#this is definitely one of my favorite ones i've written
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HEY EVERYONE!
big announcement 😍🥰🖤🖤❤️❤️💙🖤👀
well, not that big maybe, but it's really exciting to me cuz i love this one! I POSTED A NEW STORY ON AO3! more rambling in the tags, here's the link to read it! ❤️
#so the thing is sometimes i forget i post my writing online#and i have a lot of works on my laptop but i don't use my laptop as often as my phone#so often i forget about the ones on my laptp#aka i forgot i have 10k of kitten ash written#cuz i am absolutely obsessed with cat hybrid stories and started my own about ash a while ago#cuz there's simply not enough kitten ash content#like i've read maybe four#also this is my first time posting on ao3 before i out it on tumblr#i was posting one of my other stories on ao3 and then i wanted to keep writing since my laptop was already on now#and realized wait i can just post some of this👀👀😂#so i did!#this is definitely one of my favorite ones i've written#probably not everybody's cup of tea but i write gay smut lmao that's kinda the get go here😂#ok imma stop talking sit back relax and enjoy the show or don't#that was quoted from the 5sos show i hope someone got that😂#5sos masterlist#ao3#ashton irwin#5sos gay smut#5sos fanfic#ashton imagine#luke hemmings fanfic#ashton irwin fanfic#fluff
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Preparing myself to read a Persona 5 fic because it sounds super interesting but Maruki is a tagged character which means there's like a 70% chance that he's being mischaracterized
#if someone can recommend me fics where this Doesn't Happen i would be so glad#i will still read it either way but it's just a pet peeve#why can't y'all comprehend moral greyness#maruki ISN'T AN EVIL SUPERVILLAIN#HE'S NOT EVEN EVIL#i've written fics btw i'm not trying to sound ungrateful or anything. like i said i will read them#but it's not just with fics like he gets mischaracterized So Much from literally everywhere in the fandom#how did you play through the entirety of persona 5 royal and come to teh conclusion that maruki is an evil man#who manipulated teenagers because he is malicious and horrible#when the story quite literally tells you. that he is NOT an evil horrible person#i'm not gonna deny that he manipulated teenagers into playing into his plan but he is most definitely not evil#nor did he do it with malicious intent. nuance DOES MATTER 😃#persona 5#persona 5 royal#p5#p5r#takuto maruki#maruki takuto#fuck that teh up there i'm not going back to fix it i'll just sound like a cringe 13 year old on tumblr in 2014#i'm not saying you can't criticize him i'm saying that acting like he's evil on a shido level or even Near that is stupid#because. again. maruki is a morally grey antagonist. he is NOT MALICIOUS.#i notice it's usually akechi fans who do this because of akechi's attitude towards maruki in-game#akechi has been one of my favorite characters ever even since vanilla p5 when the ending to his character arc kinda sucked#but him being one of my favorite characters does not impact my ability to read analyze and comprehend text#i think the persona fandom in general should try it sometime 👍
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Leonhard Seppala, Disney’s Togo (2019)
#if you haven't seen this movie#go watch it#it's one of the most wholesome well written and well acted disney live action movies i've seen in a long time#and i mean that#and unsurprisingly#willem killed it#he was great#and his interactions with the dogs were so cute#like my freakin heart#🥺🥺🥺#i loved this movie#definitely one of my favorites from this marathon#leonhard seppala#togo (2019)#my blue eyed short king#willem dafoe
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: 名探偵ホームズ | Sherlock Hound, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mrs. Hudson (Sherlock Holmes), Lucy Munro (Sherlock Holmes), Polly (Sherlock Hound), James Moriarty, Smiley (Sherlock Hound), Todd | George (Sherlock Hound), Lestrade (Sherlock Holmes)
Additional Tags: very loosely inspired by, Story: The Adventure of the Yellow Face, Book: The Hound of the Baskervilles, Post-Apocalypse, but it was a massively long time ago, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Adoption, Found Family, my Sherlock Hound watch party group chat saw the episodes with the Mona Lisa and the angel statue, and we went mad from the implications, this is the result, what if you: wanted to write a short and sweet oneshot for Holmestice, but God said: sorry did you mean 8.5k of dog furries?, i think this fic legally qualifies as an isekai
Summary:
When a client tells Hound and Watson about sightings of a frightening yellow beast dwelling amidst the rural fog, they are prepared for everything from an elaborate hoax to one of Moriarty’s nefarious schemes.
They are not prepared for the child.
----
My Holmestice Winter 2023 gift for oui_oui! Enjoy your holidays!
#red writing#sherlock hound#sherlock holmes#john watson#mrs. hudson#holmeswatson#wow i forgot to make a tumblr post about it but i might as well#i spent WAY too much time on these dogs#it was supposed to be short and rapidly got out of control#definitely one of the strangest things i've ever written conceptually#but in the end i'm still proud of it#and i hope it did some small justice to The Yellow Face#which is one of my favorite holmes stories ever
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Thanks to @multiversal-madness for tagging me! (For future reference, if it's writing-related, please tag this blog -- I post games like this here. Still the same person, this is my writing-centric blog.)
Rules: Find 5 words and post snippets from your WIP that contain them.
My words were: Broken, whisper, hands, reach, clock
Tagging: @tiredfloridianbutverygay, @magicwhiskers29, @catto-writes
Your words are: would, share, empty, final, touch
Broken: There is never a guarantee that the future will be any better at any rate. From the state of things, Claire knows things haven’t truly gotten better. Not in the ways that matter. But what can she do? In the face of a broken system, she doesn’t have answers to fix it.
Whisper (I cheated a little bc this is "whispers" but...):
“Dimitri, you have to stop!” she yells.
He does, in fact, stop talking and just takes her in. “Claire…?”
Whispers erupt from the crowd.
“I knew you looked familiar!” Bill declares, pointing a finger at Dimitri.
Dimitri, for his part, seems rather frozen in place.
“I can’t let you do this, Dimitri,” she says, stepping towards the stage.
Hands: Angela flips a few pages forwards and shows him the pressed flower. He had plucked it from the ground and picked the roots from it, and then decided it was pretty like Angela. He remembers perfectly well. That was the beginning of their relationship, because she had asked if that made them like either of their parents, and he had said if she wanted, and they held hands. It was the sort of romance an eight-year-old would treasure. And then one of them had gone through a cooties phase a few months afterwards, and that had been the first time they broke up.
Reach (again, technically cheating, this one is "reached"):
“Blast it,” Paul says. “Bloody hell, Layton, could you be any less capable?”
Well, there are certainly some fields in which he is lacking.
“If you could do me a favour and leave me to my work—”
“It’s a favour for myself, too,” Paul responds, stomping off. Hershel will never understand that man. Then again, that’s most likely for the best, considering the man is still a villain. They will never truly be able to understand each other, but they have reached a detente.
Clock: She remembers the first time she took the lift down. At least now she’s prepared for the ride. She closes her eyes and waits for the shaking to stop — too many gears; the system isn’t efficient. She wonders who engineered this. Dimitri was always better at the theoretical stuff than the actual building. More into quantum physics than “how will this get built”. That’s what she was responsible for.
Maybe Clive was responsible. Then again, he never struck Claire as a scientist.
She emerges and looks up at the clock shop’s tall tower. It’s a marvel that they managed to build it, to be honest — it should be very, very unstable. But it’s not.
"broken", "whisper", and "clock" are all from this fic
"reach" and "hands" are from this fic
#wip#my writing#professor layton#tag game#i knew 'clock' would definitely be in timeloop fic#i was expecting the ran/lay fic to have more tho#since it's almost exactly 1k more in wordcount than timeloop fic#ch 3 of flora fic is also being written but there's not much of it yet and also the style causes less diversity in words#it would have been much harder for me to come up with words if i wasn't an avid wordle + variants player lmao#pl spoilers#unwound future spoilers#miracle mask spoilers#i guess#sidenote that 'they have reached a detente' is one of my favorite sentences i've written#if only because i got to use the word detente
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⋆ do you love me enough that i may be weak with you?
caitlyn x morally ambiguous!fem!reader x ambessa. men & minors dni.
synopsis: you are in competition with caitlyn for ambessa’s attention. you will follow her, to whatever end. no one draws you in like ambessa does. or so you tell yourself, even as caitlyn's lingering gaze makes your heart stutter. she’s almost desperate to be friends, but you don’t trust that girl by any means. to entertain her is to enable weakness. but, then again, have you ever truly been strong?
cw: a lot wow. age gap, older woman/younger woman, you're the youngest but in your twenties, canon divergence au, toxic relationships, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, power dynamics, impact play, body worship, dirty talk, bdsm dynamics, sub!reader, brat!reader, dom!caitlyn, dom!ambessa, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, tribbing, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, face-riding, slightly dub-con in some parts, kissing, so much kissing, non-sexual intimacy, shower sex, hate sex (but is it really), sexual punishment, implied mental health issues, implied manipulation, you are all up to no good, polyam but is it really we'll see, caitbessa is not in love but they use each other, slight violence (fighting, training, & reader is hurt though not by caitbessa.), enemies to lover, rivals to lovers, slightly dark but not too much, guys i even wrote this properly no lowercase.
wc: 10.03k
soundtrack: give up - fka twigs, careless - fka twigs ft. daniel ceaser, holy terrain - fka twins, your girl - lana del rey (unreleased), & oh my angel - bertha tilman. order is intentional.
notes: this was supposed to be 7k. i need to be locked up. dedicated especially to @megalomaniacz for being the beautiful mind behind the caitbessa note that started it all. definitely one of my favorite things i've ever written.
A COIN’S FIRST SIDE. — CAITLYN.
You do not understand her incessant need to look at you.
The day has broken dark and cold. Your body aches with the rigor of being destroyed and depleted timelessly by Ambessa's experienced hands. It is only the three of you in the early morning - you, Caitlyn with her delicate bones wrapped perfectly in binding and sequestered underneath her uniform of buttery, dusky leather, and Ambessa with her arms bare, her face exposed by the careful braiding of her hair that reveals every subtle shift of expression.
It is this, over and over, until your body shudders into collapse. Yet—minute victory or sudden death—Caitlyn must look at you. Even when it's her turn, with her arched back pressed hard into the textured bamboo of the mat, her face crushed against the hollow of Ambessa's palm, she is looking at you. Those eyes, relentless and searching, track your every movement. It drives you utterly insane.
The weight of her gaze feels like another opponent entirely, separate from Ambessa's ruthless instruction. You tell yourself it's determination that keeps you standing, keeps you coming back day after day to this dance of dominance and submission. But there's something else, something in the way Caitlyn's breath catches when Ambessa's fingers ghost over that perfectly formed bruise on her collarbone—the one you gave her yesterday. Something in the way Ambessa's eyes darken when she notices you noticing.
You leave it. You cannot think of it.
Yet it follows you from the training grounds, through the winding corridors where shadows pool like old bruises. Back to the quarters you share with her, where even the air feels thick with unspoken things. It follows you.
Caitlyn's presence fills every corner of the space you're forced to call home, from the precise way she arranges her rifle components to the lingering scent of gunpowder and leather that clings to her sheets. You are aware of that incessant staring, of the way her eyes rove over your naked chest; your small breasts are cupped dutifully in your hands as you unwrap yourself with a harsh breath.
Teacup tits, she'd called them when she’d once had you pinned against the wooden floor. It had been a day without mats; a day of endless testing. She had leaned in close, teeth gleaming like jewels as she held your stomach down with her hips. She had been sitting on you, and you had floundered then froze at the comments. You didn’t know she could be so brazen, so dirty-mouthed. This follows you too.
You've learned to move around her—around each other—in careful orbit. You are like twin moons, two violent girls with cheeks pressed against each other in the night, caught in some larger gravity - Ambessa's gravity - never touching but always aware. Always watching.
The way she strips her gloves off finger by finger after training makes your teeth clench. You tell yourself it's irritation, not fascination when she unwinds the bindings from her own chest with methodical precision. Tell yourself you don't notice how the morning's wounds are already blooming across her shoulders, masterpieces in indigo and blue that match the ones Ambessa left on you last week—it doesn’t make it less true.
And Ambessa—sometimes you catch Ambessa watching too. The way her eyes linger on Caitlyn's throat, on the marks her own hands left there. It sparks something warm and dangerous in your gut - not envy, you insist. Never envy. Just hunger, the same hunger that drives you to push harder, to prove yourself worthy of Ambessa's attention, maybe both of your intentions. To prove you're stronger than whatever weakness Caitlyn stirs in you with her endless watching.
But later the envy cannot help but be itself, and you retch into your hands and sink from the vibrations of your anger. You do not trust her. You’ve seen her with that girl, the reckless pink-haired one, and she knows that you’ve seen her. But you are keeping this secret for reasons you don’t understand.
And in the dead of night, when sleep eludes you, you hear Caitlyn's breathing change rhythm across the room. You wonder if she lies awake thinking of the way Ambessa's fingers traced that lesion on her hip today, the one that matched the shape of your knuckles perfectly. Wonder if she knows you're awake too, caught in this web of wanting that none of you dare name.
🕸
She is desperate for you, in a way that you do not understand. It is easier when she is quiet about it.
There is an evening where she is loud—where everything is loud—and it rattles you. There is an incessant buzzing, maybe cicadas, and in the beginning, you are enjoying it because it reminds you of home and the way your feet fall into wet earth in the heart of the warm season. But then slowly, you begin to lose your mind and the buzzing is in your teeth and you now feel slightly detached from the world and your body is nothing but heat and you are almost lapping at the screen between the open dormitory window and the world and—
You crawl out of bed. You wear nothing but a sleep shirt two sizes too big, the chest open so that your sweat-laden skin gleams like a body of water. It belongs to Ambessa but it was your father's first until she swallowed your homeland and stole you away. You took it back and she said nothing. Maybe she was impressed with the voracity with which you bit and scratched her in the dark, massive cave of her bedroom.
So, yes, you crawl out of bed. You are swamped in ivory fabric and you drag your feet as you roam the halls. There is movement and it scares you, but you muzzle your mouth with your hand so that your scream dies between your teeth. It's only another guard. You keep moving.
Now, you are in the kitchen. You rummage through spaces until your fingers alight on the thick sphere of a pomegranate. You yank and now it is yours; hard and red in your hands. You turn, and she's there.
Caitlyn moves like water in the dark, all fluid grace even in her own sleep clothes. Her eyes catch the moonlight streaming through the high windows, turning them to pale fire. You clutch the pomegranate tighter, your nails breaking the skin. Juice runs down your wrist.
"Let me," she says, and she's closer now, close enough that you can see the light sheen of sweat on her collarbones. It satisfies you that she is warm too, that she is touchable. Her fingers brush yours as she takes the fruit, and you let her only because you're transfixed by the way she reaches for the small cheese knife on the counter, the way she tests its edge with her thumb. You hope for blood but there is none.
You don't remember moving, but suddenly you're against each other, a dance of hands and breath and barely-contained violence. She pushes, you pull. You spin her toward the table, but she turns it, uses your momentum to send you both sprawling across its surface. Your back cracks against the stone like a bone. Her face crumples momentarily at the sound of your pain, but then she is herself again. The pomegranate rolls away, forgotten until it isn't.
You think of another table, a wooden one from when you were younger. You think of hiding beneath the heavy oak with her, your breaths shallow and hushed as you press close to her side. You were younger then, small enough to fit between her knees, your hands gripping hers like a lifeline. Above, Ambessa’s boots thundered across the floor, her sharp commands reverberating through the room.
“Where are you?” she’d barked, voice like a stone through a window.
But Caitlyn had only grinned, leaning in to whisper, “Don’t breathe."
It's different now. You no longer fit.
She lands on top of you when you hit the floor, pinning you with her hips. The knife glints in her hand, but she just smiles, that same smile from the training mat, the one that makes your stomach clench with disgust and desi—no. She reaches for the pomegranate, and you watch, breathless, as she begins to peel it with delicate precision.
"I'll show you how," she murmurs, and then she's leaning down, pressing her mouth to yours with bruising force. Her teeth catch your lip, and you taste copper, sharp, and sweet like pomegranate juice. When she pulls back, your blood is dark on her mouth, and she licks it away like it's nothing, like this is nothing, continuing to peel the fruit with steady hands.
You buck your hips and she sets the knife down, next to your wrists where your veins gather and bulge like snakes. She holds you down with her core, and you can feel the heat between her legs. There is a moment where you freeze, and she smiles with delight. You buck again and she slams you back down, using a hand around your throat to keep you beneath her like a lamb. Her other hand comes up—the knife, you think in fear—and loiters against herself. Then it moves down, quick and smooth, to raise her slip of a nightgown and bare her creamy thighs. She shifts so that she is atop your stomach, and pushes the shirt up until it’s beneath your breasts.
She isn’t wearing undergarments, or maybe she is. Maybe they are just thin. Either way, you can feel her against the skin of your belly, warm and weeping. You still aren’t moving, but you are slicking in return. You want to bite her, dig until she releases some sort of sound.
Then there is a sound - a sharp intake of breath - and you both turn.
Ambessa stands in the doorway, her expression unreadable in the darkness. For a moment, she watches, her head tilted like she's solving a puzzle. You look back at Caitlyn—who seems unrepentant about her half-nakedness. You put it together, the idea that they have seen one another like this before. The envy is riotous. You ache to kiss Caitlyn again if only to vomit in her mouth.
It’s as if she knows and so she leans in, holds the side of your head as she feeds you pomegranate seeds from the cavern of her own mouth. Eventually, she is no longer feeding, only taking. She presses harder and harder until you let out a yelp of discomfort. It feels, if you aren’t mistaken, like a claim.
Ambessa gazes at the two of you for a moment longer, then she turns away. Her footsteps echo down the hall, leaving you with the taste of blood and fruit and Caitlyn's smile against your mouth.
You regain your strength; you throw her off.
🕸
You don't sleep.
Your body vibrates with fury, with want, with the phantom press of her against your stomach. The dawn breaks grey and sullen through the window, and when you dress for training, you notice Caitlyn watching you again. But it's different now - you see the tremor in her hands, the way she swallows when you bend to lace your boots.
The training grounds are empty. No Ambessa. The message is as clear as a blade against the skin, and you want to scream. Instead, you strip and step into the shower block, letting scalding water pound against your shoulders. You hear the door open, close. Her footsteps on the tile.
"Don't," you say, but your voice lacks conviction. You're too tired to maintain the walls between you.
"You think she's punishing us." Caitlyn's voice is closer now. You hear fabric hitting the floor. "She's not. She's giving us space."
You turn, ready to snarl, but the sight of her stops you. She's different in daylight - less predator, more girl. There are shadows under her eyes that match your own. Water beads on her collarbone where last night's sweat had gleamed.
“Get away from me.” She doesn’t. You try again. “Space for what?”
The question comes out raw.
She steps under the spray with you, and you don't stop her. You watch the way the water falls over her, the spread of the moisture against her staunch skin. She is so angular, so prismatic. You feel as if the world refracts off of her. The water is running cold, so her breasts are erect and straining toward you. You think of drinking from them, more the effort of it, of the space between them where your mouth would fit.
"For this," she says but doesn't touch you. "For whatever this is. I'm tired of watching you pretend you don't feel it too."
"You don't know what I feel."
“I think you are a lonely creature.”
The heat between you evaporates like ash against the wind. Your mouth twists, and she steps toward you. She understands she has misrepresented herself and her intentions. You feel a familiar prickling. Tears.
“Is this how you see me? A cowardly animal?” Your voice is flat, and she balks with her hands flexing nervously against her thighs.
“No. No. I only meant—if anything we are both animals. We have been trained as such at least.”
“You aren’t making this better for yourself,” you say, turning away. “And you don’t know me in any way.”
"I know you taste like pomegranates."
You turn back to look at her, incredulous. “I had just eaten one, you little fool.”
“I know you let me kiss you before you threw me off.” Her smile is small, almost sad. “I know you've been keeping my secret about Vi.”
The name hits like a slap. You rise to the bait.
"Why her?"
"Why Ambessa?"
You have no answer for that. The water runs between you, and for once, you let yourself really look at her. At the desperation in her eyes, the way she’s holding herself like she's afraid you'll bolt. Maybe you've both been hungry for the same thing all along.
Still, it eats at you. This odd way she is pretending to be meek and mild. She is soft in the same ways you are, with the same dips in her hips and calluses along her palm. You think of the panther-like movements of her muscles as she readies a shot.
Something gathers underneath your tongue, and suddenly you are wailing. Loud and long. You rush at her, but she is waiting for you. She dips, and rams into your stomach as she flips you onto the tile. Though she is fighting back, she’s careful with you. Your head is cupped by her limber fingers as she sends you down.
You kick and catch your foot on her side. With a gasp, she’s down too, but a hand still manages to grip at the fine bones of your ankle and yank. It hurts, and you make a terrible noise. She releases you as if you’ve burned her, and you twist to get out from underneath her.
You’re on your belly now, flopping like a fish, but she makes you stay. She wrestles you up so that your back is bent as you press against her chest. You feel her fingers crawl like spider legs down your chest. She fondles, gropes, your tits. She is starved and erratic, pinching your nipples until they are standing on their own.
Your skin is slippery with soap, so Caitlyn digs her nails in for grip. Then the action stops and her hand descends into the apex of your thighs. You try to jerk, try to send her off but she knows this now. She is understanding. That’s even worse.
She holds you, exactly as you need, and gets two fingers inside of your cunt. She curves them, tries to pull you inside out. You let out another noise, but it is less terrible. She works at you until you cannot remember language, only a deep animalistic noise of ‘uh uh uh’, a rhythm. Her thumb swipes against your clit and you’re there, the pleasure like a blinding fire.
You still try to leave her; you try to crawl. She rolls you over and bullies herself in between your legs until she can place her cheek along your heaving stomach. You begin to cry. You’re unsure why, but maybe Caitlyn knows because she only strokes your inner thigh to soothe you. She looks up at you, hair black with water.
“It can be like this, always. You only need to—”
You shove her and scramble back until you’re sitting on your own. She still watches you, cheek to the tile now.
“No conditions,” she says, reworking her words. “Only us.”
You close your eyes and see pink. You open them and think of your general.
“There will always be her.”
Neither of you knows which woman you’re speaking of.
A COIN’S SECOND SIDE. — AMBESSA.
Sleep does not come that night either. You only try because when there is no session to distract it, your body aches for a bed.
You lie awake, counting the beats between Caitlyn's breaths across the room, replaying the way her cheek pressed against your belly, her lips ghosting over skin as she spoke. The way she looked at you like you were something both precious and perilous, desired and dangerous all at once. Your body still aches from her attention.
A sound draws you from your thoughts - the soft click of your dormitory door. Through barely-opened eyes, you watch Caitlyn rise like a phantom, pulling on a robe. She doesn't look back as she slips out.
Your feet are moving before your mind catches up.
You follow her through corridors you know by heart, the same path you took for that damned pomegranate. But she goes deeper, down halls you've never dared explore. When she stops at a familiar door—Ambessa's door—your heart clenches.
They speak in whispers you can't quite catch, but you see the way Ambessa's hand cups Caitlyn's face, the way Caitlyn leans into it like a cat being stroked. Your stomach twists violently. But then:
"She's ready," Caitlyn says, just loud enough, still soft. "She just doesn't know it yet."
Ambessa's laugh is low, rich like honey. "Oh, little one. She's been ready since I took her. We're just waiting for her to admit it."
You don't stay to hear more. But in the morning, when the summons comes—delivered by a guard who won't meet your eyes—you know they were expecting this too. They've been moving you like a piece on a board, and only now do you see the game.
You go anyway. You always do.
You press your lips together to avoid commenting on the way they stand separately like this will erase what you overheard yesterday. Ambessa stands at the center of the room, her presence devouring the light. It bends around her, as though the universe itself cannot decide whether to confront or flee her. Caitlyn is there too, poised and watchful, her gaze darting toward you and away again.
You look at her with an apathy you designed to get you through burning cities and crumbling countries. You wear your mother’s jewelry today: a septum ring with delicate chains of gold stretching across your cheeks, glinting over your ears. Ambessa’s eyes catch on it, a flicker of distaste passing over her face. Your fingers twitch, but you don’t remove it.
Caitlyn moves toward you, her steps tentative. You step back, forcing her to stop and speak first. Always assume power. This is what they have taught you.
“Do you find it fun,” you ask, head tilting, “to be careless with me?”
Caitlyn halts, her expression caught between guilt and something softer. Regret, maybe. This may be your delusion. Ambessa remains impassive, her gaze fixed on you with an unsettling intensity.
“Little one,” she begins, the shared nickname making you flinch. “You should be grateful. I’ve only eased you into a better space. This insipid competition for my attention is draining. I need my best soldiers to remain the best, to work with one another fluently.”
“You’ve been awful to me,” you say, your voice directed at Ambessa but your eyes locked on Caitlyn.
The mask you wear shifts, and you let your anger surface.
“Do not call me her name. I’m nothing like her.”
Ambessa’s expression betrays a flicker of disagreement, but she inclines her head, a mockery of deference. “As you wish, little one. What do you think, Cait? Do you agree?”
The nickname hits like a physical blow. Ambessa smiles wickedly. Cait. You used to call her that, back when you were little girls, not yet twisted. You saw her as some kind of beautiful flower, one that had learned to tremble tall amongst the trees.
“You could have spoken to me,” you say finally, your voice sharper now. “You didn’t need this...elaborate scheme of seduction.”
“Love is a good enforcer,” Ambessa says, her tone rich with amusement.
“You wouldn’t know love if it spat in your face,” you snap.
The room freezes. Caitlyn stiffens, but Ambessa’s expression darkens, her presence swelling like a storm. You meet her gaze, unflinching.
“Get out,” she says, her voice quiet but deadly.
Caitlyn hesitates, her body angling toward you as though to shield you. Her hands twitch, almost childlike in their uncertainty. “She’s only angry. Let me—”
“Get out,” Ambessa repeats, her tone slicing through the air.
Caitlyn turns to you, desperation softening her features. “Listen to me,” she murmurs, stepping closer. “I meant it. All of it. With you. I only—”
You think of the evening before. Your throat works until you have something to say; your hand moves before you can think, shoving her back. The memory of her warmth lingers on your palm like a curse. You try to lose it.
“Get out,” you whisper.
She stumbles, her expression crumpling into something fragile. You swallow hard, forcing yourself to stay cold, and distant. Caitlyn hesitates for a heartbeat longer, but then she turns to leave.
“You always try so hard to be good,” you push out.
She pauses, remains facing away from you.
“I meant it,” she says again. “With you.”
She goes, the door clicking shut behind her.
Ambessa doesn’t speak. She doesn’t need to. The silence between you is a battlefield, and you know you are primed to lose.
“Do you want to have me to yourself, or do you only wish to be my favorite?”
The question surprises you. However, you shouldn’t be surprised by anything Ambessa does. Her voice is calm, and measured, but it holds a challenge. There waits a quiet dare for you to step into the space she’s carved out for you.
Your throat tightens, words lodging there like a trap. You hate the way your body reacts to her—the warmth that spreads under your skin, the treacherous pull of her presence. It disgusts you. It thrills you. You feel weak.
“I don’t want either,” you say, though the answer feels thin. A lie.
Ambessa’s mouth curves into something sharp, more predator than a smile. “Liar.”
Your hands clench at your sides. “I refuse to play this game, least of all with you.”
“Oh, but you are, little one.” She takes a step closer, the sound of her boots deliberate, echoing in the cavernous space between you. “You’ve been playing since the day you first looked at me with that fire in your eyes. When I took you away.”
She clarifies as if you can’t quite recall. It grates at your nerves.
“You hate me, and yet you can’t help but ache for me. Do you think I haven’t noticed?”
Your pulse quickens, the air between you crackling with tension. You hold her gaze, refusing to look away, even as heat rises in your cheeks.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” you say, but the words lack conviction.
Ambessa tilts her head, her gaze dragging over you in a way that feels invasive, consuming. “I don’t need to flatter myself. I see you. At first, I thought you might take after me in a way meant to replace your mother.”
She reaches forward, fingers the cold along the ridge of your cheekbones.
“I see the way you tremble when I’m near, the way your apathy tastes so much like desire,” she continues.
She steps closer, and you step back instinctively, your spine meeting the cold stone wall behind you. You hate how small you feel under her gaze, how she makes the air around you feel heavier, suffocating.
“You’ve used me,” you bite out, your voice shaking but firm. “You’ve used Caitlyn, too. You pit us against each other like we’re pawns on your board. Is that all we are to you?”
Ambessa’s expression doesn’t falter, but something flickers in her eyes, something unreadable. “You’re more than that, but useful as pawns when it’s needed. Both of you. But you’re still mine.”
Her hand moves, slow and deliberate, until her fingers brush your jaw. The touch is barely there, a whisper against your skin, but it sets every nerve alight.
“You hate it so much when we touch you,” she says softly, her voice a low rumble. “But it’s that hate that keeps you sharp. That’s why I keep you close. Why we—I— can’t let you go.”
You want to pull away, to spit something venomous, to remind her that you’re not some plaything for her amusement. But you don’t move. You don’t speak. You can’t.
“Caitlyn wants your approval,” Ambessa continues, her thumb grazing the corner of your mouth now. “She craves it. But you... you want something deeper, don’t you? Something darker.”
You flinch.
“I want nothing from you.”
Ambessa leans in, her breath warm against your ear. “Then why are you still here?”
“Because you summoned me.”
“Because you wanted to come,” she counters, her voice soft but unyielding.
You try to defend yourself, but she’s moved past this now. Instead, her hands come to the bend of your hips and lift you with an easy effort that makes your legs widen around the bulk of her body. With quick steps she moves you to the chaise just off to the side of the room, sitting you on top of it. The world is blurring; she is moving too quickly for you to dispute.
Ambessa’s hands are firm as she strips you bare and traces the shape of you. Like Caitlyn—or maybe Caitlyn, like her—she cups a tit in her large hand and squeezes. This version of it is more painful, different from its softer sister movement in the shower.
She leans forward, opens her mouth, and swallows that loose circle of fat. You arch into the heat of her lips, moan low and reedy as she suckles at your nipple. Her teeth trap bits of skin between them, marking you purposefully. She pulls off and takes your other breast inside of her again to be teased and tainted by her bruises.
You rock gently, chasing the feeling. This time when Ambessa’s mouth leaves you, she presses your tits together and appraises them.
“She said this was one of her favorite parts of you.” When she finds your confused gaze, Ambessa smiles. “Cait.”
You tense at that, and she chuckles. The sound infuriates you. Still, you do nothing as she sinks lower, her breath approaching the swollen pearl of your clit. Without a word she latches on to you, lapping idly at you as if you aren’t already dripping down her chin. She holds you as your body stutters, pleasure arcing through you like thousands of arrows.
Ambessa is measured in this too. She sucks your folds into her mouth, laps at you carefully as she grips your ass. She makes you ride her, clit bumping against her strong nose as you follow her instruction. She draws back from you once, only to spread you apart and spit crudely into your cunt. She watches it travel down your slit, slicking you with her saliva, then she spits again and pushes it in with a finger.
Before she continues she glances at you and gives you another order.
“Say her name.”
You say nothing, mind racing. She slaps your ass, hard.
“Say her name. As you used to.”
You understand now. Again, you ride her tongue but when your mouth opens it is not her name that you say.
“Cait,” you moan, legs falling open even wider.
Ambessa adjusts you, slings your legs over her wide shoulders as she consumes you. She shakes her head, burying herself in your cunt as she leads you over the edge. Over and over, she laps at you until you’re panting hard like you would when sparring. This is sparring in another form.
“Oh, fuck,” you whisper. “Oh, fuck. Fuuuuck, Cait. Please.”
“Mmhmm,” Ambessa hums over your clit, and that’s the end of it for you.
You let out a sharp, shrill scream and attempt to bow over yourself with the strength of your orgasms. Ambessa refuses to let you, forcing you back and keeping your legs spread so that she can watch your cunt flutter wildly as you cum.
“There you go,” she murmurs.
“Yeah,” you answer, dazed and nonsensical.
Your pussy spasms, pink and oozing juices like a wound. Your thighs strain with the stretch of remaining open. You think of the shower floor.
“Caitlyn,” you gaps. You can’t stop pulsing. “Yes. Fuck, Cait.”
There’s a thud outside, against the door as if someone has fallen.
Ambessa removes her hands. The silence stretches between you, taut and electric. Finally, you find your voice, though it’s hoarse and trembling.
“If you think I’ll ever belong to you, you’re wrong.”
Ambessa’s smile returns, wicked and knowing.
“You are brave, but you already do, little one. You just haven’t admitted it yet. What do you think we speak of waiting for?”
The absence of her touch feels colder than it should. She steps back, giving you space, but her gaze remains heavy on you, a reminder that you are never truly free of her.
“Go,” she says, her tone dismissive. “Think about what you want. And when you’re ready to admit it, you know where to find me.”
You don’t wait for her to say more. You rise and make to leave, hands grappling over your clothes. You feel discombobulated like a puppet with its strings cut. You only manage to slide your shirt back over your head and it dusts the tops of your thighs.
Ambessa only watches your struggle. You hate her. You want her. You don’t know where one feeling ends and the other begins.
You tug the door open and step back as Caitlyn spills back against the floor, hand still between her thighs and shining with her own pleasure. Her chest is heaving, her skin pink with the rush of lust and physical exertion. Her legs splay beneath her like a doll’s.
She pulls her fingers out with a wet ‘schleck’ and tucks them into her mouth, cheeks hollowing as she looks up at you—unashamed. You say nothing, only bend down and tug her fingers from her mouth. You put them in your own.
THE COIN, FACE DOWN. — CAITBESSA.
The dormitory is devoid of you. Caitlyn is unsurprised.
You are unused to being touched. You don’t know how to be wanted.
Still, she worries. More accurately, she spirals. The ache of your absence gnaws at her in the quiet moments, like a phantom limb she can’t stop reaching for. She doesn’t know where you’ve gone.
Ambessa is losing herself too, albeit in a different way. Caitlyn wonders if she has ever truly lost something before.
The world continues to turn. They train, a familiar ritual that feels increasingly hollow. Their strikes are sharper now, their parries more reckless. Ambessa’s movements carry an edge Caitlyn hasn’t seen before, a fury barely leashed. She fights like she’s trying to exorcise something, and Caitlyn is often the target of that rage.
A blow to her stomach knocks the wind out of her. A strike to her face nearly cracks her jaw. Caitlyn knows better than to show weakness, so she grits her teeth and pushes back, delivering her own brutality in return. She delivers as well as she receives.
She kicks Ambessa in the mouth once, the impact jarring up the toned meat of her leg. The older woman’s lip splits, blood dripping down her chin, but she doesn’t flinch. In response, Ambessa hurls Caitlyn into the corner of the room. She skids across the mat, hitting the wall with enough force to rattle her bones.
Ambessa isn’t looking at her, stays crouched on the mat with her hand pressed to her mouth. Caitlyn struggles upward, sliding to rest against the wall. The fight had been nothing more than an outlet, and Caitlyn, nothing more than a tool. Caitlyn struggles to her feet, leaning heavily against the wall. The guards in the room avoid looking at them, the air too charged, too dangerous.
Something simmers in Caitlyn’s stomach, a volatile mixture of anger, frustration, and something softer she doesn’t want to name. She refuses to puncture it, afraid of what might spill out. She is already suffering enough, diseased with the spores of her affection for you.
And Ambessa.
The thought churns in her mind, dark and poisonous. Ambessa has become an obsession she doesn’t want to admit to, a shadow that looms too large since that moment in the room. Caitlyn hates her, resents her, envies her. She knows what you taste like, what you’d like. She too has been inside you. Caitlyn now has nothing; they are disgustingly equal.
But beneath it all, she respects her. And that’s what makes it worse.
When Caitlyn finally speaks, her voice is strained, biting. “Do you always break your toys this quickly, or am I just special?”
Ambessa’s gaze finally lifts, sharp and cutting. She wipes the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand and smiles, a malignant curve that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Special?” she echoes, rising to her full height. “You think too highly of yourself, Cait. You’re simply better than most.”
The nickname grates, a reminder of the intimacy they share now—unwanted, unavoidable, tangled in you. Caitlyn clenches her fists. “Don’t call me that.”
Ambessa takes a step closer, her presence suffocating, magnetic. “You’ve been insufferable since she left,” she says, voice low and dangerous. “Do you think I don’t see it? You miss her like a dog misses its master.”
“And you don’t?” Caitlyn fires back, the words cutting deeper than she intended.
Ambessa’s expression darkens, and for a moment, Caitlyn wonders if she’s gone too far. But then the older woman smirks, cruel and knowing.
“I miss her,” Ambessa admits, her tone a blade. “But not like you do. You ache for her because she is a twin to your pain, a foil to my approval. I ache for her because she belongs to me.”
The words twist in Caitlyn’s chest, sharp and unbearable. “She doesn’t belong to anyone,” she snaps.
Ambessa chuckles a low, bitter sound. “You’re wrong. [Name] belongs to both of us, and that’s why you hate me.”
Caitlyn’s breath catches, and she doesn’t deny it.
Without you, they writhe like snakes, their weight pulling them into collision after collision. The mouth of the snake swallows the tail. The hatred between them is palpable, a toxic undercurrent that fuels their every interaction. And yet, when the nights grow long and the ache of your absence becomes unbearable, they find themselves drawn together.
It’s not love, not even close. It’s desperation, a way to drown the pit you’ve left behind. Their intimacy is suffocating, a visceral reminder of everything they can’t have.
When Caitlyn’s nails dig into Ambessa’s back, it’s not out of affection but frustration. When Ambessa’s teeth scrape Caitlyn’s collarbone, it’s not passion but punishment. They use each other because they can’t have you. After all, the emptiness you left is too much to bear alone.
It’s never enough, no matter how fierce. Because they don’t want each other.
They want you.
Still, they try.
🕸
Again, the shower.
They’re slightly cruel to one another. It fuels the high.
Caitlyn snaps back to the moment as Ambessa needles a nail into the mottled skin beneath her shoulder blade, where a bruise sits thick and spreading. She hisses in pain, tits pressing further against Ambessa’s own. There are three thick fingers in her pussy and they fuck her in the way she needs.
Despite the embarrassment, she lets her head fall onto Ambessa’s wide shoulders as she chases her orgasm. Her cunt is like water, dribbling down Ambessa’s wrist as she carves Caitlyn out. Again, a nail presses into the bruise.
The motion is harsher this time around and Caitlyn cries out, throwing her head back so that her hair brushes the middle of her spine. Ambessa continues to toy with this patch of marred skin, teeth clamping on the wide skin of Caitlyn’s neck as the younger woman twists and shudders around her.
“Good fucking girl,” Ambessa mutters, fucking her faster.
Caitlyn bounces to meet her, slamming herself down until her belly tightens and roars. Ambessa lifts her further, suctions her mouth around one of her perky tits, and digs deeper into the pink tight nature of her. Caitlyn roots a hand in her hair and slides the other down her body to collect pieces of that foamy, white ring gathering around Ambessa’s hand.
Slick with herself, she rubs tight, quick circles around Ambessa’s clit. The older woman’s cunt is large, folds heavy and leaking. Caitlyn feels her tremble and she moves faster, breath coming fast as the spray of the water slides down the crack of her ass.
With a muffled grunt, Ambessa cums. As she does, she bites deeply into the meager flesh of Caitlyn’s collarbone. Caitlyn whites out, eyes rolling back briefly so that she’s swaying and focusing on a blurred ceiling. Their orgasms warp and connect; they refuse to stop touching one another as if it will keep reality at bay.
The comedown is almost irritating, and in a frenzy, Caitlyn clutches Ambessa to her chest. This does nothing.
She kisses Ambessa feverishly, practically mauling her, because the echo of your cunt is on her lips. Ambessa holds her, returns the kiss, then breaks it.
“No matter how hard we try, she is not here.”
Caitlyn closes her eyes and her face pinches in pain.
“And where is she? Gone, and you are doing nothing to find her.”
This close, Caitlyn can see Ambessa’s face twitch and melt into something revealing. Something rocks through her at the sight and she detangles their bodies.
“You cannot find her.”
The statement is accusatory, so much so that Ambessa surrenders and turns away. She shuts off the water; Caitlyn remains shivering.
THE COIN, POCKETED. — YOU.
Your mouth tastes like metal and smoke. The streets of Zaun pulse beneath your feet, virulent and alive, and you can barely remember how many days it's been since you left them. Since you left her. Them.
You've gotten yourself into trouble - the kind Ambessa would have prevented, the kind Caitlyn would have shot through. Blood trickles down your side from where the knife caught you, and your vision swims with chemical fumes and exhaustion. You don't know where you're going anymore, just that you're going.
The world tilts sideways. You stumble and catch yourself against a wall slick with condensation. A familiar laugh echoes from somewhere above - it stops your heart, then starts it again too fast. You know that laugh.
When you look up, they're there on one of the suspended walkways - Caitlyn and that pink-haired girl, Vi. They haven't seen you yet. Vi has her hand on Caitlyn's waist, casual, proprietary. Something in you breaks and mends and breaks again.
Then Caitlyn turns her head, and her eyes find yours like they always have. The world stops. You try to run—you always try to run—but your legs give out. You thud to the ground. Mind heavy. Heart heavy.
You hate her more than anything else in the world. You wish that was true.
You hear the clatter of boots on metal as she descends, and then she's there, gathering you up as if she hadn’t been entangled a moment before. She hooks a hand into your hair, and claws you into looking at her as she squeezes your face hard. Something inside of you understands that the action isn’t intentional, not this time.
She bends, hair falling from her hurried bun, and swallows you—grime and all. Her kiss tastes devastating and strains with relief, and you're too weak to fight it anymore. You push back, this time into her, and force her to hold you. She squeezes you tighter, moaning almost obscenely as she relapses and languishes in your feel, in your taste.
Here is her sweet girl. Her sweet fucking girl.
“Cait,” you moan.
She pulls away and strokes your baby hairs away from your forehead as you let out a feeble, wounded noise.
"Vi," she says, not looking away from your face, "help me. I need to get her back to Ambessa."
"This is your runaway?" Vi's voice is rough, knowing. "The one you've been tearing yourself up over?"
Caitlyn's hands tighten on your arms. "It's important for the mission that we-"
"Save it, Cupcake." Vi's laugh is different now, sadder. "I know what love looks like on you."
That training, that beloved animal comes back in full force, and Caitlyn looks up from beneath her lashes. Her face contorts and it’s the strangest she’s ever seemed to Vi. She reaches up, hooks a hand around Vi’s jaw, and drags her down.
“Get it together, Violet. This is not your moment.”
Vi blinks at her, equal parts disturbed and titulated. Caitlyn lets her go, places that same hand on the peek of skin between the hem of your shirt and your linen pants. Why would you ever wear linen when running away? She looks back up again, traces Vi’s expression—analyzes it.
“I can love you both. I’ve done it before.”
Vi's laugh catches in her throat. You watch through half-lidded eyes as something passes between them— understanding, maybe. Or resignation. Your blood is making patterns on the ground.
"Fine," Vi says, and then she's lifting you like you weigh nothing, careful of your wound. "But if this gets me killed, I'm haunting you both."
“If she dies because of our procrastinating, I’ll do something worse than haunting,” Caitlyn snaps.
Caitlyn's hand doesn't leave your skin as you move through the undercity. You drift in and out of consciousness, catching fragments: Vi muttering about shortcuts, Caitlyn's fingers pressing against your pulse, the way they work together like they've done this before. They probably have.
"Stay with me," Caitlyn keeps saying, and you're not sure if she means now or forever. Maybe both.
You think of Ambessa waiting, of how her hands will feel on your skin again, of how she'll look at you like you're something wild she's finally caught. You think of Caitlyn's desperation in the shower, that fucking shower and it’s cold water—of her mouth against your stomach. Of how they both break you apart and put you back together wrong.
"She's burning up," Vi says somewhere above you. Her voice sounds almost gentle.
"We're close." Caitlyn's voice shakes. "The extraction point is-"
"I know where it is." A pause. "You really love her that much?"
"More than is safe."
You want to tell her that nothing about any of you has ever been safe. Instead, you let the darkness drag you into its arms.
When you wake, you're in Ambessa's chambers. The sheets smell like her - lime and mango and earth. Caitlyn is curled against your side, her breath evening out against your neck. And there, in the doorway, Ambessa stands watching you both with hunger in her eyes.
"Welcome home, little one," she says, and steps inside.
THE COIN, MELTED INTO GOLD — CAITLYN & YOU & AMBESSA & YOU &.
Ambessa moves like smoke in the water.
The room holds its breath as she approaches, and you feel Caitlyn's arm tighten across your middle—not protective, possessive. They don't look at each other. They never do. Their hunger is only for you.
"Did you think you could run from us?" Ambessa's voice is silk over steel, very careful in the moment. She sits on the edge of the bed, and the mattress dips with her weight. Her hand finds your ankle, thumb pressing into the hollow where your pulse beats rabbit-quick. "From me?"
You try to answer, but Caitlyn's mouth is suddenly on your neck, wet and wanting. She bites down, marking you, claiming you and Ambessa's grip tightens in response. They're going to tear you apart.
You realize, distantly, that you want them to.
"She's hurt," Caitlyn murmurs against your skin, but her teeth don't gentle. "We should-"
"We should punish her," Ambessa cuts in, and your body betrays you with a shiver. Her hand slides higher, past your knee. It makes you realize that you’re in nothing but a simple pair of baby blue cotton panties and a skimpy bra. Your tits spill out at the bottom. "Shouldn't we?"
Caitlyn makes a sound like drowning. Her fingers find the hem of your shirt and ghost over the bandaged wound at your side. "Yes," she breathes, and you feel yourself sinking, sinking. "But she's ours to punish."
"Ours," Ambessa agrees, and the word feels jagged.
You're losing yourself in them. A thought floats up through your hazy mind: that they refuse to acknowledge each other even as they work in tandem to break you down, to unmake you piece by piece. Their synchronized destruction should be beautiful to watch if you can remember how to open your eyes.
"Look at me," Ambessa commands and your body obeys before your mind can catch up. Her hand cups your jaw, thumb pressing against your lower lip. "She trembles so prettily for us, doesn't she?"
Caitlyn's answer is to drag her nails down your spine, making you arch into the touch. The pain blooms like ink in water, spreading out until you can't tell where it ends and pleasure begins. You're caught between them - Ambessa's unyielding strength and Caitlyn's desperate need - and you're not sure you want to escape.
"Tell us why you ran," Caitlyn whispers, but it's not really a question. Her fingers trace the edges of your bandages again, a reminder of what your foolish escape attempt cost you. "Tell us what you thought you'd find out there.”
"Freedom," you manage to gasp, and Ambessa's laugh is dark honey, sticky-sweet, and dangerous.
"Oh, little one." Her grip tightens, not quite painful. Not yet. "You're only free when I allow it."
She speaks only of herself, but you know the notion pertains to both of them. You know they're right. You've always known and it leaves something bitter in your mouth. That's why you ran - not to escape them, but to make them chase you. To prove they would. To ensure they'd punish you when they caught you.
And now they have.
"Please," you breathe, though you're not sure what you're begging for. More? Mercy? Neither?
"Please what?" Caitlyn's voice has gone rough with her aching. Her teeth find your shoulder again, and you shudder. "Use your words."
But Ambessa's hand is sliding into your hair now, pulling your head back to expose your throat. "No," she says, and you can hear the smile in her voice. "I don't think she gets to speak anymore tonight. I think she’ll bore me with her useless whining.”
The whimper that escapes you makes them both pause, just for a moment. Just long enough for you to feel their satisfaction ripple through the air like heat waves. You might die this way, you’re realizing. They may build you up one final time, only to slit your throat at the time of climax.
Ambessa is practically stone with her tempered fury, and Caitlyn is antsy with her need. You never realized how much you riled them in the same manner they did you. Ambessa goes on to say more, filling the silence with something sick and cruel but Caitlyn has had enough now.
She lurches up, rolls you over so that she sits atop just like the night she first kissed you. The night where it all burst. There’s a moment where she has a hand on your chest, pushing down as if resuscitating you. You don’t understand it until you look down and see the way the pressure makes your breasts surge and spurt from underneath your bra. She pushes again and again and again until you’re taking halting, broken sips of air. Over and over, your tits spill until she grows crazed and snaps the fabric off of you.
Ambessa only watches, though you notice her thighs spreading. She looks soft, her hair unbraided and haloing her face. She wears nothing but a silk yellow robe which displays her figure lovingly. Your cunt grows warm, tender.
Catilyn taps your cheek, brings you back to her. You can’t remember if the button-down she wears is yours or Ambessa’s. Maybe both. You wince at her weight on your stomach and she moves up and over your face.
There’s no time to prepare for the way she comes down on you, her groan thunderous as her pussy settles on your parted mouth. You fall into line, give her what she wants.
Still, you are to be punished, so she sits for a long while. Just smothers you. Occasionally she grinds, filling your nose with her musk. You can feel her soft curls around your lips, and you arch up as if to crawl inside of her skin. This gets her to move, a slow rocking that amps up as you settle into making out with her pouring pussy.
You kiss her here, over and over, dragging your tongue into the affair until she’s riding you. Your tongue slips in and Caitlyn quivers with a whimper as she rides your face harder. You bring a hand up to hold her, to prevent her from slipping but she smacks it away.
“No,” she pants. “No—oh, fuck me. Holy shiiiit.” She bounces liberally, selfishly. “No touching.”
Caitlyn leans forward, supporting herself as she fucks down on you with fervor. You’re so distracted with getting her to fill your throat with her pleasure that you mistakenly lose focus on where Ambessa is. Which is why the press of her cunt against your own absolutely blindsides you.
She’s climbed atop the bed during the desperate coupling between you and Caitlyn, removing your panties so that your pussy winks at her voraciously. True to her nature she decides to take, to conquer you. You grip Caitlyn tightly, so tightly that she squeals and cums at the pain.
You forget to let go, buck wildly as she creams over your nose and chin. It settles on you like sugar; she takes a long finger and dips it in—soft and sweet. You suckle at the pad of it, taking the digit into your mouth and moaning around it as Ambessa slides your cunts together.
You can’t tell if you are one body or three or three-in-one. You feel enmeshed in the both of them. Your blood is theirs; your cunt is theirs. Maybe it is less togetherness and more possession. Ambessa groans deeply as you gush against her, the squelch both loud and quiet. Caitlyn is now off to this side—this you know. She has her other fingers playing with herself, shifts down to let them puncture her.
She shoves another finger into your mouth and you gag, let her hit the back of your throat. Drool is coalescing and running over them. The sight makes Ambessa open you further, and hold you down as she slides your clits together over and over—harder and harder.
Your babbling makes the both of them smile, dark curves tinged with their sadistic pleasure. Again, the possession. Ambessa shoves Caitlyn aside and crawls over you to hook her thicker digits into your mouth. She drags you, your head lolling, as she reaches down and rubs your clit.
You scream, silent with your mouth open wide as you cum. This is not enough. It is never enough. She is back on you, like a lioness on a gazelle. Her pussy swallows yours, and Ambessa forgets you as she leads herself to that approaching golden horizon.
When she crests, she falls on you and you do nothing but accept her weight. You lay there, do this for what feels like years, until Caitlyn weasels behind you. Then you do it again.
🕸
You wake with a start, disoriented by the weight pinning you to the bed. Caitlyn's arm drapes loosely over your waist, her fingers curled like she’d been holding you even in sleep. Ambessa’s warmth radiates from behind you, her breath slow and even. The sheets smell of sweat and sandalwood, of something heady and unnamed.
The sheet clings to your skin almost oppressively, a reminder of last night’s twist of limbs and pleasure. You slide out from between them, careful not to disturb their slumber. Ambessa stirs slightly, her arm shifting, and you hesitate. Caitlyn murmurs something unintelligible, and you freeze. When neither of them wakes, you slip free.
You take Caitlyn’s robe from the chair by the bed, pulling it around your shoulders. The fabric is sheer, nearly useless, but it smells of her. You step onto the balcony, and the cool morning air kisses your skin. The horizon is painted in hues of gold and rose, the sun stretching its fingers across the sky.
You lean against the railing, the chill of the metal biting into your palms. The fortress sprawls below and blends into the distant city, a patchwork of shadows and light. For a moment, it feels like you’re the only person in the world. But the ache in your chest reminds you that isn’t true.
You are loved. You are wanted. And it terrifies you.
You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to make sense of the ache in your chest. The robe clings to you, and the light hits your body in a way that feels exposing, even with no one watching.
A soft sound pulls your attention, and Caitlyn steps out onto the balcony, her hair a tumble of dark waves over her shoulders. She’s still half-asleep, her bare feet silent on the stone. When she sits beside you, the space between you feels both unbearable and necessary.
"Couldn't sleep, baby?" she murmurs, her voice rasping in the quiet.
You shake your head, eyes fixed on the horizon. You ignore the goosebumps that rise at the pet name.
"I don’t know what to do with so much love," you say finally, your voice trembling. "From you. From her. It’s… too much."
She doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she reaches out, her fingers brushing your forearm. You flinch, and she pulls back, pain flickering across her face.
"Baby," she says softly, and the word lands like a stone in your chest. "I will undo this. I will make your living easier."
You exhale sharply, the sound halfway to a laugh. “Will I always have to share you?” you ask.
You don’t look at her.
Caitlyn hesitates, then glances toward the bed where Ambessa shifts, her hand moving as if searching for you in her sleep. You glance over instinctively, the motion so natural it betrays you.
“I could ask you the same,” she says finally. Her tone is steady, but there’s a thread of something deeper woven through it—something sharp and sad. Your gaze flickers to her, then back to the bed behind you. Ambessa shifts again, her brow furrowing, and you instinctively turn to her. The action is so ingrained, that you don’t realize what you’ve done until Caitlyn speaks again.
“She pulls at you,” Caitlyn says, not unkindly. “I see it.”
You want to deny it, but the words stick in your throat. Instead, you say, “And you don’t?”
Her lips curve into a wry smile. “I pull at you too. But she’s… something else.”
You swallow hard, the weight of her words settling over you. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Your breath catches, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. The city stirs below, oblivious to the ache of your small world.
INTERLUDE: THE LIONESS, WITH THE COIN IN HER MOUTH.
Ambessa lies still in the bed, her breathing measured and even, but her mind sharp and alert. She hears the murmur of voices from the balcony, the quiet cadence of Caitlyn's voice mingling with yours, a soft harmony in the cool morning air.
Her eyes remain closed, yet her thoughts stray to the image of you wrapped in Caitlyn’s robe, the rosy light of dawn casting faint halos around your figures. She imagines the tension in your body as Caitlyn reaches for you, the way you’d shift, hesitant, but never pulling away entirely. It’s a dynamic Ambessa understands all too well: the push and pull, the magnetic sway you hold over both of them.
You’re the thread that binds, fragile yet unbreakable. It’s maddening. It’s beautiful.
Ambessa shifts slightly, her fingers brushing the cool sheets where you once lay. The absence is temporary—she knows this. But the way you linger in her mind is something she can’t easily reconcile. She has always been a woman of precision, of control. Yet you are beginning to undo her in ways she cannot name, cannot stop, that she believed herself too old for.
Through the door left ajar, your voice carries faintly. When you and Caitlyn return, Ambessa will let you come to her. For now, she waits, her lips curving faintly, as if in a private, unspoken promise.
“You’ll come back to me,” she murmurs under her breath, a whisper carried only by the stillness of the room.
And outside, the sun climbs higher, gilding the world in its light.
RE: THE COIN, MELTED INTO GOLD — CAITLYN & YOU & AMBESSA & YOU &.
Caitlyn leans back, her eyes tracing your face. "We grew up together," she begins, her voice softer now. "Trained together. They taught us to kill, to win, to survive. But you…" She pauses, swallowing hard. "You were always my half. I can’t promise much, but when the pendulum swings, I will choose you to save. Every time."
Her words settle heavy in the space between you. You lean your head against her shoulder, letting the warmth of her presence ease the sharp edges of your doubt.
Caitlyn tilts her head, resting her cheek against your hair. "You’re half of me," she murmurs.
From inside, Ambessa’s voice calls softly, "Come back to bed."
Caitlyn shifts, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, then your nose, and finally your lips. It’s a lingering kiss, tender and unhurried as if she’s trying to pour every unsaid word into you.
"You’re my girl," she whispers against your mouth. "I love you, baby."
The declarations are so soft you almost think you’ve imagined them. But the look in her eyes tells you otherwise.
Ambessa calls again, her voice low and expectant. Caitlyn straightens, her hand falling away from yours. She glances at the door, then back at you. She stands, offering her hand to you.
"Come," she says simply.
You hesitate, the ache in your chest a living thing. But you take her hand.
The sun exposes as it further moves toward its high point, casting the balcony in streaky light, but you feel no warmth. Only the quiet weight of something you can’t name, pressing into the spaces between your ribs.
And behind you, the world goes on turning.
“Come,” Caitlyn says again, her tone gentle but firm.
You go.
© hcneymooners.
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#ambessa x y/n#ambessa x reader#ambessa x you#ambessa x caitlyn#ambessa arcane#ambessa medarda#ambessa smut#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn x y/n#caitlyn x you#caitlyn x reader#caitlyn x ambessa#caitlyn x vi#caitlyn arcane#caitlyn smut#caitbessa#arcane smut#arcane x reader#arcane fanfic#wlw smut#lesbian#sapphic#mine ; 🐎.#ambessa the chosen of the wolf#ambessa league of legends
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KANG DAE-HO NSFW&SFW HCS
Nsfw below the cut!!
MDNI
A/N: I've written smut before on my old account but I deleted ittt💔 so hopefully you guys like this
Pairing(s?): Kang Dae-ho x F!Reader
Genre: Fluff and smut
Warnings: Cockwarming, Cum eating, Oral (F&M rec), hair pulling, PiV unprotected (wrap ur willy), Handjob
WC: ?? Idk but it's lengthy
SFW~
(Out of games)
• softest man EVER.
• you ask for something, and he is getting it for youu
• the type of boyfriend to drop anything and everything for you, no matter how big or small it is
• 100% a kind of guy to smother you in kisses when he missed you after a loooong day at work or something
"I missed you so much baby.." He mutters in between kisses, his larger hands gently holding your face as if you'd break if he held you any tighter. "I missed you too.." You say against his lips, a small smile finding it's way to your lips.
• You bet he's cuddling you after, watching your favorite movie while matching pyjama's.
• When you started dating he'd have to ask you to play with his hair by subtly nudging his head on your chest while you guys would cuddle. But now, you just know when he wants head rubs or his hair played with.
• To add onto that, if you stop playing with his hair before he's fallen asleep, he's a whiny little baby, grabbing your hand and placing it back onto his hair.
"Jagi.. come on" He whines, a pout on his lips as he grabs your hand, his hold gentle. He places your hand back onto his hair, nuzzling himself into your hand. "You're such a baby~" You tease, and he let out a noise of protest.
NSFW~
(Out of games)
• He is 100% into cockwarming, prove me wrong.
• he'd have you on his lap, his hard cock nestled inside of you as he watches a show or something.
• But, eventually, he'd get too needy and just start thrusting up into you.
"A-ah shit.." He moans, his hands on your hips holding you steady as he slowly begins to thrust up into your dripping cunt. "So fuckin' tight" He'd quickly mutter in one breath, letting out a breath afterwards. "Oh fuck.." You whine out, your hands finding his shoulders, holding on for support.
• hear me out. He's a switch and leans towards sub!! I said it, bam.
• and to that, he is 100% a whiny and whimpery baby!! Craving praise 24/7.
• Definitely against being degraded, if you degrade him, he'll start crying and ask you if he did something wrong. (COMFORT THE BABY!!!)
• He loves it when you call him a good boy, and he'd call you mama if you do.
"M-mama.. go faster please" He whines out, closing his eyes tightly in pleasure. You move your hand faster, stroking his cock at a faster pace due to his request. He throws his head back against the plush pillows, his fingers curling as he grabs onto the sheets. His cock twitches in your hand, pre-cum oozing out of his tip. "Look at that.. such a good boy" You praise, which leads him to get closer and closer to his release.
• He's eating you out for hours if you ask. (Or if he begs enough) he doesn't do it for his own pleasure, though. He wants you to cum as many times as you can, he wants you to drench his face in your delicious juices.
• And in return, you'd suck him off, milking him for what he's worth.
You drop to your knees, looking up at him through your eyelashes. You reach up, undoing his belt. "May I?" You ask, and he nods quickly, shuffling a little closer to you. "Please.." He whispers, and you comply, taking out his hard, leaking cock. You stroke him a little before taking him in your mouth, letting out a soft hum.
• he is a man who'd love his hair pulled! Like he'd LOVE it when yall are making out and you just tug on his hair a little, or when he's eating you out. PULL. HIS. HAIR! Man will go FERAL.
----------------------
Thank you for reading! I appreciate it, let me know if yall want some like little extended drabbles/fics of the hcs! I gladly will, I already have 2 of them that I plan to extend in the future but lmkk💞
Taglist:
@jennwonwoo
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The crew & using toys on their S/O in bed please with a cherry on top??
First time writing the whole crew kinda nervous 🤭🤭 I'm not writing Swansea tho I will NOT be writing nsfw of a married man
Tw/cw; Afab!reader, winners love winning in Anyas hcs (use of the term pillow princess), jorkinit jumpscare
Not proofread
Curly
I'm actually not sure if he'd be into toys
I've literally only written for Curly so I'd say I'm a Curly expert, and I just don't think he'd be into toys
He'd use a vibrator on you every now and then, but he'd just use it to tease you and make you beg for him.
He'd probably use cock rings. I am a firm believer Curly would use cock rings. Not all the time, but if he's had a really stressful day at work, he's wanting an extra hard hitting orgasm.
Omg not a toy but APHRODISIACS!!! This man would go crazy for some aphrodisiacs, whether he's taking it or you are.
Now I wanna write a wedding night one shot with Curly and aphrodisiacs thanks a lot anon 😔😔😔 I've got enough shit to write already
Anya
I don't care what any of you say this woman is a pillow princess
YOU'D be using toys on HER
She'd also be a cryer but that's not the point
She'd have a drawer dedicated to sex toys. She's trying to get into med school, she's CONSTANTLY stressed, how else is she supposed to release some of that stress? Don't judge her.
She wouldn't be into straps or dildos, she'd be into shit that vibrates. Vibrators obviously, rose toys, anything that stimulates the clit honestly
I lied she is into dildos this woman is a sucker for a RABBIT!!! Like I said, if it vibrates, she wants it.
Her favorite combo is the rose toy/vibrator + pussy licking. She cums so fast, then gets embarrassed, then begs for more. Praise her a bunch and she'll be able to go a few more rounds
BONUS CONTENT!!; she has a Christina and Princess Albertina, no further comments
Daisuke
Oh yeah, he's using toys.
He has a tongue piercing and sometimes he'll swap it out for a bar that vibrates but y'all aren't ready for that convo
He's gonna use the basic toys, nothing we haven't gone over yet. Vibrators, rose toys, cock rings, ect. He's just trying to figure out what he likes for right now, and he likes all of them
In missionary, he'd hold either a vibrator or rose up to your clit while he fucks you. Kind of uncomfortable as a position, but if it gets you off, it's worth it to him.
Not sure if this is considered a toy but he'd be interested in sounding. He's definitely had you try it on him once or twice, and he never lasts for more than a minute 😭 poor boy
He's just trying new things out. He's new to having a committed relationship, so anything you'd be into, he'd be willing to try. He'd let you peg him if you wanted, but don't ask me to write that.
My pegging days are over
Jonathan
The kinkiest cunt that ever cursed this god forsaken ship
Toys are a must have for him. On you, not him. He only likes using them on you, because it gives him a sense of power over you.
He'd be one of those assholes that would put a bluetooth vibrator in your panties and wait till you're in public to turn it on the highest setting. Like an asshole
Jizzdaddy would have a lot of toys. He'd have one of those robotic dildo setups that like.. idk does the thrusting how the fuck do I explain this????
You guys get what I mean if you've ever been on a porn site you've seen one
Anyway, he'd have one of those setups and watch it fuck you. Ass up, head down, grasping at whatever you could since HIS sadistic ass turned it up to the highest speed.
Eventually hed get pissed off and fuck you himself, claiming that you love the toy more than you love him 😔 the allegations are true but he doesn't have to know that
He'd also use plugs on you. In public, too. He doesn't care. If you humiliate yourself, that's your fault, not his.
vibrators are used during sex, nothing new. But it's the same situation as before. Claiming you love the toy more than him, so he stops using it.
Sometimes he'll just give in though and decide he doesn't care, and wants to tease you more than anything. Highest speed it can go, or the slowest. No in-between. He'll have you begging one way or another.
Chat I hate writing rough characters someone request ooc soft Joshua hcs so I can write him like I do Curly 🙏🙏🙏
A/N; Anya makes me wanna kiss girls
#mouthwashing smut#mouthwashing curly#mouthwashing x reader#jimmy mouthwashing#curly mouthwashing#jimmy x reader#daisuke mouthwashing#daisuke x reader#anya mouthwashing#anya x reader#why are there so many ship tags this is genuinely disturbing#curly x reader#captain curly x reader
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"I think I fuck you better than your stupid porn videos, little pervert."
✿ Word count: 3082
✿ Summary: You were just trying to relieve some tension after an intense study session, without imagining that the person you hated the most in the world would find you in an inappropriate situation.
✿ Content warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!
F!reader x Heeseung, academic rivals, plotless porn, public place masturbation, mention of pornography, rubbing against clothes, PIV, sex in a public place (even though no one sees them), unprotected sex, creampie, Heeseung is a provocateur and talks WAY TOO MUCH, nicknames: (bitch, whore, princess, little pervert), nipple play, compliments (?), Heeseung has a big cock (?).
✿ Note and clarifications: this is probably very bad, since I've never written anything. English is not my first language either, so there are probably many spelling mistakes, in addition to it not being proofread. The main idea came from a spicy AI chatbot, but I couldn't find it SORRY IF IT'S REALLY BAD, DON'T HATE ME
You have always demonstrated your competitiveness because Heeseung has always been ahead in everything, but you... You were always the second, and that bothered you day and night; you hated him for his privileged position, maybe you felt a bit of envy, just a bit.
He pretended to be the ideal guy. Yes, he was charismatic, attractive, insightful, elegant, the class leader, stylish, outstanding in sports, hot... So fucking hot... You definitely hated him.
...
It was approaching 5 PM and, despite the bell having rung about an hour and a half ago, you were still in the classroom because you had a lot of assignments to complete. It had been a day full of responsibilities that had your hair standing on end, so just as you finished your tasks, your body collapsed like jelly in your chair while you let out an exhausted sigh.
You momentarily looked at the ceiling before taking your phone out of your purse and accessing one of your favorite porn sites. It was one of your little favorite pastimes whenever you felt frustrated and just longed for someone to push you against a wall and fuck you until you were utterly spent.
The more you watched, the more you felt your body heating up. As you looked to the sides, you lightly bit your lower lip, making sure there was no one around while you slid your hands over your breasts and abdomen before reaching the hem of your skirt and lifting it, then slipping your fingers into your underwear, lightly brushing your already wet folds.
You adjusted your position in the chair a little more, then lifted your fingers slightly and pressed them against your clitoris, beginning to make circles on it.
You quickly immerse yourself in pleasure, tilting your head slightly back and clenching your jaw to stay silent. Your hips began to rise, seeking greater stimulation. You are so close, your orgasm is creeping up your neck, until you hear a guy ask, "Why do you do it alone when you have me?"
The sound made you jump slightly and stop, bringing your hands to your lap with your face as red as a tomato and your heart racing.
Your orgasmic haze didn't allow you to immediately process whose voice it was, so you searched the room with your hazy eyes until they landed on Heeseung's figure, who was casually standing a few meters away from your body, looking at you with an arrogant smile and his hands in his pockets.
You huff angrily as you close your eyes tightly, readjusting your position in the chair reluctantly and turning off your phone. "Shouldn't you be fucking one of the cheerleaders in the bathroom or something?" Your voice comes out cocky, trying to sound relaxed despite my vulnerable position.
He chuckles softly, advancing serenely towards the classroom with a predatory gleam in his eyes as he approaches you. His imposing figure looms over you. "You always try to get rid of me, don't you? But we both know you don't want that..."
He leans in, placing his hands on your desk, bringing his face closer to yours. While murmuring in a husky voice. "I saw what you were doing, little naughty one. Don't you know it's wrong to give yourself pleasure in a place like this?" He smiles disdainfully as one of his hands slides down to rest possessively on your thigh, squeezing the delicate flesh through your skirt.
You take a deep breath as I shift slightly against the chair. The contrast between his warm palm and the coldness of his rings sends you a shiver down my spine. "Well, I find it more inappropriate to spy on someone while they are enjoying a private moment".
He let out a soft, mocking laugh, without changing his stance towards you. "Private moments? Please, there is nothing private about masturbating while watching pornography in a classroom." His voice comes out deep and the way he speaks feels so disgusting. "And regarding spying on you... Well, let's just say I occasionally keep an eye on you..."
His hand slowly moves up your thigh; the tips of his fingers brush the hem of your skirt. "You are desperate for attention, even if it means getting caught in compromising positions. "It's almost pathetic, really."
He tilted his head and observed your blushing face with a smug smile. "Tell me, have you ever fantasized about someone doing the same things to you as in those videos?"
You swallow nervously as you clench your thighs tightly together in an effort to stop his hand from seeming to sink deeper and deeper between your legs. "Why do you ask? Have you fantasized about being the person who does those things to me?" My voice comes out almost in a whisper.
He easily spreads your legs apart again with a firm grip. "Oh, I've fantasized about many things involving you, like bending you over this very desk and fucking you senseless until you beg for mercy." Your heart almost leaps out of your chest upon hearing his words.
He presses his body against the desk between the two of you, holding you in place while his free hand reaches out to tangle in your hair. He leans towards you and bites your earlobe before whispering, "I've imagined being the one to drive you crazy." He pulls your hair a little harder, making you let out a soft gasp of surprise. He is so close to your face that it seems like he is going to kiss you. "That way, I would show everyone that you're just an envious bitch, always behind me because you need me to fill you up with my cock until you can't take it anymore."
You are so astonished by the simplicity with which he pronounces his perverted and degrading words towards you that you just stand there, looking at him with wide eyes and your heart pounding against your chest.
Realizing that you can only look at him with astonished and embarrassed eyes, he lets out a defeated sigh before releasing your hair and getting up from his position. "You're a fucking coward," he states as he turns around and moves to leave the room. "You're a fucking coward," he says as he turns around and walks away, intending to leave the room.
You feel your blood boil at his words, not because he called you a bitch, a whore, or because he confessed how much he wants to fuck you, but simply because he called you a coward and envious.
You feel your blood boil at his words, not because he called you a bitch, a whore, or because he confessed how much he wants to fuck you, but simply because he called you cowardly and envious.
You stand up from your chair, and the sound of your materials spilling onto the floor due to the force with which you rise causes Heeseung to turn towards you, confused, catching your face red with anger and embarrassment. "What did you call me?" you mutter as you clench your fists at your sides.
Heeseung raises an eyebrow at you. "Bitch?" he questions. "Coward" you correct.
You slowly approach him, trying to look confident, but your steps remain uncertain and trembling.
Once you find yourself standing in front of him, you grab the collar of his shirt, and you smash your lips against his.
He lets out a furious sigh that he didn't know he was holding back before returning the kiss with a suffocating hunger, as he places his hands on your waist and presses your body against his, savoring the way your breasts press against his.
His tongue soon delved deeply into your mouth, savoring your saliva mixed with his, eliciting a gasp from you.
His body began to push you backward, guiding you during the kiss towards the desk. Once there, you pulled away from the kiss, looking at him with narrowed eyes. His beautiful swollen lips, his slightly red cheeks, and the collar of his shirt that was once perfectly arranged are now disheveled.
He smiled; that damn arrogant smile is the same smile he gave you after mocking your intelligence and skills, the same smile he gives when he corrects one of your contributions in class, the same smile he gives after having you tongue-tied.
He leans over, placing his hands on either side of his body on the desk. "Ah, so the little pervert is revealing herself." One of her legs pushed between yours, forcing you to open them and pressing her knee against your center.
"Stop calling me a pervert, idiot", you practically spat in his face.
"I think you're being too pedantic considering I can feel your wet pussy against my leg." To prove his point, he starts pushing his knees against you repeatedly.
The constant rubbing of the fabric of your wet panties against your clitoris makes you tremble and sigh. Unconsciously, your hips move in unison with his leg. "I'm only wet because you interrupted my orgasm a few minutes ago, definitely not because of you", you manage to say before a strong push from his leg makes you moan.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, princess, it was very rude of me to interrupt you; maybe I should make it up to you." He leans towards your neck and starts kissing your neck. Your hands grip his shirt tightly in an attempt to keep yourself grounded.
Something inside you bubbles; the feeling of anger and longing is intoxicating. A part of you just wants to hit him until he cries, but another part of you wants to rip off his pants and suck his cock until he cries. Before you can determine which feeling prevails, his fingers are quickly working on the buttons of your shirt while leaving a trail of wet kisses all over your chest.
He briefly pulls away from your barely covered breasts by your cute bra. "You are beautiful", he declares, completely absorbed. The abrupt change in his words and the tone of his voice make you feel weak; it's as if your body has surrendered to him.
Your hips start moving desperately against him, feeling how occasionally your thigh brushes against his solid erection, which only serves as an incentive to move harder.
One of his hands moves to the small of your back to help you move against him, while the other slides your bra down and frees your breasts. He doesn't resist and brings one of his nipples to his mouth. With force and abundant saliva, causing a bit to escape from his mouth and slide down your chest.
The moans that escape your mouth are dirty, incoherent words. You feel your legs thrashing around his thigh as your orgasm approaches.
"Heeseung..." His name comes out so softly, so gently, barely audible, but he hears it, he definitely hears it. His head quickly turns away from your chest to look at you with the most serious expression you have ever seen on his face. "I... I am close..." You don't understand why you're notifying him, but there's something in his behavior that makes you feel so submissive.
"Let me help you with that." He brings both of his hands forward and lifts your skirt, exposing your completely ruined panties, which makes him laugh. One hand holds your skirt, and with the other, he slips a finger into the hem of your panties to move them aside, allowing your bare clitoris to rub against the fabric of his pants.
It's rough, strange, and delicious. You place all your weight on his legs while you continue chasing your orgasm.
The sight of your small, swollen, and wet clitoris makes him sigh and tense up in his pants. "Come on, go ahead, I want to see that cute pussy ruin my pants."
Her words seem to be enough to make you come with a muffled moan of her name. Your hands grip even tighter against his shirt and you bury your face in his chest in an attempt to muffle your moans.
A few seconds later, when your euphoria dissipated, you slowly withdrew your face from his chest. He reached for your face with one of his hands, gently squeezing your cheeks. "Obviously, this turned out to be more effective than doing it yourself." He stated with a playful tone. "Although... I still haven't had enough fun."
He grabbed you by the shoulders and forced you to turn around and press your face against the desk. "Heeseung." You call him firmly, quickly understanding what he is trying to do.
His hands slide your panties down your legs and lift your skirt until it is rolled up at your waist. "You have a very nice little butt." He gives one of your cheeks a hard slap, making you jump and try to move away from the desk.
"Heeseung, we shouldn't..." You try to plead, but he grabs your hair roughly and pulls your body back towards the desk, exerting an even more intense pressure on your body than before.
"I'm not asking for permission." Then, you only hear the sound of his belt buckle, followed by the sound of his pants falling to the floor.
"I can't wait to fill this hole with my cum." He took his cock between his fingers and tapped its tip against your wet entrance, making his pre-cum mix with your arousal.
He aligns his red, dripping tip against your center. "Yes... It should fill you up so much that when you walk down the halls, my semen slides down your legs", he murmurs more to himself than to you.
His cock slides easily into you because of how wet you are. Once it hits bottom, a guttural moan escapes from both of you, and he throws his head back in pure ecstasy. "And when people notice and question you about it, you'll have to say it was me who went all the way." At this point, he was simply rambling.
You feel like it's piercing your uterus; your walls are incessantly struggling to accommodate its size. "Too, too... Big..." You gasp almost without air as you scratch the desk beneath you.
"Shh... Shh, calm down...". Her hips begin to grind against yours in an animalistic rhythm. "I know it's deep." He whispers in a tone that tries to be comforting.
A hoarse moan flows from his throat, causing you to tighten uncontrollably around him. "You're so fucking tight." He groans. "I should have at least inserted three fingers before fucking you." He was lying; he was fascinated by the almost painful way you squeezed him.
Again, he takes a handful of your hair between his fingers to pull you away from the desk, leaving your back aligned with his chest.
He takes your face in his hand and turns it so that your face is in front of his. What's wrong? "Why don't you say anything anymore?" He gives a particularly deep thrust that makes you moan and grimace with pleasure. "You're always so grumpy, but now that you have a cock inside you, it seems like you can't even think."
When you try to respond, a stream of nonsensical words and gasps comes out of you, making him laugh and his laughter echoes against your back.
"You are so tender" The sweet and affectionate way his words come out of his mouth surprises you so much that you turn your face a little more towards him, looking into his eyes through your lashes wet with some accumulated tears and a fucked-up, but so in-love expression.
His free hand, which isn't holding your face, moves to your lower abdomen, pressing right on the bulge of his cock. You follow him and bring one of your hands to his, intertwining your fingers with his.
The world seems to be completely silent, except for Heeseung's gasps and your sharp moans; you feel nothing else apart from the heat radiating from his body against yours.
He starts leaving wet kisses on your neck. "Fuck, you're so wet, so tight, so beautiful..." You are a bitch perfectly made for me. Growls in your hatred.
Your legs start to tremble; the knot in your stomach tightens even more. "Seungie... I'm close..."
"Yes? Are you going to squeeze your little pussy while you cum really hard on my cock?" he asked with a tone that, under other circumstances, would sound very cocky if it weren't for the pathetic moan that accompanied it.
You just nod desperately, not caring how pathetic you might look right now.
Before you realize it, your walls tighten around Heeseung. "Just like that, cum all over my cock." He pushes your body back onto the desk, pressing your cheek against it
His thrusts are careless and aimless as he chases your orgasm. "I'm going to fill you up so much that I'll leave you ruined for anyone else who tries to sleep with you."
You moan overstimulated as your juices start to drip out of you, creating a completely obscene splashing sound.
"My semen will stay so deep inside you that you'll never be able to get it all out." He presses his chest against your back, crushing your body against the writing. With one final thrust, the head of his cock buries itself in your womb as he spurts.
The sensation of his semen so deeply makes you feel relaxed and yet overwhelmed.
They stay like that for a moment, trying to properly process what just happened. "Get off me, you're suffocating me", you complain with an obvious lack of breath.
Heeseung laughs as he slowly pulls away and slides out, then gently takes you by the shoulders and helps you stand up and turn around so you are facing him.
You try to stand up straight, but your legs tremble and fail, so you almost fall to the ground if he hadn't held you tightly.
"I think I fuck you better than your stupid porn videos, little pervert."
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
#enhypen#heeseung#heeseung smut#heeseung × reader#heeseung hard hours#heeseung hard thoughts#enhypen smut#heeseung imagines#heeseung drabbles#enhypen imagines#enhypen × reader#kpop smut#enha x reader#enha imagines#heeseung enhypen
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NSFW Sevika HCs
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A/n: i haven't written any smut in god knows how long so pls go easy yall 😭
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This is a dom
I love indulging in the bottom!sevika content when i come across it, it's beautiful, showstopping
But bby, you only get to do what she lets you do. Even when she's on bottom, you're never really the one in charge, no matter how you might try to convince yourself
She's a terrible tease, and has an absolutely filthy mouth. Loves watching your jaw drop slightly when she whispers things in public, and how you scramble to gather yourself
Her self-control and patience is absolutely insane. She's not one to jump your pants at the first tease you give her.
She'll let you have her fun, all while running the tip of her tongue across a canine and plotting her revenge
Gets a big head/ego if you call her mommy. Nearly loses her mind and reputation for restraint if you call her daddy
A lot of her turn-ons are things that aren't inherently sexual. I like to think she's attracted to both masc and fem-presenting people, and anything leaning deeper into these characteristics will get a rise out of her.
Ex.'s -> watching you put on makeup in the mornings, specifically lipstick/gloss. Conversely, how your thighs look and your face hardens when you manspread while striking a deal. When you look up at her and rest your hands on her chest. When you lean back and rest your arm over the back of her chair
Particularly masculine and particularly feminine things. She eats up both
Absolutely a bit of a sadist/madochist. We know this from the whole cait thing
She's obsessed with your mouth in particular. The marks you leave, the shapes it makes with certain sounds she pulls from you, how your lips wrap around her fingers when she teases your mouth open with them
She rarely ever has you on your back because she wants to watch your tongue loll and your eyes roll
Goes crazy for certain things you say when you start to reach melted brain levels of fucked out; "baby, it's too much…" "Sevi, i can't keep going" "no, baby, no more…" it's like a second wave. And, (always) only with your emphatic consent, she'll proceed to push your body even more
Her favorite position is missionary i'm sorry lmfao. Vanilla in theory, but definitely doesn't feel like it when she's slinging that shimmerstrap LOL
I HC she's generally pretty gentle with you, at least lovesick!sevika is. In the sense that she's not tossing you around or slapping your ass purple.
Rather, she'll wrap her hand around your throat but not really squeeze. And she'll push her fingers down your throat until you're teary-eyed, but she won't fuck your throat until it's raw and sore.
She prefers using her hands and her mouth, but her strap game is insane. That stroke would be hypnotic to watch.
Her eyes read clearly when it comes to intimacy. The way they darken and narrow when she's about to pounce on you, and how they always get so glossy and self-satisfied (if not a bit smug) as she watches you cum.
Her crows feet crease as she smiles down at you, whispering "good job, baby" and "there's my girl, you're okay. I've got you."
Always insists on taking care of you afterwards, but won't fight you on it if you flip it on her and make her lay back so you can clean her up
In fact, please do this. She'll think about it for weeks
Cuddles you afterward like she's trying to burrow in your skin. Can't get enough of the smell of you post-sex, burying her nose in your neck and your hair
Yeah, she's never sharing you. Everything about you is too precious, too hers.
She demands hickeys/lipstick marks on her chest- over her heart- because your claim over her deepens her own.
#arcane#sevika#arcane sevika#sevika x reader#sevika headcanon#BOOMSHAKALAKA YES GODD YES GODDD#ubebones writing
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A Simple Guide to Not Being Afraid to Write Comments to Fic You Read
I've seen a lot of posts about the current state of fanfiction comments. Writers, especially writers who have been in fandom for a decade or more, are frustrated by the lack of comments, and have noticed a definite decline in comments (and all other forms of reader interaction) in the past ten years or so. Many readers feel daunted by the expectation of leaving comments, afraid they'll do something wrong. As a fandom old maid, the latter confused me for a while, until I realized that most of the people who feel that way probably have not been taught this form of communication.
But your loving fandom elders are here for you. Come along as your auntie tumblr user icemankazansky makes this shit easy.
The easiest way to think of fanfiction comment etiquette is to compare it to something you likely already know: Gift Receiving Etiquette.
Fanfiction began as largely a gift economy. And a lot of it still is! You'll see authors participate in exchanges like Yuletide and Id Pro Quo; those are ficswaps in which authors write for a specific person to specific prompts. And even outside that, fanfiction is not written for money; authors write and post it simply for the joy of creation and community with fellow fans. Fic is posted free for anyone to enjoy. Is that not a gift?
So. When you as a reader finish the chapter or story you're reading and you are faced with the comment box, try to follow the same etiquette you would when receiving a gift. (And even if you didn't love this gift and it's not your favorite gift ever, we already know that it's more useful than the products from your cousin's MLM that they're passing off as gifts, because you read the story. At the very least, it entertained you for the time you took to read it.)
The big rule of gift receiving etiquette is not to insult the person who gave you the gift, either directly or indirectly. That's it. Full stop.
I've been seeing a lot of comments lately that are just along the lines of, "Thank you for writing this story and sharing it with us." A+, top of the class, full marks, you're doing amazing. If you don't feel comfortable commenting on the story itself, that is perfect feedback. And that's the most basic way you respond to a gift, yes? Thank you for the gift. Thank you for thinking of me. Thank you for sharing.
Does this rule mean that you cannot say anything at all that might be negative about anything? No, absolutely not. What you want to avoid is saying something that is, at its core, a negative evaluation of the author or their work. Let's do some examples.
Character A's obliviousness about Character B's MASSIVE crush on them made me so frustrated! I was tearing my hair out internally screaming, "JUST LET HIM LOVE YOU."
✔️ Excellent comment! You're allowed to have all sorts of feelings about things that happen in the story, and in fact authors LOVE to hear about any emotions they made you feel. Yes, frustration is not a positive emotion, but the thing you are expressing frustration about is not the author themselves or their shortcomings.
Contrast that to:
I was really frustrated that it took you so long to post this chapter. The cliffhanger at the end of the previous chapter had me tearing my hair out, and then you just left us hanging FOREVER!
❌ Nope! Here what you are expressing is frustration with the author and how fast they come out with new chapters. Imagine your sister buys you a gift for your birthday, but she isn't able to give it to you until the next week, and you respond with: "What took you so long?" I think Emily Post would frown on that.
Reframing
The way you say something and the point of view from which you give feedback can have a HUGE impact on the message you're sending. Let's take the last comment (the one about wanting an update) and see what happens when we reframe the same sentiment as a positive:
I was SO EXCITED to see that you updated this story! I have really been looking forward to seeing what happened after the cliffhanger in the last chapter.
✔️ Now it's not an insult. The author will be happy to know that you are happy to see new work from them.
This idea extends beyond the story itself: to the fandom, the characters, the pairing, the tropes, etc. Let's do some examples.
I looooove reading about these sexy boys SO IN LOVE even though the movie you're writing about is SOOOOO problematic.
❌ Nope! Assume that the author enjoys the canon, characters, pairing, etc. in the stories they write. This comment is insulting to the author because it basically says, "That thing you love is not great, and you should probably feel bad for liking it." Imagine your aunt gifts you a sweater from a popular retailer, and you respond with, "This is so cute, I love it! It's a shame that it was made in a sweatshop." Do you have a valid point about the canon or the retailer's business practices? You very well might. Is this the proper time and place to talk about it? Absolutely not.
Let's do a reframing exercise. You should be very careful about how you approach commenting negatively on anything in the story that appears in the tags list, but you can make it a compliment and good feedback if you have the right perspective. See the difference with these two approaches:
I kind of think frottage is disgusting, but I liked it in this story.
❌ Nope! You just told the author you think their kink is disgusting. That's like telling your poor aunt who is just trying to keep you warm this winter that she has awful taste in knitwear. Try again.
Frottage normally isn't my kink, but I love your other stories with this pairing, so I decided to give it a try, and I'm SOOOOO GLAD that I did! This story was 🔥🔥🔥
✔️ "This normally isn't my thing, but you made me expand my horizons!" Authors love to hear that. That's like telling your aunt, "I never thought this color looked good on me, but I look so cute in this sweater! I'm so glad you helped me step outside my comfort zone, because I'm the better for it."
thank u, next
The last thing I want to address is this new trend I've seen in commenting lately: placing an order. If your mom surprises you with new headphones, you don't respond with, "I wanted the white ones 🙁," or, "You should get me a new phone, too." It's easy to see why that isn't appropriate in a gifting situation, and it's also not appropriate when commenting on fanfiction.
Let's do some examples:
This fic was soooo cute, but it would have been a million times better if Character A had been with Character C instead of Character B.
❌ There are a few things going on here. Number one, you're telling your mom you wanted the white headphones, not the ones she actually bought you. You're also disparaging the A/B pairing that the author chose to write about, and as we discussed, we can assume that the author wrote the pairing because they liked it. Even if it's not their favorite and/or they also write A/C, they made a choice for this story to be A/B, and the comments section of a fic is not the place to question choices the author made in their own work.
You should write a story where Character Z who is not even in this story does [thing that is vaguely referenced in the B plot].
❌ "You should get me a new phone, too."
I want a sequel. 😞
❌ "Thank you, next!"
You can reframe this kind of sentiment if you are careful about it, and it's not all you say.
I really loved this story. I would be so interested to see these ideas explored further if you ever decide to write more in this universe.
✔️ Not "gimme." Not "more." This is, "If you build it, I will come." It is a HUGE difference.
You already know how to do this. You know how to graciously accept a gift; just use that same etiquette, and boom! Now you know how to fearlessly write a comment to fic you read. You're doing amazing. Go forth and comment.
#fandom#fanfiction#commenting#fanfiction etiquette#emily post please help me express my feelings about this yaoi
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LET'S PLAY
pairing: ghostface!Abby x reader x ghostface!Ellie
synopsis: you've always been afraid of scary movies, but when abby recreates one of her favorites with some help from her best friend... lets just say you face your fears.
warnings: fear kink (?), threesome, pussy eating, strap usage, gendered pet names, double penetration + anal [r! receiving], face riding [e! + r! receiving], scissoring [a + e], very brief gendered talk ("but my sweet girl can take it, can't she?"), unrealistic squirting
wc: 2k
a/n: hi guys! to be fully transparent with you guys, I've been extremely busy over the last couple of weeks and have no chance to write. on top of that I'm extremely under the weather right now, so this is the only Halloween shot I have written. 😭😭 I'm really sorry that it worked out this way, maybe I can finish and post the others later on!
it was halloween. finally halloween. and the conditions were perfect. the dark night sky was filled with grey clouds that stuck out from the moonlight, fog had been gathering all day, so that once trick or treating started for the little kids and partying started for the older kids, it was just right. you had different plans on your mind, though. tonight it would be just you and Abby, with movies, popcorn, and definitely some costumes.
in all honesty, halloween scared you in the slightest. the movies that Abby often wanted to watch were gruesome, and you wound up with your hands over your eyes, merely listening to the shrieks and stabbings. abby loved it, though, so you found it in your heart to get over it.
that fear, however, resurrected itself when the clock passed eleven, knowing she was supposed to be home at nine-thirty. you had texted her a number of times at this point, even called her, with no response. it was more than strange; in all the years you and abby had been together, she had never, ever missed a halloween.
at a certain point you sighed and got off the couch, accepting that she apparently just wasn't coming home. you went down to your room, changing and laying down to sleep. you tossed and turned, not used to a bed without her body in it. after a while, you laid on your back with a huff, grabbing your phone to text her again.
before you could press send, you heard an aggressive jingle of the lock on the front door. it didn't stop, and you were slammed with the feeling that someone was trying to to get in. someone was trying to to get in. a bat hid behind your door, and you ran over to grab it before leaving your bedroom. you looked over your shoulder, into every room, but you didn't see anything. the kitchen was dark once you walked into it, and as you went to flick the lights on, you felt a strong hand on your hip that pulled you back, covering your mouth with their other hand.
the bat was ripped from your hands by a second person, and you screamed, but the hand covering your mouth was gloved and masked the sound. you could feel the captors heart beating and their chest rise and fall.
“sorry I'm late,”
it was abby. abby who followed you through your house and abby whose hand was over your mouth. the lights flicked on and you were faced with a different person, dressed in a ghost face mask and it's matching rags. you pushed out of abby's grip and turned to face her, realizing that she also had a mask on.
“what the fuck abby?” you quietly shrieked. “what was that? you scared me.” the light caught the knife in her hand, and suddenly a pit developed in your stomach. it was fear, flat, undoubtable, fear. “why do you have a knife?” she walked towards you slowly until your back was against the wall.
“don't worry baby, we're just gonna play,” her large body encased you. “you remember ellie, don't you sweet girl?” you nodded slowly, tears welling up in your tear ducts. “my poor baby, don't cry, we're gonna be real nice to you.” when she said that, you finally came to the realization as to what was happening. this is why abby loves the scary movies. she likes the control; the fear. you relaxed. “do you trust me, pretty girl?” you looked at her through the mask and nodded slowly. “do you trust me to not hurt you?” you nodded again.
“let's play then, baby.”
that's how you ended up here, on your back, with ellie on your face and abby between your legs. ellie had a hand in your hair, forcing you to look up at her while you ate her out. she was grinding down on your tongue, chanting your name as she chest rose and fell quickly. she had definitely already come, but she was using you to get off.
abby, however, had a strap buried deep in your cunt. you two hadn't used a strap before, you didn't even know where she got it, all you knew and could think about was how much she was filling you. the mask was still covering her face, but you almost got off to it. she had your legs pushed up to your chest, drilling her hips into your ass over and over, going even after your orgasm had lit up your body.
finally she let up, but you knew you weren’t even close to done. ellie got off your face and they both looked at each other, as if they were coming to a conclusion by just looking at each other, then they both looked over at you. abby discarded her mask and tossed it into the pile of clothes, loosening the harness from her hips and throwing it along with everything else. “get up,” ellie said, replacing you as you stood up. “sit on my face, sweets. face abby like the pretty thing you are.” the position was weird, but somehow it worked. you were backwards on ellie’s face, but her skilled tongue still managed to find everything you needed just right.
abby lifted ellie’s leg up, shifting herself between her lifted leg and her dripping center, rolling her hips down until they were both moaning. with the hand that wasn’t keeping ellie’s leg steady, abby grabbed you by the throat and brought your lips to hers, moaning into your mouth as your tongues met. ellie was so good at eating pussy, you almost didn’t want to pick between her and abby. maybe tonight meant that you could have both of them whenever you wanted.
ellie fucked you with her tongue while her thumb found your clit, spreading your wetness and her saliva over it and rubbing in rhythmic, slow circles. you were all but pushing all your weight onto abby, who was still riding ellie’s pussy. now, though, her head was back, neck exposed. you regained your headspace slightly, just enough to run your lips along her neck and suck. your lips traveled to her tits, marking her in a way you hadn’t before.
you stopped as soon as you felt your orgasm building quickly, instead opting for your previous option of grabbing her for support. it seemed as if you both were in the same boat, because her face scrunched up in focus, like it did every time she came. your head was on her shoulder as you came, whimpering at just how good it felt. ellie didn’t let a drop miss her tongue.
abby stood up, and you zoned in on how both of their pussies were covered in each other’s cum. your pupils were wide, your mouth was basically hanging open with drool. abby looked at you and chuckled. “wanna clean me up, sweetheart?” you got up from the bed and kneeled in front of her, assuming that’s what she wanted you to do, and waited for her to spread her legs. she leaned against the wall and propped her leg up on your shoulder, letting you lap at her until everything was gone. it tasted so good, so much like abby with a hint of ellie. it was the perfect blend.
though you wanted to lick up ellie too, she had already cleaned off with a bed sheet. “I have one more thing to try, if you’re up for it, baby.” you nodded profusely, and both girls looked at each other with a smirk. “get on the edge of the bed in doggy.” you did as told, putting your knees on the edge of the bed and arching your back so that your face was in the comforter. “good girl,” abby cooed, reaching down to pick up her harness and clip it on again. ellie also pulled one out from the jumble of clothes, and you wondered where hers was going to go. in the bedside drawer, abby pulled out a small bottle of lube, which she must have snuck in at some point earlier in the day to prepare.
earlier, when all of this started, you didn’t need lube, so you couldn’t understand what that was for. until both girls walked behind you. you felt the tip of one of their straps rubbing against your ass and you leaped forward, ill prepared. “this is gonna be a big stretch, baby, but my sweet girl can take it, can’t she?” you hummed at abby’s words, sucking in a harsh breath as her strap entered a new place. it was certainly different, but it felt so good. it was just the stretch you wanted, and it got even better when you felt ellie running the tip of her strap up and down your folds.
when ellie pushed her strap into you along with abby’s, the earth froze. “fuck, babe, look at your slut,” from what you could see, they were both admiring the way your stretched for them. You weren’t going to deny that it hurt a little, but with the way they were looking at you and the way ellie kept hitting exactly where you needed to plus the stretch of both of them, it made up for the slight discomfort.
once they gained a rhythm, you had them railing you at the same time, strokes hard and fast, with ellie’s large, skinny hands wrapped around your waist to keep you up. your hands grasped the bedsheets tightly, listening to your body as you neared closer and closer to finishing. there was another feeling building, one you hadn’t felt before, but you made an effort to ignore it. The closer you got, the noisier you became, moaning and grunting with every thrust until you were twitching on the edge of release.
the weird feeling that you were ignoring came back hard and fast, sitting somewhere strange in your bladder. it was like the urge to pee, but with some form of pleasure to it. they pulled it out of you with their harshness, making you squirt hard as you finished. you rolled your hips back at how strong your orgasm was, tears running down your face and creating a pool on the comforter.
you felt strangely empty as they both pulled out, unclipping both of their harnesses yet again and tossing them. “you did such a good job angel. let’s get cleaned up.” you all showered together, then abby surprised you with matching pajamas. ellie was packing up her stuff and you frowned.
“stay,” you said, and she looked up at you and smiled. “we can watch a movie. you can leave in the morning. don’t drive home in the dark.” she sat her backpack down and climbed into bed with the both of you. abby rolled over to grab the remote and turned on scream, just for the irony.
taglist: @inukastan1 @elliecoochieeater @pepperflakess @hastasupern0va @jazzys19 @purring4elliewilliams @decaffeinatedclodbagelweasel @lonelyfooryouonly @heyimrye (if your not tagged it said your account did not exist, I apologize)
#abby anderson#tlou2#abby anderson smut#tlou#abby smut#abby anderson x reader#abby tlou#ellie x abby#abby headcanons#abby fanfiction#abby the last of us#abby x reader#ellie smut#ellie x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie the last of us#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie x fem reader
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THE BOOTH - LN4
summary : The booth. A notorious club in the heart of london, where y/n and lando met again after two years of silence.
listen up : fewtrell!reader. She sits in his lap. no smut, just hot and suggestive. creepy guy in the beginning! Prob my fav short i’ve written omg
word count : 1732
⋆。‧˚⋆
“No.” I giggle out of uncomfortableness at the man getting closer to me.
“C’mon, let me buy you a drink.” the man reeks of alcohol and has fucked up teeth. I’ve seen enough. I pull down the bottom of my mini dress as I stand.
“No.” I repeat, pushing past him. The club is crowded and sticky, I see my friends but a hand around my wrist pulls me back.
“Really? Too good for me?” He scoffs in my face but the next thing I know he’s being pushed away from me.
“She is.” The voice comes from the man in front of me, the guy who pushed this dickhead away. “Piss off. She’s with me.”
The guy seems intimidated enough because he gives me a dirty look and leaves. “Thank y-” I pause when the man turns around.
I pause because the man is my childhood crush, brothers best friend, and fucking formula one driver.
“Lando?” I’m genuinely shocked that the britt I haven’t seen in two years is standing in front of me.
“Y/n!?” He looks me up and down, his mouth open, “Fuck… You look good.” I could say the same for him, in a navy button down, jeans, and his jewelry adorning his hands. He’s ridiculously hot.
I laugh, “Careful Lan, my brother could be lurking.” I switch my weight onto one leg as he smirks.
Max loves Lando. Max loves me.
Therefore, Max HATED the thought of us even speaking. We were all friends in childhood but our teens hit and suddenly I was completely off limits. I’m pretty sure he noticed how much I asked about Lando and swore that he would kill both of us if anything happened.
Someone walks behind him, causing him to get closer, his hand brushing against my hip, “Don’t scare me, yeah?”
I bite my lip at the thought, we start walking across the room, Lando’s hand firmly on me now as he ‘guides’ me. “Don’t worry. Idiots in Monaco… which means we have free rein.”
I see his jaw clench, his drink slide onto his lips again, “I’d like to keep my friendship.”
“I’d like to lose my panties.” I’m quick to reply, messing with Lando used to be my favorite thing.
You see, Lando is Max’s best friend. He feels bad lying and this would definitely be considered a betrayal of trust.
But for me… Max is my brother. I can lie and do whatever I want with no remorse. Lando is something I could do easily and as much as it would make me happy to piss off my brother, Norris has always been that one guy in the back of my mind.
“Christ Y/n. Missed your remarks.” We make it to the wall, it’s a bit quieter over here.
“You mean you missed my flirting?” I look up at him, he just bites his lip, hiding his smile.
“I missed you.” He surprises me with this.
“I missed you too.” I push my hand through my hair, “How’ve you been?”
“Good. Really good.” He smiles big and I know it’s because of his racing.
“Watched your win in Zandvoort.” I sigh, “Simply lovely was brutal.” He rolls his eyes, laughing and leaning his head back on the wall.
“Not you too!”
“It was hilarious! I liked it!” I hit his arm and the way he looks at me… it’s like every emotion that I've tucked away and only opened up in the darkness of my bedroom after midnight, comes out then. “I like this too.”
My hand goes to the back of his neck, playing with his curls that shape his baby mullet.
“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head, his eyes cut into me, his voice weak.
“What?” I say innocently.
“You always do this.”
“Do what, Norris?” Lando never was that much taller than me, but something about the two passed years has changed that.
His tongue runs over his teeth, he’s about to say something but two guys appear next to us, “Mate! We’ve been looking for you!” Another British man speaks, Alex Albon to be exact.
“Found a friend?” Carlos sainz eyes me, dressed in all black.
I smile at the drivers, Lando eyes Carlos. “Max’s sister. Y/n.” They both nod and look much too interested in how Lando says it, “Y/n… this is Alex and Carlos.”
“Pleasure.” I smile wide. I am an F1 fan, it’s a bit weird seeing Lando on the grid but I’ll sit and watch with Max almost every weekend that we’re together.
“Pleasures all ours! I’ve always wanted to meet Lando’s childhood crush!” Lando hits Carlos, making him grab his stomach, “Worth it!” The Spanish man chokes out.
Lando scratches the back of his neck, not looking at me. “Are you here with anyone?” Alex asks me, I knew he would be nice.
“Yeah! I’m not sure where they are but…”
“That’s okay. You have us now!” Alex and I end up getting a drink, Lando stays back with Carlos who’s definitely teasing him.
I get a vodka lemonade and four shots. Alex and I are already best friends and laughing so hard that Carlos and Lando won’t stop asking us what’s so funny.
They don’t know that I showed Alex a photo of Lando and I as smurfs when we were five.
⋆。‧˚⋆
LANDO NORRIS
Describing Y/n is something i’ve done many times. To friends, for context in stories, but if i’d really describe her… I don’t think I would have an ending point.
She’s got long blonde hair. She cut it all off when she was fifteen and I almost fainted when I didn’t recognize her. She loved it.
She’s confident, you can see it in her walk. Her hips sway and the click of her heels is something I'll never forget.
When she talks to you, all attention is on you, her eyes are hazel, appearing brown in the dark but if you get close enough… you’ll see the green.
She never quite had an awkward stage, always been beautiful, probably always will be. I haven’t seen her in years yet she acts like I talked to her yesterday.
Y/n sucks on a lime after her shot, smiling and clapping her hands together, “God, I feel like i’m in highschool!”
I obviously didn’t go to school with her. She’s a year younger and Max would non stop complain about her. She was more popular than him, going out, and was basically friends with everyone.
I remind myself again that Max is the reason why my arm is around the couch and not her waist.
⋆。‧˚⋆
Y/N
“Norris!” I stand, holding out my hand, “Picture time.” I smile as he stands with me.
“What?” Carlos asks.
“Called the booth for a reason, Sainz!” I grin at the boys, gripping Lando’s hand tight and maneuvering us through the crowd.
There’s one photo booth in the back corner of the club. It’s notorious for famous photos and making everyone look good.
I look back at the boys who all look confused. All except Lando.
We came to the booth when Lando was in town from F2, we were 17 and 18. Max had gone off with some girl and we found ourselves in this exact booth.
We swore never to talk about it.
But I’m all for repeating history.
“Fewtrell…” He warns in my ear as we walk to the starred booth.
I glance back, dragging out his name, “Norris.”
He gets in first, unlike us as teens, only one person can fit. I smile and watch Lando’s face drop, I sit down on his lap, “Playing with fire here, love.” he says in my ear.
“I don’t mind getting burned.” He slips two coins in, his hand moving to my waist and holding me steady.
We smile first.
SNAP
I move a bit and give him bunny ears.
SNAP
Lando clears his throat, gripping my skin tighter as he looks at me. I move again, my skirt riding up a bit. “Trying to kill me?”
I smile and kiss his cheek, feeling something hard against me.
SNAP
“Of course.” I look at him, “The memories in here… You remember?”
“I’d be an idiot to forget.”
His hand moves down my hip, closer to my thigh. I look at him again as the photo booth starts up for the second time, “I shouldn’t.” He whispers, my face centimeters from his. I hear the whistles outside.
I shift once more, turning more to him. He groans, his head falling backwards and his eyes closing, “Give me a good reason.”
SNAP
He opens his eyes, meeting mine. I know I've got him. My hand rests on his neck, my rings pressing against his skin. He mumbles something but it’s too loud, “Speak up, Norris.”
“Never spoken.” His eyes flick to my lips, trying to get me to promise this is a secret.
“Never ever.” He leans in closer.
SNAP
“Come on rule breaker… I believe in you.” I whisper in his ear and it breaks him. I’m pulling his head closer to me, his lips on mine, a relief like no other.
He grabs ass, pulling me closer in the tiny space. I slip my tongue in his mouth, whimpering a bit. He bites my lip. I’m melting into him. It’s hot and needy but so much more than I could have ever wanted.
SNAP
Kissing Lando at Seventeen was scandalous and drunken. Kissing Lando at Twenty Three flat out sexy.
“Need you…” He whispers into the kiss which makes me almost come undone right then and there.
Someone bangs on the booth, “Alright Lovebirds!” Lando laughs but I'm the one to pull away.
“I can’t leave this booth.” He says quickly, his face red and sweaty.
“You’ll be fine-” I understand what he’s talking about when I go to leave and something brushes against my leg, “Oh.”
He looks away from me, blushing.
I smile, proud of myself for the boner and his pink cheeks, “Aw come on! I’ll cover you.” I wink and he rolls his eyes, He walks out behind me, his arms firmly on my waist again.
The two drivers grin at us, “You covering a boner?” Carlos starts but gets punched for the second time tonight by Lando. He holds his stomach again, “Still worth it!”
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#lando norris fanfic#f1 imagine#lando norris#lando x reader#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#lando imagine#lando norris smut
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ABOUT YOU | LUKE CASTELLAN
pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader
request: luke x reader fluff w like an aphrodite!reader? reader is all sunshine and flowers and makes luke all soft/campers teasing luke abt the way reader changed him 🤭
word count: 1.6k
a/n: this is probably my favorite luke fic that i've written so far thank u so much anon for sending this request in! writing aphrodite!reader is so much fun, i'm such a sucker for the opposites trope. hope you all enjoy 🤍
You were the human embodiment of sunshine, a real life angel. Gentle, kind, and lovely— in other words, the complete and total opposite of Luke Castellan. He was dark and broody, strong and rough, and not totally unfriendly, but definitely intimidating.
But even if you weren’t the daughter of Aphrodite, Luke believed that you would still be just as beautiful. There was something in the way you carried yourself that had made his heart surrender the second he laid eyes on you. You became the one and only exception in his long list of grievances.
So it came as no surprise to anyone at camp when the two of you started dating, just to the dismay of many of your admirers and a few of Luke’s as well. If there was one thing you had in common, it was your beauty. With his puppy dog eyes and curly brown hair, Luke was a sight for sore eyes, almost as much as you were.
One day, you were walking hand in hand when one of the younger campers accidentally bumped into Luke. On any other occasion, Luke might have started an altercation, but today, he simply smiled and said, “Just be careful next time.” The camper stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked into place as you softly giggled.
“What?” he smiled, looking over at you as the kid took it as an opportunity to run away.
“Nothing,” you mused. “Just that I think you’re getting soft, Luke Castellan.” You poked a finger at his chest playfully.
“What?” he shook his head. “No, I’m not.”
Though he attempts to keep a serious face, you could see the amusement in his eyes. He often looked at you like this, ready to go along with anything you said— no matter how silly or whimsical your remarks.
“Okay, lover boy. Whatever you say,” you shrugged, offering him a kiss on his cheek that instantly causes color to rush into his face. Ignoring that he’s just proven your point, he attempts to hide his expression by seeking solace in the crook of your neck. He would never admit it to anyone, but he often thought his favorite place at camp was the spot in between your jaw and collarbone.
Even though most of the campers were still a little frightened by the idea of approaching Luke, his closest friends were not afraid to speak their minds.
“Dude, you’re like, totally whipped for her,” Percy remarked over lunch once.
“And you’re like, totally fourteen years old,” Luke said.
“I think the fourteen year old’s right,” Chris jumped in.
“Dude! I thought you were supposed to have my back,” Luke throws up his arms in mock aggravation.
The two boys snickered, causing Luke to speak up again. “I am not whipped for Y/N.”
“Oh, sure,” Chris began. “So the reason you’re practically skipping around camp and letting whatever team Aphrodite cabin is in win Capture the Flag is because…?”
“Oh, and don’t forget the constant checking his phone to see if she texted back and sharing his blanket with her at the campfire!” Percy pointed out. “Meanwhile, I’m over here freezing…”
“Maybe,” Luke scrambled to come up with an answer. “Maybe, I was just in a really good mood those days. It could have absolutely nothing to do with Y/N.”
He barely believed the words himself, and Chris and Percy were certainly not convinced. Luke wasn’t even sure why he felt the need to defend himself.
“Dude, it’s okay if you are, she’s literally your girlfriend,” Chris said.
“Hey! I have an idea, let’s ask Annabeth!” Percy declared.
“Annabeth? Why her?” Luke furrowed his brow.
“Because, she’s a girl. And she’s known you the longest, she can give us a real answer,” Percy said matter-of-factly.
Luke thought it over. The young boy was technically right, Annabeth was like a little sister to him. If anyone could tell if he had changed since dating you, it would be her. This came as both a good and bad realization to him, because what if he had changed? Gods, was it that obvious?
Before he could agree to asking Annabeth, the young girl was already at their table. Percy must have called her over while Luke was thinking.
“What’s up?” she asked, sitting down across from him with her plate of food.
“Oh, nothing, just talking about how soft Luke has gotten since he started dating Y/N,” Chris explained with a grin on his face.
“Oh?” Annabeth said, seemingly amused.
“Yeah, we actually wanted to get your opinion,” Percy continued. “Would you say you agree or disagree, that you know, Luke is nicer now that he’s with Y/N?”
Annabeth seemed to think it over for a second. “Gods, you guys are such children,” she scoffed.
“Thank you!” Luke cut in.
“I mean, all of you,” she looked at Luke pointedly. “Why do you care what a bunch of kids think about you anyway? And not that it matters, but you, Castellan, are most definitely whipped for Y/N.”
That shut Luke up immediately, and caused cheers to erupt from Chris and Percy, who were clapping each other on their backs as if they had just won Capture the Flag.
Annabeth smiled and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say “Sorry, Luke. It’s true.”
Later that night, Luke snuck over to the Aphrodite Cabin to find you. You were surprised when Luke woke you up, it had been a while since he came seeking your comfort in the middle of the night. He used to have bad nightmares, but you noticed he had gotten better since you started dating. You’d like to think it was because of you, but perhaps that would be thinking too highly of yourself.
In an effort to clear his mind, you suggested to go on a walk together. He agreed, and you climbed out of bed as quietly as you could.
You allowed him a few minutes of silence until his heavy breathing had slowed down and his grip on your hand had loosened.
“What’s on your mind, hon?” you asked softly.
Luke didn’t respond at first, distracting himself by tracing the lines on the palm of your hand. You were happy to give him as much time as he needed, placing your other hand on his back and gently drawing circles.
After a while, he did speak up. “Uhm, do you think that I’m, like, unapproachable?”
Your heart sank and you stopped in your tracks. “What makes you say that?”
“I don’t know, it’s just something that’s been on my mind recently.”
“Luke, is this about what I said to you the other day? Because I didn’t mean it like that—”
“No, baby,” he rushed. The last thing he wanted was for you to think you had done something wrong. He wasn’t sure that you could ever do wrong, not in his eyes. “I was just talking to Percy and Chris at lunch today and they were kind of teasing me.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of your boyfriend, Mr. Tough Guy, being teased by a few kids younger than him. “I’m sorry, babe. Continue,” you placed a supportive hand on his chest as you regained your composure.
“They said that I’ve changed since we started dating.”
Though you were an expert in human emotion, there were still times you couldn’t read the expression on Luke’s face. You couldn’t tell if he thought of this as a bad thing, or if he was just curious to see what you thought. You decided on the latter. “Changed how so?”
“They think I’m soft now because I’m always in a good mood and stuff…” he trailed off. Even now, in the dark of the night, you could tell he was blushing.
“Well,” you started, trying to find the right words. “You know, I was just teasing you the other day, babe. I think you’ve always been this way.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I think you’ve always been a giant teddy bear,” you grinned, unable to contain yourself. “Luke, you’re not as bad as everyone thinks you are.”
By now, both of you had stopped walking. Ever since Luke arrived at camp, he had been characterized as the tough, stony, and slightly antagonistic guy. All because of a scar he carried and the stories of what he had gone through with Annabeth and Thalia. Many people were still intimidated by him, despite his position as the counselor in Hermes and his job to welcome newcomers. It had been so long, he wasn’t sure if this was the way he was, or the way that he was made to be.
As if reading his thoughts, you said, “You don’t have to be what they tell you to be. Do you know the words I use to describe you when someone asks me about you?”
Unable to speak, Luke simply shook his head.
“Gentle, kind, and lovely.”
Luke wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but certainly nothing close to the words you had chosen. “You do not,” he objected.
“I'm serious, baby,” you placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him in until your foreheads were touching. “I think you’re the most wonderful and caring guy I’ve ever met. I think you always have been, you just don’t always show it.”
He stared at you intently before pulling a loose strand of hair out of your face. You kissed the top of his head, “I must be one lucky girl.”
“Hey, if there’s one thing I’m sure about, it’s that I’m the lucky one,” he said, before pulling you in for a kiss.
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#percy jackson series#percy jackson#pjo#charlie bushnell#charlie bushnell x reader#luke castellan imagine#percy jackson x reader#pjo x you#luke castellan x you
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DELICATE ─ psh. ☆ (teaser)
does love ever cross the line?
# genre: rich kid!enemy!sunghoon x fem!reader, forbidden love, enemies to lovers, slow burn, family feud, non idol au
# warnings: substances, lots of pining/angst, cursing, insults, mature jokes, implied sex, I have no idea how businesses work plz don’t roast me
# featuring: sunghoon & enha! + le sserafim
# playlist: delicate by taylor swift, take care by beach house, love by kendrick lamar, babydoll by dominic fike, hurts so good by astrid s
# a/n: hello all! been a long time :,( my life has taken several turns since I started this account, and I've been so preoccupied with my own bs that running this blog is becoming harder than ever... hence my little disappearing act. but I don't want to disappoint u guys! this fic was supposed to be released several months but it completely slipped my mind :( I decided to log in once again to finally let you all see it! I hope you like it and I hope to be back again soon 💓 much love to all my dedicated readers and I appreciate you all more than you know!
# word count: 13.2k
# taglist: @lovialy @minniejenseo @powerpuffstuts @mnxnii @idkdykilr @ionlyreadforfanfics @heelovesmeknot @100520s @simjyunnie @scrumptiousloser @eneiyri @pinkkami @milkycloudtyg @enhypenlovre @pinkkami @m3chigo @saythenameseventeen178 @desistay @capri-cuntz.@taerifin @ohmykwonsoonyoung @vixensss
# unable to tag: @hohohobo
this was written upon anon request; check it out here!
when your father’s company cratered after a faulty business deal, a vendetta was formed between your family and the biggest export company in south korea. but that rivalry begins to falter when you fall in love with the ceo’s son.
[more under the cut!]
You hated the business world.
It was ruthless. Bloodless. It had no heart and no compassion. It taught you that humans were created to tear their own kind apart; it was a dog eat dog world.
A couple years ago, your family’s company went bankrupt, and you blamed it all on the Park Company. Fine, maybe your father held some culpability for throwing his business away in a deal that was obviously so faulty. But naivete and malice were entirely different things altogether; one was mostly harmless. The other? Not so much.
The Park Company was the most ruthless corporation in the business world. Working in any kind of business guaranteed running into them sooner or later. And now, not only had they run your business into the ground, they owned over ¾ of your company’s wealth in stock. Not that it was worth much anyway.
Well, it turns out fixing your father’s mistake was a little harder than you thought. Reviving a company from the dead was difficult, especially when public opinion wasn’t exactly favorable. So you made the riskiest decision yet; to start from scratch. You invested all your family’s ruined fortune on establishing your dream hotel. Even if it was the last thing you did, you would have more than a ruined corporation as your legacy.
With ten cents to your name and a pipe dream, you managed to create what would later be the most successful hotel chain in South Korea. Your wealth grew, and so did your reputation. Some praised you for making such a comeback, some degraded you for your family’s mistakes. And it definitely didn’t help that your father became a raging drunkard after his failure, raving the streets like a maniac. You even considered having him taken out just so he’d stop damaging your reputation, but you decided against it. To you, it didn’t matter. Your success was your only concern.
Destroying your life was all in a day’s work for the Parks. They were so obscenely powerful, that losing a mere company like yours was like losing an eyelash. Meaningless. You were nothing to them.
You hated them with a vengeance. They didn’t even know your name.
Or so you thought.
☆☆☆
Awards banquets were Sunghoon’s least favorite part of being in business. Forget the ruthlessness and backstabbing, dressing up in a suit and pretending to be successful blew all that warfare out of the water.
“It’s too tight.”
“It’s fine. You’ll be fine. Just stop complaining.”
“I’m not kidding, Jake. Loosen it or I’ll kill you.” Jake sighed, tugging on the navy blue tie until it was hanging loosely around Sunghoon’s neck, a stark and messy contrast to his crisp black suit and neat button up.
“Jesus Christ. After fifteen years, you’d think you’d know how to tie a tie.” Jake said, shaking his head as his best friend checked his hair in the mirror.
“Are you sure we have to go to this thing tonight?” Sunghoon huffed, brushing a stray piece of hair into place.
“Don’t be stupid. You’ve been going to these galas since you were six, and dragging me along with you.” Jake scoffed, pushing Sunghoon’s head from behind and ruining his hairstyle yet again, the latter glaring at him.
Jake Sim, heir to the Sim corporation. An airplane manufacturing company that was this close to going under when the Parks took pity and bought nearly all their stock. These days, their company was worth next to nothing, but young Sunghoon took Jake under his wing, and there was no escaping now, to his chagrin. Though they’d never admit it, they had grown very fond of each other.
“You love it.” Sunghoon teased, tearing his eyes away from the mirror after checking his hair a last time. “God, I can’t believe we’re still having these idiotic galas. Everyone just knows they’re a coverup for big corporations to distract from the fact that they’re abusing their poor workers.”
“Nobody cares these days. Put a bow on anything and the media will eat it up.” Jake said, adjusting his tie before slapping his friend on the shoulder. “Ready to ruin some lives? Destroy some young futures?”
“Not funny.” Sunghoon warned, pointing his finger at Jake while trying to tug on his shoes with the other hand. “You know how much I hate the company.”
“Say that as much as you want, but you’re still wearing shoes bought with your daddy’s blood money.” Sunghoon huffed.
“Hm...I suppose you’re right.” he said, putting his hands on his hips.
“C’mon, let’s get you to the ball, Prince Charming.” Jake dragged Sunghoon out of the room by the wrist, locking it behind him, Sunghoon in tow.
Sunghoon sighed. God, how he hated his life. A legacy built on deception, and nothing he could do about it. Him and Jake made their way to the elevators, his dull eyes disappearing behind the closing doors.
He didn’t belong anywhere. Certainly not here.
☆☆☆
On the other side of the city, you were having an entirely different conversation.
“Take that off, Chae.” you said, biting into an apple. Your red lipstick bled into the fruit as you stared judgingly at Chaewon’s enormous diamond necklace.
“But it’s so pretty.” she crossed her arms, but you gave her a stern glance and she turned around to change with a roll of her eyes. “And you, put that out.” you swatted at Jay’s hand, a lit cigarette perched between his two fingers, roiling smoke spilling from the top. “You’re gonna make my new dress smell like smoke.”
“Jeez, what’s got your panties in a twist?” Jay asked, putting out his cigarette on the corner of the coffee table, which made you frown. “No need to stress. You’ve done this business routine a million times over.”
“I’m just nervous, I guess.” you said, hands fidgeting in your lap.
“I thought you didn’t care what the Parks thought about you.”
“I don’t.” you said firmly, tongue poking into the flesh of your left cheek. “I just want things to go smoothly, that’s all.”
“So you’re not gonna stand up to those fuckers that ruined your life? No protest?” Jay asked, resting his chin on his hand. “You always wanted to take them down.”
“Of course I do. But tonight’s not the night.” you sighed, rubbing your forehead, smudging your foundation and cursing when you realized what you had done. “I just want to be put together, just for one night.”
“Well you certainly look the part, honey.” he said, eyes trailing over your floor length red gown. “You’re a proper businesswoman.”
“I hope so.” you laughed.
“You’re gonna kill it. I know it for a fact.” Jay said, pressing a kiss to your cheek before standing. “Now let’s get you to this ball.” You grinned up at him, getting to your feet and brushing the dust off your skirt with determination.
“Let’s show these people who the Queen company is.”
☆☆☆
When the email stated “an intimate gathering”, you didn’t exactly expect nearly 300 people crammed into a dancing hall. The building was bursting at the seams to hold all the milling guests as they sipped on champagne and dined on fine food, laughing boisterously, teeth chattering. You hid your mouth behind the rim of your glass. You didn’t want to talk to a single person tonight.
Across the room, Sunghoon was doing the same. He had just about enough of the noise, and was considering running to the bathroom to hide when his father clapped him on the back and engaged him in a conversation he didn’t care about.
You wished you could escape.
He wished he could escape.
You stood, leaving your empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter as you walked around the crowded hall, searching the crowd for anything of interest. Your eyes landed on the desserts, and you beelined for the table of sugary treats, hoping to at least find a bit of solace in them, head down as you avoided the public eye.
Your hand bumped into another’s when you reached for the tiramisu.
“Oh, excuse me.” he said softly. He was beautiful. Dark eyes, silken hair and pink lips. His posture was straight as a ruler, shoulders back and a kind look on his face. It was almost too cliche, running into this beautiful stranger.
If only you didn’t know who he was.
You turned to look at him, eyes meeting. “It’s you.” you said, and he stiffened at the sight of your face. “I was wondering when we would meet.”
Sunghoon wasn’t expecting the daughter of the Queen Company to be so beautiful. Sure, he had seen pictures, but they had never done you justice. And putting a face to the name was suddenly making him dizzy.
“Hello.” he said politely, avoiding your eyes as he gulped, throat dry. “I’m Park Sunghoon. Son of the Park company president.”
“Oh, I know who you are.” you waved him off. “No need for introductions between us. Time is valuable, let’s not waste it.”
“And patience is a virtue, so let’s make time.” Sunghoon said, smiling a tight lipped smile with his hands behind his back.
You looked at him skeptically. You didn’t think it was possible for Sunghoon to be more of a prick than you expected him to be, but he had somehow done it.
“Y/n Y/l/n,” you said, holding out your hand for a handshake. “President of the Queen company.” Rather than shaking your hand, Sunghoon bowed his head, his lips brushing over your knuckles as he held your hand, pressing a chaste kiss to it.
“Charmed.” he said, and your brows raised instinctively.
“I’m sure.” you scoffed, pulling your hand away and rubbing it on the side of your dress in disgust. Sunghoon’s eye twitched. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m rather busy.”
“With what, buzzing around the dessert table?”
“With running a business.” you snapped, turning on your heel and walking away as fast as you could. Sunghoon watched, listening to the faint clicking of your off-brand heels against the marble floor, shaking his head the moment you were out of sight.
He totally fucked that up.
“Jesus, that guy is more of an asshole than I thought.” you huffed, taking your assigned seat and placing the desserts you had gathered on the table, Chaewon excitedly reaching for a mango pudding.
“What, is that even possible?” Jay asked, sparking up another cigarette. You swatted the lighter out of his hand, and he scowled.
“Apparently so.” you sighed, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms. You couldn’t wait for this night to end. You could feel eyes on you from all sides, judging, watching your next move. Waiting for you to fuck up, waiting for you to make a mistake or a rash decision they could broadcast to the media.
“I think we started off of on the wrong foot.” you heard a voice say from behind you, and you craned your neck to meet the eyes of Park Sunghoon, yet again. Those damn dark eyes. Swimming with emotion.
“I think there’s a reason for that.” you responded sharply, quick as a whip.
“Let’s start over. What do you say?” he grinned, leaning his head down until he was at your level, ignoring the stares he received from your friends.
“I say I’d rather die than become acquainted with you. Sorry.” you said very unapologetically, pleased with the put-out expression on his face.
“Well,” he said, straightening up and adjusting his jacket indignantly. “Doesn’t someone have an enormous chip on her shoulder.” Your smug expression crashed, morphing into a scowl. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/l/n.” With that, he stalked away, nose turned up and an unpleasant look on his face.
“Stupid piece of shit.” Jay said, sparking up his cigarette with the lighter he retrieved from the floor. You didn’t try to stop him, just stewing in your own displeasure. You couldn’t believe that audacious bastard. Was he aware that his family was the sole reason for the ‘enormous chip on your shoulder’?
You tried not to let it get to you, and quickly gave up. Suddenly, this was feeling all too real, and you got to your feet, brushing off your dress, bunching it in your hands. You felt like you were going to throw up.
“Bathroom.” you mumbled, pushing your way past to get to the exit.
☆☆☆
If you didn’t know better, you’d think Park Sunghoon’s spirit was haunting you on purpose. The only thing convincing you otherwise was the fact that he was alive and well –to your chagrin.
You sat, fuming from your office as his snotty face stared at you from a newly mounted billboard across the street, a wide smile on his face as he endorsed some brand of cologne. So not only was he a scumbag businessman, now he was some kind of model? It turned your stomach to think about it.
“I want that billboard down, now.” you grumbled, dropping your head onto your desk in despair as Jay watched you with amusement.
“I can get someone to set it on fire, if you want.”
“Not necessary, but I appreciate the thought.” you said, standing and pacing around the room restlessly. “We need to take them down.” Jay snorted, taking a seat in one of your office chairs, twirling around comfortably.
“What, take down the biggest corporation in the country? It’s not as easy as it seems, honey.” You glared at him, continuing to pace. “Look, don’t get me wrong. I wholeheartedly support your ventures to destroy Park Sunghoon, but don’t you think your fury is a bit misplaced? His father is the one that destroyed your company.”
“Evil by association.” you waved him off. “Plus, he’s rude.”
“Can’t disagree with that.” Jay took a long drag. You hadn’t even noticed that he lit a cigarette, and you rolled your eyes at him.
“You seriously need to stop smoking.”
“I’ll stop when you stop seeking vengeance.”
“...Touche.”
☆☆☆
You seriously needed a vacation from work. After five 16 hour shifts, the exhaustion was beginning to set in. You couldn’t even remember the last time you went out with friends. A couple of years ago, there wasn’t a weekend where you, Jay and Chaewon weren’t in some hole in the wall drinking until you forgot your failures. But ever since your company took off, you didn’t have time for that behavior. But that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy a good dive bar now and then.
You snuck through the entrance of your favorite dive bar on the East side of the city, your slip skirt waving in the wind as you nodded to the security. This was the only bar in South Korea that wouldn’t sell you out to the papers, and besides that, they made a damn good Manhattan.
There were less than 10 people in the whole place, an odd couple here or there and some folks in need of a pick-me-up. You took a seat in the middle of the bar, your usual seat at the end taken by a sodden boy with a big hood that covered his face.
“Hey, Won.” you greeted the bartender as he wiped his hands with a towel, smiling at your entrance.
“Hey, y/n.” he said, throwing the towel over his shoulder. You heard the man beside you stir. “Manhattan?”
“You know it.” Jungwon reached for a bottle of whiskey, expertly mixing and measuring like it was muscle memory, finishing your cocktail with a flourish and sliding it over the counter. You had gone to high school with Jungwon and Sunoo, the two men who owned the bar, and had been friends ever since. You trusted them.
“How’s the business?” he asked, leaning with his elbows resting on the marble. “Saw you on the news the other day. Said you stormed out of the Park’s gala.”
You sighed, “Yeah. It’s been a tough week.”
“I hear that,” he said, straightening up with a grin. “You’ll get through it, stronger than ever. You always do.” you smiled, pressing the rim of the glass to your lips.
“Thanks, Won.”
“No problem. Just kick those greedy bitches in the ass for me.” That elicited a chuckle from you, Jungwon smiling upon hearing your laugh. “I’ll go get Sunny. I’m sure he’ll wanna say hi.”
“I’d love that.” you said gratefully, watching as Jungwon weaved around the back of the bar and into the back room. You looked down, sipping your drink, lost in thought.
“What are you doing here?” A grating, angry voice interrupted your haze. You turned to the boy sitting beside you, and it felt like you lost your buzz in an instant.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” you said, staring into the dark eyes of your nemesis yet again, this time foggy with drunkeness. “You seriously had to find the one place where I could escape your face?” he asked bitterly, taking another swig of his vodka soda.
“My face? There’s a sixty foot billboard of your face outside my window.” you grumbled, and he snorted gracelessly. You could tell by his hoodie being pulled forward and his bangs covering most of his face that he was trying to hide, just like you. “I’ve been going to this bar for four years.”
“Lucky you. I just found it last week.” he took another sip. You suddenly felt silly sitting multiple stools away from him, but you’d be damned before moving closer. “This is the only place that won’t sell me out to the press,” he sighed. “And their bartender is pretty damn good.” You observed the four empty glasses sitting beside him, the way he was slurring his words. Clearly he had come here for the same reason you had.
“Won’s a pro.” you said, averting your eyes. The Sunghoon before you was throwing you off. He had humanity, and you hated it. It gave you a reason to hate him a little less than before.
Jungwon emerged from the back, a bright faced brunette in tow. Grateful for the excuse to end the conversation with Sunghoon, you leapt out of your seat and rounded the bar to pull the man into a hug.
“Hey, Sunny!” you said brightly, and he grinned.
“I didn’t get a hug.” Jungwon rolled his eyes, reaching for a bottle of tequila to complete another order.
“How’ve you been?” Sunoo asked, releasing you to get a good look at your face. “Wow, it’s been awhile since you’ve been in here. You look all adult-like.” You scoffed, brushing him off. “Where’s Jay and Chae? I haven’t seen them in months.”
“I didn’t tell them I was coming.” you admitted.
“Ah, one of those nights?” he asked, and you nodded. “You busy working? I’ve seen you in the news, the company’s looking good.” Sunghoon snorted from beside you, and you resisted the urge to glare.
“Pretty busy, yeah. The business world is a battlefield right now.” you said with a pointed look at the man beside you who slammed his glass down on the counter.
“Another.” he muttered, and Jungwon looked him up and down skeptically.
“I think you’re done for the night. I’ve gotta cut you off.” Won said decisively, and Sunghoon looked up at him with glassy eyes.
“Fuck, whatever.” he said, getting up from his seat and drunkenly stumbling, tripping as he dismounted from the stool, using the counter to steady himself.
“He doesn’t look so good.” Sunoo said quietly, and you watched him, poking your tongue into the flesh of your cheek in confliction.
“You need help?” Jungwon said, ready to assist as he clapped a hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder, but the older boy shook him off frustratedly.
“I’m fine, get your hands off of me.” he stuttered, swiping at him.
“Hey, I’m just trying to help.” Jungwon said defensively, shaking his head as Sunghoon tried, failing, to make his way to the door. You huffed, setting your drink down and abandoning the last sip as you made your way to him.
“Hey, stop being an idiot. Let’s get you a taxi.” you chastised, and he scowled.
“I don’t want help from you.” Sunghoon mumbled, and you rolled your eyes.
“You’re drunk, Sunghoon. It’d be a nightmare if the news caught you wandering on the street.” That made him think, and he begrudgingly wrapped an arm around your shoulders, refusing to speak.
“You need help?” Sunoo called after you, and you waved back at him.
“Don’t worry, I know him. Put the Manhattan on my tab.”
“It’s on the house, angel. Get home safe.” Jungwon said, and you sent him a grateful wave as you attempted to get Sunghoon out the door, shutting it behind you.
“Why are you doing this?” Sunghoon said, almost incoherent. “You could’ve sold me out to the press. To get your revenge.” You pondered his question, then shrugged.
“I can’t say I don’t want to.” you admitted. “But you’re vulnerable right now. I know what it feels like to be blindsided when you’re defenseless. I wouldn’t do that to anyone. Clearly not even my worst enemy.” Sunghoon snorted.
“You’re a good person.” he mumbled, his eyes practically closed with the weight of his exhaustion and intoxication.
“Take notes.” you chuckled as you texted your driver, simultaneously attempting to get Sunghoon over to a bench. “I called a car for you, so just sit tight.” You both sat in silence, staring into the dark city, breath fogging in the air.
“I am sorry, y’know.” Sunghoon said, nose and cheeks red from the cold air. “About what my father did. I never would have condoned it if I had the power to stop him.” You stared at him blankly, before the corners of your lips turned up.
“Thanks. You must really be drunk.” He chuckled in response.
“Yeah, maybe.” He shook his head.
“Y’know, Sunghoon,” you started. “I hope you run the company the way you think it should be run. Stand up for yourself.” He didn’t respond to that, just staring at the floor, twiddling his thumbs.
“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I think I will.” A car pulled up to the curb, and you sighed in relief. Sunghoon stood up, insisting he was fine when you tried to help.
“Goodbye, Sunghoon.” He looked back at you in silence, before nodding.
“Get home safe.” And with that, he shut the door of the car, the engine rumbling as he turned the corner and disappeared into the night.
☆☆☆
Park Sunghoon was an idiot. And he was finally beginning to accept it.
He woke up with a pounding headache, grimacing and gripping his forehead in pain. It felt like there was an 80 decibel bass pounding his head, and he blamed it all on the vodka soda. And you, of course. You were making his head spin.
He stumbled out of bed, attempting to shove his feet into the slippers next to his bed, confused to find that they were pink and at least three sizes too small.
“Morning, sunshine.” a feminine voice called, and Sunghoon was beginning to realize that this wasn’t his home at all. He froze as a beautiful young woman stepped out from the bathroom, a lush robe wrapped around her body. “Feeling sober?”
“How did I get here?” Sunghoon asked, dropping back onto the bed as the woman snickered, reaching into her closet.
“You were on the floor whining and crying outside the office building. I took you home when the press got wind of your theatrics. Remind me to get a key to your apartment copied if you’re gonna keep acting like this.”
“You don’t need a key, Yunjin. Don’t be stupid.” Sunghoon rubbed his head, frustrated. He didn’t even remember going to the office in the first place, much less being picked up by her; aka the daughter of his father’s closest business partner, aka the woman he was predicted to wed if all things went his family’s way.
He wasn’t partial to the idea. Neither was she.
“A thank you would be nice.” Yunjin rolled her eyes, emerging from the closet fully dressed, already on the phone and pulling on a pair of high heels. “Now get out of my apartment. I have to get to work.” She tossed him a key and a fresh tee shirt from her closet. “Get dressed and lock up when you’re done.”
“Got it.” Sunghoon said, rubbing his eyes and pulling the tee shirt over his head. Yunjin looked back at him, tongue poking into her cheek.
“My mother still wants me to marry you, y’know.”
“Well she and my mother have that in common.” He rolled his eyes. She frowned.
“You’re too careless, Sunghoon.” The door shut, and Sunghoon was left to think about her words. His mind raced as he recalled the night before.
Your kindness.
Your smile.
How he apologized and didn’t think twice.
He shook his head, shuffling to the kitchen and opening the fridge, the cold tile pressing against his feet. Maybe he was too careless.
☆☆☆
The room felt stuffy, and so did your nose. You wondered if you were catching a cold, or if you were just allergic to business dinners.
“Hey, y/n.” Jake said, taking a seat beside you. You wiped your nose, flashing him a tight smile.
“Hey.” you replied, looking at your lap. Jake was one of the rare people you respected, and part of that was due to his company’s failure, like yours. He had built it back up to its former glory, but remained humble. You didn’t mind him. He was sweet.
“You seem bored.” he said, watching as you stared at the floor, clearly ambivalent toward what was happening around you.
“Astute observation.” you chuckled under your breath.
“I get it. These dinners can seem like a chore.” he said, picking up his wine glass by the stem. “Trust me, I’ve been going to them since I was six.”
“Lucky you.” you snickered. “Why do you even bother?” “Sunghoon always drags me here one way or another.” Your mood visibly dampened at the mention of his name, and you took a sip of your wine, hiding your mouth behind the lip of your glass. “How are things between you two?”
“If he dropped dead, I wouldn’t cry at his funeral.” you cleared your throat.
“But you wouldn’t cheer either?” Jake grinned, and you rolled your eyes.
“Whatever.”
“Baby steps.” he laughed, and you failed to suppress a smile. “I’m happy nonetheless. It’s nice to see you get along.” You wiped your nose again.
“That’s a stretch.” you scoffed. As if summoned to disprove you, the presence of Park Sunghoon suddenly entered your view, his hands tucked into his pockets. You couldn’t help but notice how nice he looked when his hair was pushed back.
“Mind if I borrow the lady for a moment?” he cleared his throat and Jake stood, flashing you a knowing look when Sunghoon wasn’t watching.
“Point taken.” you grumbled, as Jake snickered to himself, making himself busy on the other side of the room. After a moment of hesitation, Sunghoon took his seat.
“Hi.” he said slowly, and you nodded in acknowledgement. The energy was painfully awkward. “Um, I just wanted to say sorry about the other night. I haven’t really gotten a chance to contact you or anything, but I am sorry, and I should’ve called-”
“It’s fine.” you said tightly, shaking your head. “It happens.”
“Not to me.” he said defensively. “Look, I only apologize once in a blue moon, so just let it happen.” That elicited a chuckle from you.
“Alright. I accept your apology.” you said amusedly, and he let out a sigh of relief. You watched him blow a piece of hair out of his face, his lips parting for a moment to let out a breath. You averted your eyes when he caught you staring. He truly was beautiful.
Sunghoon’s thoughts were similar at the moment. While you avoided his gaze, he watched the way your eyelashes batted, pushing a strand of hair out of your face.
“I gotta go.” Sunghoon cleared his throat, and you nodded, eager for his exit. “Um. I’ll see you around, I guess.”
“Don’t sound so excited.” you said sardonically, and he rolled his eyes as he got up, giving you a dramatic bow as he walked away and towards another table. You watched him leave, eyes following his graceful figure and the way he smiled.
“You want to fuck him so bad.”
“Ew, Chae!” you yelped at the sudden interruption, waving off the smug girl leaning on your shoulder. “No way. Me and him? No, never. Don’t be silly.”
“Whatever you say.” she shrugged, taking his seat as she sipped on her third glass of red wine. “But the eyes don’t lie.” You glared up at her.
“I seriously hate you.”
☆☆☆
Three clinks of a wine glass, and your attention was at the front of the room. Sunghoon seemed to be giving a speech, and you brought your eyes to the stage. When you realized he was already looking at you, an unfamiliar feeling flooded your stomach. It felt something like dread.
“Welcome, everybody.” Sunghoon said, smiling warmly into the crowd, met with applause and good natured whoops. His father, however, was looking at him like he had just killed his cat, leading you to believe he wasn’t intended to make this speech.
And you were right. Sunghoon’s heart was pounding in his chest as he stared into the hordes, some faces familiar, some not.
“I’d like to thank you all for being here today.” Sunghoon said. “And I’d like to make a toast to the company and all of its potential. All it has accomplished, and all it will continue to accomplish.” The clinking of glasses resounded through the room as your frown deepened, your arms crossing over your chest. “And I would like to say, as the heir to the Park legacy, that I will try my hardest to steer this company towards kindness.” he said, with a fleeting glance towards you. “And so, cheers to the Park company. And cheers to ushering in a new era of ethical business.” The crowd, while mildly confused, burst into applause, their glasses rattling, champagne and wine alike spilling over the rims as people took celebratory gulps.
You shook your head, picking up the hem of your dress as you stood, walking to the exit with a smile on your face.
You sat on the steps outside the building, your knees pressed to your chest as you took a long drag of your cigarette. You told yourself you would quit, but something was itching at you that you couldn’t quite scratch, and nicotine seemed to do the trick momentarily. You were yearning for some peace.
“Flighty, aren’t you?” An amused voice said, the sound of light footsteps preceding it. You turned around, exhaling when you saw Sunghoon’s face towering over you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
“Nice speech.” you said, ignoring his comment.
“You mean that?”
“I do, actually.” Sunghoon chuckled, seating himself beside you with a grunt. “I didn’t say you could sit with me.”
“I don’t need your permission.” Sunghoon scoffed, folding his knees. You glared at him, but didn’t protest, taking another drag. “Put that out. I hate smoke.”
“I don’t need your permission.” you mocked him.
“Touche.” he said, resting his chin on his knees. “I suppose the both of us are equally headstrong.”
“Trust me, I’m more stubborn.” you laughed, ashing your cigarette and watching the sparks hit the floor. After a moment, you stubbed it out against the bottom of your shoe, rubbing the dark ash off with your thumb. Sunghoon noticed, but said nothing.
“I meant what I said in my speech, y’know. It wasn’t just to impress you.” you snorted at that. “I mean it! I do want to reform the company.”
“That’s admirable.” you nodded. “I’m glad to see my words had an effect.”
“Me too. See? I’ve only spent a couple days with you and I’m already becoming a better person.” Both of you went silent at his words, his eyes widening as he realized what he said. But he didn’t take it back, the two of you staring, searching through each other's eyes. You hesitated to say something, but there was no hesitation when he reached out for you, your lips colliding as he kissed you.
His hand ghosted across the back of your neck, resting at your nape, making the hairs rise. Your skin felt like it was on fire as he tilted his head, pulling you closer, one of his hands resting on your waist, his thumb rubbing over the fabric of your dress. After a breathless moment, you pulled away. Both of you stared at each other in silence, panting to regain your breath, hungry for more, but hesitating.
After a second, Sunghoon’s swollen lips split into a grin, and he began to laugh, leaning back on his hands as he snickered. You heaved out a sigh, but you couldn’t hold back the smile on your face.
“You are so fucking annoying.”
☆☆☆
You now had Park Sunghoon’s number. It had been three days since you kissed, and you hadn’t yet texted him. You wondered if he assumed you would.
But you didn’t have time to worry about that now. You had work to do.
“Jay, I need you to run a diagnostic on the hotel website and check for errors. And Chaewon, please call Mr. Choi, for the millionth time, and request some new cleaners. We need three dozen rooms cleaned before 10:0o pm.” you said, flipping through a checklist. You had been buzzing around your office drinking coffee and handling busy work since 4 am. It was sufficient to say that you were in business mode. “And both of you, be quick about it. I have a million more tasks to take care of.”
“Okay, Mom.” Jay rolled his eyes, getting out of his seat on the couch and you sent him a quick glare. “Since when have you taken anything seriously?”
“If you haven’t noticed, I have a business to run these days.” you said facetiously, and Jay placed an apologetic kiss on your cheek before running out of the door. “You too, Chae.” She shut her laptop, sending you a quick salute.
The minute the room was empty, you dropped onto your chair, letting your head loll backwards, closing your eyes. The minute you opened them, you were confronted with the enormous, cheesy grin of Park Sunghoon facing you from the billboard across the street. You huffed, getting to your feet and tugging down the blinds with a frown.
You could not get him out of your head.
As you sat in silence, stewing with rage at the fact that Sunghoon, of all people, was occupying your headspace, your landline rang, the little light flashing green as the phone vibrated. You picked it up with a sigh.
“Y/n speaking.”
“Why haven’t you called?” You froze, slamming the phone down and hanging up as quickly as your hands would move. That infuriating, smug voice, you’d recognize it anywhere. You stared at the phone blankly until it began to ring again, and after a moment of reluctance, you picked it up again. “What exactly is your problem?”
“How’d you get my number?” you said exhaustedly, spinning in your chair and getting tangled in the phone cord.
“I called your secretary.” you internally cursed Chaewon, letting out a deep breath through your nose. “I gave you my number so you’d text, you know.”
“I’m busy.”
“I’m busy too. I still found the time to call.”
“I wish you wouldn’t have.” you quipped. “What, you wanna see me?” You could hear him chuckle from the other end.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. Vice prez told me you’ve been waiting on upper management’s approval for your budget. I’m here to take care of it.”
“Oh.” you replied embarrassedly, crossing your arms.
“Aw, don’t sound so disappointed, sweetheart.” he tutted. “We’re sending a representative over tonight to discuss business.”
“I’m assuming that’s you.” you said, and he hummed in response. “I look forward to it. And by the way, we aren’t close enough for pet names.” You hung up without allowing him time for a reply, taking a moment to collect yourself before you straightened your jacket and got back to work, a deep frown on your face.
Sunghoon, on the other end, was grinning like a fool.
☆☆☆
Three knocks resounded from your door, and you looked up from your laptop for the first time in hours, cracking your neck in the process. Rubbing the back of your neck, you called out into the empty room.
“Come in!” you said, and Chaewon’s head peeked through the door, her black bob swishing as she walked inside, her pink heels clicking against the floor.
“Park Sunghoon is here to see you.” she said, and you sighed, looking down once again. “He’s in the lobby. Says he’s getting impatient.”
“Let him in.” you waved her off, and she nodded. “Oh, and Chae? Give out my number one more time, and you’re so fired.” She grinned coyly, blowing you a kiss as she slipped through the door. You rolled your eyes. You were beginning to wonder if you had a single competent employee in your entire company.
It didn’t take long for Sunghoon to find your office. It felt like the air chilled when he walked through the door.
“Hey,” he said warmly in greeting, his hands tucked into his pockets. He looked incredibly handsome in his tailored gray suit. You slapped yourself on the forehead internally, shifting in your chair uncomfortably. You were acting like an idiot.
“Hi.” you said tightly, straightening a pile of papers. He dropped onto the couch, kicking his feet up on the table. “Make yourself at home.” you said sarcastically.
He grinned, “Let’s talk business, sweetheart.”
“Remember what I said about the pet names?” you reminded him, getting up from your desk and slipping into the chair across from him.
“Aw, c’mon. Loosen up,” he urged you, leaning forward in his seat. “Now, whaddya got for me?” You looked down at the stack of papers in your hand.
“Well, due to necessary improvements, budget has increased this year. We’re in the process of funding a new computer system, and we’ll definitely need more support if we want to expand the branch in Seongbuk-gu. So, I’d say we’re looking at a couple hundred thousand, minimum.” you explained, sorting through your files.
“Boring.” Sunghoon mimed a yawn, standing up and walking to the makeshift bar on your side panel, unscrewing a bottle of whiskey.
“Can you please take this seriously?” you asked exasperatedly.
“I am,” he said defensively, pouring a sizable glass of whiskey. “I’m more of a vodka guy myself. I’ll have someone go on a grocery run next week and get you stocked.”
“Sunghoon.” you deadpanned, and he rolled his eyes.
“Aw, c’mon y/n. Aren’t I supposed to be the uptight one, and you the free willed?”
“You seem free willed enough for the two of us.” you grumbled.
“Alright,” he said, moving to sit back down on the couch. “I have a confession to make.” You stared at him expectantly. “Management approved the budget. I sent off the form yesterday and it was done by 9:00 am this morning.” You raised a brow.
“So…”
“So I came here just to see you, yes.” You smirked, and he groaned in annoyance before you even had a chance to respond.
“I fucking knew it!” you laughed, and he took a sip of his drink. “Park Sunghoon, you are a player.”
“Whatever.” he sassed, standing back up to refill his glass. “Promise to call me next time, and I won’t have to make any surprise visits.”
“I can’t make any promises.” you grinned. “But you can make me a drink.” He looked at you for a moment before chuckling, pouring a second glass of whiskey with a splash of sweet vermouth and bitters for a makeshift Manhattan.
“There’s no cherry, but I did my best.” he said, handing it to you.
“You remembered.” you said warmly, and he nodded. You took a sip. It was a bit too sweet for your taste, but you didn’t mind. You were smiling so brightly, he was itching with the urge to kiss your cheek, so he did. Your smile fell as you rubbed your cheek, Sunghoon avoiding eye contact with you as he sat back down.
You sat across from each other in momentary silence. The window was open, and the night air brushed against your cheeks. Sunghoon’s nose was pink from the cold.
“Do you like me, Sunghoon?” you asked, breaking the silence. He stared.
“Whoah,” he chuckled nervously, slender fingers toying with the rim of his cup. “You get straight to the point, huh?” You didn’t respond. “Let’s not talk about it.” You thought for a minute, before nodding, folding your knees and resting your chin on them.
“I’m okay with that.”
☆☆☆
Surprisingly enough, your friendship with Park Sunghoon was persistent if nothing else. In front of the press you still acted like enemies—you both agreed it was better for your respective companies if nobody knew you had become unlikely companions. But behind closed doors, you would smile when you saw him entering a room, and he would call you on a late night after a hard day of work.
Tonight was one of those nights.
You tore your eyes away from your phone lighting up the black night, ringing on the table. You and Jay were sitting on the fire escape of your apartment complex, passing a lit cigarette back and forth and watching the smoke disappear into the evening sky. You could see all of Seoul from the penthouse.
“You gonna answer that?” Jay asked smugly, taking a long drag as he watched you stare at your phone in conflict. You turned it over.
“Nope.” you said, reaching for the cigarette and taking a drag until you felt lightheaded. “I don’t have time for him tonight.”
“You seem to be spending a lot of time together lately.” Jay replied, and you glared at him. “Hey, I’m not poking fun. I’m genuinely curious.” You turned away, staring at the glimmering skyline. “You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?”
“No.” you brought the cig to your lips again. “No, I haven’t.”
“Then what is it?” “...I don’t know.” you admitted. Watching the cigarette burn into ashes in your unmoving hand, Jay began to light his own. “I used to hate him so much, Jay. And now, he’s something completely different than what I thought. He’s a good person.” you turned to look at the boy sitting beside you.
“I know,” he affirmed. “I know.”
“So,” you said, remembering your cigarette and ashing it on the railing, watching the gray ash fall to the ground several stories below. “What now?” Jay took a drag.
“I think that’s for you to decide, y/n. I think you’ve earned the right to let go.” His words touched you. Had you finally worked hard enough to look past those who had wronged you? You had achieved everything you dreamed of, and more.
Were you finally more than your own vengeance?
You didn’t respond, only grabbing your phone and wrapping your jacket a little tighter around your body to protect yourself from the cold breeze.
“I think I’m gonna call him.” you announced, and Jay chuckled.
“I had a feeling,” he said, stretching. “I’m gonna head home. See you tomorrow?”
“See you tomorrow.” you said, watching as Jay walked out the door, giving you a little salute before shutting it behind him. You sighed, staring at your phone.
3 Missed Calls From Park Sunghoon.
You hesitated for a moment before pressing the call button, letting your phone rest on your lap as it rang. He picked up on the second ring.
“Hey.” his muffled voice said through the phone.
“Hey.” you responded.
“I’m outside.” Your eyes widened, and you immediately ran to the edge of the fire escape, peering down to the entrance of your apartment building. Surely enough, there he was, his back resting against the wall, polished shoes tapping against the concrete.
“How long have you been waiting for?” you called, and he looked up, his face barely a speck from so high up.
“Not long.” he responded.
“How’d you know I’d answer?” you could barely make out his grin in the dark.
“You always do.” you rolled your eyes, retreating inside and tugging on a pair of flats. You took the elevator down, and when you entered the lobby, Sunghoon’s solemn face was the first thing you saw. His nose and cheeks were tinted red from the cold, and his hair was messy from the wind. You smiled, tucking your hands into your pockets.
“You wanna come upstairs?” you asked. “I’ll make tea.”
“Tea sounds nice.” he said quietly, smiling as he followed you to the elevator.
This was the first time Sunghoon had seen your apartment, and he was fascinated to say the least. As you fussed over the boiling water and choosing the right tea, he toyed with the perfumes on your coffee table, running his hands along your brown leather couch and smelling the fresh flowers you kept in glass vases. He was enchanted by this little space you had created for yourself. His apartment was just a bachelor pad, filled with expensive furniture and lacking life.
“I like your apartment.” he said, staring at a print of Marilyn Monroe that you kept on your wall. “It’s stylish.”
“Thanks. You want jasmine or oolong?”
“Jasmine, please. And bring a shot of vodka with it.” You snorted, pulling out two tea bags and pouring two shots, bringing them to the coffee table.
“So, what brings you to my side of the city?” you asked.
“I had a hard day.” Sunghoon knocked back the shot of vodka, wiping his lips. “Thanks. I needed that.”
“You’re welcome.” you said, throwing back your shot and setting the small glass cup on the table. You didn’t want to think of the implications of Sunghoon coming over in the middle of the night without any warning. It made your head hurt.
“I’m finding that, as of late,” Sunghoon began. “That you have a somewhat calming presence in my life.” You froze. “Lately I’ve been under a lot of stress, with remodeling the company and everything. My father’s been giving me hell about my new policies. I don’t think he likes my idea of ‘ethical new business’.” He let out a large exhale. “At the end of the day, you’re really the only one who understands me.” He smiled bittersweetly. “And, well, I’m grateful for your company lately. Spending time with you has been the only thing keeping me sane. It’s hard to imagine that we ever hated each other.”
You couldn’t think of a single thing to say. You felt like your heart was rising in your throat, and you cleared it, attempting to collect yourself. Sunghoon chuckled, looking at the floor with red cheeks.
“Is it cool that I said all that?” he said after a moment of silence. “Cause I know that it’s delicate.”
“Y’know, I used to hate you more than anyone in the world.” you laughed gently. “But I agree with you. These days, you’re the only thing keeping me sane.” Sunghoon gazed at you, but you were looking into your cup of tea. “And yeah, it’s delicate. But I don’t really care what anyone thinks but you.” You met his eyes. Those damn dark eyes. Swimming with emotion. And they were trained quite blatantly on your lips.
Before you could register it, he was reaching for your face, his rough palm caressing the soft skin of your cheek, pulling you into his embrace as he kissed you gently, his other hand on your waist.
You had kissed before, but nothing had felt as intimate as the moment you were sharing now. Those past kisses had been a fleeting moment, an impulse decision, but now Sunghoon was kissing you like you were the only thing in the universe, like you were all that mattered. His grip on your waist was bruising, as though he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. You felt drunk on love and vodka, shifting yourself onto his lap as you tangled your hands in his hair. You were both breathless, hearts racing as you held each other tightly, losing yourselves in the taste of each other’s lips.
Sunghoon pulled away, his lips splitting into a smug smile as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, your lips red and swollen as you attempted to catch your breath.
“Remember when you asked if I liked you?” he asked, hands trailing over your bare thighs, eyes trained on the way your eyes twinkled under the dim lighting and the thin tank top you were wearing underneath your jacket. “Well, I think I have my answer now.” you licked your lips, before grinning.
“You’re an asshole, Sunghoon.”
“Then I’m really lucky you like me.”
☆☆☆
You woke up to two things; Sunghoon’s face, and the sound of yelling.
His eyes were closed, his full lips slightly parted as he let out gentle snores, his dark hair sticking up. As much as you wanted to admire the way the morning light hit his skin, you stood up and walked to your balcony, peeking outside.
You yelped, slamming your glass doors shut as you ran inside, pulling on a pair of sweats, simultaneously shaking Sunghoon awake.
“Sunghoon, get up. The paparazzi are here.” you said frantically, attempting to retrieve a shirt from your closet when a pair of strong arms pulled you back into bed.
“Five more minutes.” he groaned from under the covers, and you fought back a smile, attempting to pry his grip off of you. His hands made their way to the straps of your bra, pulling and letting it snap back onto your skin. “Lace, huh? I didn’t notice.”
“I’m not kidding, get up.” you said, pushing him off of you and running to your closet to grab the top half of your tracksuit, pulling it over your head.
“What’s the rush?” he said, finally sitting up, ears perking when he heard the loud voices coming from outside. Peering out the window, his eyes widening.
“Oh shit,” he cursed, getting to his feet and hurriedly pulling on his shirt. “How’d they find us?” You shook your head, biting your lip as you thought about what to do.
“Not sure, but we should try to preserve our image.” you grabbed a snapback from your nightstand, putting it on his head to cover his face. “You go out the back, I’ll curse them out and keep ‘em distracted.”
“What happened to preserving your image?” he snorted, buckling his belt.
“Well, my reputation’s never been worse.” you said, tapping him on the nose. “So you must like me for me.” He smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.
“Mm, I do.” he said, before tugging on his shoes. He blew you a kiss before running out your front door, shutting it behind him, making sure it didn’t slam. You watched him leave, your fingers tracing where he had kissed you, and you smiled for a moment before collecting yourself.
“Hey!” you yelled, stomping towards the paparazzi stationed outside the lobby of your apartment. They immediately whirled in your direction, cameras flashing as they all fought to get their questions out. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Ms. Y/l/n!” a reporter yelled. “Are you aware of the rising scandal between you and Park Sunghoon?” You scrunched up your nose.
“Park Sunghoon?” you repeated in disgust.
“Sunghoon was reported to have arrived at your home at midnight last night! Do you have anything to say to these accusations?”
“Do I have anything to say?” you scoffed. “You must be mistaken. Park Sunghoon is a pig, just like the rest of his family. I hope the media understands that I do not, and never will, have anything to do with a pompous asshole like him.” The paparazzi erupted into questions and flashing cameras, but you turned on your heel and sashayed back inside, waving them off as the sliding doors closed behind you, drowning out the noise.
On your face you wore a grimace.
☆☆☆
A newspaper slammed onto Sunghoon’s desk, his drowsy eyes snapping open at the sound. “‘Park Sunghoon is a pig, just like the rest of his family!’ States Queen Corporation’s CEO After Being Accused of an Illicit Affair with the Park Company’s Son”, stated the title. Sunghoon smiled momentarily, but his amused expression dropped when he saw the furious face of his father towering over him.
“Would you like to explain this?” he asked, his tone deceptively calm. Sunghoon was smart enough to know that meant he was enraged.
“Um, is there anything to explain?” Sunghoon said timidly. “She said it herself, we’re not involved.” Sunghoon’s father rubbed his temples.
“Well, obviously, Sunghoon. I’d hope you’re smart enough to not get involved with the one woman who could ruin our company.” Sunghoon winced internally. “We must do something about this issue. Y/n is the only threat to our company.”
“Surely she’ll leave us alone if we don’t encroach upon her business.” he attempted to reason, but his father looked at him as though he had gone insane.
“Absolutely not. We’ll have to speed up your engagement to Huh Yunjin.” Sunghoon leapt out of his seat.
“Father, you can’t be serious!” he said in disbelief.
“I won’t hear any complaints. The Huhs own the largest company in Korea, second to ourselves, and we can’t afford to make an enemy out of them. Merging our companies will give us total dominion over the business world.” his father said with finality. “Not to mention their only heir is a woman. We’ll control their company through you.” Sunghoon bit his lip.
“But I don’t want to marry her.” His father shook his head.
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”
☆☆☆
A newspaper slammed onto your desk.
“Park Sunghoon, a pig? A likely story.” Jay snorted, slipping into the seat across from you. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, picking up the newspaper. “Late night, huh? So it must be true.”
“Shut up.” you said, but you couldn’t hold back the smile on your face. “Guess I went a little overboard, but it makes for a good story.” Jay raised his brows at you, taking a sip of his coffee. “Will you stop looking at me like that?”
“I think you’ve got a little crush.” He said in a sing-song voice. You snorted.
“I’m a grown woman, Jay. Us hooking up doesn’t mean I have feelings for him.” Jay shrugged.
“Say whatever you want, but it’s obvious that you like Park Sunghoon. There’s no denying it.” You were about to respond when your phone rang, and you shooed Jay out of your office as he mimed kissing childishly.
“Hello?” you asked, and a familiar voice responded.
“A pig, huh? A pompous asshole?” Sunghoon spoke smugly.
“I did what I had to do.” you shrugged, spinning in your office chair.
“Mm, sure.” he said, holding his phone to his ear with his shoulder as he jotted down notes. “Well, Ms. Y/l/n, I’m calling to let you know that the Parks are throwing a very exclusive fundraising gala tomorrow, and there’s an empty seat for a certain CEO if she’s so inclined.” you snorted.
“Oh, really? And would your family like to see me there?” “A little trouble would do them some good. Plus, I want to see you.” You blushed on the other side of the phone, covering your mouth with your hand. “And I’ve booked a private reservation for two at the shittiest bar on the East side,” he joked. “So?”
You thought for a moment. After your recent statement in the news, walking into a Park gala would be like walking into a den of tigers. But since when had you been afraid of stirring the corporate pot?
“I’ll be there.” you promised, and Sunghoon grinned, tucking a pen between his lips. “I should look for a dress.”
“I’ll have it taken care of.” He twirled his pen. “Just wait for my call.”
“See you tomorrow then.” you grinned.
“See you tomorrow, m’lady.”
☆☆☆
It was three hours and counting until the Parks’ big gala. You stared at the wall ahead of you while Chaewon tried on countless lavish dresses and Jay sorted through piles of patterned ties. Sunghoon had assured you that you could bring your closest friends, but you weren’t certain that his family would appreciate your troupe of misanthropes intruding upon their event.
“Cheetah print, or zebra print?” Chaewon asked you, holding two dresses against her body. You shook your head, biting the nail of your thumb.
“Neither. Pick something nice, Chae.”
“This is nice.” she protested, but put the dresses down and continued to look around. Jay noticed the way you stared vacantly ahead, stressfully chewing your nails, and he set down his ties, scooching in closer.
“Are you feeling okay?” he asked cautiously. “Nervous?”
“I couldn’t care less what those people think about me.” you said, and Jay chuckled at your classic behavior.
“Okay, so. What’s wrong?” His eyes held concern as he rubbed his thumb along your arm, and you sighed heavily.
“I do care what he thinks. And that’s the problem.” Jay let out a quiet sound of understanding. “I don’t understand. Why do I even care about him? The only thing on my mind for the past six years has been destroying that family.”
“Y/n,” he began. “You don’t have to punish yourself for forgiving someone.” You stopped biting your nails. “Especially someone with no fault in the situation.”
“But he’s one of them.” you mumbled.
“Does he seem like a good person?” Jay asked. Your eyes made contact for a moment, before you nodded and quickly looked away. “Then that’s all that matters.” You considered his words for a moment, before sighing, folding your hands.
“You’re right, you’re right. Thanks Jay.”
“I’m always gonna be here for you. Try not to worry.” He patted you lightly on the back as he stood, and you gave him a tight smile. Your eyes were drawn to your bed, snug in the corner of your apartment, a large bag lying on top. Fabric peeked out from beneath the top, a shining sapphire blue. You held your head in your hands.
Trying not to worry was proving to be impossible.
On the other side of the city, Sunghoon was tightening his tie.
“You finally learned how to tie a tie.” Jake snorted, but Sunghoon didn’t laugh. He was staring vacantly out the window and into the horizon, zoned out on the skyline. “Hello? Earth to Sunghoon?”
“What?” Sunghoon snapped out of his trance, whipping around.
“Something on your mind?” Jake tucked his hands into the pockets of his ironed blazer. They were both dressed in their nicest suits in preparation for the night’s events. Sunghoon shook his head.
“I can’t stop thinking about her.” Sunghoon admitted, and Jake grew serious. “This whole time, I feel like I’ve been looking for something deeper than just being the heir to this bullshit company. When I’m with her…I feel like I found something real.” “Sunghoon,” Jake said tenderly. “As of a couple days ago, you’re engaged.” Sunghoon sighed. “You can’t do that to y/n.”
“I don’t want to get married.” Sunghoon said, his voice breaking, which he quickly covered up with a cough. “I don’t want to marry Yunjin, and she definitely doesn’t want to marry me.”
“As sad as it is, you don’t have a choice.” Jake said sympathetically. “I know you’re upset. But just try to keep it together for tonight.”
“Yeah, got it.” Sunghoon scoffed, fidgeting, adjusting his cufflinks. “After 21 years, I’ve become accustomed to putting away my emotions for my father’s benefit.” Jake watched sadly as his best friend adjusted his jacket, shaking his head before exiting his room and striding downstairs to where the gala was taking place.
☆☆☆
Your eyes scanned the luxurious room, full of familiar but unwelcoming faces. Chandeliers were draped from ceilings twenty feet high, crystals glimmering in the golden glow, sending fractals of light spiraling around the room. You were receiving dirty looks from every corner of the ballroom, judgemental whispers echoing. You tried your best to tune it out. Jay stood behind you, glaring back tenfold at every disapproving partygoer, Chaewon oblivious to it all as she enjoyed the decadence.
You needed to find Sunghoon or you would lose your mind.
His face shone from the other side of the room, and when your eyes connected it was like the rest of the world fell away. His warm, brown eyes captivated you as he quickly left whatever conversation he was a part of, weaving through the crowd to get to you. He was breathless by the time he made it through the sea of people.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.” you responded unsteadily, looking over your shoulder to see his father watching you with a fierce glare. “Sunghoon, I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
“Since when have you cared what everyone else thinks?” he said with a bittersweet grin, and you chuckled, some of the tension relieved. “C’mon, I’ll show you the dance floor.” He tugged on your hand, whisking you away. You attempted to hide your face as you left with him.
Jake watched you leave, sipping gin from a crystal glass. Jay approached his side, picking up a bottle and emptying its contents into the largest glass he could find.
“They’re so fucked.” Jake said without thinking.
“I don’t know,” Jay said, taking a swig. “They seem like they really love each other. Who says love doesn’t conquer all?” “The business world.” Jake chuckled, looking at his reflection in the bottom of his glass. “I just hope he lets her down easy.”
“What do you mean?” When Jake looked up, Jay was staring at him inquisitively, brows furrowed. Jake’s face dropped, his heart in his throat.
“He hasn’t told her yet?” Jake asked hesitantly. Jay’s grip on his drink tightened. The two men stared at each other in silence, the tension palpable.
“...Told her what?”
☆☆☆
Sunghoon closed the towering, intricate wooden doors behind you as you entered the ballroom. Ceilings made of mirrors caused the light to bounce around the room like stars, and you watched, breathless. The smooth floor was slick under your stiletto heels.
“It’s beautiful.” you said, and Sunghoon watched you with a smile.
“A dance, m’lady?” he asked, offering his gloved hand to you. You took it with a grin, and he pulled you into his arms.
The two of you swayed, rocking back and forth in each other’s arms as he attempted to guide you in a waltz. You were uncoordinated, and you both giggled as you tripped over your feet. His thumb rubbed across your hand as he counted out the steps for you. There was no music playing, but you could both feel the rhythm in your head, like a grand orchestra was conducting a song just for you.
When you were alone, your head was suddenly clear. The stress from earlier melted away as he gazed into your eyes, and you rested your head on his shoulder, the two of you twirling as he hummed a song under his breath.
“You’re improving,” he joked. He was right, you were no longer tripping and stumbling. You had gained a sense of the rhythm, following his lead gracefully. He extended his hand, prompting you to spin, and you did.
“I have a good teacher.” you laughed, watching your gown twirl. The dress that Sunghoon had bought you was beautiful, trailing against the ground, the crystal detailing lighting up underneath the dappled golden light. Only then did you notice the sapphire shade of his tie, and how it perfectly matched your dress. “Let’s hope the press doesn’t get wind of our fashion faux pas.” you joked, gesturing to your matching attire.
“To be honest, I don’t really care.” he said, and his honesty made you gulp.
This was all too real for you. Your feelings for him were ripping you from the inside out, and you felt too nervous to speak. The feeling in your stomach was more akin to wasps than butterflies.
“Y/n.” he said seriously. “You know how I feel about you, don’t you?” He was overcome with guilt. He really didn’t want to do this to you, not now, not when he knew he’d have to break the news soon. It was too soon. His time with you was too short lived, he couldn’t let it go. Not when you were the only person who made him feel complete, the only person who made life feel like it was worth continuing.
“No, I don’t.” you grinned, baiting him to say the words himself, and he chuckled. “Why don’t you explain it to me?”
“Maybe it’s easier without words.” he said, unclasping his hand from yours so he could trace his fingers along your cheek.
He dipped his head to kiss you, and your hands were tangled in his hair as he held you tightly. There was something desperate about the way he kissed you, holding you like you might slip through his fingers if he loosened his grip. The two of you kissed fervently, full of convolution and mixed emotions. He pulled away from you for a moment, but only for long enough to whisper,
“I love you.” You pulled away from him, his gaze intense. You always had a weakness for his eyes. It felt like they held galaxies. The weight of his words sunk upon you, and you opened your mouth to speak.
“I love you too.” you whispered.
☆☆☆
You and Sunghoon had parted ways after your illicit meeting, him fleeing to the front of the room to discuss with his father, you hesitantly retreating to your table. Chaewon was sipping vodka; Jay was nowhere to be seen.
“Everything okay?” she asked immediately, setting down her cup.
“I’m okay.” you assured her, your lips splitting into a bright smile despite your distressed exterior, and she let out a breath of relief, wrapping an arm around the back of your chair when you sat. “I can’t wait to get out of here.”
“Same.” she agreed, taking another swig of her drink. “Though I bet your reason is different than mine.” She sent you a wink, to which you shook your head amusedly.
Your eyes were drawn to Sunghoon, standing onstage with his father. He seemed nervous, and you wanted nothing more than to be standing beside him, but you knew you couldn’t. Not in public, and you were wondering if you two would go public one day.
You would do it the moment he asked, no hesitation. And that scared you.
You picked up a glass sitting on the table that you assumed was Jay’s, taking a large swig. It burned your throat, and you put it down with a wince. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a tall and elegant woman standing on stage, honey colored hair curling gracefully on her shoulders. Her floor length golden gown sparkled in the light.
“Welcome, valued guests.” a loud voice and feedback from the microphone snapped you back into reality, and your attention was drawn to the stage, where Sunghoon’s father was speaking with a cheesy, large grin. “Thank you all for attending our fundraising gala, graciously hosted by the Parks. We appreciate all of your generous donations.” he cleared his throat. “And on behalf of my lovely son, we have some news.” You began listening, setting down your cup.
“We are delighted to announce our own Sunghoon’s engagement.”
Your face paled. You felt like the world was crashing down around you, everything muffled. You could vaguely sense that Chaewon was talking to you, but you couldn’t process it. You felt like you were going to throw up.
“Sunghoon and Huh Yunjin of the Huh Company are set to wed in three months, and our companies will officially be merging.” Flashing cameras went off like grenades, the sound filling the room as the woman smiled for the camera, holding onto the arm of the man who told you he loved you. Despite the camera demanding his attention, his eyes were on you. And those beautiful eyes that you loved, they were devoid of feeling.
He stared at you, pale as a ghost, lips parted in silent surprise. The cameras snapped photos of him as he barely breathed, lost in the injured gaze of the woman who loved him. And you stood, striding towards the exit before you could even register what you were doing, ignoring the curious stares you were receiving. All you could see was the exit, the door that would lead you out of here.
The sound of cameras flashing and the hum of gossip silenced as you walked into the night, taking a deep and ragged breath. Tears spilled from your eyes before you could help it, and you swiped your palms over your face, smudging your makeup, sobbing unsteadily.
As Sunghoon watched you stand, he pulled himself away from the tight grip of Yunjin on his arm, eyes trained on your disappearing figure as panic rushed through his head. His father turned back towards him.
“What are you doing?” he asked quietly, urgently, as Sunghoon pushed through the crowds of paparazzi, jumping off the stage and running towards the exit. He burst through the doors, chasing you until he found your weeping figure running away.
“Y/n!” He chased after you. You knew you couldn’t outrun him, so you didn’t try. You just shook your head, turning away from him.
“Fuck off.” you replied harshly, and he grabbed your wrist.
“Please, I’m sorry, let me explain.” he begged.
“Explain?” you snapped. “Sunghoon, you’re engaged. There’s nothing to explain.”
“I don’t want to marry her.” he said desperately. “I never have, and I never will.”
“You told me you loved me,” you sobbed, wiping your eyes with your free hand, and Sunghoon’s eyes burned with tears and the cold wind.
“I do,” he said gently. “I love you more than anything.”
“Then why?” you said. “Why are you getting married?” “...I don’t have a choice. It’s for the company.” he said reluctantly, and you shook your eyes, pulling your wrist out of his grip and wiping your eyes for the last time.
“I can’t believe I thought you were different.” you laughed incredulously. “I thought you were different, but it turns out you’re exactly like your family.”
“Y/n, don’t say that.” he pleaded. “I’m not like them.”
“Yet you do what they say, slaving away for a company that does nothing but hurt people?” He went silent. “I should’ve known from the start that you would hurt me. God, I can’t believe I thought you really cared about me.” “I do.” he insisted, reaching for your hands, but you pulled away. “I care about you, I care about us-”
“There is no ‘us’, Sunghoon!” you yelled. “There never has been! Because you always knew that at the end, you’d leave me the minute someone told you to.”
“That’s not true, y/n.” he shouted. “Everything we went through, that meant something to me. I meant everything I said, I’d do anything for you! I’d leave the company if you asked me to!” You scoffed.
“You wouldn’t do that for anyone, Sunghoon. You’re too much of a coward.” He didn’t respond, his hands hanging weakly at his sides. He felt numb.
A black car roared to life, approaching from the parking lot. The windows rolled down, and you were comforted to see Jay’s stony face in the driver's seat, Chaewon watching you from the back seat with concern. He nodded to the passenger side.
“Get in.” he said, requiring no explanation. He already knew.
You ran for the car, and Sunghoon came after you. You had one hand on the handle when he caught your wrist in his fingers.
“Please,” he begged, his voice a whisper in the night as his eyes pleaded with you. “Please, don’t leave.” You almost yielded, but instead you removed your hand from his, opening the door and sliding into your seat.
“Go.” you said quietly to Jay, and he accelerated, speeding out of the lot. His hand rested on top of yours, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. You silenced your tears, chin resting on your palm and staring out the window into the city to ignore how much your heart was aching.
☆☆☆
It had been four days since Park Sunghoon told you he was getting married to another woman. It had been three days since you called out of work sick, and two days since you blocked his number after countless missed calls. It had been only one day since you stopped crying yourself to sleep.
You weren’t used to being vulnerable. Since your father ruined both his career and your own, you were used to building up walls around yourself. You were filled with bitter irony that the person who tore those walls down was part of the family that hurt you so badly in the first place.
You felt like an absolute idiot, to say the least.
You flipped through a magazine, your hair up as you lounged in a salon chair. You had just gotten your nails done, and you tried not to smudge the gel as you flipped through pages of jewelry ads and gossip articles. When you stumbled across a promotion for cologne, Sunghoon’s handsome, smiling face decorating the page, you shut it with a sigh.
“Do you have any other magazines?” you asked the woman who came to do your hair, sharp nails gripping at the edges.
You strode down the bustling streets of Seoul, your fur coat clenched tightly around your body, a designer purse held in your free hand. You got plenty of stares as you walked down the street, some admiring, some judgemental. But you had learned not to care. You sighed, your warm breath fogging up the cold daylight, before dissipating.
The sound of screeching static froze you in place, and you turned to look at the towering screens lined up in the window of a store, all glitching. You stopped for a moment, waiting until they regained their sense, switching to a news channel.
An anchorwoman with a bad blowout and a gaudy diamond necklace was pointing very seriously at an image behind her, her other hand wrapped around a stack of papers as she read off a script.
“The business world- is sh-shocked,” she began, her voice skipping as the tvs froze and unfroze in sync. “At the alleged emancipation of Park Sunghoon from his family’s very successful enterprise. Mr. Park made a public statement this morning, claiming that he ‘would not continue to entertain unethical practices, and could not condon the idea of marrying purely for business’. Rumors are, according to inside sources from corporate high society, that he left his company for love.”
You stared quietly at the tv. A million thoughts were rushing through your head, but the majority of them were this;
You needed to find Sunghoon.
☆☆☆
The door to his apartment creaked open, Sunghoon peeking out from behind. His hair was matted to his forehead, sticking up in places, and his typical nice clothing was replaced by a white t-shirt and a pair of baggy sweats. He looked like hell, but it didn’t matter; he looked the most beautiful you’d ever seen him.
“You’re not a coward.” Was the first thing you said when he opened the door.
“I am,” he replied.
“You’re not, and I didn’t mean that. I was scared.”
“You don’t need to explain yourself to me.” he said, shaking his head. “It was all my fault. I fucked up, and I lose the only person I care about in this world because of it.” You stood up a little straighter, clenching your fists.
“At the end of the day, you’re really the only one who understands me.” you said firmly, and he smiled, recognizing his own words. “Sunghoon, I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone. And that’s why I was so afraid of you hurting me.”
“I wish I could take it all back.” Sunghoon said, his hand tracing your cheek, too afraid to make contact. “I wasted so much of my life being complacent. You were the one that taught me to be brave.” You nodded, eyes watery. “I’m sorry that I made you mad.”
“I’m not mad.” you said very unconvincingly, and both of you laughed.
You wiped your eyes furiously, hands trembling.
“I really do love you, Sunghoon.” you said shakily, and he pulled you into his arms. You melted into his warm embrace, his arms circling your waist, holding you tight. Your touch felt so familiar, and for the first time since you left him, he felt whole again, basking in the glory of your presence. He couldn’t help but kiss you, his finger under your chin as he lifted your face to his, pressing his lips against yours eagerly.
You had forgotten all the things you adored about kissing Sunghoon. The way his hands always held you so tightly, how he always tasted like honey chapstick, and the way he smiled against your lips when you lost your hands in his hair. You were both sick with love, and you were only just beginning to realize that you didn’t need a cure.
“I love you.” he mumbled between kisses, unable to pull away. “I loved you from the start, even when everyone told me not to. Nothing could, and nothing can, stop the way I feel about you.”
“I love you, Sunghoon,” you said, your tears wetting both your face and his. “And I hate you for even considering otherwise.” he chuckled, tapping your nose with his index finger.
“Well, my reputation’s never been worse,” you giggled at your own words being used against you, as he spun you around in his arms. “So you must like me for me.” You pressed a chaste kiss onto his lips with a glowing smile.
“Mm, you’re lucky that I do.”
☆☆☆
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dad’s best friend ambessa perhaps ..? :3 i love ur age gap fics ur so talented
⋆ come, and be my baby.
dad's best friend!ambessa x f!reader. men & minors dni. synopsis: you've always been a troubled, searching girl. ambessa, your father's long-time best friend, is your self-ordained solution. cw: age difference, older woman/younger woman, reader is implied to be between 22-24, emotional hurt/comfort, dom/sub, dom!ambessa, sub!reader, you're a little bit of a conniving bitch still love you tho, unhealthy relationship dynamics, codependency, slight emotional manipulation, listen you had to lock in, non-sexual intimacy, pleasure dom!ambessa, rough body play, manhandling, pet names, lesbian sex, dildos, vaginal sex, implied penetrative sex, implied strapping, oral fixation (ambessa), praise kink, mommy kink (specifically mama), implied exhibitionism, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, begging, spanking, impact play, face sitting, desk sex, you guys are definitely freaks but you love love love each other.
notes: hi, honey baby. this might be the most erotic questionable thing i've ever written. i hope you're happy with it. i went a little overboard and a bit non-conventional with the trope. i adore you & thank you for requesting, mami.
two things in this world reigned absolute: that you were glad your life would only be lived once, for you couldn't do this again, and that you were ambessa medarda's favorite girl.
the medardas were a family heavy with conflict, and perhaps that's why the matriarch and your father were best friends. they both were volatile people, sometimes prone to cruelty, with soft spots for certain people that were darkened with rot at the edges—perfumed with the sweet notes of their rage.
you were both of their favorites, and therefore, when your parents got divorced, you'd acted through the narrow scope of a confused and aching little girl and chose your father. once you'd shed that naive nature, you traced your way back to your mother in secrecy. you indulged in hushed phone calls in the middle of the night, timing your exits from your room with the fading beat of your father's boots as you left.
every month, she promised to get you.
the glass would fog with your breath as you waited in that tall, flaking phone booth, each passing car's headlights casting long shadows across your face. you memorized every crack in the booth's floor, every water stain on its ceiling, until they became as familiar as your own disappointment.
you wore the same outfit: thick, wool tights in burgundy tucked under the gleaming straps of your mary janes and layered underneath the dark denim of your favorite jeans. you cradled yourself into a black turtleneck, your hair tamed into two plaits that rested against your neck underneath the fabric. your eyes would be wide and searching, one hand gripping the curved handle of your brown leather suitcase and the other shaking around your well-loved copy of prozac nation.
she never came, but you showed up every time.
one night, a maserati did skate up to that ancient meeting spot, and you straightened from where you'd been dozing standing up. an overly tinted window rolled down, and you were met with the strong gaze of ambessa medarda, whom you hadn't seen since your early days. you didn't remember much, just yellow-tinged memories of being spoiled by her and being picked up and tossed into the bright sky above the farm she owned.
she must've moved back.
at first, she said nothing, just cataloged your most recent iteration of your "going with my mother" outfit and worked her jaw. finally, she leaned over and popped open the door before leaning back and letting you make the choice. embarrassed and teetering on the edge of emotional collapse, you slid in and shut down as she pulled away. this was how you met her again. seventeen and sobbing, emotionally wrought and disappointed from all angles. you probably came off unbearably young, dreamy, and unprepared for the challenges of real life.
it was only later that ambessa revealed that her first thought was that you needed a mother, that you needed her. that you were a girl abandoned and fighting your best against the more experienced hands of life.
⋅˚₊‧ 🕯୨୧ 🦪 ‧₊˚ ⋅
from then on you were her newest daughter, until you weren't. you noticed how 'miss' became 'dear' became 'darling,' each new endearment a step closer across the chasm between you. the way she said your name changed too, softening at the edges like butter left in sunlight.
by nineteen, you were practically sequestered to her house by your personal desires, curling at her hip as you grew into yourself. even now at an older age—still far younger than her—you came home from university only to lay all of your belongings in the warm wood of your makeshift bedroom (the guestroom, really). she taught you to appreciate aged whiskey, watching with amusement as you struggled not to grimace at the burn.
"small sips, little one," she'd say, her hand warm against your lower back.
you learned to love the taste, if only because it meant sharing these quiet moments in her study, the leather of her armchair creaking as she leaned forward to pour you another finger's worth.
you and mel even developed a soft friendship that lessened the tension between her and her mother, tall arguments tempered by the agreement that they would not aggravate your ptsd from the divorce days. sometimes you caught mel watching you both with worried eyes, but you'd grown tired of other people's concerns.
you'd rather have this - ambessa's fingers absently playing with your hair as she read reports, the way she automatically ordered your coffee exactly how you liked it, the subtle possessiveness in how she introduced you to her colleagues.
regardless, you knew that you and ambessa's relationship spun on an axis that could be labeled uncomfortably intimate, maybe even imbalanced. for all that everyone said, you couldn't find it in yourself to be concerned. you regarded her as all that you had, something that wouldn't leave.
she indulged you, kissing your forehead when she came in from a day at work or texting you about what replacements you had wanted for certain items on the grocery list. she rarely called you by your name, always coaxing you forward with firm, warm pet names. they were swollen with affection, a doting '(my) sweet girl', 'baby girl', or 'little one.'
your favorite one was invoked from a spontaneous trip to paris to meet an art collector she'd purchased from, only to return bearing handcrafted soaps and a penchant for calling you 'chouchou.' that stopped about two weeks later, but you wrote it down under your list of desired tattoos. what didn't stop was the way she'd buy authentic silken scarves to tie around your neck with careful precision, her fingers brushing against your pulse point in a way that sent you shivering.
the shift was gradual, like watching shadows lengthen at sunset. one evening, as thunder rolled outside and rain lashed against the windows of her study, she pulled you closer than usual. ambessa’s fingers traced patterns on your skin as she read, and when you tilted your head back to look at her, she met your gaze with an intensity that made your breath catch. the thunder cracked again and the peeking champagne of your bra strap slipped down your arm. still, neither of you moved.
the moment was eventually broken by mel’s surprise of coming home for the weekend. you pulled yourself upright, intending to put together a small plate for her. before you could leave, ambessa strolled up behind you and adjusted the strap, so that it was firm and held tight to the delicate bones of your shoulder.
for a moment, you thought you’d felt her lips right beside it.
⋅˚₊‧ 🕯୨୧ 🦪 ‧₊˚ ⋅
"you're not a little girl anymore," she murmured one night, weeks later, her voice carrying the weight of aged whiskey and unspoken promises.
you were curled in your usual spot beside her, but everything felt different - charged with an electricity that made your skin prickle. you couldn't remember when the maternal comfort of her touch had transformed into something more, but you knew there was no going back.
"i haven't been for a while," you replied, your voice steady despite the way your heart hammered against your ribs. her hand found your chin, tilting your face up to meet her gaze, and you saw in her eyes the same hunger that had been growing in your own.
your fingers traced the rim of your whiskey glass, ice long since melted. the study had grown dark save for the amber glow of her desk lamp, catching the silver in her hair like moonlight on water.
you'd noticed her watching you more lately, her gaze heavy with something between concern and desire.
"you remind me of her sometimes," she said quietly, breaking the silence. "mel, when she was younger."
the comparison should have stung, but you knew better. you'd learned to read between her lines, to understand the weight she carried. you were not mel's replacement - you were something altogether different, more dangerous.
you set your glass down carefully, the crystal making a soft sound against the carpet.
"i'm not her," you said, voice steady as you rose from your chair. "i won't leave."
the words hung in the air between you, heavy with promise and threat. her laugh was low, throaty.
"no, baby girl. you're nothing like her at all, are you?"
she spoke the endearment deliberately this time, watching how it made you shiver. you'd both been playing this game for months - you with your calculated vulnerability, her with her careful restraint.
you moved to stand behind her chair, hands resting on her shoulders. through the silk of her blouse, you felt her tension, the way she stilled like a prey animal. but ambessa medarda was nobody's prey, and you both knew it.
"i need you," you murmured, the words leaden. you were trying not to sound as crazed as you felt . "and you need someone who needs you."
her hand came up to cover yours, her gold rings dense and cool against your skin.
"you're very clever," she said, something like pride coloring her voice. "i should send you away."
"but you won't." you pressed your lips to her temple, breathing in the scent of her perfume - something expensive and french. mango wood and black rose if you remembered correctly, discovered during your illicit investigations of her bedroom. "because you understand me better than anyone. because we're the same."
she turned then, catching your wrist in a grip that walked the line between gentle and controlling.
"the same?" her thumb pressed against your pulse point, counting out the rhythm of your wanting. "you're barely older than my daughter."
"age is just a number," you said, and then laughed at how young it made you sound. "no—that's not what i mean. what i mean is that we both know what we want. we both know how to take it."
the silence stretched between you like spun sugar, delicate and sweet. outside, leaves skittered across the gravel drive, and somewhere in the house, a clock chimed eleven. you watched emotions play across her face - desire, concern, resignation, hunger.
"if we do this," she said finally, her voice rough like aged bourbon, "there's no going back. no playing innocent. no running away when it gets hard."
you smiled, all teeth and triumph poorly disguised as submission.
"i told you," you said, sinking to your knees beside her chair, resting your head against her thigh like you had a hundred times before - but different now, charged with intent. "i'm not going anywhere."
her hand found your hair, nails scraping gently against your scalp.
"my clever, terrible girl," she murmured, and you could hear in her voice that she'd surrendered to this animal between you. "what am i going to do with you?"
you turned your face into her touch, lips brushing against her wrist where her heart copied yours, beat for beat.
"keep me," you said simply. "just keep me."
the study grew quieter still, the only sound was your shared breathing and the distant whisper of wind through bare branches. you'd won, you knew, but then you'd been winning since that first night in the maserati, since you'd looked at her with calculated tears and let her save you. you loved her - truly, deeply, with all the fierce possession of your young heart - but you'd learned from your mother's absence that love wasn't enough. you had to learn how to hold on to what you wanted.
and oh, how you wanted this - wanted her, with her silver-streaked hair and elegant hands and eyes that saw right through you and wanted you anyway.
her fingers tightened in your hair, and you looked up to find her watching you with an expression that made your breath catch. the lamp clicked off, and in the sudden darkness, you felt rather than saw her move. her hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing across your bottom lip.
"stand up," she commanded softly, and you did, letting her guide you until you were perched on the edge of her desk. the wood was cool against your thighs, a sharp contrast to the heat of her body as she stepped between your knees. "are you sure about this?"
your answer was to reach for her, fingers curling into the cotton of her blouse.
"i've never been more sure of anything."
the clock struck quarter past, and the last autumn leaves rattled against the window as she leaned down to kiss you, tasting of whiskey and an affection hard won.
you kissed back lazily, squeezing your thighs together as one of her hands came to direct you by the base of your neck. she slotted the two of you together, lips sliding and grasping at each other between soft inserts of tongue. your teeth seemed to buzz with unnamable energy as she leaned forwards, hands bracing around you, so close to cupping your ass.
you needed her touch, needed to know whether your fantasies had been well-conjured or only pathetic in their imaginings. you’d spent nights tucking your fingers into yourself, trembling quietly as you pictured the shape of her mouth and how it would fit over you.
as if reading your mind, ambessa firmly spread your legs apart with a forceful hand and came closer to you. you let out a weak moan as her teeth scraped your neck, a hand coming to press down on your stomach as if to see how much space she had to fill.
you were so immensely grateful for the flimsy structure of your sleep shorts, the fabric tugged easily down your legs by only one of her fingers. she used that same finger to feel out the shape of your clothed cunt, her throat trembling with a low sound of satisfaction.
you were wet and desperate, wrapping an arm around her broad shoulders so that you could grind against what was now two fingers.
ambessa moved your panties aside with no great effort, sliding a finger into your tight heat. gradually, she built a rhythm inside of you until you were bucking where she held you. after a minute, she slid it out and into her mouth.
“mmm,” she said consideringly. “my babygirl is so sweet for me.”
you’d swallow a boat of fucking blackberries if you had to, choke them down despite your allergies and sealing throat if that meant she’d taste you again.
“ambessa.
she laughed and you saw her eyes glittering in the dark, the light brown so bright with want they seemed gold. it was then you realized you’d never said her first name alone before, and she must’ve realized as well because her hand suddenly clenched around your throat.
“do you remember when you turned twenty and got drunk with those miscreants from the town over?” your mouth twitched at her avid disgust. she could be quite classist. you’d work on that. “you don’t because you practically drank your body weight, but i do. do you want to know why?”
you gasped out a ‘yes’ as she used her free hand to grope the peach of your ass before switching to thumbing at your pebbled nipples.
“i remember that birthday because you stumbled into my room and climbed into bed with me.” you felt dread rising. “you bumped against my back, like a little bunny, and worked yourself into quite the state. and the whole time you kept apologizing. you were saying ‘sorry, mama’, all slurred and saccharine, over and over till you finished.”
you were so hot with shame you could’ve set the house burning. she smiled, slow and teasing, as she pinched your nipple hard. you let out a high moan.
“i liked that.”
you were squirming now, two of her massive fingers back to stretch your pussy.
“i liked it very much. i had to make sure not to wake you as i fucked myself.”
your eyes widened, like two coins, as the words registered. ambessa laughed again and lowered to her knees, yanking you forward so your ass hung off the edge of the desk. she was still tall enough to tower over you, shadowing the sopping mess of your cunt.
with an annoyed roll of her eyes, she pulled her fingers away and reached behind you, returning with a pair of scissors. with two efficient cuts, your panties were hanging in tatters around your hips. your pussy was exposed in all of its pink glory and it pulled apart with a soft squelch as she pushed your thighs up and out, guiding your hands to hold them for her.
she tugged a hair tie from around her wrist, drawing her gray mass of curls into a loose bun. several strands fell around her face, but she only pushed them impatiently behind her ears. you slapped your hand around blindly, eventually flicking on the bright desk lamp.
“i want you to see me,” you breathed, and she cupped your cheek.
“i’ve always seen you.”
and with that, she went down. she started with a long, luxurious lick up your cunt, her lips suckling around your clit as she reached the top. you moaned loudly and dropped your hands from your thighs, raising them to tug and pinch at your tits. she kept your legs open by sliding the bulk of her back between them, sliding back down to lap at your hole.
for someone as rigid as ambessa could be, she was messy when eating you. she didn’t care to savor, not right now. she’d wanted you for what felt like forever, and you wanted to black out beneath her.
she further spread you open, thrusting her tongue into your heat and feeling you clench. back and forth she went, slobbering over the pink of you until you were tearing up. she suctioned her mouth over one of your lips, large and gleaming, pulling away so that it slid from her mouth with a wet extended ‘pop!’. you clutched at her head, rocking yourself into her unforgiving hold. she blew gently over your hole, watched as it fluttered.
“mama, please.”
tenderly, she grazed her teeth over your clit, soothing the sting with her tongue as she sank three fingers inside of you. ambessa fucked you hard and fast, your tits bouncing as you whimpered with a hand over your mouth. a hand came down like thunder on your ass, the crack hard and hot. you wailed and clutched at her, begging her to go faster, to mark you, to swallow you whole.
“there you are, baby girl. tell me what you need.”
“mama, wait—” you shuddered around her crooked fingers, the world turning white as your head grew hazy. “wait. mama.”
“hmm?”
you scrambled at her, pushing her until there was enough space to slide from where you’d settled at her wrist. wobbling, you turned on your hands and knees, pushing your ass up into her face and falling into a brutal arch.
“like this please.”
“anything for my girl,” ambessa said and you shook because you couldn’t see her face but you could feel her voice.
her fingers dove back into you, her mouth joining the effort. you were floating, only briefly aware of the consistent slaps to your ass through the pain ricocheting pleasantly through you. you pushed back, fucking yourself the way you wanted. she let you, steadying you when you began to lose rhythm.
“bessa, i can’t—i can’t see you,” you slurred and she hummed into your weeping pussy.
your stomach grew tighter and tighter, the world narrowing down to the way she slurped and worked into your cunt. you gripped the opposite edge of the desk, extending yourself as your orgasm began to boil over. quickly, ambessa swung herself under you and brought you down on her face. her arms flexed around your stomach, the corded muscle circling you as she moaned into your cunt.
the vibrations set you off. you felt like you were flying, like you were fucking free.
“oh shit, mama. fuuuuckkkk.”
your voice was unrecognizable to yourself, cracking and raspy. time stretched and winded. you knew your legs were shaking, that you’d squirted over her and yourself.
you didn’t know how, but ambessa was undressed now and rearranging you like a doll. you were back up on your knees, but she was draped over you with her heavy tits branding your skin with their warmth and weight. her hair was down and around you; it smelled like her shampoo, a curtain of coconut and cinnamon.
she bumped her hips against you, caught the silicone tip of a dildo again and again against your loose hole. you turned your head and opened your mouth like a baby bird so she could spit into it, stuff her fingers in.
she began to break into you, bullying your cunt into accepting her cock. you did what you always did. you pushed back and let her in.
you only ever gave her what she needed.
⋅˚₊‧ 🕯୨୧ 🦪 ‧₊˚ ⋅
morning light filtered through dense curtains, casting the bedroom in baby pink. you watched your rings catch the light as you stretched - the marquise diamond throwing prisms across egyptian cotton sheets, your simple gold band warm from sleep.
you'd chosen them together - ambessa insisting on the marquise cut for the engagement ring (something as unique as you, sweet girl) while you'd wanted the classic simplicity of the wedding band, a quiet echo of forever.
the bedroom remained your favorite place - all cream linens and dark wood, familiar as breathing. in the mornings, you could pretend time stood still, pressing chapped kisses against her strong bare arms in the quiet before the day began. sometimes you climbed on top of her, sunk as far as you could into the broad helm of her body.
despite the passing years, she remained your most fortified sanctuary.
"baby girl?" ambessa's voice carried from the en-suite, still commanding even wrapped in morning softness.
you could hear the water running; a bath being drawn.
“coming, mama.”
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