinks. Did we break him?

Suddenly, Robbie’s lower lip wobbles, and he starts to cry. Your eyes widen further in surprise, and now dismay along with Dean.

…Until Robbie surges forward into his dad’s arms. Dean immediately wraps his arms around his son and soothes a hand over his head.

“What’s the matter, buddy? What’s wrong?” he asks.

Robbie sniffs. “Does this mean you’re gonna come live with us?”

Dean’s worry breaks—into abject relief. He smiles. When he looks up, he finds you smiling in relief as well, albeit with tears in your eyes. He holds Robbie closer and presses a kiss on the top of his head.

“You want that, huh?” Dean asks. “Want me to come live with you guys?”

Robbie nods, burying his face in Dean’s shirt. But there’s no hiding the way his little body shakes with quiet sobs. Dean’s own eyes are suspiciously glassy, even though he smirks at the way your lower lip wobbles too. He beckons you over with a hand.

You slip off the couch and kneel on the floor too, allowing yourself to get pulled under Dean’s arm. You rest your cheek against his shoulder and bury your weeping face into his neck. This moment is everything—everything you could’ve asked for.

Your parents come around the couch as well, with your mom lovingly squeezing your shoulders and your dad resting a fatherly hand on Dean’s.

Dean can’t help but smile, so hard that it nearly cracks his face. He didn’t think his heart could ever be this full.

Well. For once, that went better than I thought.

You tap your fingers around the wide cappuccino mug nervously. You sit in what you think is the most secluded corner of the café, a strategic choice. Your eyes flit to the door again when it jingles open, but it’s just a young blonde woman with a little Pomeranian tucked under her arm. She makes her way to the barista and places her order of a lavender matcha latte and an unglazed donut.

An unglazed donut? What’s the point? you think.

You shake your head and force yourself to expel a deep breath. You wish you could’ve done this over a week ago, but you respected Benny’s wishes. He’d needed more time, and really, that was the least you could do.

A few minutes later, the little bell above the door chimes again. The familiar footfalls of heavy boots alert you to the even more familiar black jacket and jeans combo. Benny comes into view, his eyes finding you across the room in mere seconds. His face remains stoic as he approaches you.

Even now, you have no idea what he’s thinking. Is he going to be icy toward you and not say a word? Is he going to shout at you, berate you, accuse you of wasting three whole years of his life? You would probably just sit here and take it, whatever it would be. You feel like you deserve it.

Instead, he just lowers into the chair opposite you at the table. He takes a breath and rests his elbows on the table. For a moment, he just stares back at you and takes you in, from your face, lightly done with makeup, to your pretty blouse, jeans, and ankle boots.

“You look good,” he says, his tone rueful. “You don’t gotta be scared though. Not like I’m gonna start cussin’ you out in front God and everybody.”

Your lips hint at a smile. His dry brand of humor briefly lightens you.

“You know me. Overthinking is my thing,” you say. Biting your lip, your gaze lowers to the way you toy with your fingers in your lap. “Look, Benny. I wouldn’t blame you for being angry with me. You can even hate me if you want.”

Benny crosses his arms on the table, contemplating. He eventually gives you a wry, melancholy sort of smile. “Part of me’s still mad at you, I won’t lie…but there’s no use in it. Not even hating you.”

He shakes his head, and he sighs.

“Truth is, Dean and I think a lot alike,” he says. His blue-eyed gaze meets yours. “Because the moment I met you, I liked what I saw. I just had the bad luck of him getting to you first.”

Your face burns with a blush. Once again, you bite your lip.

Benny huffs a wry chuckle. “This week, I’ve been thinking…maybe I shoulda seen this coming.”

Your brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“Believe it or not, I noticed things. Things, I didn’t want to at the time,” he says. His eyes fall away from you after a moment. “You remember when you were pregnant with Robbie, and you came to the firehouse with some cookies for everybody?”

You blink at that. “Yeah, sure.”

That was the day you thought that…well, you got a hint that Benny might like you. You’d dismissed it at the time because you were so damn pregnant, waddling and sliding around like a parade float. You had wanted to test out your latest recipe of chocolate chip cookies on Dean, and the rest of the guys at the firehouse.

“Well, I knew you went there looking for Dean,” Benny says. “I saw the way your eyes lit up when he finally came by. And I saw the look on his face when he saw it was you and me together, laughin’, havin’ a good time.”

He shakes his head. “I saw that look again when I went to visit you at the hospital, the day Robbie was born… Come to think of it, this all could’ve ended that day.”

You leaned forward in your seat, now hooked on his every word. A frown pulls at your lips, while a wry one tugs at his.

“If a man wants something, he fights for it. That’s something I’ve learned, what I’ve always known to be true,” Benny says. “I thought I’d lost my chance with you before then. But when you told me you were afraid of being alone, and I saw the way Dean was all wrapped up with Lisa…I thought, shit, I could be the man you leaned on. Why not me?”

The man pauses, as if sorting back through the catalogue of memories, feelings, thoughts. He meets your sad gaze.

“But I was selfish,” he admits. “I should’ve gone to my friend and knocked some goddamn sense into him, tell him to talk to you if he really wanted you. To be the man you needed him to be. To truly be there for his family. Now, here we are.”

You fold your hands in front of your lips as you process all of this, trying to figure out what to think, let alone what to say. You do know that this is the most you’ve ever seen Benny open up.

“So if I blame you, ‘cher, I gotta blame myself just as much. At this point, all we can do is move on,” Benny says. He becomes contemplative, rubbing his bearded chin. “I gotta ask though. How’s Robbie doin’ with all of this?”

You brush a couple of tears away from your cheeks, swiping under your eyes for good measure. God, when will I be done with all this damn crying? But you take a sip of your coffee just for something to delay your answer. You knew the question would come eventually, but it still hurts you, knowing it’ll probably hurt the man in front of you.

“He misses you,” you say.

And it’s true. Your son loves Benny too—a strong, solid presence in his life since the beginning.

“You’ve told him…everything?” Benny asks. “About you and Dean too?”

You nod. “We told him last weekend.”

Benny snorts. “Y’all didn’t waste no time.”

“We didn’t want to keep it a secret. I think that would’ve been worse.”

“Nah, I get it,” he says. He drums his fingers on the table in contemplation. After a while, his blue eyes meet yours. “The kid’s happy though, isn’t he?”

You nod, giving him an honest answer. Dean is already living with you. He’s just in the process of moving his stuff out of his and Lisa’s apartment. She’s going to finish off the lease in a few months, then move out of there herself.

However, through all of the adult chaos and logistics, Robbie is all beaming smiles and excited chatter when his dad comes home. The three of you eat dinner as a family. You and Dean get to tuck in your son together at night, and wake up together the next day, sharing more than just a bed and a morning cup of coffee.

“He is,” you say. “But look, you can come by and see him, if you want to.”

“I’d like that,” Benny nods. “Just to say goodbye.”

“It doesn’t have to be forever,” you say. Once again, guilt threatens to eat you alive. “You and Dean were friends long before I came into the picture.”

Benny’s lips hint at a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“That might well be,” he says, “but there are some things that are best left put to rest.”

You know then that he means more than just your relationship.

After a beat, he stands from the table. You attempt to take in a steadying breath as you get to your feet along with him.

“I’m sorry,” you say again.

“Me too, sweetheart,” Benny says. He takes your hand and gives it one final squeeze. Neither of you say goodbye.

It may not be the last time you see each other. It’s a small town, after all. But there’s a good chance that this will be the last time you and Benny will speak for a good long while.

A few weeks later, Benny’s cart crashes into something solid in the spirits aisle of the grocery store—another cart.

That bumps into a young woman’s ass, making her yelp as she loses her balance. The merlot she was considering slips out of her hand and shatters in a plummy spill across the linoleum.

“Aw shit,” she grouses. Her head swivels over her shoulder to find a wide-eyed Benny with a glare. “Bro! Are you serious?”

He snaps out of his reverie and immediately goes over to try and help. He pushes his own cart away goes over to her, mindful of the glass under his boots.

“I’m sorry, 'cher. My bad,” he says, reaching out a hand to her. Shards of glass surrounds her in her heeled wedges. They go nicely with her blue slacks and crème-colored blazer…which is now flecked with wine.

She accepts his helping hand, albeit with a raised brow. “Cher? What, the 'do believe in life after love' lady?”

Benny pauses, but embarrassment isn’t the only thing that makes him falter. He can’t help but notice her smooth, bronze skin, her hazel eyes, her shiny brown hair coiled in a soft wave. She’s beautiful. Her clothes are expensive. She’s entirely out of his league.

“Uh, no, ma'am. Just a token of where I’m from,” Benny says. He gestures to the spill at their feet while she manages to step away from it. “Here, I’ll pay for that bottle, plus another one for you.”

Her lips twitch upward. Cocking her head, she turns and points at the price tag under the bottle she’d grabbed up.

“You wanna buy me a $50 bottle of wine?” she says. Plus the one he spilled.

Benny smiles. “And dinner to go along with it, if you want.”

She blinks, her mouth parting in surprise. But he finally wins her smile too. She takes a $15 bottle off the shelf instead.

“Believe me, this one’s better,” she says. “Where are you from, exactly?”

“Louisiana,” Benny replies.

“Hmm, interesting,” she says.

He arches a curious brow. “You?”

Her eyes take on a playful gleam. “Greece. Yes, I’m new in town. Yes, there’s a semi-interesting story behind it. We’ll save that for dinner though.”

Benny chuckles. “Well, all right.”

When a grocery store employee comes over to assess the damage, Benny promises that he’ll cover it. He and the young woman make their way to the checkout together with their carts.

“So, uh, what’s your name?” Benny asks.

She glances at him with a smile. “Andréa.”

Six months later, Eileen tearfully accepts being your Maid of Honor. You go about asking her cautiously, knowing Lisa is still her best friend. Eileen is gracious though. She admits to you that she advised Lisa to break things off with Dean more than once in their “five-year rollercoaster.”

“She just had an idea of what she wanted for her life, you know? And she’s stubborn about it. She thought Dean was the One,” Eileen tells you that afternoon. You two sip from your wine glasses on her sofa while Robbie and his three-year-old cousin are with Sam and Dean, out at a baseball game.

“I told her that Dean seemed…well, divided. At least when it came to her,” she says. “But Lisa swore that he just needed time. Time to get the hang of balancing his job, Robbie, and his relationship with her. As much as I love Lisa, I just think she didn’t want to see the signs that he wasn’t in love with her. Not enough to make him stay.”

You feel conflicted for more than one reason. On one hand, you do feel sorry for Lisa. On the other hand, you wish she would’ve just let Dean go after the first time they had that blowout argument that got them kicked out of the local Denny’s.

You hesitate before you ask, “How is she doing?”

Eileen smiles, and she signs as she speaks, knowing you’ve been practicing your ASL.

“She’s good actually. She met a guy at a yoga retreat out in Sacramento. She’s moving there in the fall. Not really for him, but because she wants a fresh start.”

“I could see that,” you nod. It’s hard to move on with your life in a small town like Lawrence, Kansas, where everybody knows your business. You’re honest when you say, “I hope she finds what she’s looking for.”

Eileen nods in agreement. Then, her eyes shift with a conspiring gleam.

“So, did you hear about Benny?”

Your eyes widen. “No, what? Is he okay?”

“Oh, I can’t believe you don’t know.”

“Girl, what?!”

“He eloped with that girl from Greece. Sam told me. They’re on a plane right now, headed to meet her family in Kalamata!”

You gasp, covering your mouth with both hands. You laugh, mostly out of shock. Eileen laughs just at the look on your face. The two of you giggle and finish your gossip along with a bottle of wine.

You’ve never met Benny’s girlfriend…excuse you, wife. Your shock turns into concern, just for a hot minute. But the more you think about it, you know that the man isn’t impulsive. It’s not in his blood. So you also have to believe that he hasn’t made this decision lightly.

From the bottom of your heart, you’re happy for him.

You almost choke on a laugh when Dean doesn’t quite get the whole chunk of complimentary chocolate into your mouth.

“Come on, baby. I know you can open wider than that,” he teases.

You laugh harder, covering your mouth so you don’t drop anything. You have to set down your champagne glass on the edge of the tub, however precarious that might be.

“Babe, if you make me get anything on this dress, I may just have to kill you,” you say. Though your threat doesn’t have much effect with your shoulders shaking with laughter.

You wiggle your toes in the hot water that’s risen up to your ankles in the tub while you and Dean sit on the edge. You’re severely regretting having a winter wedding, or at least just the part where you had to trudge through the snow on the way to your husband’s ’67 Chevy. Thank God it had just been a few minutes to the hotel.

For the sake of unfreezing your feet, the white satin and lace of your dress is bunched up high on your thighs, since you’re not quite ready to take it off yet. Dean has his slacks rolled up halfway to his knees while his feet warm up beside yours.

He looks edible himself. His suit jacket lies strewn across the edge of the king-sized bed, leaving his white dress shirt rolled up to the elbows. His tie is gone too, leaving quite a few buttons by his collar left open, and a tantalizing strip of tanned skin visible to your wandering eyes.

“What does it matter? Are you really ever gonna wear this again?” he says as he fingers the soft hem of your skirt. He then brushes the back of his hand against your arm, your shoulder, your cheek. You smile and lean into his hand.

“’Course I am. Whenever I wanna feel all pretty and bride-like,” you say.

Dean’s smile crinkles the corner of his eyes. He cups your cheek and brings you closer, but he stops just shy of your lips.

“Well, for one thing, you’re already beautiful. Two, you’re always gonna be my bride.” He punctuates that uncharacteristic cheesiness with a kiss that warms you down to your toes. You grab ahold of his collar and breathe into it, humming softly.

You part from him, just to tell him something that’s been burning on your heart.

“Can you promise me something?”

His thumb brushes against your lower lip, flashing you a little smirk. “Depends.”

Your lips press together, but you can’t help the smile trying to break through. You catch each button on his shirt with your nails to undo the rest of them, one by one.

“No matter what comes next, whatever arguments, fights, drama, all of it, promise me that you’ll remember right now. Tonight,” you say. “Remember that you’re my best friend. My love. The father of my kid. None of that ever changes.”

Dean pulls you in even closer by your waist. His long fingers run along the small round buttons lacing down your spine. Already he’s calculating how he’s going to pop every one of them open without ruining your pretty dress.

“It’s a promise, sweetheart,” he says. And just like the vows he made in that chapel, he means these words with every conviction. “None of it ever changes.”

Well, there are some things that change. They have to, after all.

One of the biggest ones happens almost a year to the day after your winter wedding. Your daughter is born on January 25th at exactly 12:05 A.M.

Dean calls her the best belated birthday present he’s ever gotten.

He wipes at his watery eyes when his brother steps into the hospital room, where only Dean and your mom had been allowed in during the delivery. (He wanted to avoid the clusterfuck of commotion that happened the first time you were in labor. You had wholeheartedly agreed.)

While Eileen stays behind for now with their son, Sam guides Robbie inside by his shoulders. The kid had been ambivalent about the new arrival when you and Dean first told him you were going to have another baby, but in the nine-ish months since, the eight-year-old has begun to come around to the idea of having a little sister. He approaches your bedside, encouraged by your tired smile.

“Hey, baby. Meet the baby,” you joke.

Dean welcomes Robbie over with a hand on his shoulder, squeezing warmly. Robbie hesitates, but he leans up on his toes to peer at the bundle wrapped in your arms. He considers her little face peeking out of the downy crème blanket. She wears a little pink cap to keep her newborn head warm.

“She’s beautiful,” Sam says, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

“She’s so tiny,” Robbie says.

“You were just like that,” Dean says, “’til you sprouted up outta the ground like a stalk a’ wheat.”

Robbie gives his father an indignant look. “I didn’t pop outta the ground!”

You shush him softly, despite your shoulders shaking with laughter. Sam thumps his older brother’s back. The two share a look that’s suspiciously shiny, full of nostalgia.

Dean soothes a hand over Robbie’s head.

“You’re a big brother now, son,” he says. “It’s a big responsibility. Think you can handle it?”

Robbie looks a little uncertain. His gaze leaves his dad and falls on the baby. The more he stares at her peaceful sleeping face, the more she looks kinda cute to him. He smiles.

“Yeah,” he says.

He reaches out and gently touches her cheek. Her skin is soft and delicate. His fingertips are slow and careful.

You and Dean glance at one another. Your eyes blur over with tears, but your husband is there to lean in and press a kiss to your forehead.

“We still gotta decide on a name,” he whispers.

That, you know. It hasn’t been any easier picking your daughter’s name than it was your son. Sue you if you refuse to name your child after another rocker, no matter how badass Stevie Nicks is.

You bite your lip, leaning your head on Dean’s shoulder as a giddy laugh pours out of you.

“Game on, baby.”

AN: And there we have it! We went a little deeper into some things that were implied and touched on in Part 2, but hopefully it feels like a more complete ending to this version of Dean and the reader's story, along with everyone else in between! ❤️❤️‍🔥❤️

In a couple of weeks, for those of you who read Smoke Eater, there will be a little sequel drabble that sees that version of firefighter!Dean getting another big piece of his dream...

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huffelpuff210 · 22 hours ago

Text

Dark Steve Rogers x Shifter Reader

Dark Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Non Con, forced relationship, collar, dominance play,

Summery: Steve is tired of you not talking to him and giving him the cold shoulder.

Steve watched you from a distance as you nodded as Bucky talked to you with his arms crossed, your body language told Steve that you were completely relaxed around his long time friend, this pissed him off,

You and Steve seemed to clash he didn’t know why sure you never uttered a word to him, but you would growl at him, scrunching your nose at him, Tony often said you were more animalistic than human, giving what Bucky explained all HYDRA put you though it’s not surprising, but Steve couldn’t control himself around you, he was always pointing out your flaws,

Telling you everything you did wrong, and even would ask if you were understanding him at all, Bucky and a lot of the team told him he was being harsh, but he was only doing that to get you to utter a word to him, but still you refused, you would growl aggressively at him and storm out leaving the tower for hours coming back covered in blood, but you couldn’t control yourself any longer you would venture to the wood shifting and hunting down anything in sight hopping it would keep the animal side in you at bay hoping you wouldn’t return only to rip Steve to shreds,

He was hard on you, no one else just you and you never understood it, when you would return he would be standing there waiting with his arms crossed in a disappointed way, he would make comments like,

‘I should have known someone like you would act this way.’

‘I really shouldn’t be surprised at this point.’

“Do you have no control what so ever?’

“You really are a beast in human form aren’t you.’

it pissed you off to no end,

Steve continued to glare, but you paid no mind to him at this point you just ignored him,

But what Steve really wanted most was you, he wanted you underneath him begging, moaning while he claimed his territory on you since you were more animal than human,

He just relished in the thought of claiming you as his, dominating you, he knew you wouldn’t be able to fend him off strength wise, but claws and teeth would hurt like hell he needed something to subside that part of you, He smirked knowing exactly what to do

Tony was having his annual party, it was dress casual thankfully you hated dressing up, in fact you hated parties all together but Bucky insisted it would get you out of your hard shell like he always says, you were guarded and for good reasons, HYDRA put you though hell, you barely talked only because you were trying your hardest to keep control,

The animals struggle to gain control over you so you are always trying to keep them in check, Steve makes that very difficult, sure he’s a good teacher but how he always is making rude comments makes it hard not to tear him apart,

You were sitting on the couch alone when Steve sits next to you, you narrow your eyes at him he hands you a drink, it was cider no smell of booze,

“I’m sorry..” He says

“I know I’ve been hard on you it’s only so you can succeed.” He says with a smile

You just nod taking a sip of the drink, it was good,

you both sat there for the majority of the party until you started feeling very hot, your vision started tilting you quickly stood up leaving the party heading towards your room, as you entered your room someone quickly pinned you against the wall you were about to attack only to feel something form around your neck, and you couldn’t you couldn’t access your animals either, you looked at your attacker, it was Steve you stood there in shock he only smirks,

“This was the only way sweetheart.” He says tapping on the collar

“Now we can begin.” He says he has his hand around your throat backing you towards the bedroom, you try fighting him but you find your strength was gone as well, he smirks at your reaction,

“Don’t worry sweetheart it’s not gone for good, but just for this moment.” He says making you fall on the mattress

He his on top of you in seconds before you can make a run for it. You glare at him

“Don’t look at me like sweetheart you are going to enjoy this, I promise.” He says with a smirk

He takes off his shirt while he was still straddling you, it finally clicks and you try landing a punch at him he grabs your wrist glaring down at you,

“I wouldn’t do that.” He says with a glare.

His hand pins you hand above your head you let out a hiss,

He smirks,

“You have know Idea how long I have waited for this moment.” Steve says smirking

You let out a growl,

While he had both of your hands pinned above your head he uses his other hand to rip your shirt to shreds,

The animal instinct in you loved the dominance something about being over powered did something to not only you but the animals in you, but you refused to show it, you tried to lift your legs to buck him off but it did nothing,

He chuckled

“If I knew you were hiding such a beautiful body… I would have done this sooner..” He says his hand skimming up the inside of your thigh

You try to squirm out of his grip but it was too tight,

“It’s no use, At this point I am stronger than you, this..” He says with his hand on the collar,

“It keeps you weak, and completely at my mercy,” He says his lips capturing your lips the kiss was so dominate his hands rip your bra to shreds causing you to groan,

He nearly growls,

His lips connect with your nibble making you groan and arch your back,

“Mmm so sensitive,” You could feel him smirk against your breast

You never felt a feeling like this before, His hand slipped in your shorts entering your wet channel

“S- Steve.” You growled

He looked at you

“That’s it sweetheart, I knew you could talk to me,” He smirked

His fingers pumping in and out of you,

You felt as if you were about to lose your mind, you felt a knot forming in your stomach it was getting tighter, and tighter the more he pumped his fingers in you as his mouth swirling around your nipple, you felt like you were going to explode

The knot inside you snapped you arched your back as you let out a growl and moan,

Steve pulled his fingers out of you taking his mouth off of your breast, you thought it was over but he impatiently yanked your shorts and panties off your legs, he removed his shirt revealing his toned and muscular chest his bulging arms, you would be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to the man, but you just figured you were out of his league,

Steve could see the lust in your eyes, He smirked he knew you were based off of animals and like any human and animal it just took the right motivation he yanked his pants and boxers down, slowly crawling up the bed,

“W-Wait Steve.. I’ve-” You began but turn your head away

Steve smirked knowing exactly what you were going to say how it turned him on even more to know that he was going to be your first and last if he had anything to say about it.

“I know..” He says prying your legs apart

“It will only hurt a little.” He says smirking down at you with a quickly motion thrusting into you making you growl and eyes flash yellow at him growling up at him

He smirked

capturing your lips with his, you were gripping him tightly he could almost cum right there,

“Go sweetheart your so tight..” He groaned,

Steve didn’t waste any time, pulling out almost all the way only to thrust back in, his thrusts hard and deep making you moan, it actually made him go deeper making you moan was one of his goals,

He enjoyed hearing the noises coming from you, your hands clawing at his back making him groan in pleasure, Steve grips your hims roughly he could tell you were right at the edge at how tight you were gripping him, he was close as well,

“Cum for me sweetheart,” He groaned thrusting deeper and harder the room smelling of sweat and musk,

God he wasn’t going to last much longer,

Then he felt it you came so hard you arched your back as you came,

He came harder than he had ever came before, both of you panting and out of breath,

He slowly pulls out of you laying on his back,

He was so wrapped up in the pleasure he didn’t notice you straddling his hips this surprised him,

You snarled at him,

“You think your done captain?” You growled

This made him smirk,

#avengers fic #mcu smut #dark avengers #steve rogers fic #dark smut #dark steve x smut reader #obsessive steve rogers #dark marvel #soft dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rodgers imagine #steve rodgers x reader #shifter reader #non con #dub con

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icewindandboringhorror · 6 months ago

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"We can get through this by working together, reach out to your friends, community is all we have, a social network will be your security in the world, now is the time to lean on others!"

I do agree, and it's scientifically sound (pretty sure there is data about how people with better social networks live longer and etc) but also....augh..... what about the severe social issues, difficulty to leave the house, physical issues which lead to like zero socialization energy a majority of the time, etc. etc. Social support can be a replacement for structural support, but.. I guess I just wish it didn't have to be. Community is extremely difficult to build, even moreso if you're someone who has issues with social cues or group conversations or even just being around others in the first place. And blah, nuance, of course I'm just complaining or maybe being too negative or maybe misunderstanding, but, I hardly have the energy to brush my hair once every 2 months.. how am I supposed to maintain a wide social network and be active in a Community and Join Groups lol... sometimes it kind of feels like "er.. well if thats my only option then...... ruh roh". It's overwhelming

#Kind of like some post I saw a long time ago talking about how even the meanest shittiest most difficult to get along with #elderly people or whaever still deserve to have some sort of systems in place to support them so they're not just relying on the #grace of relatives or etc. who may not be able to deal with them. Not saying that I'm like mean and cruel or anything #but the fact of the matter is in most social situations either I am compromising or the other person is. Not in like an ~`ouuu im so weirdd #nobody willever understand my quirky swagg hee heee~' way but like a.. Just factually the things that make me happy and comfortable #are often incompatible with people. The way I communicate and process things is different from the way other people do and that #is always a barrier. I cannot have ''easy''' interactions. Even with 'understanding' people there is nearly always a significant #amount of effort. You can't walk into a group of people and then be like ''okay you guys all have to wear #masks and you also cant play music too loud and also we should communicate turns of speaking very clearly so group conversations #arent too stressful. and also i need this and that and we have to do this and that and '' etc. etc. You CAN. And some people will #go along with that. but they will ALWAYS secretly resent you for it. You will be the one person they're relieved to not have to be around.#theyre glad when you dont show up since they can go back to doing things however they want and not masking and all these boring #annoying things. OR you can say none of that and just deal with the loud music and the talking and the unmasked people. but then #YOU'RE compromising. and no matter how nice they are it's exhausting to be around and youre just further alienated #while in the presence of people and uncofmrtoabel the whole time.#Which I'm not saying the only form of community is a group setting specificially but just giving that as an example lol #I just wish there were a better option than ''well learn to socialize normally or just suffer then'' . Which I know is not what people are #saying. I guess I just always feel a bit scared when 'community is the answer'. Since its not like 'oh im just socially anxious and need to #get out of my shell~!' or something thats really that remedy-able. It's like.. my mostly unchangeable physical health issues combined #with the mostly unchangable literal way that my brain processes sensory informationand other things means that interacting with #others in a normal and easy way is incredibly difficult and often exhausting especially to maintain in any longform fashion. So then #when it's like ''the answer to staying safe is to maintain longform social connections!! :3 just reach out!!'' then.. ermm... O_O #also I'm not even one of the cutesy shy emotional hermits that's nervous. I'm the Bad Stereotype emotionless robotic cold seeming #looms in the corner of the room type of thing so people have less pity on you in that way. -_- ANYWAY gghj #I need like.. a designated social representative or something.. When I did work in that bookshop forever ago they gave me a #person who basically was just with me to help communicate with others on my behalf and supervise me and stuff. I need that.. Some #more extraverted person I can latch onto and they can maintain the Social Support Network for me and I can just be their +1 to all #of the Social Things and community. I have helpful skills I can contribute to other people and stuff it's just like.. I cant socialize lol #I cook food or something for you.. then you keep me in contact with Community.. a deal. (but then what about when I'm too sick to #contribute? as is often the case. there's not much place for people like me in communities sometimes i fear.. sigh.) ***

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britneyshakespeare · 9 months ago

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i'm very interested what ppl find to be the harder shakespeare plays and which they found to be easier. bc i was googling out of curiosity and i found a sparknotes article (link if you're curious) that ranked ten of the most commonly-read plays on difficulty and it put king lear kinda down low whereas it put julius caesar pretty high because of the politics/complicated conflicts. that kind of baffled me because julius caesar was the first tragedy i read outside of the classroom and i found it very approachable; it's one i often recommend to people trying to get into shakespeare because the plot is already familiar to most ppl and you can just enjoy the poetry and how shakespeare chooses to characterize these figures. on the other hand i read king lear a few years later in my shakespeare journey, and to be honest i still kind of have a hard time with lear. maybe i just don't connect with it on some level; i'm not sure. it's not a very tightly-organized play where the action is as centered as in the other tragedies like hamlet or macbeth. that's certainly a me thing and maybe that'll change with age. but i'm always a little surprised when i find someone's experience with the plays so much different than mine.

anyway if you're reading this feel free to reblog and tag or comment which shakespeare plays you found yourself falling into most naturally and which worlds you felt like you had to force yourself into. i'm interested in what ppl feel on this subject

#i also had a hard time w love's labor's lost for comedies. idk i just didn't connect w any of the characters tho the premise is interesting #on my inexplicable third hand: once i primed myself w the historical context to get into the wars of the roses plays i found them addictive #which is funny bc before i read them i kinda NEVER thought i'd get around to the histories #bunch of dead kings i had never heard of. i was like what care is that to me?#text post #shakespeare #king lear #julius caesar #sparknotes #that article rated cymbeline as the most difficult if you were wondering. which i think is an interesting choice #bc it's not really one of the top 10 you're most likely to be presented with #i LOVED cymbeline but it was like. the 30th play i had read. something like that lol #so clearly i was quite used to shakespeare by the time i read it. i wasn't someone who needed to psyched up to read him #(although even i can have a hard time w shakespeare still... and i have only 3 plays left once i finish this last scene in m4m)#i can't say it's a good play for a beginner to start with at all. for many reasons. but cymbeline is a great play.#a midsummer night's dream was also very easy to get into and that was the first one i read on my own #isn't it one of everyone's firsts? it's magnificent i mean. it's unmatched #and it's also one of the shortest and easiest to understand with some of the most lovely lyrical poetry #troilus and cressida was hard and i don't particularly like that one... waiting to change my mind #both t&c and love's labor's are ones i only read once and never watched in any form #so maybe i should give them another shot #i HAVE given lear a couple of other shots and i still find it kind of impenetrable to be honest #it's not that i don't understand the surface level. but i can't. idk. i can't feel much about it #by shakespeare standards

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swallowtail-ageha · 2 months ago

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Its always so funny to me to see people on tumblr lose their shit over discovering the oh hellos' songs are religious. Tumblr users discover analyzing the lyrics instead of going on vibes

#even funnier is when people try to spin them as being songs where they are all like 'i love jesus'#while like. a massive chunk of their works talks about less religion and more religious crisis #and trying to concile christianity's teachings to what people who call themselves good christians do #but again. this site thinks that take me to church is the greatest critique to religion that has ever been done #they cant handle anything subtler than 'oh my god CHURCH tells LIES'#(sorry i am kinda defensive of this band bcs unironically their songs helped me distance myself fully from being religious lmao #they were very formative in a very difficult time)

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motomamita · 11 months ago

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fugitive!könig × naive!farmer!reader

warnings: smut, +18, no condom, innocence kink, breeding kink, baby trapping, virginity loss, female reader, dub-con!!

fugitive!könig who managed to escape the law, after committing several crimes, and now travels throughout the country hiding his identity.

On one of his many trips he ends up arriving at a small town, almost lost in time, where its few inhabitants live off their animal farms and orchards. Apparently no one had televisions, and the few radios only broadcast music that was overshadowed by static. This ensured that no one there would be able to recognize him and gave him the opportunity to stay and rest for a few hours.

Tired of walking and extremely hungry, König sat down in a small cafe to have a drink. The people around him looked at him strangely, not only because they didn't know him but also because of his intimidating appearance. His back was broad, he had long legs, and the muscles in his arms were noticeable even though he was wearing a wind jacket that covered him. However, no one seemed to be bothered by his presence, the people there loved tourists and König seemed completely like one.

When it was time to pay, he noticed that he had ordered and consumed more than he could afford. He was about to offer some of his "camping" knives in exchange for the money he was missing until a figure approached him.

"Don't worry if you don't have the money to pay." you spoke with a sweet voice and doing everything possible so that Konig would not feel embarrassed. "I sell the fruits to the owner of the place so I'm sure I can reach an agreement with him."

König was fascinated by you. Not only because of your timely friendliness but also your very natural and almost unique appearance that was very difficult to find in other places. You were wearing a jean gardener, some comfortable shoes and you were carrying a basket that minutes ago was full of fruits and vegetables from your garden. König looked down, somewhat shy and not knowing how to react to you, the truth is that during his escape he had not met many friendly people.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you for anything in return." You smiled when you saw that no words came out of his mouth. "Here we greatly appreciate tourists and travelers, after all they are the ones who keep this small town from turning into a ghost town."

You invited König to take refuge in your small house for as long as he needed before leaving again for another place. König accepted, surprised at your remarkable naivety in letting a complete stranger into your house and providing him with all the care.

When he arrived, you showed him where the shower was and what his room would be where he could rest. You left a clean change of clothes on his bed and selflessly went off to make dinner. Once he cleaned, König followed the delicious smell and came to the kitchen where you were on your back stirring a large pot of what seemed to be a stew. You were so focused that you didn't notice the presence of the big man behind you. he thought about how easy it would be to cut your neck with one of those long knives you had there. But the idea quickly disappeared when you turned around and a wide smile formed on your face when you saw him.

That stew was the best he had tasted in a long time, so much so that he served himself 3 plates, leaving you totally pleased. The next morning, König didn't really know exactly what to do. He could stay one more night and wake up in the middle of the night to raid your entire home, even leave after having a trip with you. He was hesitant, and that hesitation turned into doubt when you offered to cut his hair and trim his long beard, which he accepted.

That same afternoon König sat down to drink a lemonade made by you while he watched you harvest super large, red strawberries from a distance. He fixed his gaze on the way your pants hugged your butt in a tempting way and how you hummed a melody quietly that he couldn't make out. A tingling appeared in König's tummy and he suddenly noticed an erection growing inside his pants. You looked so pretty, so innocent. It was obvious from afar that you didn't kill a fly and that your care for him was sincere.

The days passed and König seemed to have no intention of leaving, that didn't bother you at all. Now he helped you with the heavy work on the farm, carrying large amounts of hay on his shoulder and feeding the animals. His favorite activity was watching you milk the cows, fantasizing about your hands and the way the milk dripped from them.

His approaches to you intensified, taking advantage of the slightest opportunity to touch you or rub against you. he soon discovered that you had no idea about any sexual activity, acting confused at his double meaning words and insinuations. You were the perfect muse to fulfill all his fantasies without anyone being able to stop him.

Your parents had died a long time ago, leaving you alone in charge of the big farm and all the obligations of the adult world. That led König to think that life on that farm couldn't be bad. He knew how to handle hard work well and you did everything you could to teach him and please him. The idea of starting from scratch, with you there, totally convinced him.

You were a healthy, hard-working woman and you needed someone like konig with you. But König needed to have something that would force you to keep him there with you, forever and that would confirm the mutual love that you both had to give each other. That's when he found the solution: he had to get you pregnant.

That afternoon he made a point that you wouldn't leave the stable until you were full of his cum. He started by complimenting your dress and how pretty that color looked on you. Then the caresses that increased in intensity until he managed to let you be carried away by him and his carnal desire. Now he had you under him, with your skirt up and your underwear hanging from one of your feet. Out of desperation, König only lowered his pants to his heels, even with his work boots on. You were on a large pile of hay, sweating from the great summer heat and moaning loudly.

His thrusts were brutal, making their way inside you that you barely had time to understand everything that was happening. The pleasure was so much that you could barely think about anything other than König's gaze and the way his balls slapped your ass.

"Oh, baby. You're so so tight.. And wet, shit" König groaned, sighing loudly at the pleasure your pussy was giving him. "Tell me, how did a cute little thing like you stay a virgin for so long, huh?" You opened your mouth to answer but only moans came out. "Uh? Talk to me, sweetheart, talk to me.."

"I.. I don't know.." you managed to say, overstimulated by everything. König's rough shirt rubbed against your clit, giving both pleasure and pain. König was so big that he covered you with his entire body, leaving you with almost no place to breathe air other than his breath.

"Uh? Don't you know? These farm boys are idiots... They wouldn't know how to please a pretty thing like you..." König cut off his sentence to get even closer to you and kiss you, putting his tongue inside your mouth. You tried to keep up with him but that triggered the kiss to be even wetter and hotter for him.

"König.. Give me more, please!" He smiled as he heard the urgency in your broken voice. You looked so pretty like that, almost not understanding what was happening but still pleased and eager for him to give you even more.

He, ready to please you, grabbed your legs and raised them to your shoulder, adopting a new position. His thrusts continued, his fat cock forcing its way into your no longer so virgin pussy and the simple sound of your skin slapping together made your warm walls embrace him. Not really knowing what to do, you brought your hands to König's big, muscular shoulders, feeling a few scars on them.

"Oh, my pretty little thing.. I'm going to fill you inside and you're going to be the prettiest mom in this whole damn town.." You dug your nails into his shoulder and your gaze was filled with confusion. "You like it, huh? You're going to make me so happy, isn't that what you want?"

You hesitated for a few seconds, not sure what he meant but his cock rammed even deeper into you leaving you almost without any thought. Tears formed in your eyes from the pleasure and absolute adoration with which he looked at you.

"Come on, mommy.. Make me happy, carry my precious baby.."

In the same way that König had managed to get his way in prison, he had gotten his way with you. Now you both lived together as a couple on the farm, happy and with a baby on the way inside your fertile womb.

#cod fanfic #cod #konig call of duty #cod smut #cod x reader #konig cod #konig x reader #breeding k1nk #könig x reader #konig smut #fugitive!konig #könig smut #naive!reader #farmer!konig #dubc0n #baby trapping #könig #könig cod #könig call of duty

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reasonsforhope · 3 months ago

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"A medical technology company in Australia is aiming for a world-first: it wants to launch a blood test for endometriosis (sometimes called 'endo' for short) within the first half of this year [2025].

In a recent peer-reviewed trial, its novel test proved 99.7 percent accurate at distinguishing severe cases of endometriosis from patients without the disease but with similar symptoms.

Even in the early stages of the disease, when blood markers may be harder to pick out, the test's accuracy remained over 85 percent.

The company behind the patent, Proteomics International, says it is currently adapting the method "for use in a clinical environment," with a target launch date in Australia for the second quarter of this year [2025].

The test is called PromarkerEndo.

"This advancement marks a significant step toward non-invasive, personalized care for a condition that has long been underserved by current medical approaches," managing director of Proteomics International Richard Lipscombe said in a press release from December 30.

Endometriosis is a common inflammatory disease that occurs when tissue similar to the lining of the uterus grows in other parts of the body, forming lesions. The disease can be very painful, and yet the average patient often suffers debilitating symptoms for up to seven years before they are properly diagnosed.

While there are numerous reasons for such a long delay, symptoms of endometriosis are often highly variable, unpredictable, difficult to measure or describe, and dismissed or overlooked by doctors.

Today, the only definitive way to diagnose endometriosis is via keyhole surgery called a laparoscopy, which is expensive, invasive, and carries risks.

Proteomics International is hoping to change that.

In collaboration with researchers at the University of Melbourne and the Royal Women's Hospital, the company compared the bloodwork data from 749 participants of mostly European descent.

Some had endometriosis and others had symptoms that were similar to endo but without the lesions. All participants had a laparoscopy to confirm the presence or absence of the disease.

Sifting through the bloodwork, researchers ran several different algorithms to figure out which proteins in the blood were best at predicting endometriosis of varying stages.

Building on previous research, a panel of 10 proteins showed a "clear association" with endometriosis.

For years now, scientists have investigated possible blood biomarkers of endometriosis to see if they could differentiate between those who have endo and those who do not. Similar to cancerous tumors, endo lesions can establish their own blood supply, and if cervical cancer can be diagnosed via a blood test, it seemed possible that endometriosis could be, too...

Proteomics International claims patents for PromarkerEndo are "pending in all major jurisdictions," starting first in Australia.

It remains to be seen if the company's blood test lives up to the hype and is approved by the Australian Therapeutic Goods Administration (TGA). But that's not outside the realm of possibility.

In November of 2023, some researchers predicted that a "reliable non-invasive biomarker for endometriosis is highly likely in the coming years."

Perhaps this is the year."

-via ScienceAlert, January 9, 2025

Note: As someone with endometriosis, let me say that this is a HUGE deal. The condition is incredibly common, incredibly understudied, and incredibly often dismissed. Massive sexism at work here.

I got very lucky and got diagnosed after about 6 months of chronic pain (and extra extra lucky, because my pain went away with medication). But as the article says, the average time to diagnosis is seven years.

Being able to confirm endometriosis diagnoses/rates without invasive surgery will also lead to huge progress in studying/creating treatments for endo.

And fyi: If you have a period that is so painful that you can't stand up, or have to go home from school/work, or vomit, or anything else debilitating (or if any of those things apply if you forget to take pain meds), that is NOT NORMAL, and you should talk to a competent gynecologist asap.

#endometriosis #periods #menstrual cycle #menstruation #chronic pain #period pain #period problems #period cramps #medical news #medical sexism #australia #good news #hope

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thalwri · 3 months ago

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NOBLE ARRANGEMENT

synopsis: with a marriage you didn't want and a terrible first impression, you weren't too sure your life with sylus would be peaceful. but what if there was a little nerve loosening component that could help?

warnings: porn with plot, smut, arranged marriage, use of aphrodisiacs, inappropriate use of evol (if you squint), mutual masturbation, oral sex over and lowkey under a table (m! and f! receiving), biting, floor sex, creampie, petnames

wc: 11,6k

a/n: I was rewatching dune prophecy (for the third time) and I felt a little creative. hope you enjoy!

you were a lady.

or so you were raised to be. having been brought up in the high society of the city of linkon, you knew your social purpose amongst others and you also knew you had to make a place for yourself beyond being a delectable, innocent, and poised young woman brandished for the wealthy to negotiate through joining families. you had to be a hunter; an unapproachable entity that was most desired yet most difficult to obtain.

behave appropriately, act well amongst your peers, and also know how to defend yourself against the crude wanderers that lurked within the shadows. it had been made law that every citizen was forbidden from traveling around in the dark of night due to the unsafe nature of the environment. but you were never truly one to follow the rules among others.

that is, until you found yourself fighting for your life against the very creatures the law was created for you to avoid.

your given abilities were useful for you to defend yourself but they were more impactful when partnered with another– a privilege you currently did not have. your attire, bedazzled in jewels and badges representing your awards for the late soiree you had just left, was torn and stained with your own blood and the dirt of the ground.

you had considered that night to be your final celebration of your freedom. though you didn’t really anticipate being attacked by wanderers to be on the palate for your night. your blunting blade in hand trembled as your arms suffered from tremors of stress, pain and exhaustion.

your breathing was ragged and your body ached. had you worn your riding attire, perhaps the battle would have fared more in your favour. you had effectively destroyed more than seven lurking wanderers, the following were stronger and larger than the last. morale was reaching a low, and your energy was not enough to sustain yet another battle without you collapsing.

though if your corpse was to be found, you would wish it was in good condition and not ruffled, so you straightened your form and held your blade as stiffly as you could force your body to. you would not lose your life piously or aimlessly. you were raised to hold a blade like a warrior adorned with her femininity, and you would die as such. after all, a death by the blade would always be better than a marriage to a man orchestrated by your stepfather.

a foreign man, you had heard from his private meetings. a foreigner with a questionable background, having travelled multiple worlds and fought endless battles. the more he conquered, the higher the bounty on his head. the imperial council, from what the gossipers have whispered across the entirety of linkon, has done little to none to control the “beast” or the “relentless conquerer”. though from what you’ve heard their lenience was also due to him allegedly being of noble rank. he ran amok, with his blood red eyes, and hair as white as a ghost’s chilling grasp.

his iron fist ran a vast network of crows, all known in union as onychinus. like a marbled table spreading its onyx darkness across the known universe, onychinus stretched its arms into every known and potentially unknown world marking its territory and ensuring its name was remembered. ensuring the name sylus was unforgotten.

the same sylus you were doomed to marry.

you didn’t know which god to pray to for your last battle, not that you were religious to begin with. but it was customary for anyone who held their last blade to send a prayer if they believed they near taking their final breath. so you briefly muttered your gratitudes, your repentances, and your pleas to them all hoping at least one would listen.

the heavy thumps of the wanderer drew painfully near. you solemnly opened your eyes, readjusting your grip and preparing your body to strike. your lips move rapidly as you repeat your words in a broken mantra.

“the blade pierces fear, the blade pierces fear.”

the caws of a crow disrupted your mental flow, distracting you momentarily. in an instant, a gust of darkness rushed past you with a shadow of darkness tinted with red following. the wanderer was blown back by the blunt impact of the shadow, then again. and again. until its arm was separated from its body, then one of its legs, making it topple over.

a flash of darkness rushed past you, assaulting the wanderer in crude blows, a double light trail of red following its movements and soft, white tufts flowing with the wind as the scent of spice flowed into your nostrils. perhaps an energy-based evol? with red eyes and what seemed like white hair– it couldn’t be. no way in hell could it be.

you quickly stumbled back, hearing the crow’s noise grow louder until a loud crackle of energy and a heavy screech silenced the night. the wanderer was obliterated. literally blown into energetic dust as if erased from existence– or rather transformed and reduced to the crystal core before you.

you remembered your father– your biological father– teaching you about protocores, but you had never seen one until now. you reached for it with a shaky, bloody hand, tempted to feel that peculiar thing you’ve always wondered about but a large hand beat you to it, crushing the core to dust with the same energetic shadow.

“best not touch what you don’t understand,” the deep voice sent chills down your spine. you blinked, whipping your head towards the source only to find a gust of falling black feathers in the air. you caught one before the rest blew far from your reach, carefully storing it on your person. a small souvenir wouldn’t hurt especially after the one you wanted was destroyed.

“what i don’t understand?” you scoffed. “says the douche bag that broke the protocore and disappeared!”

you felt like the air got kicked out of your lungs. you deeply exhaled and leaned against the wall of a modiste. it must have been an hour since you left that soiree. your best option would be to sneak into the manor to avoid getting a telling to from your stepfather. but if he did perhaps your mother wouldn’t have to deal with him, especially in her current state.

you pushed yourself to your feet and began to walk back where you came from. you had intended to take a small walk before you returned to your estate on horseback. if you had taken the motorcycle, someone would have noticed. it wasn’t your first time sneaking out after the curfew.

there was a quick route through the crowd of stumbling drunks that also completed their night of drinking and possible fornication, not considering the risk of being both drunk and open to the sharp claws of the nearby wanderers. it was almost like those creatures were attracted to foolishness– though to be fair, you were recently attacked.

you eventually found your horse impatiently waiting for you with a very timid and very pissed off valet.

“i work with keeping cars safe, my lady,” he hissed, roughly handing the reins to you. “cars. not rude horses!”

“perhaps you should have been nicer,” you muttered, fumbling through the holographic screen of your watch. a high pitched ring sounded and echoed onto his wrist. “payment for your hard work, good sir.”

the valet’s mood quickly rose as he fully digested the price paid for his ‘service fee’. he grinned and quickly bowed to you continuously, thanking you for your generosity and asking for you to return with your horse again.

you smiled to yourself as you settled on the saddle, and patted your horse to start moving. the valet was still singing praises to you as the distance between the two of you grew increasingly larger.

“like i’d ever let him touch you again, my sweet.” you crooned, stroking the mane of your horse. you checked the time and hissed in worry. it was the middle of the night and your stepfather would soon be waking up to plot and ponder in his study like he always did.

“hyah!” your horse’s calming trot gradually transitioned into a sprint, carrying you through the late night towards your family home. you’d be there in minutes if you maintained your speed. throughout your travels you couldn’t shake off a weird feeling from your shoulders. as far from the central city as you were, you still felt like you were being watched.

one of the few interesting concepts of these ‘arranged’ marriages was that neither of partners in the wedded couple were allowed to see each other until the day of the wedding. and even those weren’t subtle.

huge celebrations would be held to celebrate unions and from the rumours you’ve heard along with what you’ve seen, the bride and groom would have already met one another at least a month prior at some party or another event where it would be difficult to track who comes in and when.

your case was slightly more discouraging, considering you only knew of the tales laced with potential deceit and fear regarding your husband-to-be. no secret rendezvous, no hidden in plain sight meetups like all the others blabbered on about. you were going to experience the real deal of having your hand and choice in who you marry signed off by a man who wasn’t even your biological father.

and that fury was why you threw a glass of juice at him during your adornment fittings. your wedding dress was far from simple. it was adorned with precious jewels around the neckline and embroidered on your back in the shape of your family’s crest. it was more than transparent that your wedding was considered big if your stepfather was going through the expenses of ensuring your dress was extravagant, inviting multiple politically influential figures, and trying to trap you within the estate until this very day.

it was to ‘maintain your purity’, according to him. though, that was no longer a claim you owned. not since your twentieth birthday. and that was five years ago.

and that doesn’t include the other outrageous comments and demands he made. one of them– and definitely not limited to that– involved him wanting you to give him grandchildren. grandchildren. as if he would have the privilege to ever see them!

he could fuck off and get his grandchildren from the bastard kids he’d abandoned for all you cared.

“you insolent wretch–“ the old man’s hands balled into fists as he slowly rose to his feet. the maids standing on either side of the dining room shifted to the sides of the door to give you passage to run in case he got violent.

“oh, are you going to banish me?” you bitterly chuckled, not minding his impeding anger radiating towards you. you cut through your croissant and relished in every bite as if it were the most important thing in the world. “do remember my mother and i are both more than capable of handling ourselves without you.”

you absentmindedly listened to him draw a deep, heavy breath before sighing and returning to his seat. “your mother is ill.”

the fork and knife in your hands dropped onto the plate, clattering around the room’s silence like the resonating waves of a bullet firing into an empty field. your gaze slowly flickered to him.

“and you aren’t getting any younger.” he scoffed, looking you up and down as if you weren’t known as one of the most beautiful women in high society. “you must serve your purpose to this family–“

“i believe you meant serve your personal interests.” you cut, with venom laced in your voice.

“he means in the interest of this family and you.” a frail voice pulled you out of your angered state and dragged into momentary shock.

your mother, frail and thin, stood at the entrance to your dressing room leaning over on her walking stick. the maid beside her stood like a cowering puppy that had been swatted away. even in her state of weakness, your mother still stood strong– one of the many qualities you inherited from her. her perseverance.

“mother,” you began, slowly rolling your next words over your tongue. “there has to be another way. we are influential and financially affluent enough to handle ourselves–“

“not enough to handle the imperial court.” your mother sighed as she slowly reached you. she raised her eyes to up to you, your form elevated by the pedestal and illuminated by the lights above you. in her eyes it seemed as though she had birthed an angel.

“so beautiful, dear child,” she smiled softly, running her hand up the waistline of your dress until her cold slender fingers held your cheek. “your father would have loved to see you in this. he used to fantasise about walking you down the aisle.”

“he’s not here anymore,” you whispered with cracks of grief slipping through your hardened tone. or was it hatred? hatred for the fact that he left you so young, or that his best friend married your mother almost weeks after? “and he doesn’t deserve to get that chance.” without looking, she knew who you meant.

your mother’s lips quivered into a straight line. she stepped back as her hand cold on your face fell to her side. “best you get your makeup done. you have the audience of the imperial court, the people of linkon, onychinus and that n109 zone. you must represent us well.”

to hear that struck you like an iron bullet. almost as painful as it would have been had you been killed last night. you were starting to wonder if you should have laid your blade to the ground. if being consumed and destroyed by a wanderer was better than giving up your hand to an intergalactic criminal.

“you will not walk by my arm.” you hissed to your stepfather. “i’d rather dig up my father’s corpse than let you get that chance.” you hiked up your gown and stormed off into the adjacent room where the stylists had prepared the makeup for you.

the rest of the process was quiet. the stylists whispered their condolences to you, mentioning tips to help you survive should your life be threatened, some others suggesting your husband-to-be may not be as cruel as rumour says.

your fears were etched into your face so much so that not even the prospect of being away from your family could console it.

the stylists had dispersed for your family priestess to bless your body. the back of your wedding gown was deliberately left open for your family crest to be inscribed onto your skin temporarily. it was an olden tradition that dated back to the ages where evols had not become more common amongst humans and the sole equivalent was sorcery.

some of the wealthier families stemmed from old sorcerers and practitioners of ancestral magic, protecting themselves through their family crests and watchwords. talismans, charms, sigils, spells, runes, the titles would vary amongst cultures but their meaning remained the same.

protection. strength. power. a call to war. they would be granted regardless of the method.

the needle was hot on your flesh and the scent of your skin burning made of your body twitch in discomfort. the priestess, adorned in her traditional garb designed to cover her entire body, tutted at you.

“remain still.” she dragged the hot needle down your spine, finalising the process of your marking. “it will fade in a few hours. but the magic stay intact for as long as you allow it.”

you slowly stretched, feeling the stiffening pain growing on you. you swallowed the reel of profanities threatening to roll of your tongue as you turned to the priestess who was packing away her supplies.

“you were trained to fight wanderers, and honour our family like your predecessors. my predecessors.” you rushed to her and tightly held her hands. your options were slipping out of your hand like sand, making you more desperate than before. “cousin, i know of the faction that trained you– that hunters association. and you know i’m more than capable to be within your rank. take me with you.”

you could almost hear her smiling in pity. she pulled her hands away and slowly stepped back. “my destiny is tied to my position. yours is much different and much more broad.” as she turned her back to you, she placed a small coin on the dressing table. “you will do far better once you marry the dragon concealed as a crow. best of luck, little cousin.”

and alone you remained to float within your thoughts. your destiny was broader than hers? the only thing you could envision was the potential torture you’d go through once the ties were sealed. there was not much left for you to do.

the burning sting of the crest carved onto your back had run cold, a searing tingle burst through your back like gentle sparks indicating the talisman was now active. and always would be.

the bells snapped you out of your daze, ringing away the last of your freedom– or perhaps the last of your captivity. your mother and stepfather walked you to event hall of your mansion, where everyone awaited you. your mother gently kissed your forehead, whispering you luck and reminding you to maintain composure.

the large double doors swung open and melodic music silenced the crowd before you. row by row, they all rose to their feet acknowledging you more than your family behind you. perhaps it was the dress, or that you possibly held the expression of wanting to run. the last person to turn around met your gaze with his crimson eyes.

sylus.

the very sylus, leader of onychinus, fearsome conqueror of planets, was dressed in a fitted white suit stricken with embroidered red crows. a small brooch was pinned on his blazer, the ruby in the centre sparkled under the light. his eyes scanned you briefly before he adjusted his stance, silently reminding you to walk.

you deeply inhaled and stepped forward, deliberately moving as slowly as you could to scan each present guest in the hall. dignitaries from neighbouring planets, a large group of guests dressed in red and black including some wearing masks, distant family members and friends amongst the people of linkon, and most surprisingly four counsellors of the imperial court. you had expected less.

whispers broke out behind you as the insignia etched onto your back was clearly visible. you slowly realised that it wasn’t just a protection charm for you. you carried the burning torch telling your family’s enemies to remain in their place, that you were no longer weaker than them. you decided to assign it as a call to war against your own parents– cursing them for sending you off like this.

that would explain the secret meetings over the last few months. your marriage was a deal to grant your family protection. and judging by the satisfied look on one of the imperial counsellor’s face, they also had a chip in the transaction. control? access to weapons and intel?

but there was nothing that caught your attention more than the man standing patiently before you. for someone so menacing, he looked divine. god-sculpted face and damningly soft lips. his white hair looked as soft as a kitten’s fur. he was so tall and muscular. so beautiful too. you almost released your tension just from the sight of him.

he reached his hand out to help you step onto the pedestal to join him and the officiator. as you stood next to him, while feeling underwhelmingly short despite wearing heels, you caught a whiff of his scent. it was a bit too familiar, almost like burnt herbs and spices.

the officiator droned on about the beauties and responsibilities that came with marriage and how the union would connect our societies more than ever. you watched him glance to your left around the same area where your parents and the imperial counsellors sat. so he was in on the stunt too. maybe not a direct beneficiary, but all rivers end up in the ocean one way or another.

“you’re observant,” the rumbles of his voice sent shivers down your spine. another thing about him that was all too familiar. “good.”

you did not respond to his comment. a young girl skipped towards the two of you, cautiously holding a white cushion holding two rings; both encrusted with rubies and diamonds but one had a larger gem in the centre.

sylus picked the ring with the larger diamond and turned to you. he recited his vows to you, swearing his loyalty and endless care for you, among the many traditional vows a husband would make to his wife. his crimson eyes held firm on yours with a serious stare, meaning every single world– though that was the first time you met.

“you look rather calm to be marrying the douchebag that broke your protocore,” he muttered as his fingers caressed your hand before slipping the encrusted ring on you. the realisation slowly dawned upon you like the rising sun shining directly in your face. “don’t gawk, you’ll make a spectacle.”

you quickly relaxed and took his ring from the bearer to exchange the gesture. “so it was you last night.”

his hand was large and yet well cared for and almost scarless despite his endless battles. you recited your vows, similar to his and returned his gesture, though you couldn’t guarantee that you wouldn’t try to kill him in his sleep. if he did sleep. you slipping the ring onto his finger with more cruelty than intended, inducing a pained smirk from his lips.

“definitely a douchebag.”

the officiator, after another round of praises and ramblings of loyalty and union, asked if anyone opposed the union. you had hoped someone, anyone would say something. but the silence was clear and loud. you raised your head high, concealing the slither of disappointment– no, fury brewing within you.

“then through the powers bestowed upon me, i pronounce thee husband and wife. you may seal the union.”

you could feel your heart sink. you had to kiss him. kiss a renown intergalactic criminal, kiss those soft lips, kiss yourself into a marriage you likely wouldn’t leave by choice. those soft pink lips–

he was smirking at you. smirking! as if he read your mind– can he?

his hands, warm and gentle, cupped your cheeks as he leaned towards you.

“may i?” your words were held in your throat from the shock, making you to nod.

he closed the gap between you and the world temporarily fell silent. his lips were really soft. like, plump and so cushiony. he was gentle with the kiss, almost like you were his lifelong lover whom he relished, and kept it brief but long enough to illicit excited giggles from the young girls within the crowd. as you leaned away, your audience burst into a round of applause, standing to congratulate the sealing of your marriage. the finalisation of a deal made behind the curtains.

it didn’t feel like sparks bursting, not that you expected it to, but it felt surprisingly warm. homely and comfortable. like it was just you and him that mattered. which was a weird feeling. but you didn’t dislike it.

and in the deafening round of applause, in celebration, relief, envy, and pity, your eyes did not leave your stepfather’s. your mind did not leave the thought of screaming until your lungs shrivelled, as if your body wanted to do it itself.

it did not leave the desire to claw the life out of his throat.

“i can kill them all if you’d like,” sylus whispered, glancing down at you as you left the hall to enter another for the reception.

“excuse me?”

“you look unhappy,” he adjusted his tie, giving you a clearer view of his hands. the same hands that took down the wanderer last night. those veiny, strong hands– “about your current… position. so we can kill them all now, obviously excluding the children, then annul the marriage. would you like that?”

“wait, wait,” you paused in your steps. he just offered to murder every guest present then annul your marriage. he was giving you an open door to living your own life. but why? “isn’t this what you wanted? this marriage?”

“it was a necessary agreement,” he slowly spoke, carefully choosing his words. “there were many other ways to conduct a deal with your parents and the imperial court but those would have required more precision and time to handle. however, forcing your hand in something you don’t like isn’t right. i don’t mind ending this union between us once the time requisite passes– it’s a year, isn’t it?”

you were stunned, but still managed to muster a nod. he was so polite and colloquial. he kept a healthy distance from you to not make you too uncomfortable but kept close enough not to catch the suspicious eyes of the guests.

“if that is what you want then by all means,” he smirked as he paused, his right eye glimmered for a second. “though i can’t guarantee you’ll want to by that point.”

sylus’ hand remained on your person throughout the more festive side of the wedding, either on your hand or your shoulder, or your waist while his thumb rubbed up and down the bare skin of your back.

watching him whisper to foreign dignitaries just loud enough for you to hear, shaking hands with members of the imperial court while ensuring you were fully acknowledged with respect, his occasional check-ins with you to ensure you were fine throughout– that wasn’t what you had expected of the fearsome leader of onychinus.

his present ‘crows’ were all introduced to you, pledges and vows were made to your name to serve you with integrity, leaving you slightly confused as they only referred to you by your first name or ‘missus’ or ‘mrs boss’– specifically by two younger men wearing crow-like masks.

“do you not have a last name?” you whispered to sylus as the next group of pitiful, arrogant, or opportunistic guests began to flock towards you after the last.

“is it needed?” you shrugged and sighed, rolling your shoulders back to prepare for the fake smiles coming to you like a hurricane.

“i guess not, especially when you’re a planet conqueror.”

sylus softly hummed and took your hand, briefly walking away from the crowd before you. he guided you towards the entrance of the hall, attracting the attention of the guests you quickly moved past.

“what are you doing?” you hissed, subtly flicking the hand holding yours as you glanced over your shoulder. sylus briefly stopped and gently hooked your arm over his, which was surprisingly rather comfortable.

“i won’t let my wife tire herself out,” he said, glancing down at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “don’t worry about the maggots behind you. they’ll likely assume we are too excited to wait for the night.”

right. you had almost forgotten about that old tradition of consummating marriages. it was an outdated practice by general standards, but some of the wealthier clans and families still found it necessary to lock the marriage in place. you were surprised he believed in that, considering his line of business.

“i’ve never understood the practice honestly,” he tutted. “let couples do as they please at their own pace.” perhaps you were wrong about him.

his crows began to depart one by one, stopping to either nod, give you a look of respect, or even hug you wishing their welcomes to you. the two crow mask wearing young men nudged each other before they handed you a bouquet of blood red roses.

“your first wedding gift from the bossman!” the one with a deeper voice said. you could tell they had meant sylus. you accepted the roses and gave him a questioning side glance.

“would you have preferred receiving it during the ceremony?”

he guided you out of the hall to the main entrance of the estate. a crow– with ruby eyes and adorned with mechanical alterations especially to its wings– landed on sylus’ shoulder as you stepped outside. a very expensive looking luxury car awaited you. along with your parents.

your mother hobbled towards you with her cane, holding her hand out to hold you one last time. you instinctively leaned into her touch and pulled her into your embrace. a wave of emotion washed over you brimming tears in your eyes.

your mother slowly stepped away from you, reluctant to let go of your hand. her sharp gaze averted to sylus who silently watched your stepfather throughout the interaction.

“keep my child safe. and alive.” he only gave her a nod. it became clear that your time was up for your old life. the transfer was complete and what happened next was up to you to brave with courage.

you gave your mother a final hug, requesting for her to take care of herself and that you would visit whenever you got the chance– both of you knew you never would.

as the vehicle pulled out of the main driveway with sylus at the wheel and you on the passenger seat, you heard your stepfather wishing you godspeed. it took more than balling your hands into fists to stop yourself from jumping out of the car and decapitating him with your hands.

the drive was mostly silent. the roof the car was opened to allow the wind to brush through your hair. a few black cars drove by your side for several minutes before branching off to different locations until the two of you were isolated on a road leading to the outskirts of linkon city.

you weren’t too sure on how to begin conversation with him– your… husband. even thinking about it felt unnatural. the car slowly picked up more speed until passing vehicles flashed by in less than a second.

the exhilarating thrill of the speed reminded you of your horse and how you would often go riding at night to experience a sense of thrill to dispel your anger or disappointment. you had gone for a morning ride before preparing for the wedding, too afraid to say goodbye as your horse was the one thing– outside your mother– that you weren’t willing to let go of. like a man with a dog, you and your horse were true companions.

“you did well,” his voice almost made you jump in your seat. you turned to him with a look of slight agitation, watching him concentrate on the road.

“oh sure, you would definitely be proud.” you scoffed, voice heavily laced with sarcasm.

“it’s good that you’re not ignorant,” he continued as if you didn’t say anything, making your eye twitch. “keeping an eye on every guest there to understand their intentions behind their presence and discerning between those who cared and those who benefitted from your- our marriage… that was admirably smart.”

your eyes narrowed. he was being painfully meticulous with his words but it also seemed effortless. you felt warmed by the praise, the acknowledgement of you putting your knowledge to good use. the crow cawed at you in what you assumed was anger.

“is this your pet?” you bit at the bird, making it flutter its wings and caw even more. sylus’ grinned as the car drove into a more isolated road.

“mephisto,” he said as the crow hopped off his shoulder and flew ahead of the car. “i don’t consider him as a pet– more like a confidant.”

mephisto cawed at you once more before flying off of sylus’ shoulders to speed ahead towards a large estate. the mansion looked absolutely marvelous, with its aged designs and well maintained grounds. it was slightly larger than your family’s estate with the lengthy driveway, the magnificent fountain at the main entrance and the overall quietness of the space.

a dozen uniformed staff quietly moved boxes of what you recognised as your personal belongings into the mansion through what you assumed was the side entrance, stopping to bow in the presence of their employer.

one of them jogged to the car to greet sylus, not forgetting to acknowledge your presence, and announced that the staff would vacate to their quarters once your belongings were placed inside.

the interior was just as bourgeois as the outside. the main sitting area was dark, red and black with hints of rusted gold to be specific, covered with vintage furniture and collections of rare assets. you recognised a few of the paintings on the walls as prized works of classic creators. sylus was a creator.

towards the couches in the living area sat a bundle of neatly wrapped gifts in varying shapes and sizes. a few of the ones you picked were there as well. one of the many gifts that sat on the pile was the box of alcohol similar to the wine bottle in your hand.

“cherry wine,” sylus appeared next to you in complete silence, making you jump on the spot. “i love the scent of it.”

he poured you a glass and slid it to you before preparing his own. it smelled deliciously sweet to the point where you couldn’t tell if it was actually alcoholic. as the wine coated your lips, the sweetness was the first thing for you to sense. it was like drinking liquid sweets in the most erotic way possible. no wonder the term ‘pop the cherry’ was said when drinking that. the engulfing burn of the alcohol ran down your throat just as you swallowed.

your tolerance for alcohol was reasonably strong– strong enough to have at least three glasses of the wine before you began to act differently. sylus, on the other hand, was already in a bit of a blush. he wasn’t near finished with his first glass.

“i didn’t take you for the type that can’t stomach drinks,” you commented as you poured yourself another glass. something about that intoxicating sweetness just had you thirsting for more. you were heating up under the confines of your wedding dress with it pooling close to your core.

sylus chuckled with a hint of nerve. “i don’t have the tolerance for it,” he admitted as he took another leisurely sniff of the drink. “and my sense of taste is somewhat dull, so i appreciate the smell more than what i consume.” he swirled the crimson beverage in the crystal glass, admiring the gloss of it under the warm lights above you.

he glanced at the ring on your finger. “it looks good on you. i had feared that you would not like it.”

you followed his gaze, watching the light reflect on the crystals making them shine like water under the moonlight.

“and you looked marvellous in that dress, as tattered as it was.” he was talking about the previous night. before you got roughhoused by those wanderers, the dress was rather beautiful and formfitting for you– dashed with gold and black jewels to complement the ruby red colour of your attire. you didn’t think he had noticed.

you could feel his gaze peeling you open layer by layer, increasing the bubbling heat within you. the alcohol must have been quite strong since it was rare for you to get so fuzzy so quickly. he was probably going to ramble more if you didn’t change the subject.

“do you live here?” you asked, turning away to look around the living room. your torso still felt so tight and constricted. “it looks untouched.”

your fingers fumbled to remove your necklace, struggling to get a good grip of the clasp– partially because you were flustered and that you the dress was designed in such a way that you couldn’t vigorously move around.

sylus moved behind you and moved your hands to your sides with an uncharacteristic amount of gentleness. this kindness was still something you were suspicious of. for a conquerer to be so kind to you felt weird.

“it’s a temporary stop before we get to the n109 zone,” he helped you remove your necklace, his fingers slowly travelled up your neck to unclasp it. “we can stay however long you need if you’re not ready to go.”

you instinctively leaned into his touch, feeling the heat of his hand spread across your skin. his patience and care was something you greatly appreciated– so much so that it gradually lowered your guard.

from the wedding to the tedious reception to that very moment, his behaviour went completely against the rumours that spread tainting his name. the same rumours that instilled fear amongst your peers. even when he stepped in to help you in battle the previous night, he wasn’t cruel– not with you at least.

“what were you doing in linkon yesterday?” you asked as sylus placed the necklace on the couch. he took your hand, silently indicating his desire to walk with you.

“confirming a few deals with the hunters association,” the hallway was wide and covered with pillars of withered plants and old paintings. although it looked meticulously clean it was still so void of life. “i needed to maintain my influence with my associates working there. i believe one of them are distantly related to you. she said you have a habit of chasing wanderers.”

then that was what she meant about your destiny. she knew about the deal too. a flash of disappointment in your face caught his ever so watchful eye.

“don’t blame her for this arrangement. she didn’t know better.” he rubbed your hand with his thumb and tugged you into the dining hall, embroidered with expensive carpets, couches and a fireplace on and by the floor, exotic plants on the corners of the large room and large windows overlooking the extensive grounds of the estate, coloured orange from the setting sun.

your skin was painted in a warm gold colour along with his, kissed by the light shining into the dark room. the faint tipsy blush on sylus’ cheeks had gradually darkened as he looked at you, fully taking you in.

the way your dress hugged your body and accentuated your beauty, the soft amount of makeup on your face that amplified your natural appearance, and your relentless energy in how you spoke and moved had set his mind in a bit of a frenzy. even when you gave him that confused look you were just so pretty.

so pretty.

so beautiful.

so attractive.

heat flowed through his veins in rapid flashes, more than he could comprehend. it wasn’t similar to what he normally experienced whenever he was intoxicated. his hand left your grip to tug down on his tie that tightened around his neck, feeling as though he was suffocating.

his vision began to haze slightly, almost as though he was blinded by a wave of a familiar yet enhanced sensation– a magnified feeling.

lust.

“sylus?” his large hand hit the wall to maintain his balance. you almost called out for the staff to help but you quickly remembered they were all likely gone.

“are you alright?” your eyes blurred in a daze, your body fuzzed from the heat surrounding you and the incessant throbbing and swelling feeling of arousal spreading around you. sylus leaned on the wall, covering his eyes with his hand, the other quickly rushing down his abdomen to his crotch where a very large bulge pressed against the fabric of his pants.

oh. oh.

this was far from noble. both of you were basically clawing at your clothing, disheveled with the heat of pure desire– that had to be what it was. and for some reason, the muscles on his arms bulging through his tailored suit became more prominent than it was throughout the entire day.

just what could have caused a flash of this to happen out of nowhere?

then it clicked. the wine. that damned wine. did someone send it to you to spike you? the speculation made you pause to think. if someone wanted you and sylus dead, why would they send over a crate of cherry wine that has rendered you both insufferably hot–

“cherries, sylus, cherries are aphrodisiacs.” you groaned, holding your face in your hands. you just knew it that recommendation had no pure intent behind it.

“not strong ones,” sylus muttered, his back turned to you. though you could clearly see his ears were flushed red. “unless there’s another component in there– damn it, did you taste pomegranate?”

you did but it wasn’t that strong over the sweetness of the cherries. but you remembered someone mentioning (back in your clubbing days) that there are variants of the wine that have stronger effects– one of them being an aggressive aphrodisiac.

the air was thick, your breaths were heavy, the distance between you was less than a few steps away and ethically speaking it should have been much further than that. and yet– and yet you didn’t want to be any further from him.

you wanted to help him and yourself. through the clearest means possible.

“we need to fuck our way through this.” sylus whipped his head to you, almost bewildered by your brash approach. “only if you’re willing.”

“i am,” his chest rose and fell heavily, beads of sweat began to form on his forehead, damping that soft, cloud white hair of his. “but i worry if you are willing to do it. there are other ways we can handle this without going as far as intercourse–“

“what, masturbate in separate rooms?” you scoffed. you hissed in a breath, tugging down at your dress in a sore attempt to breathe more. “i don’t think i’d be able to get off if i can’t see you.” that part came out in a loud whisper which didn’t go deaf to his ears.

“oh sweetie,” that same infuriating yet charming smirk tugged at his plump, soft– fuck. “you think i’m attractive?”

“wasn’t that obvious?” you panted and tugged at your neckline. “gods, i need this dress off.”

a gust of energy pulled you towards sylus until you were fully in his embrace. his head was dipped into your neck, lips so close to your skin. if this was his attempt to help relieve your mutual tension it definitely wasn’t working.

“perhaps i can take it off,” his hands traveled to the back of your neck and the small of your back, searing your nerves just with his touch. “your desire has changed to that of wanting something. someone. should this someone step in?”

oh that ass– you knew exactly what he wanted you to say. you weren’t going to give him that satisfaction. not by a long shot.

“maybe a kiss will suffice,” you mentally slapped your forehead. a kiss will suffice? your flirtation skills must have turned into pure mush. it was probably his face. handsome, divine, damned face!

and to your internal relief and joy he dutifully complied, engulfing you in his touch. just like the first kiss you shared, he was so gentle but this time you could sense he was holding back. though, admittedly, so were you. your hands stroked his hair, occasionally tugging at those soft tufts. a low groan erupted into your mouth accompanied with a harsh tut.

“my dear wife,” his voice had dropped an octave, rumbling straight down to your core which had already started to pool with arousal. something about him calling you that felt good. really good. “we are dangerously dangling over this cliff. are you sure you want to take the dive?”

you pecked his lips, giddy from the kiss. “let’s hope you can swim.”

your hands swarmed all over each other as the kiss intensified with each beat of your heart. in intervaled tugs and pulls and breaths between the kisses, your shoes both were kicked off, then his tie fell to the floor, then his blazer, then his dress shirt, exposing his torso to your hungry eyes.

he expertly unbuttoned your dress at its collar and paused waiting for your permission to proceed. you quickly nodded and assisted him by tugging down the front of the dress, revealing your torso both bare and sparkling from the glitter sprayed onto your dress.

sylus eyed you with an indecipherable look all while feeling his way down to your hips so slowly with his large hands, tracing his fingers over the outline of your breasts and the sides of your waist. he was admiring you.

his eyes fluttered shut as a shaky whine left his lips. within the closed space between your heated bodies, his hips managed to jut to yours reminding you of his throbbing length trapped within the confines of his clothing.

you leaned back, widened eyes peering into his burning crimson gaze. a quiet bond had formed between you in seconds and the instant understanding had been made transparently clear. he took your hands– which were not surprisingly smaller than his own– until they cupped his erection. sylus’ hands swiftly touched the zipper below the back opening of your dress and tugged it straight down.

“my patience is wearing thin, sweetie,” his lips tickled the shell of your ear. “i don’t know how much more i can hold back with you this close to me.”

you wasted no time in tugging down his pants along with his briefs allowing his cock to spring free, slapping your skin with precum almost spurting from his reddened tip. that alone was enough to have you soaked.

it was so hot and heavy, and long and thick, thick enough for you to question if your hand could wrap around it let alone your poor pussy, who was shamelessly leaking even more while sylus slid your dress and your lacy underwear down to the floor.

“i wanted to rip that off.”

“what?”

“what?” with a scoff, you pushed him back with a singular finger to his chest and stepped away from the abandoned dress on the floor to get a better look of your husband confidently standing before you.

you’re mentally fanning yourself at the sight, shamelessly thinking of all the profanities you can conjure and all the dirtiest images involving the two of you. those thoughts must have been made under the influence of the wine. right?

“you like?” sylus grinned, watching you relentless stare at his body. his well-built, muscular body. god-sculpted and revered– fuck, you were in too deep.

“don’t get cocky.” you huffed, feeling your face warm for the nth time that night. that dress was getting a bit too tight on you. you tugged at the opening at your back to force more airflow around your skin but nothing was working. prickles of sensitivity brought you to a shiver, the slightest movement from your legs was stimulating pleasure to the power of a thousand.

you almost pounced on him. almost. but you maintained composure. you straightened your posture and moved to the dining table, pushing away the plates and cutlery in your way to free up the corner. fortunately it was short enough to stand between.

sylus followed in suit, standing at the opposite end of the table at the shorter side to not be too far from you. his hands wandered all over his body, stroking and pinching at his skin to tease himself– and you.

“i know what you’re doing, sylus.”

“i know what you’re doing, sweetie,” his hand eventually found his cock, ghosting his touch over his sensitive length. you watched him bite his lips, watched him intentionally raise the stakes in the little game you were playing together.

you were going to go all in. you leaned into the corner of the table, connecting your needy wetness to its new source of pleasure.

sharp jolts ran up your spine from your clit rubbing against the corner of the table. you paused, slowly repeating the movement until you relaxed into the position too needy to stop. your hand flew to your mouth to muffle the impeding moans just begging to roll off your tongue.

across the table, he watched you in a daze while lazily pumping at his cock. his fist squeezed around the base, making the veins running up his shaft more prominent, and stroked up until his angry red tip disappeared within his hand. a gentle plap! rhythm accompanied the classical music in the background as he picked up a reasonable pace.

his fingers danced around his tip rubbing back and forth on the slit that dribbled out precum like a leaky tap– soft moans were being pulled out of his lips as he teased his body, he caressed his chest and ultimately tortured himself, all while intently watching your pretty, squished breats bounce between your arms as your hips began to rut against the table.

he must have been doing all of that on purpose.

your knuckles paled as your grip on the table strengthened, so desperate to have something inside your weeping pussy that you almost stuffed your fingers as far as they’d be able to go. but alas, you knew they weren’t capable of satiating what you needed. you dropped your head to concentrate– to go just a bit harder–

“uh-uh, kitten,” you could just hear him smiling. kitten. a jolt shot straight down to your core. you could just feel your slick begin to drip down your legs, and judging by the reckless pump of blood flow your lips must swollen from all that need. “look at me.”

nope, you weren’t planning on doing that. not while you were getting closer to your climax. the angle you had found was just perfect, hitting the bud of your swollen clit and rubbing at the sensitive nerves surrounding at. you could just hear the squelches from your wetness leaking onto the table and dripping down in small, sticky droplets.

you raised your head slightly, panting out a desperate moan, eyes hazed with arousal and need only to find sylus not where he was originally standing. your breath hitched, instantly feeling his overwhelming presence behind you. how did he get there so fast?

his lips found the back of your neck, still well exposed despite the neatness of your styled hair falling apart. his hands settled on your waist, holding you in place as kissed down your spine and around the fading remnants of the insignia painted onto your back.

“how about i help you a bit?” he murmured and licked his way up your spine until his hot, wet tongue found the shell of your ear. “would you like that?”

too breathless to speak, you nodded.

“use your words, sweetie.” he whispered and pecked your jaw. his hardened cock lightly grazed the curve of your ass. “this only works if you tell me you want it.”

“oh fuck you.”

“that’s not what i’m looking for.” he teasingly presses himself against you, rubbing himself up and down, nestling his cock between your lower cheeks. “tell me what you want.”

he was so close yet so damn far, and his teasing wasn’t helping at all. “you.” you choked.

“hmm?”

“damn you, i need your help!” you blabbered while your body instinctively pushed back to be closer to him. “i want your help and i want you– now, help me!”

sylus hummed in approval, lowering his hands to your hips. “yes ma’am.”

your legs were beginning to ache from your endless grinding to satisfy your insatiable desire, bringing you to a tremble. sylus’ presence had briefly left you until he returned with his hands on the back of your thighs and warm air fanning your pussy.

“absolutely soaked,” he commented in astonishment, pressing a wet peck on your thigh, intentionally making you feel how far he is from where he’s supposed to be. you groaned, bucking back in urgency.

“stop teasing!”

“oh?” he pressed another kiss on your other thigh, intentionally increasing the distance. “i thought enjoyed my brattiness, kitten. are you going to threaten me with your claws?”

you stopped moving to give him a glare. “sylus–“

“no, continue what you were doing. i’ll take care of this little mess right…” his fingers rubbed your entrance, spreading your wetness down to your thighs. “here.”

oh yes. his hands were perfect.

they did so much more to you than your own ever could. you slowly rocked your hips against the desk to return your wavering attention to your needy bud. the double stimulation from his fingers gradually going deeper inside you and your clit being abused by a bloody inanimate object– you could just feel yourself reaching your limit.

his fingers explored your weeping pussy without restraint, curving and curling in you to find exactly what made you tick, twitch, and tingle. his lips caressed your bare lower cheeks, making your pant more and more until a sharp sting threw you off your daze. it was a bite. he bit you.

“did you just bite my ass–“

“yeah, what about it?”

you scoffed in disbelief, muttering that you’d stop him from biting your ass and pushed his head back to devour your soaking cunt. sylus grunted in surprise but wasted no time to get to work, resting his hands on your ass to give his tongue more access to you.

you heard of tongue-fucking as a concept but you never understood how good it felt– not until now. feeling him smoothly curl and curve that wet muscle inside you so effortlessly had you in a messy daze. your nails clawed into his hair, keeping him in place to continue with his gentle yet persistent ministrations.

“s-sylus,” you moaned, moving faster and faster to chase your impending high, keeping him close to you to ensure he followed your flow. “oh, fuck, sylus!”

“mm– so profane.” his voice was muffled against you, his tongue swirled around your entrance before slipping back inside. the vibrations of his moans rumbled through you almost triggering you to tip off the edge. that familiar plap! plap! rhythm sounded beneath you, accompanying his choked noises.

you pushed his head back to face him, and you were shockingly pleased.

your dangerous husband was on his knees with his hand shamelessly tending to his abandoned, flushed cock, jutting his hips to simulate what it could feel deep inside you. the experience of having his fingers and tongue in you alone was more than enough to set him off.

now he just needed to have you in every position humanely possible.

“need some help?” you grinned in a mocking tone, slowly kneeling before him. sylus’ face was as red as the cherry wine, his broad, muscular chest glistened in a layer of sweat that dripped down the lines of his abdomen until it was lost within the trimmed, white tufts of the hairs surrounding his cock. you just couldn’t take your eyes off him. you didn’t want to.

“please,” it didn’t even take you teasing for him to give in. sylus leaned forward, hand still working his raging cock, and rested his head against yours.

“i need you,” you watched his cock twitch in his hands, slowly beginning to salivate. damn, those aphrodisiacs were strong. you had never felt that aroused before. never felt such a strong desire to take him in your mouth.

“i have an idea,” you whispered, pecking the corner of his lips. he whimpered from the mere contact, leaning into you more to reach your lips. “if you’ll let me.”

“anything, kitten,” he pressed a desperate kiss on your lips. then another. “anything.”

what he didn’t anticipate from you was that you’d immediately go down on him, moving his hands up and swiping your tongue around his cock in an instant. he sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes. what a seductress you were.

from the way you walked down the alter to him, to your joy and serenity on horseback, to that very moment with you bent down lubricating him with your tongue, kissing his leaking cockhead with your pretty lips.

you kissed your way up his shaft, long and heavy, testing how girthy he truly was with your hand– so thick you couldn’t wrap your hand around it fully. you took his tip in, getting a taste of his precum bursting into your mouth from a simple touch all while swirling your tongue over his slit.

his groans vibrated onto your tongue as it lapped up more drops of his precum at debilitatingly slow pace. lick, lick, lick like a kitten drinking milk. his shaft was not left alone, being delicately handled by your hands stroking up and down with gentle squeezes in intervals.

“squeeze– squeeze harder.” sylus panted. you raised your eyes to meet his piercing crimson gaze. a shot of tingles vibrated around your pussy, making you so much wetter. you obeyed without complaint, strengthening your grip on his cock with each stroke.

your head bobbed taking you further and further down his shaft until his leaky tip tapped the back of your mouth, right before the curve down your throat. you choked out a moan, feeling a tingle of tears burn the corners of your eyes. sylus quickly noticed and cradled your head, about to pull you out.

“are you alright?” from your angle he looked like such an adorable puppy, worried for you while his cock was stuffed in your mouth. you hummed, stroking his hand, and opened your jaw to take more of him. you took deep breaths through your nose slowly returning to your initial rhythm.

sylus watched his cock slowly disappear into your mouth until he was fully bottomed out in you. you were so warm and your throat was so tight around his length, so much so that you couldn’t help but gag every so often around his girth. the sounds of your chokes and gags filled the space along with the delicious sloppiness of your pretty mouth slurping around him.

“so pretty,” he huffed. the temptation to grip your head and guide you to go faster was getting stronger by the second. his knees ached from sitting in that position for so long but the pleasure was worth the pain. his hand instinctively pushed your further down into him and you responded so well by hollowing your cheeks, tightening your mouth around him as much as you could. his eyes rolled back as he moaned, your noises of pure pleasure reverberated in the air.

it was so wet and sloppy, creating a small puddle of precum and saliva from what dripped out of your mouth. you pulled your head back with a loud pop! with your tongue out, letting all the slickness drip down to his tip. sylus groaned in an attempt to hold back whatever profanities brewed in him.

your face was drenched from the tip of your nose down beyond your chin. sylus breathing was heavy, chest heaving, face fully flushed. his lips opened to speak but he was rendered speechless. his lips rushed onto your neck, licking up the slick wetness until his lips found yours.

like how you worked his cock, the kiss was wet, sloppy, lustfully passionate and boiling with your mutual greed to consume each other. your tongues swirled and collided, teeth occasionally clashing as well in reckless pursuit of remaining as close as possible.

he pulled you onto his lap, cock still rock hard and flush against your abdomen, rubbing against your flesh, making him shiver from the stimulation. the buzz from the aphrodisiac was still strong, coursing through him as quickly as his pulse.

“need to be in you,” he moaned against you lips in a rough plea. “need to feel you.”

your inhibitions were right out the window. all you could think of was the thought of you two sickeningly together, divinely united, fucking consummating the damn marriage just so you could fully feel him. “need you inside, sy,”

like hearing an instant buzzword sylus immediately acted on your word, picking you up and moving you towards the carpet by the fireplace. he rested your head on the larger pillow while pressing his lips down your body, whispering his praises.

his lips found your hand and kissed each knuckle. “thank you for accepting me despite our rough first impression.” he kissed you up your arm all the way to your collarbones, nipping your flesh then licking you as an apology.

“want to make you feel so good,” he suckled on your skin as his hands fondled your breasts, thumbs circling your pebbled nipples making your back arch. he gently tugged on your hardened bud with his teeth and switched to the other, lathering it with his tongue and leaving harsh bruises behind.

“want to be yours,” his lips slowly travelled back up your neck, suckling small bruises and biting his mark onto your skin.

“you are, genuis.” you huffed, wiggling your finger holding the bedazzled ring. sylus glanced at it with a look of great admiration, enamoured by how it looked in your hand. how you wore it so confidently.

“legally,” his hands held your face and gave you a squish. “legally, but not of your own accord.”

you had to admit that he was correct. the marriage alone wasn’t something you would have agreed with. but you found him interesting within the last few hours where you got to speak to him. outside of your physical attraction to him you liked how his mind worked too.

“then let me make you mine.”

a look of surprise painted his face. you assured him with a smile. “let me claim you as mine. my husband. my friend. my partner.”

your lips found each other once more, dancing in pure passion and adoration as your bodies performed a more lewd waltz in grinds and strong grips on sensitive flesh. sylus adjusted himself, aligning his cock with your dripping entrance.

he gave you one more questioning look to which you responded with an affirmative nod, lacing your fingers between his. he rolled his hips against yours, gently bullying the tip of his cock into you until it disappeared past your swollen pussy lips. you felt so warm and so damn tight he struggled to keep what was left of his composure.

the sting of his sheer size and girth made you hiss and claw your fingers on his arm, gasping at the sheer buildup of pressure. sylus’ eyes were squeezed shut, brows furrowed, and lips parted allowing a melodic moan to flow into your ears.

somehow the feeling of him being inside you get you wetter than you could comprehend and your walls sucked him in, pulling his cock deeper into you until he was almost, almost bottomed out.

“i think she likes me,” he huffed, massaging your hips to soothe the sting.

“maybe.”

“definitely.” he slowly drew his hips back and thrusted forward with little restraint. the pain had disappeared with a fiery ignition replacing it. your gummy walls held onto his cock as it drew back and rushed into you again, creating a slick and wet noise between you as he gradually went faster.

your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist to lock him in place while your hands explored his back, smooth and rippled with his muscles tensing and relaxing with each gentle thrust. his lips peppered kisses and bites onto your neck, sucking harsh bruises into your skin as a substitution for the pent up desire he was desperately trying to hold back.

your name was rambled into the air in seething moans as if he was almost pained to have to restrain himself. to not harm you in pursuit of pleasing you. and then you tugged his hair. and gave him that look.

“stop holding back sy,” you whispered and pecked the corner of his lip. you were feeling a bit too greedy. “let’s give in.”

something must have snapped in him. a switch must have flipped because you saw a completely different look in his eyes in the exact second you felt his cock fit inside you entirely, fully bottoming out in you. your eyes rolled back from the sheer quick force of it, choking out a cry.

he wasn’t merciful either with his pace gradually picking up to the point where your skin slapped against his every time your hips collided until a wet clapping rhythm echoed across the dining hall alongside your joint noises.

your hands crept up to his back, finding comfort in rudely carving red lines into his skin without restraint. sylus’ melodic groans serenaded you into a haze that demanded more and more from him– more noise, more pleasure, just more.

sylus slowly sat up and glanced down to watch his cock disappear inside you then pull back out, glistening with your joint wetness to the point where it ran up his abdomen. the pillows propping you up gave you a slight view as well, a view so lewd that you almost hit your orgasm then and there.

“you are so– so tight, kitten.” sylus panted, pushing his damped hair back. his muscles were flexed, defining the sweat dripping down his body. you were almost certain you could ride his abs and get off just from that.

“you’re so big,” your eyes fluttered closed, too overwhelmed by him filling you up consistently. the pleasure alone was overwhelming. seeing him so disheveled because of you was so delightful.

your legs were pushed up against you before he leaned back down, his tip teasing your dripping entrance for painfully long seconds before pushing in entirely in a swift slam. your pussy stung with esctasy, your toes curled from the intensive swell of pleasure in the direct spot his tip brutally poked, your eyes crossed out of your control. just what did he do?

near shaking above you, sylus leaned into your touch, hypnotised– no, enamoured by you. he just wanted to stay buried so deeply inside you, privileged to be the only one to feel how your walls squeeze and flutter around him, to be able to explore what makes you tick and moan or scratch him in need, what would make you happy, what would anger you, he wanted it all.

he had it all. he had you. and he was gradually learning just how much he needed you.

“you’re so enchanting,” he half moaned-half laughed as he returned to his initial pace in that deeper angle. “so– gods– so powerful.” he watched your pretty face fall into a daze, lips spread apart for him to hear your voice crack with your cries. your bodies were so close that the friction of your sweat stricken skin no longer bothered either of you.

you could felt your limit approaching. all that stimulation and foreplay from earlier on top of the aphrodisiac’s influence was driving you insane. you pulled sylus’ head to yours, pressing your lips onto his desperate to consume him, desperate to ensure he knew how you felt so good with him. how you felt safe.

but fuck, you were going to explode. you were so painfully close and it looked like he was too.

it took a few more sharp thrusts before the thin string snapped, throwing you into a whole new realm of bliss. a loud cry escaped you, followed by a soft whimper from the man above you before you both crumbled in the cloud of intoxicating sparks bursting.

your soaked walls fluttered as globs of sticky, hot cum filled you up, partially spurting out with each rough thrust. a string of curses filled the air from both of you due to the sheer deliciousness of the feeling.

hours– or, realistically speaking, minutes– must have passed while you panted, glistening in the afterglow of your erotic pursuit. despite the exhaustion, you somehow managed to soothe each other through soft caresses and massages in the areas where you gripped each other harder than intended.

sylus rested his head on your shoulder, kissing the parts of your neck that he could reach. you brought his hand to your lips and pecked each knuckle over and over again, blessing his ring finger with a particularly longer one.

“when the effects wear off, things will be a bit awkward.” sylus grumbled.

you hummed in agreement. but considering how far you had gone on your first– technically second– day of knowing one another, you could pretty much do anything.

“how about we start off as friends first and see where that goes?” you suggesting, lacing your fingers with his. your rings dazzled in the moonlight for to admire. “i mean, we’ve already achieved the marriage goal. and the consummation.”

his laugh vibrated onto your neck, further lulling you in to comfortable exhaustion. maybe a nice nap on the floor wouldn’t hurt.

sylus smiled a kiss onto your neck then your cheek, eyes twinkling with bliss and joy. “alright then, dearest wife who is also my new friend. let’s do that.”

in the mutual quiet, you both found yourselves admiring each other as the heat of your climax finally cooled down. and then the next wave of arousal quickly arrived. you definitely weren’t going to hold back this time.

“again.” you pressed a kiss on the corner of his lips.

“again?” he panted, almost in worry. you were insatiable.

“you can’t handle it?” you laughed in a teasing tone. within an instant you found yourself straddled on top of him– he must have turned you over with that inhumane strength– his cock quickly hardening again inside you.

“i was worried about you, sweetie,” he squeezed your nose with a playful grin before settling his large hands on your hips, rocking them back and forth. you could just feel his cum seeping out of you. “i hope you can keep up because we won’t be stopping till the sun rises.”

#✧.* thalwri #✧.* thalwri works #sylus x reader #sylus smut #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace x reader #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus

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hivemuthur · 4 months ago

Text

The Ugly Thing

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! smut, love confessions, D/S dynamics (if you squint or if you know what I'm talking about), pining, dom!viktor (but also not, if you squint, something something), Viktor-centric, AU college/university + modern era (again, you have to do some squinting for it to be relevant)

word count: 4,9K

summary: Yet another self-indulgent one-shot of Viktor and Reader. It's just an exploration. I want to believe this is erotica, but you tell me. Subspace/Domspace if you squint. Just squint, alright?

Cross-posted on AO3

—

Viktor was, at the very least, difficult. That was what he had called himself, and he relished the label, as it allowed him to be all things at once—sweet, shy, bold, cruel, smart, oblivious, observant. He walked through life making observations and turning his conclusions into actions, placing people exactly where he needed them, ensuring they couldn’t place him somewhere he didn’t want to be.

His relationships were fleeting moments of leniency—sometimes even kindness—offered only when he felt inclined. Occasionally, the kindness transpired twice, or three times, but never more, as the risk of forming a one- or double-sided attachment was undesirable. Viktor’s desires lay elsewhere, and in his pursuits, he indulged the weakness of the flesh while keeping his ultimate goal—recognition of his brilliant mind—crystal clear.

Always polite, so that nothing could hurt him. His armour of politeness and astute behaviour shielded him from the lingering hands that sought to cradle him through the night, from the tender offerings of morning coffee, and from the quiet intimacy of shared silences. Viktor didn’t crave these things. He made sure his politeness was cold, detached, and practised—a skill perfected to keep others at bay. There was no warmth in it, no invitation to linger.

From time to time, he indulged in fleeting encounters, moments where he allowed himself to surrender to the pull of human connection—physical, but never emotional. Emotional, but not lasting. It was a necessary recharge, a way to quiet the body’s demands, but he was always one step ahead. He ensured his partners understood that whatever fragile universe they built together in the night would dissolve with the first light of morning, leaving no trace beyond the cooling embers of his skin.

All that was left was being polite—a polite smile in the hallway, a pencil lent during a lecture, an elevator held for his perishable lover rushing to class. Their names never forgotten, but their warmth never wanted again.

Until you. Until you invaded his orbit and refused to be erased. Until you befriended Jayce, making it easy to keep meeting him, keep looking at him, keep exchanging amusements and something more than politeness—exchanging kindness. Until it turned out you were smart and driven and managed to scare him once or twice by pinning him with your joke.

Until he had slept with you, giving you his mediocre self—not the calculated, observant one, but the needy, touch-starved, pathetic one that moaned your name and groped you with begging hands. All during a completely unorchestrated evening in your dorm room, still half-clothed, just lustful and impatient. Just really fucking hungry in your mutual understanding, though you understood absolutely nothing. Oblivious to the ugly thing in him. Oblivious to the concept of boundaries. Oblivious to the need to protect yourself from prying eyes that might see the truth of what they were.

And the way you stared at him afterwards, gave your body a long stretch, and your limbs flopped back onto the mattress. And the way you said, “It’s ok if you want to go,” an understanding smile cracking across your face—yet you understood absolutely, utterly nothing. A way out he craved, but he wanted to carve it out for himself with his politeness, not with this—this knowing, wise look in your eyes that came from nowhere, because you knew nothing. He almost wanted to stay, just to spite you, but found himself only nodding, scrambling to his feet to fetch his brace and cane, and bidding you goodnight with a polite nod.

And the way you remained friendly. Not friendly—the way you two remained friends. The long nights spent in study groups, pulling straws to determine who was doomed to coffee duty, your head slumped in sleep on Jayce’s shoulder, his head resting on Mel’s. Your bare, cold feet stretched out, toes brushing against Viktor’s thigh, sending ice through his veins—and the way he didn’t mind. The way he contemplated cradling your feet in his palm, warming them against his better judgement.

The way your touch lingered on his arm when you grabbed him in the corridor to show him something funny on your phone. And the way the thing on your phone actually was funny—a picture of Jayce passed out in the library under a mountain of plastic cups balanced on his shoulders. The way his own laugh startled him, made his chest shake and his face lean in close to yours.

The way you would fall asleep in the common room, watching old horror films, your throat vulnerably exposed on his lap. And he just wanted to grab it, squeeze it tight, choke the confession out of you—that you lingered because you wanted more, because this friendship was unthinkable.

The way you got upset when he was mean, and the way he went out of his way to apologise with a childish, shit-eating grin. His arms reaching out for you, your palm pressing his face away in that same friendly gesture.

When he flushed his system with alcohol, all he could think about was fucking you senseless. And when your gaze lingered on him, burning all the way down into his ugly thing, you would ask what was on his mind, and he would say, “Physics.” And you would laugh his lie out.

The way, once, he gave you a lingering kiss on your doorstep and stopped himself. But seeing the question poised on the tip of your tongue, he sunk back in, turning the kiss into a sloppy, drunken mess, so you would be the one to push him away. A gentle pat on the shoulder, sending him off with the unspoken instruction to come back sober. And how he never came back for that.

All of this made him so fucking angry. His carefully mended self, constructed from sweetness, shyness, boldness, cruelty, wisdom, and oblivion, was crumbling under your pensive eyes—and the way you floated atop the pissed-off ocean of his mind.

And oh, he loathed himself on that evening, loathed the way his feet carried him to your room because he was feeling vaguely sad and distracted. He loathed his feet for doing so, loathed his finger for pressing the elevator button, loathed his knuckles for placing a quiet knock on your door. It was all so gross, so out of character, and he loathed it all.

And there you were, opening the door, your face full of dinner, hair messy, cheeks puffed out as you curled them into a closed-mouth grin and gave him a wave to come inside. A quiet “hi,” followed by a chuckle as you tried to swallow before chewing—and a cough when the gulp was too massive for your throat.

“Are you busy?” Viktor found himself blurting out, scanning the room. Your flatmate was gone for the weekend—her bed made, her shoes and coat missing. Observed, concluded. His eyes flicked over to the other bed: messy but cozy, notes scattered across it, a steaming cup on the bedside table, and a laptop propped in the leg area playing background noise. Studying, of course.

“I am always busy,” you grinned at him, your teeth bare and beautiful like the rest of you, as you dropped your dishes into the sink and put the kettle on. “Watching Dexter and studying. Do you want tea?”

“Maybe,” Viktor mused, biting his lip. He negotiated silently with himself, wondering what it was he hoped to find in this room that might sweeten his sour mood—and why his mood was sour in the first place. His hand wobbled on his cane, the traitorous thing, and he leaned against the doorframe to deflect, refusing to decide whether to step fully in or out.

“Okay, what’s gotten into you today?” you huffed, picking a mug you deemed suitable for him. Good Vibes Only, with a middle finger printed on the bottom of it, seemed fitting.

“Meaning?” Viktor cocked an innocent eyebrow, feeling the burn of your inquisitive gaze. Oh, to yank that lovely head by the neck and shove it between his legs, to ease the torment in his mind.

“This is the third time you’ve bothered me today. It’s the weekend. You usually work on the weekends. You’re being vague but resistant to probing. Did something happen?” The countdown of his sins, and it was only the count of one day. Nothing had happened, and that was the issue.

“I suppose I’m feeling… down?” He shrugged, the movement worn down, defeated. His brain ached, and he felt lonely. It had started to feel indecent to pursue others—and for that, you deserved a whack as well.

“Do you need a hug?” A mocking snort reached his ears. A long pause as the scales tipped between a ‘no’ and a ‘yes.’

“Yes.”

Another long pause, as you blinked and scanned him for any signs of a sham, your expression still uncertain. You had to make sure again. “Do you need a hug now?”

“No, in fifteen fucking minutes.” His undignified huff earned him a pair of raised eyebrows from you, and a remark already rolling off your tongue—but he cut it short. “Yes, now. Come here.” His head hung low, and only his hand made a beckoning gesture.

You smiled, disarmed by the black cat of Viktor, finally trying to scramble into your lap after months of teasing and playing around—head bumping and blinking at each other from afar. You walked up to him, your hands hesitant, as if this open display of need was unthinkable.

Before you could settle, Viktor snaked himself around you, his cane propped by the door, his frame bent and draped over you, leaning his body weight forward. It was the grabbiest, the neediest hug he had ever given—or that anyone had let him have. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, smashing his nose against your skin, and inhaled you deeply, through both mouth and nose.

His palms, open and wide, raked as much of your body in one go as they could. They slipped under your clothes, seeking the taut skin stretched across your back and shoulders. He wanted to go lower but could only squeeze.

You weren’t hugging him; he was hugging you. Caging you in his grip, controlling when the hug would end—and as far as he was concerned, not ever. You stilled under his touch, your hands resting obediently on his chest as he rubbed his face on yours, purring like a cat.

“Viktor?” Your voice was barely a whisper, bouncing off his mouth, an inch away from yours. “Would you like me to kiss you?” He sang his swan song in that moment, almost asking permission, granting you the illusion of control, the illusion of choice—when in truth, it was him silently begging for the kiss to happen.

“Would you like to kiss me?” Of course. A deflection. Nothing he wasn’t prepared for.

“I asked you first.” A cruel blow, almost childish. He pulled his face back a few inches to watch you wrestle with the indignity of the situation. The whine you tried to suppress at the loss of contact didn’t go unnoticed, and the snake in Viktor’s belly coiled its head up, smug and poised.

But then you did the thing he didn’t expect—twisting the serpent’s head off and tossing it aside with quiet defiance. You moved closer, nudging his chin with your cheek, your wide eyes pleading for his plea. His resolve shattered instantly.

He held you in place, his lips hovering just above yours. His whisper was longing, desperate. “Can I kiss you?”

A silent ‘yes.’ He only knew it was a ‘yes’ because he felt the movement of your lips on his—but he didn’t let you finish. He sank into your mouth with a disturbing, possessive urgency, pressing his tongue inside, licking your beautiful teeth, biting your beautiful skin.

He kept you locked in, pressing you down under the weight of his kiss. His mouth drooled into yours obscenely as he breathed heavily through his nose. It was the ugliest kiss he had ever given anyone—the ugliest anyone had ever taken from him. And yet, it was taken with such grace, such gratitude, that he wanted to give you everything else.

With inhuman strength, he pulled you both apart and placed his thumb on your lower lip, still glistening with his saliva. He traced it lazily, transfixed by the shimmering reflections on your skin. His heart swelled as he observed the redness blooming around the spots he had bitten. He wanted you bruised by his love—for everyone to see.

“What are you doing tonight?” Another plea, another promise, fell between you. Viktor cursed himself for being so open, so exposed. Because even though you knew nothing, you would understand this question.

“Watching Dexter and studying,” you said in an absent voice, your eyes following his, following the path of his thumb. The silence stretched between you, taut, until you felt the need to fill it. “Do you want to watch Dexter and study with me?”

“No.” The word escaped him in a croak, sung low and jagged, as if he had only just realised this wasn’t what he wanted at all. “Are you wet?” was all he wanted to know.

“What?” The word escaped you, surprised, almost appalled. Viktor braced himself for you to pull away, so he tightened his grip—but you didn’t. You just stared at him with those beautiful eyes on your beautiful face, your pupils dilating at the vulgar perversion of his question.

“I think you heard me. Are you wet right now?” He leaned in to whisper the filth into your ear, feeling his snake grow out a new head at the full-body shudder that went through you.

“What if I said no?” you asked shyly, your eyelashes brushing against his cheek.

“I would demand proof,” he murmured, holding the sides of your face as he poured his poison straight into your ear, his voice so quiet and rude that your eyes fluttered closed.

“What if I said yes?” You found some bravery in yourself, tracing your fingers along Viktor’s neck, just under the line of his hair. You smiled at the feeling of goosebumps rising under your fingertips. He couldn’t have this, of course.

“I would demand proof regardless,” he responded, his lips grazing the shell of your ear before licking it, slow and deliberate. He craned his head back to look at you. You appeared frightened and excited all at once, and if Viktor had no restraint, he would have run his fingers through your hair to soothe you. Instead, he placed a flat palm on your stomach, fingers pointing down, waiting for your permission.

He received a timid nod, but it wasn’t enough.

“Use your words.”

“You can check.” You closed your eyes and exhaled, as though allowing yourself to be judged for your crime. And as the crime was that of lust, Viktor, somewhere deep down, knew he didn’t really need proof, and that your punishment would be light. Because he didn’t truly want to punish you. He wanted to love you in an ugly way.

He slid his hand down, down beyond the waistband of your pants, down your lower belly straight to your womb, palming your cunt through the underwear and gasped, “Oh lásko, look at you.” His chest fluttered at the first touch, with joy and accomplishment, but also because he was right, when he slid the fabric to the side and ran his finger through your slit. Warmth dripped onto his fingertips, and he felt himself grow hard beneath the restraint of his own clothes.

“Do you really like me this much?” he cooed, so pleased that just one ugly kiss had managed to drench your knickers and make you feel so ashamed you nearly flinched away.

“Viktor—” You looked at the floor, your brows furrowed, your face burning from being so exposed, so naked. And you looked so, so beautiful.

“I am not mocking you,” he murmured, placing a reassuring hand on your cheek and caressing it gently. It was almost a praise, though he dared not say it yet. “What makes you want a cripple so much? Is it your heart that longs for me, your mind that thinks you can change me, or just your body?” he mused, revealing too much merely by asking.

You looked almost offended by how blunt he was about knowing what you wanted, just not knowing why. His fingers now parting you, playing at your entrance, teased you but you wouldn’t flinch. You just searched his face hesitantly and as Viktor grew tired of waiting, he pushed two fingers inside you, curling them, mercilessly bumping your wall, forcing you to flinch. He really wanted to see your eyes roll back into your skull, and he really wanted to hear his name distorted by a breathy moan.

“Which… would be the worst?” Your breath fanned his face as you steadied yourself on his shoulders. Truly, you weren’t ready for any of the options to be soured.

Viktor thought for a moment, his fingers slowly retreating, almost absent-mindedly. When his answer was found, he pushed back in, smiling innocently, his face moving close to yours. “The first. The second,” he mused, another slow, unbearably so, thrust. “I could fuck out of you. The third, well…” A gentle kiss on your lips, almost loving. “I see no fault in the third.”

“Of course, you don’t,” you scoffed, your grip on his shoulders tightening with each minute. “And what brings you back to me over, and ah,” a gasp escaped your mouth when Viktor brushed his thumb over your clit. You closed your eyes and evened your breath. “Back to me. Heart, mind or… body?” you asked, your brow furrowed in concentration against Viktor’s efforts to throw you off course.

“Which would be the worst?” He quirked his lips against yours and chuckled at another concentrated huff. He could feel your unrelenting grip on his shoulders, was convinced that it would leave a mark, and it made his cock twitch in his pants. To be marked by this gentle creature, a dream.

“Any of them, without the others,” you quipped, your eyes shut. Viktor’s movements stilled at that. You had managed to surprise him. Again. Of course, you would want to devour him as much as he wanted to devour you. Eat you whole, spit out the bones and build a shrine out of them. Ugly.

He retreated his hand and chuckled at the muffled whine that followed. He licked his fingers clean once your eyelids fluttered open, making sure you were watching. Rude. But he was going to kiss you with this mouth.

His hands snaked back up your spine, your body pliant against his, providing him with warmth. His teeth and lips got back to work on the swell of yours, and you fell right into it, mouth open, when his tongue pushed itself down your throat as Viktor began his meal. “I will die if I don’t fuck you,” he rasped. So fucking dramatic over nothing, over just a kiss and some unfinished fingering, and a clipped conversation about what he wanted.

He could abandon it here. He could walk out; he could sit on your bed and just study and watch Dexter. He could drink his tea, already cold, he could make you blush all evening, bid you goodbye and go back to his grimy room to jerk off and fuck off. But he couldn’t stop.

“Please, I’ll be so good to you,” he prayed to you, your hands so warm on his waist as he kissed you till he was out of breath. “You don’t know what you are doing to me.” Pathetic, moronic wail escaped him. And he knew you only grew wetter and wetter, your lips getting hotter on him. Panting, you pulled him by the belt and walked the two of you over to the bed, leaving Viktor with no other support than yourself.

He had never rid himself of his clothes so fast. Everything he had on, tossed and crumpled by the bed, next to your own little pile. All the layers of the second, the third skin abandoned, his brace, his pants, his boxers, embarrassingly soaked with sweat and precum, when he crawled on top of you just to keep kissing you and biting your neck, leaving nasty marks everywhere. He panted, his own breath betraying him as your skin came in contact and Viktor whined simply at his cock rubbing against your thigh and he wanted more.

“If you want to stop, tell me.” Another raspy, absolutely dishonest, but a proper plea, asking for the complete opposite. Please, never ask me to stop. “Do you understand?” You nodded, again—not good enough. Your eyes so wide, he could barely see the colour. When you were splayed flat below him, he could see your heart twitching, your chest contracting. A minuscule movement, but he could see it.

“Words, I need to hear your words, lásko,” he growled, stunned by his own impatience.

“I understand.” A kindness in your voice enveloped him. He slid you down the mattress by the ankles, his cock rested against your slit. With clumsy hands he put on a condom, stole a pillow from under your head to support his bum leg and adjusted his crooked crouch. You had the audacity to chuckle at the commonality of his movements and he bit your calf in response.

Absolutely unhinged, you hooked your foot behind his neck, and he immediately loved the weight that pulled him down, steadied him, as he teased your entrance. You held a breath; he had forsaken the privilege of air long time ago.

The first thrust was just blissful. He could feel the crease on his forehead relaxing, his mouth opening, his jaw hanging heavily, just joy and warmth, him awash in it. He felt so full, so complete, yet it was you who was full of him as your bodies slotted together easily, differently to the last time, which left him feeling awkward and ashamed and unfinished.

You rested your hands on his hips, gripping the sharp angle of his bones, your fingernails leaving crescent marks that he would run his fingers over in the morning. “You are doing so well,” he whispered in awe, and it was honest, and you loved it, he felt it in his cock getting squeezed in a silent gratitude.

He felt his ugliness leaving him with each pump of his hips, each sloppy sound of your bodies bumping against each other, his cock twitching inside you, and he needed one more thing to make this even less ugly.

He brushed his thumb over your clit, stretching it, teasing you and taking in all your huffs and puffs, your contorting stomach muscles, your tightening walls. A longing look and an echoing question followed. “Do you love me?”

“Viktor, don’t be cruel,” you answered so fast, he almost retreated. How could you think so? A childlike curiosity creeped onto his face.

“I am not. I really ought to know. Just say yes or no,” Please, just say yes. He felt you twitch at the question, and it made him think he was right. But he could have also been completely deranged. Brain burnt by lust and all the ugly things.

“Viktor—” you pleaded at the loss of his thumb on you.

“I can feel you. Yes or no?” A hard thrust, right up your guts. You yelped, and he could see the tears forming in the corners of your eyes, and the sight was something to behold, keep in the palace of his mind forever.

“Then, why are you asking?” You were ready for filth. For his erotic weirdness, for his awkwardness, for all the want he would suppress every time you interacted. You felt it all in his fleeting touch, in the warmth of his thigh when your naked toes rested against it idly, unintentionally, though very intentionally. But this was how you coax a cat. And this was not how cats responded.

“You will see,” he promised, more to himself. “Do you love me, now, in this moment, when I’m fucking you? Yes or no?” Another twitch of your cunt at ‘love’. He left himself unguarded, shielded only by the mould of your womb.

“Yes.” A tiny, shy ‘yes’. But it fell right into Viktor’s heart and there it grew into a big promise, and he would keep it and take care of it and cherish it.

His body bent in half, his mouth seeking yours. A sloppy kiss, painful, with teeth at your tender lip. Another, earnest, slow and careful. Another, quick and fleeting, before he found your ear. Between them, “I love you,” whispered back like a secret, like a prize for your struggle.

Your breaths grew frantic, you wanted to keep him close. You tangled your fingers into his hair, tugging him in, so you could lick the sweat from his neck, bite it and claim it. Your leg slipped onto his hip, and you curled it around him, his bone digging into your thigh.

“Do you see? How it feels?” he rasped into your ear, gripping you tight. “To be loved while being fucked? Tell me how it feels.” Viktor moaned with each of his thrusts, holding back getting harder and harder. His cock getting more swollen. Your walls getting tighter.

“Amazing,” you whispered, pulling his mouth back to yours. “I love you.”

Viktor’s eyes rolled back into his skull. He slumped onto you, his hands snaking behind your waist, and he could feel your sweat merging with his as your chests pressed together. “I love you,” he cooed weakly. “You can come now, lásko.”

He felt your thighs clutch on his hips, a long spasm twisting your spine underneath him. You came with an orgasm wrenching breath out of your lungs, leg bending, blinding. The ‘I love you’ falling from your lips over and over again, and Viktor could finally let go and spill all his ugliness out. He came with a loud moan seconds after, his brain fucked out, his heart swollen, as he came loved for what he was.

He held you tight through it, chests heaving, when he felt a quiver and wetness on his cheek. “Are you hurt?” he whispered.

You sobbed onto his chest, hands caged in his arms as you tried to release them and wipe the tears away. “No, no,” you shook your head. “What is this… feeling?” It had no name. For Viktor, it was a dumbing bliss. He could cry too if he wasn’t so warm.

“How do you feel?” He wanted to know what it was like on the other side. No one ever told him, no one ever shared this with him.

“Hollow. Ah… fuck. Empty,” you struggled to find the words, trying them out on your tongue, but they felt wrong. “I feel like you took something… bad from me. And now I don’t know what to do with the space left—” you gasped between sobs as Viktor rolled you to the side and pulled your hair to expose your neck.

You buried your face in the curve of his shoulder. Tears fell on their own, and Viktor wanted to drink them and cry them out himself. When the sobs transformed into clipped breaths, and clipped breaths transformed into one long exhale, you asked carefully, “Viktor, you don’t really love me, do you?”

“Well, do you really love me?” His chest was swollen, his head heavy. He was triumphant. He was so invincible he had it in him to love you.

Silence, for a while. Viktor nudged you gently with his chin and whispered a soft command, “Go to the bathroom, I’ll be here.”

You looked at him, the practicality of it spreading a strange warmth in your belly. Wordlessly, you got up and disappeared, still naked as day, and Viktor watched your feet shuffle in the creak of the bathroom door. He got up, put on his underwear, and drank his cold tea in one go.

When you got out, a relief glimpsed through your face, as if you were expecting him to be gone. He waited for you with a cup of tea and a clean sweatshirt, beckoning you to slide into it. Once you both had a singular piece of clothing on, he pulled you back into bed and cuddled sweetly into you. “How do you feel now?” he asked, running his fingers through your hair.

“I feel… like I really need you to love me right now,” you let it slide out. Even though your sweatshirt shielded you from the chill of the room, your soul was still completely bare and shivering. And Viktor loved this nudity, the weirdness of it, the feeling of belonging it gave him.

He found that is was his hands that were lingering now, that the tender thought of the morning coffee was no longer distorted by fear, the quiet and the silence became comfortable in a good way. He felt so wanted, so beautiful in your eyes. He felt all the right things and none of the wrong things. His ugly snake was skinned and turned into a beautiful object. In this beautiful space only beautiful words seemed fitting. “I really do love you right now.”

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor x reader smut #viktor x f!reader #arcane #viktor smut #arcane fanfic #my writing #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor x oc #viktor nation

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rainrot4me · 9 months ago

Text

Return The Favor

Summary: Stumbling in on your neighbor’s chopped up body, an unlikely friendship forms between you and Toby. Striking a deal, you agree to help the killer and his friends, buying them necessary prescriptions. But when one visit turns to multiple, Toby becomes curious, finding a not so subtle love note hidden away.

Characters: Ticci Toby x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Mentions of death, explicit description of a dismembered body, decomposition, death, gore, obsession, vomit, throwing up, blood (non-sexual), blood (sexual), vaginal fingering, degradation, biting, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, vaginal, choking, gagging, somnophilia, rough, Toby literally goes insane about you, virginity kink, first time, desperation

Words: 9.4k

A/N: This shit long asl I'm so sorry... Characters in this story are not canonical!

It’s said that when there’s a dead body nearby, your body can sense it before your brain can.

It’s almost like instinct, a survival nature programmed into your brain. It’ll start with goosebumps and chills running all over your body as if you were being watched, this uncomfortable sensation that you just can’t rationalize. Then the anxiety sets in, body aching and sweating for no apparent reason but it just knows there’s something wrong.

Finally, when you’ve finally choked it up to just being your imagination, that’s when you’ll smell it. Throat instantly closing and nostrils flaring at the putrid stench of rot and gore. It’s incomparable, no amount of food poisoning or disease compares to the sickness you feel in your stomach at the smell of a human body decomposing. Every instinct in your body pleading and begging you to get out of there, run as far away until you can’t breathe anymore.

You would know. And it seemed like the boy huddled in front of you did too.

There was no real reason for you to even be in this house in the first place, but your all-too-good heart guilted you into it. You had just come home from work, mind tired and body sleepy as you unlocked your front door, tossing your bag onto the kitchen table inside. It was well past midnight, the diner you worked at closing way later than normal, but at least you made some good tips.

Sliding into your bedroom, you changed into more comfortable clothes, tying your hair back before stepping into your kitchen. You gripped the tiny journal lying on the counter, cracking the worn pages open to where you left off, scribbling your thoughts onto the paper. It was your nightly routine, journaling things you saw or did, a coping mechanism suggested by your therapist. It wasn’t for anything intensive, just minor anxiety and self-image problems, always having negative thoughts about yourself. It helped. Glancing up, you looked through the tiny window above your sink, a clear view of your neighbor’s back porch, Mr. Higgs, an older man who made it very difficult to be friendly. He was a hateful guy, always nitpicking your choice of decorations or specific outfits he didn’t find appropriate. A real sweetheart, obviously.

But compared to his usual eight PM lights out, the living room lamp was still bright, shining directly through his open back porch door. That was odd. As long as you had known this guy, it wasn’t like him to be up this late, let alone be outside. Every instinct told you to just clean up and go to bed, his angry ass probably scooting off a raccoon or something. But you just couldn’t pass up that nagging feeling, your kindheartedness overpowering you. So, sighing, you tossed a hoodie on and slid out your back door, stepping down the porch steps into the cool grass.

You flinched as a flash of brown passed your vision, small and thin against the dark grass. Cooing, you kneeled down, holding your fingers out as Mr. Higg’s old cat, Addy, sniffed the air around you, pressing against your bare legs as she purred. The man was way too protective of his cat. Something was definitely wrong.

Standing again, Addy pranced away, meowing loudly behind you as your bare feet became wet against the midnight dew, grass sticking to your ankles as you walked, arms hugging yourself against the cold. This would probably just end with you getting told to mind your business and stomping back to bed upset, but it was the thought that counted. Gripping onto the porch rail, you stepped up his creaky wooden porch, knocking against the wooden frame of the open door.

“Mr. Higgs? Everything alright?” You called into the room, refusing to go in. There was no response, you knocked again after a couple of seconds. Still nothing. You gulped, rubbing your arms against your sides, nerves wracking you. “Okay. I’m coming in. Don’t get mad 'cause you didn’t answer me.” You called again, pressing past the door and wiping your wet feet on the welcome mat.

The house was quiet, the only light being the lamp sat on a coffee table adjacent to the old couch. All the furniture had an older look like something out of the eighties, it made you cringe. “Mr. Higgs, are you home?” You shouted down the dark hallway, all the doors shut except for one at the end which you assumed to be his room. Hugging yourself, your legs felt anxious, your mind racing with all the reasons you shouldn’t walk down there. There was no reason for it, this was all just probably some old guy who forgot to shut his door, but you just couldn’t shake the feeling.

Taking a step down the hallway, that’s when it started. Those feelings, like your body can feel shouldn’t be there. The air suddenly grew thick, a nauseating feeling setting in against your chest, pressing down like a conscious weight. But you shook it off, telling yourself it was just you scaring yourself with all of those crime shows, but you should’ve known better.

The door was cracked, moonlight from the open shades pressing against the doorframe, your hand flat against the wood as you pushed the door open. Then came the smell. It was stout, a putrid funk that wafted against the walls, souring the room. The room was dark, pupils blown wide as they fought to see, hand sliding against the wall and searching for a light switch. Your body was tense, senses on high alert against the dark, breathing ragged against the awful stench filling your senses. Your eyes were beginning to water, wondering what in the hell could be stinking this terribly, until you felt the switch, flipping it on.

Your first instinct was to throw up, throat constricting and stomach tightening, but you just couldn’t move. You were petrified by the scene in front of you. Mr. Higgs was there, at least, what you could recognize of him. His head had been cleaved from his body, intensive amounts of blood staining his beige bedsheets. His cheeks were bloated, a gnarly purple color as his veins poked against his forehead, skin wrinkled and soaked in blood as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. They were yellow now, dark veins contrasting against the orbs as puss leaked from every hole on his expressionless face. The rest of his body was scattered, chunks of muscle shredded from his arms and hands like they had been cut off, legs more or less the same. His wide stomach was completely visible, his skin swollen and dark, bloated against the same liquids spilling from his pores. The blood was the worst part. It was just everywhere. Splattered on the sheets, the nightstand, even the walls, specks reaching the roof. You were so lost in your racing thoughts, your heart pounding heavily against your chest as you gripped the door tightly, knuckles white on the frame. You could feel the cold sweat drip down your brow, utter fear chilling your body.

You wouldn’t have even noticed the tall boy standing in the corner if he hadn’t flinched, eyes wide and locked on you. He was lanky, easily taller than you and pale. No, not pale, more gray. He had curly brown hair that fell in front of his eyes, his freckled cheeks flushed against the bandages across his jaw. A pair of goggles rested amongst his curls, a dark mask covering his nose and mouth. He wore dark wash jeans loose around his hips and a heavier brown hoodie that was stained with dark blood. Oh God. The boy didn’t look much older than you despite his bruise battered skin. But he wasn’t moving, wasn’t talking, he was just watching.

His hands were behind his back, shoulders scrunched against the corner of the dark walls as you pressed back off the door frame, breathing ragged. “Who the hell are you?” You grimaced, tone coming across a lot more confident than you felt. The boy flinched, not out of fear, more like a bodily reaction. He refused to answer, eyes scanning around quickly until he pressed off the wall, sliding to the shuttered window and pinching the blinds open, scanning the night without explanation. That’s when you heard loud boots stepping up the porch steps, head spinning quickly down the hallway. “Shit.” You heard him, the boy’s voice panicked and rough, his boots stepping quickly across the hardwood and into your vicinity. Panic strained you, head spinning back quickly before your vision was filled with his arms wrapping around you, palm slapping over your mouth as he pressed you to his chest.

You tried to fight back, mumbled pleas against his hand as you shouldered his arms, your back pressed firmly against him. He was dragging you into the room, your feet dragging as you struggled, clawing his arms away but he never budged, practically unaware of the scratches you were leaving on his hands. “F- Fuckin’ quit-” He growled quietly, pressing open the small closet doors and dragging you both in, quickly shutting the door as you heard the boots grow louder down the hallway. A sliver of light shone through the crack in the door, leaving you just enough room to see the gorey scene as you pressed off of him, his muscled arms refusing to let you go.

“Toby?” A scratchy voice called into the room, the figure stepping through the door frame and into your line of sight. At his appearance, you froze completely, your body tense against the boy behind you. His arms gripped tighter, bandaged fingers digging into your cheek as he kept you quiet. He was horrifying.

This man was taller than the one in the closet with you, pasty skin a sharp contrast against his dark messy hair. His eyes were wide, pupils dark against his reddened scleras. He wore a white hoodie, dark jeans covered just the same with Mr. Higg’s blood. But the worst part, the part that made your heart pump in your throat, was his smile. It was etched in, flesh torn upwards into a mocked smile, teeth exposed from the side of his cheek. The area was mangled, seemingly unhealed as blood dried against the cut. He almost made Mr. Higgs seem not that bad.

“Twitch, come on,” He called again, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket as he strolled around the room, kicking Mr. Higg’s severed foot out of the way. “I’m gettin’ tired. This guy had some good beers and I’m tryna get back home and drink ‘em.” He snickered, turning back out of the room and back down the hallway, his loud boots stomping against the old floors. Who you presumed to be Toby didn’t let you go, arms just as tight around you as you gripping his hoodie’s sleeves tight. “Fine then! If you’re gonna play fuckin’ hide and seek then I’m leavin’ your ass here!” He called throughout the house, your body only untensing when you heard the back porch door slam shut, loud boots thunking down the porch and out of earshot.

You both waited a couple of seconds, heart thudding in your ears as arms slowly released you, palm unclasping from your mouth. Panicked, you slammed out of the closet, turning around quickly and facing Toby, back pressed against the nearest wall as you searched for something to defend yourself with. “D- Dumbass.” He grit, pressing out of the cramped closet and facing you, tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie. The stench of the room pressed harder than ever, making your head dizzy as you pressed out of the room and down the hallway, Toby quick on your heels. “Whoever the fuck you are, whatever the fuck you want, I’m sure Mr. Higgs didn’t have it. Why in God’s name is he in pieces in his bedroom?” You hissed, gagging as the image replayed in your mind, turning into his kitchen and wracking the cupboards. When you found a small plastic cup, you ran water in through the sink, chugging the stout liquid down as you calmed your breathing. Toby stayed in the doorframe, crossing his arms. You probably shouldn’t have let your guard down, knowing full and well what he had just down to your neighbor, but you figured if he was going to he would have already.

“It’s none of y- your business. I don’t k- kill innocents, so you s- shoulda just stayed home, m- missy.” He growled back, stuttering through the words. You tossed the cup in the sink, the plastic clattering against the metal as you turned to face him, running your hands through your hair. “Hard to when you guys so obviously left his door open. The bastards hounded me for years, you’d think I’d be happy about his death, but not fucking like that.” You hissed, leaning back against the counter and crossing your arms, bare feet cold against the porcelain tiles. “I mean, Jesus. And I mean, thanks and all for the save back there, but how is killing him and saving me any different? It’s just favoring one innocent over another.” Toby shook his head, sliding past you and tugging a drawer open, shovelling through old receipts until he found the stack he was searching for. He passed it to you, paper crinkling as you skimmed through, old pharmacy receipts for prescription medicine.

“H- Had the old bastard bu- buying our meds. Paid h- him off and everything. Un- Until he started g- giving us coun- counterfeits, sellin’ u- us out. He h- had to pay u- up somehow…” He huffed, shoving his mask down off of his nose and under his chin, his thin lips chapped against the bandages hugging his cheeks. And of course, he was cute.

“So he gets shredded?” You had to breathe through that sentence, throat tight with nausea. Toby nodded, a small smirk crooking at the corner of his lips. You grimaced, pressing off of the counter and through to the living room, the old furniture seeming a lot less homey now. You were going home, filing a police report, and praying to God these fuckers didn’t come back to get you instead.

“U- Uh, might wa- wanna clean up, t- too,” Toby chuckled from behind you. You paused, confused as you looked around, stomach twisting as you looked down. Bloody footprints trekked through the kitchen behind you, a trail leading to your bare feet as you lift your knee, gagging at the sight of Mr. Higg’s blood coating your soles. Toby was laughing, the noise muffled against the ringing in your ears as you hunched over, stomach convulsing as you puked on the hardwood floors, your lunch from work coming back up. Head straining, you panted, wiping your lips. “Oh, s- shit, okay.” Toby hissed, sliding to your side and raising you up, hugging you close to his side. He drug you through the door, stomach still churning as you watched your footprints faintly appear beneath you, purposefully dragging them through the grass to get the blood off. You felt disgusting, giving no fight as Toby brought you to your porch steps, helping you up. He was so bipolar, angry and distasteful for one second, then cautious and endearing the next. It really was like you were dealing with a teenager.

Addy circled your ankles, her dense fur tickling your skin and making you jump, Toby gripping your arms tighter. “Oh, hi kitty.” You cooed, breathing deep as you kneeled down, scooping her up into your arms as Toby helped you up the rest of the steps. Without asking, he slid open your screen door, helping you both inside as Addy purred against your chest, Toby wary as he stared at her. You dropped her on the floor gently, Toby sliding the door shut as you hunched over your sink, cleaning your mouth and grabbing a rag for your feet. Toby still eyed Addy, fidgeting his nails as he followed her. “Ever seen a cat before? She was Mr. Higg’s.” You chuckled, cleaning the soles of your feet off and tossing the rag into the sink, still feeling unclean. Toby nodded, rubbing his arms nervously as he looked back at you, smiling awkwardly. “Yeah. Us- Used to have one. T- They kinda sc- scare me now.” Smiling, you scooped Addy up again, petting her soft fur as you brought her close to the boy, his neck twitching nervously.

How could this guy shred a man to pieces, but petting a cat was too frightening for him? You couldn’t understand. Digressing, you gripped his wrist, steadying the twitches as you placed his hand on her back, rubbing gently as Toby flinched, breathing quickly. Addy purred, unbothered by the action as he became more comfortable, fingers playing with her fur before he pulled his hand back, breathing deep.

You were too nice for your own good, too easy at giving the benefit of the doubt. Of course, you would find the redeemable traits in a murderer, heart hurting for this boy who was more or less the same as you. Groaning, you dropped Addy, crossing your arms. “Listen. What you did, it’s… For my own conscience, I can’t let it happen again.” You grit, circling your countertop and sitting on a stool, your journal tucked in front of you as you fidgeted with the pages. “If we can agree, I’ll buy your meds. I have a friend who can write me prescriptions, no questions asked. But I need you to understand, under no circumstances, are you allowed to harm me. I’ll call the cops.” Like the cops could stop these lunatics. But, you needed some type of leverage.

Toby thought quietly, eyes narrowed as he flinched uncomfortably against Addy rubbing on his shins, purring loudly. If you could hold your end, there would be no trouble, but he had to know he could rely on you. “Th- The meds aren’t for m- me. My f- friends, they need ‘em to function, m- mentally… You g- gotta realize this is- is serious.” Even stuttering his voice was stern, arms crossed as he thought, contemplating. You nodded, brushing your hair from your face as you groaned, realizing how desperately you needed to learn to set boundaries. “I can get them. But you have to keep your end, too.” You hissed back, pinching your fingers nervously. Toby smiled, crossing his heart, literally. Rolling your eyes, you nodded, rubbing your face as you groaned. What the fuck were you even doing?

“I’ll have them by the end of the week. Come later at night, cops’ll be swarming for weeks thanks to you.” Toby nodded, sliding over to the counter and gripping your journal, tearing a page out as he wrote the list of prescriptions you would need to get. It was a hefty list, some of that shit intense. “Abou- About that,” He slid his mask up over his nose, sliding the screen door open as he stepped out, chuckling. “Do- Don’t go outside. Gonna ma- make it look like a g- gas leak.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he shut the screen, sliding his hood over his head and peeling down the porch steps. Finally taking a deep breath, you stared at Addy, wondering what in the absolute fuck you were doing. Rest in hell, Mr. Higgs.

He made it look like a gas leak alright. The house was on fire in minutes, the bright orange flames lighting your room as you heard sirens in the distance, your other neighbors gathered outside their houses as you climbed into bed, groaning your displeasure. Cops and firefighters swarmed for days afterwards, investigating the area thoroughly, but never finding any remains of Mr. Higgs, his body buried somewhere far away. They eventually grew restless, the city quickly cleaned up the charred remains of the house and a new plan for construction was set in soon. It went over smoothly, no one even suspecting a thing.

The days passed slowly, nervousness building as the end of the week grew closer, feet shuffling as you stood in line at the pharmacy. You got the doctor’s notes easily, already called in and waiting to be picked up as you were handed a small paper bag, the pharmacist eyeing you closely as you hurried out. Once in your car, you rummaged the sack, eyes wide as you read the dosage instructions on each little pill bottle. You read each bottle carefully, cringing at the names of the contents: Thorazine, Prolixin, Haldol, and even Aripiprazole. They were all high-end antipsychotics, the list of treatments for schizophrenia and mania, along with treatment-resistant depression. The last bottle caught your eye, a quick Google search told you it was for tourette's. So his twitching wasn’t just nervousness, huh. Shoveling the sack into your bag, you sped home, Toby well on his way as the sun set low.

The first week was easy, Toby in and out without so much as a hello, nodding his thanks as he bolted back into the woods, eyes dark and heavy. It was easy for you, moving along with your life despite the one night of the week. You felt easier, the boy quick about his stops with some chat, but never hanging around for too long, eyes always scanning the tree line nervously.

As weeks passed, he grew more comfortable, you learned that he was quick about stopping due to his friends, their curiosity about you making him nervous about losing his ‘dealer.’ You learned to leave his meds on the counter, sometimes not even present when he would sneak in at the late hours of the night, your job taking precedence over your sleep schedule. But with all of this money being spent weekly on medicine, you had to pick up more time at work, everything being paid for out of pocket not to raise suspicion. You were sleeping more, journaling and your hobbies taking less importance until they were practically nonexistent. It was hard, your serving heart refusing to let you rest, making sure Toby got his medication is the most important thing. You were strained, to say the least.

However, surprisingly, after a couple of weeks, Toby wasn’t in a hurry to leave. He had slid in like he always did, you sat at the counter eating your dinner as you scribbled through the pages of your notebook, summing up the previous days. You were exhausted, Toby making you jump slightly as he shut the screen door, rummaging through the paper sack. “G- Got any more?” He grinned shyly, sliding his mask and goggles off and tossing them onto the counter. You nodded to the fridge, an extra container of leftovers from the diner quickly opened in front of him as he shoveled it into his mouth. “It’s better heated up,” You laughed, shutting your journal as you slid off the stool, gripping the to-go container from him and popping it into the microwave. You both sat there awkwardly, Toby kneeling down to rub Addy’s back as she appeared beneath him, soft purrs echoing. He was still nervous, never petting her for too long before standing back up, the microwave beeping. The food came out steaming, sliding open a drawer and handing him a fork, Toby continued to shovel the food into his mouth. You hissed, holding his arm as the steaming food sizzled inside his mouth, it had to be burning him. “Oh. Y- Yeah, I don’t fe- feel pain. Th’s good, tho- though.” He grinned, slurping up more of the food. He acted like he hadn’t had warm food in forever, stuffing his face and barely giving himself time to chew. You rolled your eyes, chuckling as he ate.

The stays became longer after that, his excuse being he was hungry, continuously raiding your fridge until you began to have food ready for him, prepping his meals along with your own. Thirty minutes turned to an hour, to two hours, and then eventually through the night. He would crash on your couch, Addy curled in his lap as the television blared some old movie. That was one of the only times you didn’t see him ticcing, the cat acting as an anchor against his restless body. He looked truly comfortable, using your blankets and pillows to his advantage, beginning to invite himself to stay the night after a while.

You sat at the counter, Toby snoring loudly as he laid face first into the couch pillow, scribbling into your journal. It was the one thing you had time for, having to get up early for work as the soft glow of the kitchen light lit the pages. Toby was practically pushing himself into your life, his lack of manners and curious mannerisms leading him to take initiative. You were grateful for his friendliness, giving great detail of his missions with his friends and explaining that whole situation. Even still, you were wary.

But against your better judgment, your relationship with the killer was becoming less transactional. He brought you things to make for dinner, talked with you through your mutual sleepiness, and even took care of Addy when you were too delusional after work. For lack of a better word, he was becoming a friend, showing up for more than just his medication, even sometimes forgetting the bag and having to chase him down. He was infesting your life, arriving earlier than he should and leaving later than you cared for. The end of the week was becoming optional, the screen of your porch door sliding open nearly every night of the week Toby didn’t have a mission. It was annoying but in a comforting way, like you both were becoming closer naturally despite your differences.

As you heard his snores, you groaned, rubbing your tired eyes as you began to write, letting your pencil guide on the page numbly as you wrote your thoughts. It wasn’t directed at Toby on purpose, but the further you got down the page the further your heart sank, hand fisted in your hair as you rested your elbow on the cold marble counter. “Ah, Jesus…” You grit, scribbling the final few words as you lean back, rubbing your head. The words weren’t lies, more of a hard truth you weren’t willing to accept, chalking it up that you were just tired and desperate. The words could have been about Toby, or they could have been about anyone, you didn’t really care. Sighing, you tore the page out, folding it and shoving it into the back of the book, closing the pages quickly. Sleep sounded much easier as you flipped the kitchen light off, turning the volume of the television down as you trudged upstairs to your room, giving one last glance to the snoring boy and his matching cat.

Toby knew his mishaps with you, his moral compass long forgotten the more time he spent inside your home. He told himself it was just easier, food and shelter at his disposal whenever, but he knew better. It was so much more than just picking up medicine for Tim and Brian now, it was a solid relationship, a bond that was forming in his eyes.

It had been almost four months since the unfortunate death of your neighbor, a smile creeping every time he saw the charred flecks of wood buried in the overgrown grass. You had begun to leave the back door unlocked, reasoning that someone breaking and entering would be less of a hassle than him. That was what Toby really hooked onto the most about you, your humor about everything. Despite your hardships and the emotions you had to overcome, you held a caring heart, compassion always lacing every action. He found it admirable, your humor through your busy life. And, likewise, he did feel bad for making you work so much, tired eyes always hurting his heart whenever you were around. But, it wasn’t like he could get a job, so he helped where he could, cleaning and learning to cook for your sake. He needed this medicine, for his friend’s and his own stability, even at your expense.

You were already nestled at your spot on the counter, writing your thoughts in that damn journal. You barely even looked up as he entered, diving for the fridge as he scooped up Addy with one arm, her purs a nice vibration against his shoulder. Popping the container in the microwave, he leaned in over your shoulder, trying to catch a glance at your scribbling before you shoved him off, closing the book quickly. “Ah, ah, mind yours.” You smiled, forking your own food into your mouth. “O- Oh come on, [Y/N], just a pe- peak.” He smiled back, gathering his food as he began to eat, sliding onto his familiar spot on the couch. It was routine now: where you sat, what he watched, what you both talked about. He explained his latest mission with Masky in more detail than you enjoyed, pushing your food away as you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. You both laughed throughout the night before you whisked your food into the fridge, calling your goodnights before heading upstairs.

Toby continued to watch the television, brushing Addy’s back with his bandaged fingers as he sat his empty container to the side. His curiosity nudging him, he raised up, tossing his trash before he slid to the counter, you all too confidently leaving your journal there. Slipping back onto the couch, he began to flip through the pages, listening closely for your footsteps as he read your entries, smiling as they dated all the way back to your high school years.

It seemed as though everything you thought spilt onto these lines, emotions erratic between every page as he realized just how much of a people pleaser you really were. All through your recent years, it was nothing but service, acting through the goodness of your soul until it felt sickening, fake almost. He cringed, flipping quickly through but finding nothing juicy, no deep dark secrets that he felt were interesting. Sighing, he closed the journal, standing to set it back onto the counter, until a slip of paper fell from between the pages. Smiling, Toby leaned down, arms twitching as he slid the journal back onto the counter, leaning against the marble as he flipped the paper open, reading carefully.

“Sometimes, when I think about it too hard, I get all emotional about myself. I know I put on a front, like everything I do I’m in charge of and can handle, always putting everyone around me first. But what if I wanted to be put first? I do so much for the sake of others but it never seems to be returned, never compensated for the mental strain. Well, maybe I want to. Maybe I want to be loved like I see others, rough and real. I have no clue how I even would, I can barely handle touching myself before I'm overwhelmed. But I just want someone else to take the reins, show me that I don't have to work my brain so hard and can just numb out. That's not too much to ask, right? Just someone who can love me, not some creep or one night thing, someone who cares. If I never ask for anything again, that would be it. Someone who wants me for me.”

He could have died. The brunette’s cheeks dark as he re-read the crumbled page, excitement coursing through him. In his mind, he wanted to storm upstairs and just rattle you then, showing you how good he could treat you. It was like a bomb had gone off, Toby having to pretend like him having a crush on you wasn’t achingly obvious, convincing himself he just didn’t know how to act around women. But now it was clear, his mind racing with a million wants and needs, body spasming under the excitement.

Convincing himself to leave, he slipped the note into his pocket, body buzzing with excitement as he slid out your door. He would be back, like always. But this time, he would show you what you truly needed, what only he could give you.

Like always, Toby left a note for the medication you needed to pick up, it sometimes changing week to week. Everything looked normal, the usual combination of pills reading off. But as you scanned the bottom, you groaned, shoving the paper into your pocket. Trilafon, Saphris, and… Plan B. As if your desperation for some affection couldn’t have gotten much worse, your heart twisted, a lump growing. Whether it be for some girl he was laying or a girlfriend he already had, you didn’t care, all you wanted was to get the medicine and go. Crawling into your bed sounded like a much more exciting activity than dwelling on the brunette, heart saddened in all the way you knew it shouldn’t.

To make your night even better, Toby didn’t show. It wasn’t unusual, for him sometimes not to show up for days due to extensive missions. But a part of you longed to see him, especially after today, just to help your mind with the whole morning-after pill situation. So now, instead of imagining him surrounded by his friends on a mission, you imagined him towering over a girl. Strong arms holding her, body contorting to fit against hers… You could’ve been sick, shaking your head as you ate quickly and pressed upstairs, barely petting Addy before you slinked into bed, hauling the covers over your head.

It was lonely on nights without his presence in your house. But especially tonight, thoughts racing uncontrollably to the point of tears, thick droplets streaking down your face as your chest hurt, longing for a body, any body, to hold close to yours. Maybe you really were just a transactional thing.

Toby smiled as he trekked through the familiar stretch of woods to your house, heart racing in his chest. He had it all planned out, exactly what he wanted to do, his cock already twitching in his jeans.

He hadn’t shown up tonight on purpose, hanging back at the mansion to take the best shower he could, Ben teasing him about how good he smelled as he was leaving. You had to be well in bed by now, body tired after working all day just for him. He would take care of you, showing just how grateful he was for how much you were giving up just for his friends and him. Pressing past the tree line, he smiled, pulling his hood down as all the lights in your home were out, signaling your retirement.

Pressing up the steps, he slid the screen door open quietly, careful not to alert you as he clicked it shut. Stripping his hoodie, he tossed it onto the couch, Addy purring light against the cushions. It was warm in your house, black t-shirt hugging his arms as he untucked it from his jeans, climbing up the steps, his mask and goggles quick to come off next.

He was too excited for his own good, boots stepping quietly against the old hardwood as he slinked to your door, fidgeting with the knob. A rush of your scent blew into his face, your perfume stout in your small bedroom, eyes searching around in the dark space for your bed. It wasn’t hard with your breathing, quiet snores making him smile as he leaned against your mattress, admiring your unawareness. You looked so peaceful, his bandaged fingers tracing your cheeks and brushing your hair from your face, your skin flinching under his touch. “Hi, baby…” He whispered, the pet name sounding right against his tongue as he referred to you, tugging the sheets down.

Toby always knew how nice of a body you had, you sometimes sauntering around the house with shorts and a t-shirt and making his eyes trail just a little longer than normal. But now, under his cold hands, you were even more gorgeous. You were wearing an oversized shirt, a slight tug at the fabric revealing that you only had panties on underneath, you slightly stirring as his nails brushed your skin. The brunette was excitedly jittering, kicking his boots off as he climbed onto the bed, kneeling at your curled body sound asleep. You shifted, rolling onto your back as you breathed deep, stretching your arms before settling back into yourself. Toby could have died, your legs stretching out to rest around him, his cock twitching with interest against your now visible panties. A quiet sigh breathed through your lips.

That was all the invitation he needed. Running his cold hands under your shirt, he felt your warm skin and goosebumps rising as you squirmed under them. Your brows scrunched but Toby pressed further, running his fingers along your waist and up to your tits, palming the mounds gently as he smiled. It was crazy to him just how soft your skin was, not weathered or bruised from missions or nature, perfectly smooth under his axe-calloused hands. Pushing your shirt up to your chest, he gasped at your round tits, the weight so perfect in his hands as he pinched at your nipples, rubbing the nubs gently. Toby was never very sure of anything, always brushing through life at the command of others. But the one thing he was sure about? His love for boobs, especially yours.

Nudging closer between your legs, he rested your knees on his thighs, leaning down to your chest as he popped a nipple into your mouth, sucking gently. The nub was hard against his tongue, slowly circling as he massaged the opposite one in his palm, pinching your nipple gently. That’s when you began to stir, hands sliding against the bed and unconsciously searching for the cause of your sensitivity. Lazy hands pushed against his face, soft groans echoing in the boy’s ears as he popped off your nipple and moved to the next one. Your hands fingered through his hair, tugging lightly until your eyes were beginning to flutter, your mind slowly coming alive. Toby let off your tit, kissing along your chest and licking a stripe between your tits, humming as he watched your eyes slowly blink open, confusion rocking you. He kneaded your tits gently, tugging at your nipples as you realized what was happening, eyes slowly widening as you strained to sit up against him. “Toby? Wha-” Your voice was scratchy, ridden with exhaustion as the brunette kissed up your neck to your cheeks, pushing you back down as he slotted himself flush between your legs. Slowly realizing what was happening, your cheeks flushed dark, hands pressing against his chest as you squirmed, nervously babbling as your body was still half asleep. “Lay b- back, baby… You’re so ti- tired, let me take c- care of you…” Toby sighed, running his hands back down along your skin, relishing in the way your body nervously shook under him.

You physically could not believe what was happening. This had to be a dream, some sick trick your mind was playing as you felt cold fingers hook under your panties, sliding them down. Heavy eyes wide, you grabbed his arms, clenching your thighs together against his waist. “No- No, wait- I don’t even, I mean, I’ve never-” Toby was already shushing you, gripping your wrists together and kissing your palms before pushing them back down to your sides, resuming his tug down your thighs. “I’ve go- got you. Don- Don’t gotta worry about a- a thing…” He smiled, raising your legs up to slide your panties down the rest of the way, hooking them off of your raised ankles before pulling you down closer to him, pushing your shirt over your head. “Read y- your journal, you don- don't gotta act protective, ba- baby. I know this is what y- you want…” If you weren’t already panicking, you definitely were now.

You wanted to hound him for snooping through your journal, mouth opening to tell him off. But as his fingers brushed against the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your folds, you lost all train of thought. He was watching you, eyes excited in the darkness of your room as he swiped his thumb closer again, your thighs flinching shut. “Anyone else e- ever touched here before?” He mumbled, pressing his thumb against your plump lips and tugging them open, getting a nice look at the wetness that was already forming between your folds. Shaking your head, Toby lit up, cock pushing hard against his jeans as he had to adjust his position, using both hands to pull your lips apart, sighing at how pretty your cunt was. Just something about knowing that Toby was claiming his stake on you, imprinting his touch for the first time before anyone else could, made something deep inside of him burn. It wasn’t like the brunette got much play himself, hooking up with a girl here and there, but being your first? That already made this so much better than any other girl could even try.

Sliding his fingers through your wetness, you gasped, hands clutching the pillow behind your head as he groaned, spreading your arousal across your lower abdomen. You whined, thighs begging to clench together as he purposefully slid your juices over your cunt, pressing his thumb down against your swollen clit and jolting your back off the mattress. You had only ever masturbated here and there, your body getting too overwhelmed after one orgasm and forcing you to stop, but would Toby stop? As he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them into his mouth, you doubted his restraint.

“Please be gentle…” You warned, hands planting on the mattress as you sat up, resting on your elbows as you watched Toby bring his digits back down to your cunt. He rolled his eyes playfully, tugging your folds open with his opposite hand as he pressed the tips of his fingers against your entrance, pressing in slowly. “I’ll try…” He laughed, your fingers gripping the sheets tight as you watched his fingers sink in slow, stretching your cunt uncomfortably. His index and middle fingers screwed into your tight walls gently, twisting his wrist to draw a moan from your lips, digits spreading against your gummy walls and making your entrance ache. “Just i- imagine my dick in here…” He cooed, eyes darting between your nervous face and your pretty cunt fluttering around just his fingers, barely even handling them.

Pressing his opposite thumb against your clit, he began to rub in small circles, dragging your hips further and further off of the mattress until you were practically rolling your hips against him. His fingers probed in and out of your cunt at a slow pace, just enough to make you comfortable with the unfamiliar intrusion, but his arms ached to go faster, curl his fingers until you spasmed. “Toby…” You sighed, his hands moving in time with other as he screwed his fingers inside of you, angling them just enough so they pressed against your tight walls. His name sounded like heaven against your aroused tongue, so quiet but so desperate, secretly drawling for more. “Tell me w- what you want, ba- baby…” The pet name made your face hot, your stomach fluttering as you pressed back into the pillows, running your hands down to your thighs and squeezing the flesh. “I want… more…” You sighed through your arousal, cunt clenching desperately around Toby’s cold fingers, sucking them back inside every time he drew them out. The brunette laughed, pushing his feet under him to push his hips up against your ass, your hips raising off the bed as he fingered down into you. You could feel his cock straining behind his jeans below your raised ass, twitching needily with every tug of his fingers and moan that whined from your throat. His size was overwhelming, making your heart pound as Toby began to curl his fingers, making your eyes shut quickly.

His fingers pressed so deep in your cunt, curling against your sensitive walls and making your jaw hang, beginning to press against your walls at a steady rhythm. It was like a new fire had lit under Toby, fingers screwing in at a quicker pace and making your stomach clench, face screwing into an overwhelmed feeling. His fingers pumped in, knuckles sinking in through your wetness and gripped by your gummy walls, curling his fingertips just right as he got deep. It was so intense, so rough, just a mess of slick and your wet cunt sounding through the room with every squelch as he abused your clit, swiping left and right quickly. Your thighs twitched and ached with every curl, trying to close around his hand practically fucking you into sensitivity. Your hands wrapped around his forearm quickly, begging his wrists to stop curling abusively inside of you as you tugged your nails into his skin. Toby wouldn’t, continuing to pump his fingers as he stared at your flushed face, cunt squelching embarrassingly loud. “Just a l- little more… Co- Come on…” He groaned, nudging his hips against your bare ass as his fingers milked moans and whines out of you, his fingers glistening with your arousal every time he tugged them out. He couldn’t feel you clawing at his arms, loud groans begging him to let up as your cunt clenched, molding around his thick fingers.

You could feel your orgasm rolling through you, Toby huffing as the veins in his arms popped, his shoulder muscles straining against his shirt as he watched your face carefully, picking up as your moans became louder. “Gonna come f- for me? Yeah?” He teased, clothed cock twitching against your ass, pushing your cheeks apart as he rutted against you. He curled his fingers quicker, mumbling his arousal as he watched your cunt swell around him, clit throbbing under his thumb. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, stomach tightening and forcing you to sit up, Toby was quick to let off your clit and wrap his arm around your back, holding you up as he pumped your through your cunt squelching, tightening around his digits. Your eyes rolled, teeth grit tight as he palmed your clit, slowing his pace to a slow thrust as you became undone against him. No orgasm of your own had ever compared to that, head light and chest heavy as you breathed quickly, gripping Toby’s shirt tight.

Refusing to let you go, Toby leaned in, pressing kisses against your neck and licking at your sweat, relishing in the warmth around his digits. You whined, cunt sensitive as he tugged his fingers out, his skin raw and pruned against the wetness coating his digits. Your folds were absolutely drenched, Toby spreading his fingers through your lips and pushing his sopping fingers over your warm thighs wrapped around him. “God, y- you’re so wet-” He gasped, pressing his fingertips back against your clit as he laid you back, gripping your tit. Your mind panicked, cunt flashing with sensitivity as he began to rub against your clit, swiping left and right against the rub quickly. “Toby- Stop- Toby, please-” You cried, breath catching in your throat as your stomach clenched, his fingers pressing hard as he pinched your nipples, eyes trained on your wet pussy. “You e- ever squirt before?” He smiled, transitioning fast between digging his fingers into your cunt and pulling them back out to swipe against your clit. It was nauseating, cunt crying desperately for relief as he dug nails into your tits. Gasping loudly, you gripped his arms, knees screwing tight against his sides as you cried out, hips bucking up against his hands.

Every time his fingers slipped into your entrance, they squelched loudly, fluttering around the intrusion before desperately aching as they tugged out and moved onto your clit. “Squirt li- like a whore, m- mkay? Quit fightin’.” He hissed, letting his hand off your tit and scooping under your left knee, pushing it back to open your cunt wider, spreading your legs further apart. Your head was dizzy, heart pounding as you gasped for air, panting at every push of his fingers. You were already quick to cumming, but it felt weird, not that normal clench you felt in your stomach, more of a strain against your cunt itself. You cried out, tears slipping down your cheeks as he forced your pussy against his will, ruining you.

As he swiped his fingertips down hard against your clit, your entrance clenched, mouth opening wide as you cried out, hips bucking up as you felt your cunt squirt, thighs trembling hard. There was literally nothing to compare it to, mind hazy as you sprayed onto his black shirt, his fingers digging into your entrance and pushing more juices out of your swollen folds. Toby was smiling, moaning his approval as he rubbed your clit softly, pushing the last of your orgasm out as you strained against the mattress. “Gunna fu- fuck you dumb, baby…” He growled, tugging the soaked shirt over his head and tossing it as he unzipped his jeans, tugging them down and off his legs as his cock hung heavy against your drenched cunt. You couldn’t even react, head spinning as Toby gripped your hips, pushing you onto your side as he grabbed your ankle, pulling it onto his shoulder and straddling your other.

Neck craning with excitement, he teased the tip of his swollen cock between your folds, slicking himself up with your ruined juices. “This is wh- what you wanted, is- isn’t it?” He smiled wildly, pressing his cock into your ruined cunt, groaning loudly as you swallowed him in, warmth gripping tight as he gripped your leg, other hand stable on your tit. You groaned, face turned into the pillow as he began to thrust deep, giving you no mercy as he tugged at your nipple, biting at your calf as he fucked into you. You felt so full, your body so exhausted already as stretched you further, your entrance burning against the sting of this new girth. You squeezed him so tight, cock forcing itself deeper with every tug of his hips as you began to cry, tears staining your pillowcase.

“Fuckin’ tal- alk to me, baby. Gunna mak- make me cum al- already.” He sighed, teeth chewing against the meat of your calf as he pressed your cunt wider, sweat dripping from his nose as his curls clung to his forehead. He let off your tit, left hand slinking up to grip your jaw and turn your face back to look at him, your eyes heavy as they blurred with tears. Toby looked so good right now, cheeks dark against his freckles as he towered above you, cock pushing against your gummy walls and making your mouth hang. “So pretty…” He smiled, slinking his hand down to your throat and squeezing, cock pulsing as your face tightened, mouth gasping out as he clamped tighter, refusing you air. There was something so orgasmic about cutting your airway, watching your body react as he fucked your virgin cunt, holding your life in his hands. He had to breathe deep to stop himself from cumming, his violent brain spasming out.

He pushed your ankle over his head, pulling out roughly as he rolled you onto your stomach, you gasping from the wave of air hitting your lungs. Pushing himself against your ass, Toby swore, pushing his cock back into your cunt as he pushed your back down, making you arch against him. “Just a l- little more, m’kay?” He growled, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and squeezing hard, pressing your face down into the pillow. With a new pace, he fucked down into you wildly, hand kneading your ass hard as digging his nails into your skin, little welts forming across the soft flesh. Your muffled cries sounded against the pillow, head light and static filled as you gasped for air, Toby’s cock ramming down against your g-spot. “Never s- seen a bitch so willing, so des- desperate for my dick you’d gi- give it up so easily.” He teased, growling as he let off your neck, neck sore as he leaned down, pushing your hair off your neck. Toby hadn’t felt like this before, wanting to mark you, fucking you so desperately he wanted to carve his shape deep inside. He couldn’t let you go without knowing exactly who you craved, corrupting you, ruining you, molding you to fit only him.

He licked against your shoulder, sucking onto the skin before he pressed his teeth, digging both hands into your hips as he sunk them in, groaning at the pop as your blood soaked his teeth. You were crying, screaming into the pillow as your entire body begged for him, craving him, mind going blank as your blood dripped from his chin as he licked at the wound. He pressed on, nibbling into the crook of your neck and sucking revolting hickies into your skin, marking you like an animal. “Wan- Want you to come on m- my cock, baby. I got- gotta fill you full, want y- you ruined for everyone b- but me.” He mumbled quickly, cock begging to spill inside of your warm cunt as you reached around, gripping his hair as he sunk his teeth in again, walls fluttering around him. You pulled his hair, dragging his mouth off of your neck and to your lips, smashing your swollen, tear-stained lips against his as he groaned, kissing you roughly.

You were cumming again, back arching onto Toby’s cock as you moaned into his mouth, walls holding him tight inside. He tried to move, to continue thrusting, but you were so tight all he could do was rutt his hips, begging for friction as his own seed spilt, his brows screwing tight as he came deep inside of you, warm cum seeping deep into your cunt. Your mind was blank, eyes rolled as you cried into his grasp, his nails digging into your hips until you were nearly bleeding. Your cunt squelched, milking his cock as he finally pulled from your lips, letting the last of your orgasms fizzle out before he pushed off of you, slowly tugging himself out as you whined. Looking back, his cock was soaked, glistening with your arousal and streaks of blood, Toby’s eyes wide. “Ah… Yo- You tore…” He hissed, wiping his soft cock with his shirt before pulling his boxers on, quickly trotting out of your room. You dropped your head back onto the pillow, cunt aching and body ruined as you sat in your sweat and each other’s cum, mind tired as you slowly blinked.

Toby was back in seconds, a water bottle, a wet rag, and a small bag all in tow as he climbed back onto the bed, flipping your lazy body onto your back. You smiled, sipping the water bottle slowly as he began to clean you up, gently running the warm rag between your folds and against your thighs until he was satisfied, gently rubbing your skin. Finally, he grabbed the bag, your confusion evident as he tugged out the prescription bag, rummaging for the plan b he made you buy and popping one of the pills out, handing it to you as he smiled. Your chest welled, previous anxiety dissipating until you began to tear up, taking the small pill before reaching to wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down next to you. Toby went easily, body cradling against yours as he kissed against the bruised spots on your neck, rubbing your bite mark gently.

As you began to doze, Toby mumbled something about your note, your mind too dizzy to hear the rest. The last thing you saw was a subtle flash behind your eyelids, sleep overtaking you as Toby held you close.

Morning came quickly, your body stirring, reaching for Toby but finding the bed empty. Confused, you sat up, eyes heavy and head still pounding but you pressed off the bed anyway, searching for the boy. Downstairs, on the countertop, laid his hoodie neatly folded, with a small piece of paper resting on top. Sauntering over, you reached for the top, sliding it over your head, it falling before your hips as you gripped the paper, reading its contents.

On a mission. Be back later tonight. Meanwhile, enjoy ;)

Flipping the paper over, you gasped, slapping your hand over your mouth. A small picture was taped to the back, a polaroid-type photo of the two of you cradled together, your bare body pressed against his, bruises and sweat on full display. Smiling, you tucked it into his pocket, breathing the scent of his hoodie deep as Addy circled your ankles, begging for breakfast.

Staring out your back porch door, you made sure it was unlocked, always open for him. Killer or not, that boy was yours now, accepting his every mishap the same way he did yours. For the first time in a long time, you felt wanted.

Rest in Hell, Mr. Higgs.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

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dmitriene · 1 month ago

Text

inspired by @suimon thought.

cw: filth, cum, really pussydrunk simon.

simon ghost riley had decided to grow a moustache, the change of appearance, albeit sudden, seemed like a good emough idea to him during his next shave, he had only recently returned home from deployment, and his patchy stubble had grown enough to form a small beard, surrounding his lips and running up his sharp jaw, covering his pale skin with darkish, coarse hairs, the shaving of which was a relief, refreshing his face, however, when he had only a small part above his upper lip to trim, his hand lingered in the air, and he changed his mind.

“you look silly, si”

was the only response you offered, which wasn't actually true, on the contrary, his smooth, well groomed, and thick mustache enhanced his appearance, making him look even more stern and rugged, stirred a certain lump of feelings within you, compelling your legs to cross in response to the warmth that began in the pit of your belly and radiated outward, suffusing your limbs with a gentle, yet insistent heat, kindling in your cheeks, making your eyes flicker across his face and body with a familiar, bashful anxiety that simon recognized all too well, his thinned lips curling into a broad, sharply fanged grin.

simon is sure that he can convince you otherwise, or at the very least, acknowledge the reality that you have been keeping buried beneath your rapidly expanding ribcage, which will eventually turn out as sporadic keens and whimpers tumbling from gasping mouth, because it is not at all that difficult to nudge his face between your trembling thighs, lay down between your spread legs, calves gripped by his tightly grasping, scarred fingers, not allowing them to snap shut, his lips preoccupied by being put against your cunt.

parting your folds with his tongue, already soaking and slick with ooze of your arousal, tangy, sweet lasting taste smearing against his moustache, hole fluttering against the tip of his curling tongue, teasing over the pulsing entrance, no words remained in your thoughts or mouth, devolving into clear, need brimming hiccups, hips spasming, grinding down to meet the pistoning of his tongue, the ocassional mouthing on the exposed, soft skin of your thigh, quivering beneath at the rasp of his facial hair, before you were arching into his open lapping mouth again, slowly falling apart at the unraveling seams, panting for more, not enough, too good.

it'll leave the tang of you on his tongue and face for a long time, drench him in the cum and sweat, syrupy sweet, unwilling to scrub it off, a permanent reminder of the way you taste, which simon shares with you, crawling up to plunge his still slick coated tongue in your waiting mouth, making you swallow, gasp and moan around insistent, swirling muscle, mapping around, grunting around the weak sob you let out, sound wet with spit, and pulling away to meet your dazed, bleary gaze properly, he knows the mustache would have to linger.

main masterlist. quidelines.

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hyuneflix · 2 months ago

Text

THE CURE 0.2 • Bang Chan

sex therapist!chan x client!reader after years of unhappy endings, your friend suggests a trip to sydney's most up and coming sex therapist. you hadn't expected much, least of all to discover the cure you'd been looking for all this time was your therapist himself.

word count: 13k << back to dash // next episode >>

CONTENT WARNINGS

𐙚 - female masturbation, mutual masturbation, vibrator use, guided masturbation, dirty talk, use of "slut" and similar terms, chan is called sir, light degradation, light spanking, slapping, more orgasm denial, fingering, oral both female and male receiving, sub!reader, soft dom!chan but some hard dom too, slightly possessive chan, praise, very tiny breeding kink in the form of chan pushing his cum inside her.

! - inappropriate relationship dynamic (chan is her sex therapist), reader is written to be neurodivergent though it isn't explicitly stated, therapy talk/setting, descriptions of self help and healing, brief mention of toxic positivity and dissociation, very brief description of reader having a difficult childhood, talk about hopelessness and feelings of defeat. like last time, everything is intentionally vague but approach with caution all the same.

episode two - a cure for self-dissatisfaction

You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe that you were actually here, again. Making another appointment had sounded so promising in the after-glow of your first ever orgasm–or, at least, the first that felt like that–but now that you were actually here you questioned your sanity. How could you possibly face him after that phone call? Sure, it had been an entire month since then, plenty of time to get over it or just cancel the one-hour slot. You never did, though, and you still couldn’t quite decide why. Was it him that you wanted to see again? So entirely unable to close this chapter of your life now that he’d suddenly made its contents more interesting; turning the pages of your life from dull shades of black and white into hues of technicolour.

Or, maybe it was just that. He made things interesting and you needed interesting.

You weren’t sure when it had happened, the manner with which your fairytale life had twisted and morphed into something so mundane. You had the fancy beachside apartment, the dream job with the fun co-workers. You had the nice clothes and the sparkling jewels to go with them; large wardrobe full to the brim with rare pieces and garaments alike. Even your dating life had been exciting, meeting famous faces and well-off suitors in the upscale establishments you frequented with your friends. But it wasn’t enough. You feared nothing would ever be enough. Nothing exciting enough, glamorous enough, expensive enough to fill the growing feeling of indifference that threatened to paint your entire world grey.

A part of you liked familiarity, needed it, even. Clung to it in the same way you gripped the straps of your favourite tote bag. It was comforting to ease the unknowns of life with something habitual and constant. But when you did settle, when the anxiety did dissipate, it was like you almost missed it in its absence. It was the adrenaline you craved rather than the anxious wracking of your brain; the adrenaline that followed every redundant fear your mind conjured up; the push of chemicals through your veins as you murmurred ‘oh fuck, am i going to miss my train?’, ‘shit did i leave the stove on?’, ‘did i have a meeting today or was that tomorrow?.’ The bubbling of nervous adrenaline, it was like a shot of espresso, or the abrupt sound of your morning alarm clock. It forced you back to reality, tore you from the prison your restless thoughts built around your consciousness.

Chan had been that too in a lot of ways, a rude awakening of sorts. He had astounded you in more ways than one, tearing you from normalcy and forcing you from your comfort zone in the process. No longer just floating through life while your mind hummed with restless noise. Perhaps that was why, despite every anxious part of you that wanted to run away from him, a deeper, unheard part refused. You’d regret it, wouldn’t you? Walking away from him, vowing to never see him again. You’d regret it almost instantly no doubt, the tick of your apartment’s clock taunting you as it reminded you where you should’ve been on the day of your cancelled appointment. Your mind would trap you again, filling your head with thoughts of what could’ve been, should’ve been, if you’d just pulled yourself together.

That was of course without mentioning that you indeed remained uncured. You were still very much afflicted with the same inability to get yourself off no matter how hard you tried. You’d done it once, you so foolishly believed from that moment onwards it would be easy. It was not. Even with the vivid memory of that night playing over and over in your mind like a song caught in a loop, you were back to square one. You needed the dark to find the light. How true that had turned out to be, how unfortunate that your infatuation for your therapist was turning out to be more practical than whimsical. You really did need him.

The timing of your appointment meant that within moments of your arrival, the doe-eyed receptionist was already hurrying off for her lunch break, insisting that you wait for Dr Bang in his office instead. Dr Bang, hearing her say it almost pulled a laugh from your parted lips; what a suitable name for someone in his profession. She didn’t join in with your amused half-chuckle as she gathered her purse and coat. You didn’t blame her, you were sure she’d heard the stifled laughter a million times before. Thanking her one last time as she motioned you toward his office, you pushed open the door expectantly.

Immediately your eyes fixed on the black oak desk situated in the foreground of the furthest wall. The room was empty, no muscular figure tucked behind the neat workstation, nor situated in the same leather chair he had been a month prior. You breathed out a sigh, your throat finally releasing a breath you hadn’t even realised you’d been holding until you accounted for his absence. You made your way inside, letting the door close behind you with a clack. It felt eerie being in the infinite silence of his abandoned office. Not even the sound of the AC lulled in the background as you wandered throughout the space, taking in the details as if it were your first time being here, and in a way, it was.

During your last visit you’d been so distracted by Chan you’d been unable to focus on much else, let alone the intricacies of his office. The much too large windows were the first thing you’d noticed, both today and the last. Unlike a month ago they were covered by enormous blinds, the afternoon heat so unbearable today that having the sun exposed would be as sweltering as standing on a shadeless street corner. The lack of AC left the office tepid, and the vacancy of natural light shadowed the once bright room. You felt as if you had stepped into the embrace of a warm hug; one that sucked all the sound from the atmosphere until all that remained was the thumping of your heart.

You could hear it now; your heart. It beat with uncertainty as your eyes trailed across the shelves upon shelves of awards and personal photos behind his desk. You felt like you’d snuck into a secret place you weren’t supposed to be, taking in every detail of someone’s life without an inkling of what any of it meant. One frame held a picture of a smiling boy, a younger girl tucked under his arm in a near chokehold. Judging by the look of disdain on her features, and the mischievous expression on his own, you figured they were siblings. Another picture captured an older version of that boy, one that now more closely resembled Chan. He knelt on the grass, a dog, who’s white fur was blotched with copper-tones, smiled up at him, pink tongue spilling from its mouth. You knew Chan’s life hadn’t started when he met you, but it still felt strange to see it all play out in front of you now.

The office door opened with a clatter, your body spinning round at the intrusion; trusty tote bag slipping from your arm in the process. You caught hold of the strap before it could fall from your rigid limb completely, eyes settling on Dr Bang himself. He seemed frozen in place, palm clutching the door handle with bleached knuckles. His nervous disposition suggested he’d been preparing himself for this moment, to no avail, and if that were true, you were thankful. At least then you’d be in the same boat. In a second, a mere tick of a clock’s hand, he was back to his usual self, pushing a large smile atop his pillowy lips.

“Hello, y/n. How have you been?” His voice was soft as he closed the door behind him, the hand that wasn’t clutching a stack of papers flicking on a second set of lights. In an instant the room was engulfed in pale yellow hues, your eyes blinking to adjust. He walked the distance from the door to his desk, letting the pile of papers fall down with a dull thud.

“Could be better, could be worse.” You murmured, still feeling like a deer in headlights. He nodded at this, almost as if he silently understood, agreed even. You didn’t know whether you should stay rooted beside his desk or take a seat, body itching for another of his commands. You hated how badly you wanted him to tell you what to do and how to do it, no matter if it were a simple seating arrangement or one of his filthy, guided masturbations.

“That’s a start, hopefully by the end of the session we can turn it around?” He spoke, tone as level as it had always been, though you noticed how quickly his eyes seemed to wander. It had been impossible last time to look anywhere but him, that intentional and scrutinising stare holding yours for what felt like eternities. His gaze was scattered now, moving from your face to his desk and back again, fingers re-arranging his already neat desk as if attempting to regain control.

But, regain control of what? His thoughts, his racing heart, his body? You wanted to know. You wanted to crack him open, let the secrets spill from him like yolk. You wanted to study his mind the way he studied you. It was intoxicating, the mystery that still surrounded him. So intoxicating that you were starting to find you didn’t need to get lost in the shadows of his stare, only needed to be close enough to feel the palpable energy, the magnetic charge, that radiated from him like the sun’s unbearable warmth.

“Should we get started?” He asked, brown eyes leaving the surface of his immaculate desk to search your expression. You nodded, pushing a smile atop your lips as you moved toward the leather chairs, slouching into yours right away.

You noticed he wasn’t wearing that same dark suit this time, instead he wore a crisp white dress shirt with a few too many buttons undone at the top. The bottom part of it was tucked half-hazardly into a pair of tight ebony trousers. It didn’t remain that way for long. With a raise of his hand–fingers combing through dark curls–one side fell from its confines, a slither of pale skin meeting your hungry gaze. You swallowed, drawing your eyes from his figure as it drew nearer to you, stopping only when he reached the chair opposite you.

“Shall we start with an update?” He questioned, taking a seat while his hand tightened around that same large ipad. “How have you been doing, did you manage to climax again?”

“No.” You admitted right away, head shaking in disappointment. It was hard to hide how frustrating it was, even more now than before. At least prior to your first happy ending you were none the wiser to how much greener the grass truly was on the other side. Now you’d grazed in it, tasted it, felt it between your fingers and toes. How could you ever return to astro turf after you’d experienced the real thing?

“No?” Chan looked surprised at this, chin tilting to the side as he drank in your expression. You were sure you looked anything but pleased, brows furrowed as you shook your head no once more. “Okay, did you follow the routine?”

“I did, yeah.” You mumbled, digits playing with the pleats in your skirt.

“What do you think was different?” He asked, looking genuinely curious by your dilemma.

“Do I even have to say it?” You released a huff of air, heart jumping nervously behind its skeletal confines.

“It would help if you did. Guessing games can lead to miscommunications.” HIs smile was back, dimples pressed prettily against his plush cheeks. How badly you wanted to cup them, how badly you wanted to let the pads of your thumbs brush against the indents that dotted them. How badly you wanted him.

“I just… I feel like I need your help, you helped so much that time… ever since I haven’t managed it, I mean, what does that tell you?” You asked, heart racing a little faster now, hands growing clammy; thoughts scrambling as you felt your frustration grow. Your situation felt so hopeless, so entirely unfixable. It shouldn’t hurt, but it did. It always would.

So many past relationships flashed across your mind, so many times when you’d watched the partners in your life walk away. Their promises that you’d never be too much, that there was no storm you couldn’t weather together, ground to dust beneath their retreating steps. There had been other issues that ended the relationship of course, not this one, never this one. Yet it still seemed so unbelievably ironic how, try as they might, they never could fix this little problem. How laughable it was that Chan had managed within hours of meeting him.

“You- you need my help with climaxing?” He seemed taken aback, his innocence almost sending your eyes rolling. How could he be so surprised? Had he not been on that phone call with you after all, had that all been a vivid dream?

“I think so, yeah.” You opted to speak instead, fingers still playing lazily with your clothing in search of some relief from the awkwardness of the conversation.

“I’m sure you just need a little direction and practice.” He shook his head, ever the dismissive party out of the two of you. But you knew better now. You’d heard the way he fell apart, heard the things he’d said when all resolve had vanished. He was just as depraved, just as desperate and needy but he hid it well. He cowered behind fabricated boundaries, crossing one and then inventing another. He pushed, and he pushed, but he always found a new way to hold back. You wanted to test that, wanted to make him snap. Was that bad?

“I’m twenty-five Chan, I think if practice was going to do it I’d have done it by now.” You shook your head, tone uncharacteristically sarcastic as you let your frustrations slip. He winced at this, taken aback by the change in your tone. Easily your annoyance dampened, sigh falling from your lips as quickly as your apology “I’m sorry, that was– I’m just– I feel defeated.”

“It’s understandable, you don’t need to apologise.” Chan offered you a comforting smile, eyes glimmering with a patient understanding that had you thawing instantly.

“Can’t you just, I don’t know, tell me what to do. Like give me some direction or something.” You asked, trying to pry more solutions from his all-knowing brain.

“Like on the phone?” He questioned, palm gliding across his thick thigh as he spoke. You couldn’t help the way your gaze followed its movement, long fingers instantly taking you back to that night. You pictured them wrapped around his length, the wet sound of his desperate, thrusting grip, too much to think about right now. You squirmed in your seat, thighs pushing together in momentary distress.

“Yeah like then, is there more I can do?” You asked, trying to hide your growing weariness behind another frustrated huff.

“Perhaps you need to focus on finding ways to relax, maybe you have a problem switching off, moving from one task to the other. If you’re still tense when you’re masturbating then it can be hard to let yourself go.” He was so composed, seemingly so unaware of the way you were breaking down internally. How did he do it? How did he look at you with such easy indifference after that night. Maybe he was just that; indifferent. Maybe you’d been looking at this all wrong.

“Okay.” You shrugged, barely listening by now.

“You don’t look happy with that.” Chan pushed for an answer, clasping his apple pen a little tighter in anticipation of your response.

“I’m not patient enough. I guess I just hoped that it was fixed. But, now I have to get used to the idea of this being some long healing journey as if I haven’t had enough of those. As if I haven’t–fucking–read enough–fucking–self-help books or listened to enough ‘all you need is recharged rose quartz and you’ll be fine’--fucking–influencers.” You felt your hands grip at your forehead in defeat, palms attempting to erase the tension that settled there through half-hazard motions. You wanted to laugh at the way you got so easily wound up, but the idea of starting yet another ‘healing era’, felt suffocating, impossible even.

How much more growing was there to do? Some people say it never stops, but you’ve had a lifetime of it. A lifetime of people pointing out your flaws, telling you what was wrong or what needed fixing. You’ve had a lifetime of changing everything about you until something felt right, like a puzzle piece clicking into place. A lifetime of trying to do everything right just to be told you were doing it wrong, anyway. You weren’t emotional enough, then you were too emotional. You were loud, then too quiet. You were rude, then you were compliant. It took reaching your twenties to realise you didn’t really care who you were, or how you acted, as long as you were happy with yourself.

It felt freeing, so entirely exhilarating to feel as if you were done changing, morphing and growing into someone else’s idea of a normal human woman. It matched you well, but it was also tiring. You’d grown to be independent far younger than you probably should’ve, your therapist said it built character, you thought that was stupid even at ten years old. Having a childhood built character, having healthy relationships and good role models; that was what you needed. People’s incessant criticisms had felt like the only freedom from your independence for so long; the only time you weren’t thinking for yourself. Bittersweet was the lingering feeling that remained for a few years after your new found self-assurance.

It was stupid, to crave something that had been so toxic, but that was just so unequivocally you. Hate something with every fibre of your being when you had it just to miss it when it was gone. Didn’t matter how much it hurt you, didn’t matter that it damn nearly killed you, only the good parts of it remained in its absence. The ghosts of memories even your unrelenting, self-sabotaging brain forgot. Were those the causes of your dissociation? The fragmented memories of times gone by, the missing pieces still stashed away in some untravelled corner of your mind?

“These things do take time, yeah.” Chan pulled you from your thoughts, tugging a sigh from your lips as you shook your head in defeat.

“Fuck that, there’s gotta just be something in me that doesn’t work, right? Like there’s just a part of me that can’t do it and I’m gonna have to just live with that.” Your arms raised in exasperation, frustrated rambles not phasing him in the slightest. You figured that shouldn’t surprise you, despite everything that had transpired between you, despite how unlikely it sometimes seemed, he was a therapist. A person you were paying to listen to you speak. A person you had essentially paid to make you cum. Jesus.

“But you did.” He countered.

“No, you did.” You reminded him, his brows rising at the implication.

“That was all you, I just helped.” He shook his head, dismissive once more.

“Can’t you help me again, then? Just tell me what to do, show me. Make that part of me wake the fuck up and realise it has a job to do. Fix me again.” You murmured helplessly, searching his mind for something, anything that could ease your anguish.

“You want that? You want me to teach you? You want me to fix you?” He spoke after a beat of silence, plump mouth emphasising your latter sentiment. A switch had seemingly been flipped in him, reminding you of his faltering resolve from a month ago. You were sure it was your imagination–after all he was so quick to collect himself–but that was expected, you didn’t know him well enough. You didn’t know how badly he yearned to ‘fix you’.

There was a saying that went along the lines of this; therapists need therapy the most The first part of their adult lives were dedicated to learning the secrets of the mind, just to spend the rest of it fixing other people’s. The perfect distraction; fix others so you don’t have to fix yourself. Yeah, that was him. Finding distraction after distraction to avoid the complicated mess in his own brain. But that wasn’t just it. No, Chan was a people pleaser, a man so desperate to be needed that he put his heart in danger every single fucking time.

He’d lost count by now, the amount of times he’d run in blindly; falling for a pretty girl with pretty problems. A pretty girl with a pretty smile and a pretty big hole in her pretty heart. He did it every single time. He’d never mixed work with self-sabotage though, this was unchartered territory. But that was then, one slip up, one mistake made in the heat of the moment. How could he not? You were so pretty, sounded so pretty pleading for him to help you. Not even he had the patience for that.

“Yes.” You breathed out, eyes turning wide and expectant beneath his weighted retort. There you were again, looking hopeful, as if he really did have the power to cure you. But he didn’t, Chan had learned that again and again; he couldn’t change the last girl, or the girl before, or the girl before that and he couldn’t change you. Not like this anyway, not through lust or–heaven forbid–love. Growing attached, letting them be dependent, it was bad in the end; always bad, never good like he’d intended.

“I can’t, you’re not broken.” He assured you, not a drop of insincerity mixing with the honey sweet tone of his soft voice.

“Then pretend I am and fix me anyway– break me just to put me back together again– I don’t care, just please do something to make it stop.” You felt a little frantic now: he wasn’t giving you the answers, wasn’t providing solutions. Was it really that hopeless? Were you really this cursed? Knowing that the cure was right in front of you, within arms reach, but too far to hold. Too distant and closed off, too unwilling to give you what you know you needed.

Were you crazy for thinking he wanted it to, were you delusional for thinking you could see the fire in his eyes every time you reached for him with words? The air around you didn’t lie though, did it? Or were you the only one feeling that constant chemical reaction that surrounded you both. That fizzle and burn, that electric fever that drove you crazy; depriving you of clean, pure air with every breath. It was filling your lungs with hot embers, you could feel it, could feel the way it choked you of all sense and left only desire in its place. Could he really not feel it too?

“Make what stop, love?” The nickname wasn’t lost on you, its presence sent a ripple of hope across your skin, igniting goosebumps in its path.

“I don’t know, everything I guess. The boredom, the anxiety, the noise, the frustration, the emptiness; all of it went away that night and I’ve been trying to get back there ever since.” You admitted, teeth gnawing at your lip, brows scrunched together in frustration. Chan thought you looked utterly pitiful in the hottest way. Was that possible? To look pathetic and undeniably attractive all at once. Yeah, it was; you were.

“I can’t cure you, you know that right? You have to do that on your own.” He insisted. It was true, wasn’t it? Historically speaking, practically speaking. People can’t change other people, that was how it worked right? They had to change on their own, grow alone, love themselves before they could learn to love someone else. If they didn’t, they’d be forever codependent, clinging to the sun that helped them grow into a fully flourished person. But the sun went down, it didn’t stick around forever; he couldn’t stick around forever.

“But what if…”

“I can’t.” He was quick to cut you off, not wanting to fill your head with pointless sentiments of hope. Whether he wanted to or not, whether you wanted to or not, you had to stand on your own two feet. He knew this to be true more than ever when it came to your own pleasure. You couldn’t depend on him for that; he couldn’t fill the void. He’d fall in love too easily, catch feelings in an instant. How could he ever make it out of that alive? It wasn’t right, you deserved better. Deserved to know your own body, how it felt, what made you feel good.

“Try?” You spoke, voice barely above a whisper, eyes wide and pleading.

“I can’t.” He huffed through gritted teeth, jaw stiff with useless restraint.

“Please?” You looked at him as if he held the world and all its mysteries in his grasp, ready to hand them over if only you could wear him down enough. It wasn’t not working, he hated to admit.

“Don’t… don’t do that.” He shook his head, eyes dipping to the ipad in his grip as he drew mindless patterns across its slick screen. It was enough to distract him for a moment, but not long enough.

“So, I just, I just go home and try the same shit again then is that it? Another month of nothing? Or can I call again, would you pick up if I did?” Your words had his cock twitching, palms growing clammy. That night haunted him. It felt so wrong, so completely fucked up. He lay awake for nights after that wondering if he should resign, turning his dream of owning a successful therapeutic clinic into a distant memory with the same stroke. But more than that, he wondered if you’d call again. Would you need him some more? Would you lean on him a little longer? Was it really true that he was the missing piece? That only he could make you cum.

“You know I would.” He responded in an instant, too quick in fact. “I’m surprised you didn’t call, to be honest.” He chuckled, attempting to seem unaffected. As if he hadn’t been waiting by the phone every evening, as if he hadn’t checked and re-checked for missed calls when sleep didn’t come to him easily.

“I wanted to try on my own; I’m really trying.” You half-whined and that sound alone was enough to have every noise from a month ago flooding his mind at once. His hips shifted, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

“I know, baby, you’re so good.” He sighed, resolve slipping; gaze darkening along with it. You saw it happen right in front of you, pupils dilating, mask slipping from his handsome face. “How about this… You show me how you do it at home and I’ll see if there are areas for improvement?” Chan suggested, against what he knew to be his better judgement. Fuck it, though, right? He could cross another line, just one more, find a new one to draw between you to keep you at arms length. You’d seen right through him in that regard, knew exactly how he justified each gradual crawl toward your eagerly awaiting form.

“You want me to… now?” You blinked, fireworks erupting in the pit of your stomach signaling an internal celebration of what you were almost sure was a triumphant victory.

“Isn’t that what you want? To make a mess of my chair? To cum again?” His words sent a jolt of something electric and sweet straight to your core. Your teeth felt like blades, threatening to draw blood from the plump flesh of your bottom lip as you nodded wordlessly, too turned on at the prospect of getting to climax again to formulate a coherent sentence.

“Why don’t you lift that little skirt of yours and show me how you pleasure yourself.” His voice was low, impossibly dark gaze studying you with an almost predatory stare. Your nerves stood alert like the hairs of your arm, hands moving at their own accord. You moved the hem of your skirt up the meat of your bare thighs, his eyes following your motions closely before fixing on the sheer fabric of your damp panties.

You felt like an imposter in your own skin as you spread your legs, circling the pads of your fingers across your clothed clit in compliance. You tried to stop the heat from rising in your cheeks, from pulsing through your blood like lava, the molton toxicity wetting your panties even more. You were helpless to it; the growing intensity of your lust. It was strange, the combination of embarrassment mixed with desire. It felt like a dangerous cocktail, one destined to leave you with a hangover unlike any other you’d felt; a banging headache, a sick feeling, a desperation for a wellness you could never reach without it.

Was that what this was? A growing addiction? An inability to feel better without him, or an unwillingness to find an alternative cure? You pushed the thoughts from your mind, easily too with the help of his sultry voice, though all the same the bubbling of nervousness remained.

“This is how you do it? What’s rule number one? What did we do last time?” He asked, too put together considering the pornographic movie that was playing out in front of him. His eyes told a different story though, hungry and feverish as you moved your fingers clumsily.

“Umm, take my clothes off?” You managed between huffs of impatient air, wanting nothing more than to skip to the part where your toes were curling, head tipped back in reticent ecstacy. You moved your hands away from your clothed cunt, starting to remove the tight fitting crop top a strap at a time. You watched his jaw grow slack at this, your confidence growing in place of the initial uncertainty.

You put on a show for him, suddenly abandoning the idea of being taught the ways of your pussy in favour of winding him up. Both straps fell past your shoulders, the rough material of your tiny top grazing your perky nipples as you dragged it down your chest, letting your plump breasts spill out from beyond its fabric confines. His brow twitched, lips faltering along with it as he watched the bounce of your tits.

“Mhm and start with your nipples, make them feel good, work yourself up.” Pulling your top off completely, you followed his demands, fingers tugging at your hardening buds. You remembered his advice from the last time, making sure to wet your digits with your tongue in a slow sinful motion. This earned a half moan from the man, his body shifting as he hid his faltering confidence behind a closed fist. With his chin resting against it, he gazed at you through his lashes, watching every pinch and tug with a hawk-like intensity.

“I’m already so worked up.” You groaned, unable to hold his heated glare any longer. You lulled your eyes toward the wet patch growing in your panties, pussy clenching around nothing at the sight of it.

“I make you worked up?” He mused, leaning forward in interest. Leveled as his voice remained, his restless form gave him away; dilated pupils darting between your hard nipples and your soaked underwear. His bottom lip caught between his teeth, moan designed behind a cough at your response.

“Yeah, so bad.” You mewled, one hand traversing the expanse of your smooth skin until your fingers met with the pool of sticky wetness between your thighs. You pulled at the band of your panties, sighing at the feeling of the tight fabric squeezing against your sensitive clit. You watched his expression as you drank in every movement, the obvious stiffness mounting in his crotch area not going unnoticed by you.

You wondered what it would take to have him desperate for his own release again, enough to disregard every one of his frivolous boundaries until his head was too clouded with intoxicating lust to draw a new line between you.

“Don’t focus on me, focus on yourself and your body.” It was almost like he knew, as if he could read your mind; could sense the way it reeled with thoughts of him and him alone. You tugged at your panties again, focusing on the movement of your fingers as they swirled around your excited nipple. “That’s good, don’t be shy now, you weren’t shy last time.”

“You couldn’t see me last time.” You murmured, the tips of your ears and apples of your cheeks the same shade of crimson.

“You’re beautiful, don’t be embarrassed.“ Chan shook his head, shifting in his seat once again. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get comfortable, not when the growing ache in his pants became harder and harder to ignore. “Now do what we did last time, feel what works best for you, take your time.”

“This?” You questioned, fingers pulling your panties aside as strings of sticky cum followed suit. You touched your bare clit with care, jolting and wincing with each caress. You were so sensitive, so turned on by the intent stare he fixed on your soaked cunt. You traced a finger down the seam of your pussy, rubbing the thick, juicy substance across your bundle of nerves in a clockwork motion.

“Yeah, that’s right, feel yourself.” He drew a breath, tongue darting across his lips, hands not sure what to do with one another as he watched the sight play out in front of him. “That’s good, does that feel good?” Chan questioned, slouching back in his chair as if the increased distance would afford him some alleviation from your mesmerising performance.

“Yeah, I think so.” You retorted, repeating the back and forth between your clit and dampening folds. You teased your entrance with the gentle prod of your fingers, tight clenching accompanying each experimental push.

“Do what makes you feel good, learn what you like.” It was unbearable how calm he was, a whine leaving your lips as his professional tone.

“How.” You murmured, the strumming of your clit increasing in speed as you felt a pleasurable sensation begin to wash over you.

“Try new things, keep touching yourself–why don’t you take those panties off and give your pussy a slap.” You nodded, eagerly complying with his wishes as you pulled your panties down your legs letting the sheer fabric pool at the base of your chair. You placed your skirt there too, completely bare save the pair of kitten heels snug around your feet.

“What?” The second part of his statement had you puzzled though, or perhaps it was just the intense feeling of being exposed in front of a person who was not only fully clothed but seemingly unbothered. Yeah, maybe that was it; that would be enough to have anyone confused and uncertain.

“You like it rough don’t you? Smack your pussy, give your clit a spanking for me.” His words had your hips shifting, a moan tumbling from your lips. Everything sounded better coming from his full mouth, the gravel tone interlaced with his thick accent–it was unbearable.

“Like this?” You questioned, landing a smack against your sensitive clit. Both of you moved in sync, hips shifting at the shrill noise your palm made abusing your sensitive nub. Your face screwed up at the feeling, the delightful sting accompanied by another wave of self-satisfaction.

“Harder.” He growled, moan mingling with his next words. “Yeah, you like that? I can see how wet you are, keep spanking your pretty little cunt.” You complied, strings of whines and groans following each harsh slap.

“You’re making me this wet.” You mewled, expression still contorted in pleasure. Chan wasn’t sure how he’d expected to make it through this entire ordeal, that had been foolish thinking on his part. He hadn’t expected you to be so brazen though, both nervous in your disposition but shameless in your filthy words and actions. His cock was impossibly hard in his pants now, hand itching to relieve the tension.

“Fuck don’t say that, gonna have to learn how to make yourself cum when I’m not around.” He insisted, though in truth you were saying all the right things to morph him into malleable putty, substance perfect for the palms of your hands; mass supple enough to wrap around your finger. “That’s good, yeah that’s good fuck you’re clenching around nothing.”

“Wanna be full.” You whined, pinching and rubbing at your clit with a rise and fall of your hips. You could tell the chair beneath you was drenched by now, the surface becoming slippery beneath your clammy thighs.

“Fuck yourself with your fingers, start with one and keep adding as many as your greedy little cunt needs to feel full.” His resolve was slipping, you could tell, could connect the dots from that night a month ago. It filled you with confidence, had your heart racing and limbs squirming as you rubbed your clit more furiously.

“Not gonna be enough.” You shook your head, hoping, so intensely, that he would just give up and finish you himself. You could practically sense it, the way his fingers would make you feel, the sharp rush of intense white light that bubbled up with every thrust of his skilled digits. How perfectly they’d fill your tight hole, stretching you open as if preparing you for his fat cock. You slid a finger inside, feeling empty despite the new intrusion.

“You just need to learn how to make yourself feel good baby, curl your fingers, do a scissor motion, whatever makes you feel the best.” He was still instructional in his method, but he looked anything but the calm teacher he’d been previously. Chan was leant forward now, tongue poking out his mouth, elbows propped on his knees as he watched you intensely.

“How?” You questioned, brows scrunched.

“How, what baby? Use your words.” He asked, his palms rubbing together in a useless attempt to distract his mind from the ache in his pants.

“How do I make it feel good, sir.” You elaborated, pushing another finger inside your convulsing pussy.

“Fuck, god, gonna make me crazy if you keep that up.” He run a hand through his hair, hips rising from the chair. His dark hair looked a mess by the time his fingers were done combing and tugging with restraint. You didn’t think it was possible for him to look any sexier, but his disheveled appearance proved otherwise.

“Please.” You implored, the steady back and forth of your fingers slowing to a standstill at his next words.

“You want me to show you, yeah?” He licked his lips shamelessly at you, hungry eyes awaiting your response with uninhabited lust.

“Yes, please, so bad.” You mused, squirming in your chair at the prospect of his fingers tucked snugly inside your needy pussy. You hoped this wasn’t a dream, that you weren’t about to jolt awake to the shrill sound of your alarm clock.

“Beg, show sir how badly you want his fingers inside you.” He murmured, jaw clenching at the sight of your pussy as it squeezed around nothing. “Keep circling your clit, yeah, keep going.” He commanded you, and without hesitation you followed.

“Please, please, want you to fill me so bad, please sir- please.” You keened, fingers toying frantically with your bundle of nerves.

“That’s it baby, keep getting yourself off, you're doing such a good job on your own.” He licked his lips again, chest heaving with every circular motion. You pushed your fingers back between the snug walls of your cunt, moving your hips to accompany the thrust of your digits.

“I need more, please.” You wailed, the edge you’d wanted to revisit so badly gradually inching into view.

“You really want my help, baby?” He asked, almost as if he were undecided. That couldn’t be it, though. There was no conceivable way Chan could doubt your desire to have him, in whichever way he was willing to give. He wanted to hear you beg some more, didn’t he? Wanted to hear just how badly you needed him, as if seeing it wasn’t enough.

“Please.” You gave him what he wanted, putting on your best forlorn expression to better your chances. It worked, a little too well judging by the haphazard way he fell to his knees in front of you. Whatever glimmer of self-discipline he’d been clinging to, it was gone now, and in its place: a man starved.

“You’ll tell me if you wanna stop, can you do that for me?” He looked up at you with hopeful eyes, his final attempt at giving you an out. An insincere part of him hoped you would, that you’d be the one to grasp ahold of your better sensibilities and put an end to your affair. But you didn’t, of course not, you never would, would you? He doubted it, not when your gaze exuded a level of desperation he was sure he’d only seen in wild animals. Instead, you nodded, teeth claiming your bottom lip as you did so. “Good girl.”

Chan wasted no time sliding a finger inside your warm walls, a drawn out groan falling from his lips at the spongy grip that took a hold of his digit. His hips shifted compulsively as you tightened around him, a second finger inching its way in as he studied every rise and fall of your expression. Another moan from your lips–another half-grunt, half-groan from his own. He pushed his digits deeper, thrusting them in and out at a steady pace, letting his knuckles brush against your velvety clit.

“Ugh, that’s good.” You practically screamed out, head tipping back with a wide open-mouthed grimace; face contorted in unimaginable pleasure. How was it possible to feel this good? You thought you’d reached the maximum capacity for bliss that night, but Chan was showing you an entirely new palette of gratifying hues.

“Barely touching you, darling. So desperate, hmm? Not been able to get off without me? Need me that badly?” He mewled, lips pressing wet, desultory kisses to your shoulder and collarbone. Your body twitched and seized beneath him, eyes rolling back at the sensation of his plump mouth against your hypersensitive skin. Every nerve felt as if it were going haywire, every brush of his bony flesh against your clit feeling like a rush of adrenaline. It was then that he did something truly toe-curling, the sudden feeling of something prodding at just the right angle inside of your tight walls; it had your spasming wildly beneath him.

“Yeah I need you, need you to make me cum–need your cock in me, want you to stretch me out.” You sang in between moans, hands clinging to his clothed shoulders, nails latching onto him harshly.

“Fuck, baby, slow down. Gonna take my time; you gotta take your time.” He panted, dark eyes finding yours in among the thick haze of lust that consumed you both. It had you moaning even louder, the combination of his intoxicating stare and that unidentifiable sensation threatening to push you over the edge prematurely.

“Oh god, so much better.” You whined, tears filling your eyes, forehead shifting to press against his own as you clung to him for dear life. The warmth that radiated from his body was like a balmy embrace, the rousing scent of his cologne only adding to the numbing of your senses. He smelled incredible; expensive and masculine but with an undertone of something musky and thrilling. You wanted more of it, more of him. Wanted to taste him, to feel his cock pushed so far past your walls you could feel him rearranging your guts; the head of his member visibly prodding at the pit of your stomach. You wanted his mouth on yours, tongue exploring the inside of your mouth until he’d discerned every inch of you, top to bottom.

You felt safe beneath his strong body, the hand that wasn’t busy splitting your open prying at your thigh until he managed to hook a leg over his shoulder. You felt your head fall back again, eyes squeezing shut as he sped up his pace, the room filling with the sound of your drenched pussy. The squelching was so lewd, so loud that you were sure you’d cum from that alone. Could feel it in the way your cunt clenched again and again, sucking his digits in and refusing to let them free.

“That’s ‘cause I’m curling them. Feel the difference?” He murmured, tone the only thing calm about him now. Looking down at him, you saw the frazzled expression painted across his handsome face, the frantic look in his eyes underpinning that same predatory stare. “Mmm fuck– gonna find your g-spot; gonna make you scream.”

“Chan, fuck, please.” You wailed, hips bucking upwards in motion with his thrusts. He pushed you down with his free hand, cheek pressing against the meat of your leg as he watched you intently. His attentive stare didn’t last long, though, not when your pussy was putting on such a pretty show for him. His arm was soaked, the chair beneath you was drenched, juices pooling on the floor by your clothes.

“So hot–stay still for me baby, did I hit the spot?” You could only nod now, moans coming out in pitchy screams as you bucked against his firm palm, desperately trying to fuck yourself with his fingers. You couldn’t describe it, the pleasure that was building inside of you, the edge that was careening so close to your helpless, frantic body that you could taste your orgasm on the tip of your tongue.

“Yeah, think so, oh god, oh my god.” You found your words at last, whining disapprovingly when his fingers left your needy pussy empty in favour of pushing past his plump mouth. Your gaze drank him in as he did so, watching with narrowed eyes as he sucked on them. It was slow and erotic and downright torturous, a string of desperate moans tumbling from his glistening pink lips.

“Fuck you taste so good, let me taste you properly, please can I?” Apparently it was his turn to beg, his nose nuzzling against the inside of your thigh as he adjusted the leg propped atop his shoulder.

“Please, please, do whatever you want, own me.” You nodded frantically, wanting nothing more than to return to that blissed out state you’d been so caught up in.

“You want me to make this pussy mine, for real? Want me to fuck you rough like the slut you are?” You wanted him to mean what he was saying, but something told you he wasn’t. That was as a line you were certain he wouldn’t cross, not for now anyway, but you could live with that. A sentiment that rang even truer when you felt the rough texture of his tongue against your puffy, sopping cunt.

The reverberation of his moans only added to the intense wave of pleasure that overcame you, his frenzied ministrations causing your hips to buck, thighs closing around his head. He took it all, licking up and down your pussy as if lapping up your juices. Whatever lesson this was supposed to teach you about masturbation, you didn’t know, and you weren’t about to question him about it, not when you switched to burying his face in your leaking pussy, tongue fucking you with purpose as his nose prodded your swollen clit.

“Yes, please, sir–ruin me.” You grabbed ahold of his hair, earning another moan from the man as he continued devouring your drenched cunt. Every time he lapped at your sweet juices, more poured from your clenching hole, his tongue drinking up every last drop as he shifted between your entrance and your sensitive nub.

“Fuck this isn’t good.” He groaned, breathing out words in the short amount of time he spent away from your pussy; allowing him mere moments to suck in oxygen before he dove back in. “We shouldn’t be doing this, baby, you’re driving me crazy.”

“Ugh, that feels so fucking good.” This time he focused his mouth on your clit, lips wrapping around your bud as he pushed his fingers inside of you, thrusting in knuckles deep with a pace that bordered on animalistic. Your fingers gripped his hair just as aggressively, hips moving at their own accord as you felt the edge of your orgasm hurtle towards you.

“Good keep going, use my fingers fuck yes.” He moaned, breaths coming out in desperate pants against your sensitive clit. The gentle push of air paired with his relentless thrust of his fingers against your g-spot was enough to have you screaming, head falling backward, cunt convulsing as you felt that white light begin to encase you.“Shit you’re cumming so soon? Oh fuck, yeah, fuck, so messy.”

“Fuck, please, keep going– no why did you stop?” That feeling you’d been so frantic to chase, the bright, welcoming light that you’d been so ready to rush toward was ripped from you the moment his fingers exited your clamping walls. You looked at him in disbelief, body spent, skin aglow with sweat.

“It's your turn, do what I did.” He rejoindered.

“No, no please” You shook your head, tears welling over as you pleaded with him to give you release. This was bordering on mean, knowing how frustrated and desperate you were to feel that warm white release only to pry it from your begging hands.

“Come on pretty girl, you got this. Let me help you.” His palms ran comforting patterns across your skin, face still level with your pussy as his breath fanned across your sensitive core. You twitched beneath him, stare holding his own in hopes your beseeching eyes could reason with him.

“Not the same.” You murmured, shaking your head once more.

“Don’t be greedy now, come on.” He spoke, landing a slap against your clit in warning. Your hips jumped, sensitive pussy clenching around air as you greedily accepted your punishment. Despite your momentary disobedience, you followed his request, pathetic fingers moving down between you both to begin thrusting in and out of your weeping hole. “Good girl, keep going.”

“Need yours.” You sobbed, the feeling of your digits nowhere close to the pleasurable strokes of his thick, veiny hand.

“Hmm, why don’t we try a new toy? See if you can make yourself cum like that?” He suggested, and how he’d managed to maintain any semblance of his role as your sex therapist after annihilating your pussy with his pretty lips, you had no idea. Truly the man was a saint, he hadn’t even touched his hard cock once, too busy pleasuring you to even notice the impossibly tight feeling in his pants.

“Okay…” You agreed, body beginning to ache with fatigue.

“Keep playing with yourself, slap that pretty little clit around while I find a toy for baby girl to play with.” Chan commanded, and you obeyed.

You watched him walk the short distance to his desk, opening one of the cupboards to look over a collection of unboxed sex toys. The consistent branding told you it was probably a sponsorship deal, a collaboration of sorts. But you didn’t pay the toys enough attention to confirm this, no, instead you watched the way his back flexed, vein hands tugging at a box before returning it to its home. It was utterly unfair how even the back of him could drive you crazy; everything about him was thick, masculine and oozing sex appeal. Yet despite the plumpness of his arms, thighs and ass, his waist remained tiny beneath the crisp fabric of his shirt. You wanted to see what lay beneath his tight-fitting clothing so badly, the thought enough to have your fingers speeding up in a newfound wave of ecstasy.

“What about this? Long like my fingers, that’s what you like right?” He returned with a different vibrator. Unlike the other one, this had some sort of vibrating node for your clit; making sure to stimulate every inch of you it could touch.

“Lemme show you how this works, okay? Gonna use it just like the vibrator, push it up as far as your little cunt can bear.” Chan grumbled, tongue licking his lips as he lowered himself to his knees again. Removing it from its packaging with ease, he pressed the velvety device against your desperate cunt, quizzical gaze searching for any signs of hesitation.

“I can take it all, please make me take it.” You were quick to retort, squirming in anticipation of what was to come. You hoped, no you prayed, that this time he’d make you cum, not stopping till your body was limp and spent, eyes rolled back in your head and screams so pitchy not a sound came out. You wanted that, you wanted that so bad.

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re all wound up baby, you sure you want that?” His voice was low, free hand coaxing your leg back over his shoulder as he peppered kisses to your inner thigh.

“Please, pretend it's your cock. How would you fuck me?” You whined, hands shifting to pinch at your nipples desperate for any form of release.

“No, no you can’t think like that baby.” He shook his head dismissively, using the toy to push up and down your gushing pussy, chuckling wickedly every time your body twitched.

“You want it too, don’t you? Wanna know what it’s like to fuck me? So do–” You couldn’t even finish getting the words out before he was shoving the toy into your needy hole with force, a dark expression atop his faltering features. “Yeah fuck, like that.” You screamed out, your pussy barely able to sheath the toy with how puffy and swollen your walls were.

“That feel good, baby?” He growled, teeth gritted as he pushed the device in and out of you with fever.

“So good.” You whimpered, bucking your hips in time with his thrusts.

“Gonna have to take over, you need to learn for yourself.” He reminded you, your head shaking in an instant.

“Not yet, keep going please.” You sobbed tearlessly, moans coming out in broken, melodic strings of half-cries and curse words.

“Haven’t even turned the vibrate on and you’re already clenching like a whore.” He tutted, tongue spilling from his lips as he got lost in your pleasure. It looked like he enjoyed this almost as much as you did, his brows furrowed in concentration as he took in every change in your expression.

“Can I touch you?” You whined out, hips bouncing in time with his expertly timed thrusts. Your hands reached out, starting to undo the buttons of his dress shirt with a growing desire to see him naked and exposed like you were. He didn’t show any resistance, even shuddering beneath the graze of your nails against his bare chest as you opened the unbuttoned top. He looked delectable; toned muscles flexing with every thrust of his arm.

“No, then I really will wanna fuck you.” He murmured, setting another boundary you had every intention of crossing; his forehead leaning down to press against yours, bodies as close as they could possibly be given the current position. His lust-filled gaze sparkled in the shadowed confines of your close faces, the soft whimpers and laboured breaths that left his parted lips sending your body into overdrive. You leaned forward to connect your lips, mouth ghosting over his for a nanosecond before he moved his face away from yours. You whined, aching to chase after him but opting to pry a little more instead.

“Will you touch yourself when it’s my turn then?” You questioned, hungry eyes searching his for any signs of defiance.

“You want that?” He whimpered, free palm pushing you down against the soaked leather chair once more, trying to keep your quivering body still beneath him.

“Yeah wanna hear you moan again.” You yelped, clenching again and again around the silicon toy, wanting more than anything to replace it with his meaty cock.

“Does that turn you on?” Chan asked, proud grin on his lips.

“So bad.” You murmured, head rolling back as you felt him graze against your g-spot with the tip of your new device. “Wanna watch your cock make a mess– oh my god I’m so close Channie~” He didn’t let you finish, turning the vibrator on mid sentence. The sudden change in sensation caused you to shake and convulse beneath him, creaming the toy with every pointed thrust he offered your greedy cunt.

“Yeah? Take over for me baby, fuck yourself like the depraved slut you are.” You could barely think straight, eyes glazed over with unadulterated, carnal desire.

“Fuck you’d break me open so good, want your cock so bad.” You mumbled, taking the toy from his grip to try and match his relentless pace. You weren’t even close, too tired, too rigid to compare.

“God, bet you do, never enough for your greedy little pussy is it? Just want more and more.” Chan mused, the sound of his belt clattering drawing your attention to his lower half. You watched eagerly, excitement growing with every push of his hands. He pulled his cock out hurriedly, leg still propped over his shoulder as he fisted the base of his cock.

You whined at the sight, free hand clawing at his half-clothed chest before gripping the meat of his upper arm. You hoped, pointlessly so, that the feeling of his toned muscle beneath your hold would ground you, keeping you steady as you worked yourself with the toy. The sight of him jerking desperately at his leaking cock, though, was far too compelling. Moans fell from his mouth, curse words interjecting every sinful noise.

You’d thought his pointed gaze was enough to hypnotise you, but the image of his stiff member as it oozed pre cum transfixed you in an entirely new way. You couldn’t look away, couldn’t tear your eyes from his thrusting hips and eager fist as it worked its way up and down his length. You were sure you’d not seen a cock quite as pretty as his, either. It wasn’t overly large but it was thick and veiny with an angry red tip that you knew would prod your cunt in all the right ways. You wanted it, you wanted him so bad. You were salivating at the thought, mouth gaping wide open at the prospect of it.

“Bet you’d fuck me dry, so desperate you’d milk my cock of every drop.” He groaned loudly, hips bucking into his first with an air of impatience.

“Yeah, want that so bad sir.” You could feel your high approaching once more, the edge coming into view in new and improved shades of technicolour bliss.

“That’s it, good girl, you’re doing so well.” He praised you, head lulling back as he hissed, teeth clenching, face scrunching; the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever seen. His adams apple bobbed, thick neck glistening with sweat as he squirmed, face falling to rest against your leg.

“Cum on me, in my mouth.” You pleaded, trying to match the rhythm of his thrusts, imagination fixing on the idea of it being him fucking you like this.

“Fuck that’s so hot, you’re so fucking hot.” He instantly complied with your wishes, hand abandoning his cock momentarily in favour of getting to his feet. He gently lowered the leg once propped atop his shoulder as he did so, discarding his trousers and underwear properly when he was stood. He was frantic in his motions, wanting nothing more than to dump his load on your pretty face.

Hovering over you, he watched as you eagerly opened your mouth, head angled to allow him to aim the tip of his length toward your lips. He hummed at the sight, face scrunching again as he began to fist at his cock. The wet sound of his cum streaking the length of his member had you keening, tongue darting out to lick at his tip desperately. He bucked his hips at the new sensation, shoving his cock closer to your mouth in the process. You kept lapping at his head, enjoying the salty taste of his cum as it hit your tongue–the bitter flavour pulling pornographic moans from your throat.

“Oh god that feels amazing. Yeah, keep doing that baby.” He too moaned, pumping his cock relentlessly while you leaned closer to him, sucking the head of his twitching member feverishly. “Such a good girl, yeah, your lips look so pretty around my cock baby.”

“More.” You begged, the initial taste of his salty cum enough to have you craving more. You wanted all of it, wanted to feel his mushroom tip abuse the back of your throat, wanted to choke on his fat cock until breath became a necessity. You were positive you’d see the white, orgasmic light then, when you were deprived of all air, forced to take in every inch of him until he was done using you for his own pleasure.

“No, don’t be greedy. Take what I give you and say thank you like a good slut.” He landed a slap against your cheek, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to sting and fuck it felt incredible.

“Mmm, thank you sir.” You whined, complying instantly, pussy clenching around the toy still thrusting in and out of your numb cunt. Your arms were in a similar position, movements growing sloppy and slow as you tried to chase your high through till the end.

“Good, now you gonna cum for me?” He asked, fucking his fist with the same fierce pace he’d gifted you. “Yeah, fuck you’re so hot.” He moaned, watching you struggle to pleasure yourself, movements ragged and desperate as you became unable to control your limbs.

“So close, so so so– please.” You cried out, riding the toy with one final push of determined energy.

“That’s it, keep fucking yourself. You’re so close, baby don’t give up now.” He moaned out, his own high building with every snap of your hips, the noises your mouth and pussy were making so sinful it had his eyes rolling back. He resisted though, keeping his well-trained eyes on your abused cunt. You were struggling, he could tell, something in you not quite snapping the way you clearly wanted it to. It wasn’t your fault, he’d tired you out by now; he blamed himself for that.

“Come on, you can do better than that. Like this baby.” He abandoned his own pleasure again, hand leaving his cock to replace yours. His pace was exactly what you needed, your body convulsing the moment he replaced your sloppy grip.

“Oh god, yes, please keep going.” You cried, almost scared he’d deny you again.

“Yeah? You gonna cum? Look at the mess you’re making pretty girl, fuck, I bet it tastes delicious.” He growled, pushing the toy as deep as your puffy cunt would allow, angle directed toward the extra-sensitive spot you seemed to love so much. “You’re taking it so well, such a good little slut.”

“I’m gonna cum.” You wailed, hand gripping his, half-reacting to the sudden feeling of overstimulation that washed over you, the part of the vibrator pressed against your clit sending you into spasms with every hard thrust.

“That’s right, come on baby, good girls cum– you’re my good girl aren’t you? Gonna cum like sir told you to?” He growled, the possessive tone that had overtaken him sending shockwaves across your limbs.

“Yeah, yeah fuck! I’m-” You didn’t have time to respond to his pleas before you were thrown from the edge, same white light blinding you in the process. You lost all feeling, all consciousness as you came, the explosions errupting throughout your spent body going unnoticed by your fucked out mind. Your chest heaved as you started to come to, hand still clamped around his now motionless wrist as his voice broke through your heavy breathing.

“Shit, you squirted everywhere baby. Fuck that’s so hot.” You whimpered, scrambling to sit up in embarrassment. You looked at the chair first, the leather slick with your release, but it wasn’t until you gazed at Chan that you saw the extent of it. His white shirt was dotted with wet spots, looking almost like the splatter of something colourless. His hand and arm were soaked, chest glistening too.

“Sorry.” You frowned, suddenly embarrassed by the mess you’d made.

“Shh, don’t be sorry, you did so well baby; look at you, so messy, so pretty.” He was quick to assure you, abandoning the vibrator in favour of cupping both your cheeks. You took each other in for a moment, no words spoken between you as your eyes lowered to his lips. One of his hands moved toward your chin, tugging our gaze upward again; not letting you linger with the thought of kissing him.

“Lemme make you cum.” You spoke after a beat in time.

“No, no lovely girl, you need to rest a second.” He smiled, pad of thumb caressing your plump bottom lip before he shifted, seemingly ready to clean you up and send you on your way. You weren’t ready for the moment to end, though. Couldn’t bear the thought of not getting to see him like this again for another month, or, god forbid, longer.

“Then use me to finish.” You reached for him, grabbing ahold of his wrist before his back could straighten, reaching his full height.

“Baby, fuck.” He moaned, clearly battling with the idea of you crossing yet another of his lines. He couldn’t blame you, not wholly anyway, he let you do it easily every time. Deep down he knew they were nothing but silly justifications; a safety net to fall back on when he broke every rule in the book.

“I want you to.” You assured him.

“This is supposed to be about you.” He shook his head.

“Then do it for me, use my mouth.” Your persistence seemed to be enough for him, still-hard cock twitching excitedly at the prospect.

“Get on your knees.” His eyes darkened, turning to face you properly as he watched you position yourself on the floor, obedient as ever. “That’s it, good girl.” He swallowed thickly, guiding you toward his painfully hard length. He tapped your outstretched tongue with the tip, wordlessly ordering you to open wide.

“Tastes so good sir.” You mewled as he slid the base of his cock along your tongue, moaning at the texture of your muscle against his veiny member. His patience, or whatever was left of it, was slipping away with every messy lick of your tongue, his hand shifting to grip your hair.

“Squeeze my thigh if it's too much, okay?” Your nod was enough to have him pushing his length past your parted lips, cock giving you no time to adjust as he pushed his hips forward. “Such an obedient little slut, aren’t you? Touch your clit for me, want you cumming with my cock shoved down your throat.” He growled, pushing his length as far down your throat as your tight mouth would allow.

“Oh fuck yeah, yeah, yeah that’s so– ohmygod you feel amazing.” You moaned the moment he afforded you a few seconds to breathe. Your fingers toyed with your clit just as he’d requested, but you were far too focused on swallowing his member to focus on the tingling feeling between your thighs.

“Bet your pussy feels better though, doesn’t it baby? Filled all the way up with my fat cock.” He grunted, grip in your hair tightening as he thrust his length past your lips harshly. You squealed at this, sound muffled by the back and forth of his cock as he used your throat to chase his own release. It was hard to focus his gaze as he pushed his cock all the way to the base, your nose pressing against his toned flesh as you gagged, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Are you crying? Yeah? Sir giving it to you too rough? This is what greedy girls get–a throat full of cock.” He growled, any hints of his prior softness dissipated with the tightening of your throat around his sensitive length. He started setting a pace, no longer mindlessly pushing you down his cock. Rather he pulled out of your swollen mouth, giving you a few seconds to breathe before he thrust in, repeating that motion again and again with a frenzied persistence. If he had any doubts about your feelings on the matter, your soaked cunt gave it all away.

“God your pussy is drenched, sounds so good. Does it feel good, baby? Getting mouth fucked while you play with your little cunt for me?” He moaned, fucking your face with a new found fever, his approaching high numbing his senses until all that remained was the sound of your wet pussy clenching around nothing and the feeling of your tight throat seathing his desperate cock. In all of the blissful chaos though, the man couldn’t help but take pity on you; the tears streaming down your cheeks, drool coating your chin, was enough to have him pulling out. You instantly gasped for air, forehead falling against his thigh as you caught your breath.

“Sit up baby, spread your legs. Gonna paint your pussy with my cum–gonna make it mine.” He instructed, helping you back atop the chair when you looked at him with pleading eyes. Your chest still rose and fell, gaze glossy with fresh tears as you whimpered, barely able to register the possessive way he wanted to claim you beneath your heavy fatigue.

“You gonna cum for me too, yeah? gonna fuck my cum inside you with my fingers while you play with your clit.” He was back to those sinful rambles, an apparent sign of his impending orgasm as he worked his cock, hovering above your spread legs while he watched you circle your clit violently. “Good girl, good girl, fuck.”

“Yeah fuck, mine, my good girl, looking so pretty for me.” His pace picked up, abs tensing with every twitch of his cock. His tip leaked with presumptive release, small bouts of thick cum running down the head, aided in its journey by the drying slick of your spit. “So useless without me aren’t you baby? Can’t do anything without me, need me so badly.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, oh god.” His words had you quickly barreling toward the edge again, consciousness slipping as you fell in and out of subspace.

“Say you’re mine.” He growled, face contorted in the hottest expression you’d ever seen. He looked determined, the first that fucked his cock thrusting at such a frenzied pace you wondered if it was painful. “Mmm” Was all you could manage, before a harsh slap to your cunt was enough to jolt you away from the fucked-out state you found yourself in.

‘Say it, slut.” He insisted.

“I’m yours, all yours; only yours. No one else can make me feel like this, not even me, this pussy belongs to you.” Your words were all it took, his entire body shifting, twitching and shaking at the sudden onset of his climax. His knees almost buckled, the half-awkward position causing his muscles to burn and tense as he milked his cock of its stringy cum. Moan after moan fell from his lips as he watched it splatter against your lower half, your hungry cunt clenching as the warm liquid painted your clit and abdomen.

Lowering to his knees again, he kept his promise, pulling your hand away from your puffy clit in favour of collecting up all the cum that settled on your skin, sticky substance coating two of his digits as he shoved it inside your overworked pussy. “Cum for me, come on. Don’t make me spank you again.”

You moaned out, shrill noise almost awakening his cock once again as he drilled your cunt with his fingers, pushing his cum as far into you as your swollen walls would allow. “Good girl, that’s a good girl; such a good little cum slut.” He cooed as you lost all control, body seizing beneath the weight of another orgasm; the wave of ecstasy so sudden and unexpected it stole the air from your lungs, the noise from your voice.

Chan rode you through your high, pressing kisses to every inch of your inner thigh, fingers slowing to a halt inside you. Sweet praises filled the air as he pulled his digits from your defeated cunt, palms rubbing soothing patterns against your skin. He kept this up until the ability to move seemed to finally return to your aching limbs, your body shifting to sit upright. Your breathing was laboured as his eyes leveled with yours, searching for any signs of pain or discomfort.

“Are you okay?” He asked, fingers back to tracing your skin affectionately; an action that felt just a little too sweet considering the events that had just transpired. You nodded, still not quite able to form words as you moved forward, pulling him into your embrace, desperate to lean on him for support. He let you, of course he did, arms wrapping around your fatigued body as he pulled you against him. Your head fell to the crook of his neck when you lowered from the chair, awkwardly positioned atop his kneeling form until he shifted to accommodate you.

For a moment you stayed like this, the sounds of your breathing the only thing breaking through the heavy silence. It gave you both time to think, to come down from your post-orgasm bliss and retrace the events of your appointment.

“Fuck, what are we doing.” Chan was the first one to speak, a heavy sigh pulled from his downturned lips.

“I don’t know but I don’t want it to stop.” You whispered, neither of you making any attempt to put distance between you.

“We have to.” His response was instant but insincere, there was no denying that now. Not even your anxiety could trick you into believing that Chan didn't want this.

“But do you want to?” You asked, making the first move as you pulled back to look him in the eyes. Maybe his mouth lied, but his gaze never could.

“...No. do you?” He said after a beat in time, large gaze studying you just as you did him. His palms moved to grip at your bare waist, a single hand shifting to run up and down your right side, tracing the curve of your hips as he waited expectantly.

You smiled, the fireworks that erupted behind every one of his caresses giving you the answer you'd been looking for: “Never.”

“Never?” Chan stared at you dubiously, hand stilling at this.

“Never.” You didn’t hesitate, head shaking. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, eyes flicking from feature to feature in search of any insincerity. He found none, only a flourishing of adoration that threatened to grow tucked behind your gaze.

He decided to believe you. You decided to believe it too–hoped so badly for it to be true–wanted so badly to have finally found the cure. Needed so badly for him to be the cure.

<< back to dash // next episode >>

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A/N: jfc i nearly didn't finish this in time oopsies! semi-unedited again so apologies for any sloppy writing in places. thank you all for 200 followers!! next chapter is due for release at the 350 milestone <3

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