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lady-of-endless · 2 days ago

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"Veiled Intentions" (Hwang In-ho/Player 001/Front man x player!reader)

Summary: No game of cat and mouse ends well.

Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who voted for this fic to be done first. I'm happy to provide. He might be a little obsessive, but you should've expected it by now. Don't worry; I got a softer, heartfelt, and angsty fic on the go for tomorrow. Hope you'll enjoy this one until then, darlings!

(Squid Game masterlist here)

Whenever he flashed a smile to the team, no one noticed how the coldness of his eyes was somehow still persistent. The charm of his smile always eclipsed that detail. It was enough to successfully manipulate most players, except for you. The only one who seemed to see the bigger picture was you and he could sense it. No amount of calculated smooth-talking, apparent encouragement, or fake short smiles could trick you too.

The others seemed to accept him easily, either for the calmness that made him seem reliable or for the vital need to have more people with the same vote. Not you, and it was clear to him.

In-ho had a plan going on; he had no intention of wasting time and trying harder to trick you too, letting you do your silent judging. But still, you were slowly becoming more and more present in his mind. You weren't warming up to him, weren't impressed like the others. Why not? More importantly, why did he like it that way? You were smarter and he enjoyed watching you analyzing everyone around, including him. Yes, you were a problem for him, but he was almost proud of having such a fascinating problem to take care of.

In-ho was too good at looking relieved, and joyful whenever the other players from player 456's team made it during the games. You noticed a strange spark in his eyes whenever you also completed the games. Was he really relieved or just glad that with each game he was getting closer to taking care of you personally?

Even now, he was watching you silently when the speakers announced bedtime. You all remembered what was the plan Gi-hun came up with to stay safe and looked around for a lonely bed bunk. Your constant doubt pushed you to come up with a plan to figure him out and now it was the perfect time to strike.

In-ho was ready to make a strategic choice when your voice interrupted his thoughts again.

"Join me?" You asked bluntly, with a warm smile on your face. A fake smile, a reflection of his. He looked at you, raising an eyebrow at your proposal. "For bonding time, getting along." You added, encouragingly, almost playfully, not to stir suspicion in others.

All the other teammates noticed how you kept your distance from him and were glad to see you try to get along.

In-ho almost wanted to chuckle at your reasoning but his expression remained composed. He could tell that you were trying to convince him with your charm and that you only played a role. And he was doing the same.

"Lead the way then." In-ho responded calmly, as always.

In-ho had a small, almost imperceptible smirk on his face the whole time following you, and his eyes were glued to the nape of your neck. How could he ignore you?

You crawled carefully under a bed that was placed closer to a corner no one else chose. A shiver ran down your spine when he joined you effortlessly, making almost no sound at all. The lights dimmed. However, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that the space from under the beds was not enough for two. Both of you were lying down on your backs, staring at the bed from above. His shoulder was pressed against yours, the feeling was impossible to push aside.

You closed your eyes tightly, cursing the tight space and sighing deeply. Why didn't you think this through? In-ho was amused by your frustration and how your body tensed next to his.

"You seemed so sure about this." He teased with a mocking tone he didn't even try to hide.

The way his voice sounded so intimate in the dark and how his warmth surrounded you, were making it hard to stick to the plan. You grew a little hotter under your clothes but you had to go for it. You took a breath in and spoke in a whisper.

"I can see right through your tactics." You said bluntly, still looking at the bed from above to avoid his gaze, knowing how intense it gets sometimes. You were almost proud of the sternness of your tone. "What are your intentions?"

He didn't respond right away, taking time to just look at your expression. In-ho was a meticulous man, he was expecting that question sooner or later from you.

"Wasn't I clear from the start?" In-ho asked calmly, almost innocently, switching his position to lay on his stomach and elbows, never losing sight of you. That position forced you to look up at him, exactly the way he liked it. He was getting too comfortable for someone who was cornered. Seeing how there was no sign of panic or surprise on his face, the previous boost of confidence was starting to slowly diminish in you.

"I think we both know what I mean." You added coldly, letting him know you've had enough of his games. He could feel your patience running thin and he was enjoying it.

Your assumption was true; you were so close to figuring it out but, at the same time, so far away, so clueless about what he really wanted, what he really was capable of. It gave him the freedom of acting anyways he wanted for a little bit.

"Indeed." He said, seeing an opening and moving a hand to the opposite side of your face on the floor, making it look like he was just supporting himself and not caging you. "And that's because you're playing the same games, don't you agree?" He asked smoothly. He watched as you rolled your eyes and looked away to hide your real reaction, taking you longer to respond. In-ho didn't insist, wanting to take his time exposing you bit by bit. When you turned your head back at him to answer, your heart halted, words dying. Your eyes met intimately, his face was even closer than expected.

"It won't work with me." His breath touched your lips. He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear to see your face better. He frowned when he caught himself giving in to his instincts, his fingertips caressing your cheek and stopping on your lower lip without thinking.

"But your tries were..." He added, applying pressure on your sensitive skin and moving his lips even closer to yours slowly. "Entertaining, to say the least."

In-ho watched your expression closely, observing the details of your face in the dark. He couldn't get enough that moment but his face didn't betray any sign of the greed that was coursing through him. So he didn't stop there, using the momentum of your shock.

"Was it fun?" He asked, mercilessly but blissfully tormenting and playing you. "To feel like you had the upper hand?" He whispered while his hand descended to the base of your neck.

In-ho looked at your parted lips again, waiting for your answer and not moving away. There was a storm of conflicted thoughts in your mind and the warmth of his palm on your pulse point was not helping you find a good answer in time.

"Answer me." His grip tightened slightly, his tone smooth yet demanding. "And look at me, darling"

You looked up at him and nodded, admitting silently. Finally, you understood what you got yourself into and felt more than exposed. It was frustrating how easily he switched the roles from being the one interrogated to the one asking whatever he wanted.

You shivered at the sight of his subtle smirk. It was nothing like the bright fake smile he offered to the team. One corner of his lips curled upwards while the rest of his expression remained composed. His eyes glinted with icy, calculated sharpness. Finally, you could see him, whoever he was, and not the simple player 001.

In-ho was studying her, thinking about how you weren't aware of the effect you had on him from how well he was concealing it. Still, none of your questions were answered.

"What are you going to-"

"Hush." He murmured against your lips, cutting your words. "Don't wake the others."

In-ho slowly traced your collarbones through the thin material of the shirt with your player number and placed his whole palm on your chest over your racing heart. He paused, just to feel your heart, taking credit for its hectic beating. The silence that surrounded you was not helping either, you could hear every breath, every move, enhancing the intimate feeling so much you had to remind yourself that you were still in the middle of a sick challenge with daily deadly games.

He looked back into your eyes and spoke softly, seeing your inner conflict, wanting to distract you from it. "I've caught you staring at me so many times."

"I was just spacing out." You whispered, not hesitating this time but still telling him another lie.

Even the always calm, rarely out of character In-ho chuckled at that. It was a pleasant, unfiltered but still strange sound.

"Liar." He said while caressing your hair again but making sure to tug gently at the roots as a warning. "You had so many opportunities to push me away since we got under here." He whispered, almost tenderly, meaning it. His eyes were not locked on yours. Was it because he was letting himself think out loud? "But you don't want to do that..." He added, pausing his touches, giving you time to object. But the truth was that your denial ended with him calling you 'darling'. That waited objection never came and In-ho understood.

With that, he allowed himself to take what he wanted. He thought to himself that it was inevitable. His lips found yours with an unexpected gentleness despite his restrained hunger. The hellhole you were trapped in seemed to fade away with the way his lips explored yours. His fingers tightened possessively against your skin as the kiss deepened. His warmth was embracing you blissfully but his tongue was making you dizzy with each breath he was stealing from you.

After what felt like time, bending to his will, In-ho broke the kiss slowly. Even if you didn't say a word, he still covered your lips with his finger for a moment.

"I'm expecting you to still be smart about this and keep it private." He spoke in your ear, an expectation or a warning. "Do that and you'll be safe no matter what."

What you couldn't understand was that this was a hidden promise. If you kept whatever he gave you a secret for yourself, he would pull all the strings to get you alone with him, away from that game.

#squid game #squid game 2 #squidgame #hwang in ho #player 001 #front man #hwang in ho x reader #front man x reader #player 001 x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game fic #squid game x reader #squid game x you #squid game x y/n

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secretmaniacc · 2 days ago

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RIDE OR DIE

Parings: The salesman x Fem!oc

Summary: Two fierce recruiters, locked in a heated rivalry over who can secure the most players, strike an unusual deal: whoever wins the next recruit gets to drag the other out to dinner. But when tempers flare and egos clash, their “game” turns into a battle of wits, slaps, and simmering tension. What starts as a simple challenge spirals into something far more unpredictable—because in their world, nothing ever goes as planned.

Warnings: slow burn, language, violence, dom!salesman x baddie oc, teasing, work rivals, kissing, fingering sex, mentions of blood, slapping, maybe something else that I don’t remember.

Wc: 5.4k

A/n: this is my first post and idk how do you use tumblr and I can’t even add warnings cuz idk what should I warn about but I hope y’all can enjoy wtv the hell I wrote, English isn’t my first language so no attacking. Not proofread. This is so bad ik.

The dimly lit café hummed with quiet chatter, the occasional clatter of cups breaking the tension in the air. She adjusted her sunglasses, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she leaned forward, her fingers tapping softly against the edge of the table. The man seated across from her was sweating through his cheap dress shirt, his eyes darting nervously to the plain white envelope she'd slid toward him just moments ago.

"Inside that envelope," she began, her voice calm but charged with intent, "is the answer to all your problems. Every overdue bill, every phone call you're dodging, every sleepless night. All gone."

He hesitated, staring at the envelope like it might bite him. "I don't know... I mean, this doesn't sound—"

"—legal?" she finished for him, leaning back casually. She tilted her head, the smirk widening. "You'd be right. It's not. But when has that ever stopped you before?"

His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Bingo, she thought, watching him flounder. That reaction told her everything she needed to know.

"Think about it," she pressed, her voice dropping an octave, almost a whisper. "A few games. A few hours. And then you walk away with enough money to start fresh. No more debt. No more hiding."

He reached for the envelope, his hand trembling. But just as his fingertips brushed the edge of it—

A familiar voice cut through the air. "Amateur move, don't you think?"

Her eyes narrowed behind her sunglasses. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Only one person could manage to sound both smug and bored in the same sentence.

"Go away," she said flatly, her tone ice-cold.

But of course, he didn't.

"I mean, honestly," the salesman continued, sliding into the booth beside the man like he owned the place. "Laying it all out like that? Where's the finesse? The mystery? The intrigue?"

She finally turned her head, pushing her sunglasses down just enough to meet his eyes. "Do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?"

"Not when I'm right," he replied, flashing her that infuriatingly cocky smile.

She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, and gave him a sweet, fake smile in return. "Right about what? Annoying the hell out of me? Congratulations, you've mastered the art."

The man between them shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting from her to the salesman and back again. "Uh, I should probably—"

"You're not going anywhere," she said sharply, cutting him off. She reached for the envelope and slid it back toward the man with deliberate slowness, her gaze never leaving the salesman. "You want to talk about finesse? Fine. Let's talk about your pitch. What is it this time? Another mysterious slap game in the subway? Real creative."

He laughed, the sound low and easy, and leaned back in the booth. "What can I say? It works."

"Until it doesn't," she shot back.

"Why don't we let him decide?" he countered, gesturing to the man, who looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

She turned her attention back to her target, her expression softening. "You want to trust him? Go ahead. But let me ask you this: When he disappears into thin air after taking his cut, who's going to be there to clean up the mess? Not him."

The salesman's grin faltered, just for a second, but it was enough to make her smirk.

"Fine," he said, standing abruptly and brushing imaginary lint off his suit jacket. "He's all yours. Let's see if your little sob story gets him to bite."

"Gladly," she replied, leaning back with a victorious gleam in her eyes.

But as he turned to leave, he leaned in close, just enough for his breath to brush against her ear. "Next time, sweetheart, try not to play so dirty. It's almost cute how hard you're trying to beat me."

She didn't flinch, didn't react, even as her grip tightened on the edge of the table. He chuckled softly and walked away, leaving her with the trembling man and the lingering scent of his cologne.

"You should take the deal," she said finally, sliding the envelope across the table one last time. "Before someone else comes along and makes it worse for you."

This time, he took it without hesitation.

As she left the café, she spotted the salesman leaning casually against a lamppost outside, twirling a coin between his fingers.

"You owe me," she called out, not breaking stride.

"For what?"

"For not strangling you in there."

His laugh followed her down the street, a sound that stuck in her head longer than she cared to admit.

Next day

She pushed the door to the briefing room open with a little more force than necessary, her heels clicking sharply against the tiled floor. He was already there, of course, leaning back in one of the chairs, his feet propped up on the table like he owned the place. The sight made her want to turn around and walk right back out.

The office reeked of stale coffee and carried the faint metallic tang of the envelopes they used to seal people's fates. Spotting their shared desk, she sauntered over and dropped into her chair, leaning back with a casual air. Her red-tipped nails drummed a steady rhythm against the table, a small but deliberate sound to break the silence.

"So," she started, her voice smooth but sharp enough to cut, "how many desperate souls did you con into signing today?"

"You're late," he drawled, not even bothering to glance up from the notepad he was scribbling on, "I've already got a head start."

She ignored him, tossing her clipboard onto the table with a loud thwack. "Four recruits," she announced, while sitting in the chair across from him.

That got his attention. He arched an eyebrow, finally glancing up. "Four? That's cute."

Her lips twitched, but she kept her expression neutral. "Better than your three."

The smug grin he'd been wearing all evening faltered for a split second, and the sight was immensely satisfying. He quickly recovered, sitting up straighter and folding his arms over his chest. "Who says I only got three?"

"I saw you at the station earlier," she shot back. "Your guy ran off before you could even give him the envelope."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong," he said, leaning forward with a conspiratorial glint in his eye. "He came back. Took the bait. Easy money."

She narrowed her eyes, trying to gauge whether he was bluffing. With him, it was impossible to tell. He could sell a lie as easily as breathing, and she hated how good he was at it.

"Let's see the proof, then," she said, gesturing to his notepad.

He hesitated, just long enough for her to pounce.

"Liar," she said smugly, leaning back in her chair.

"Fine," he admitted, tossing the notepad onto the table. "Three. But mine were quality recruits. You're probably scraping the bottom of the barrel as usual."

She bristled at that, her fingers curling into fists under the table. "Quality? The last guy you brought in was a drunk who passed out halfway through the first game."

"And he still made it further than your little college dropout," he countered.

"That dropout lasted three games," she snapped. "And he made us more money than any of your recruits ever have."

"Us?" He laughed, the sound low and mocking. "Sweetheart, there is no 'us.' This is a solo game, remember? And right now, you're losing."

The word sweetheart grated against her nerves, but she forced herself to stay calm. She wasn't about to let him see how much he was getting under her skin.

"Keep telling yourself that," she said coolly, pulling out a pen and jotting down the day's numbers on her clipboard. "Meanwhile, I'll be over here actually doing my job."

He watched her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he reached across the table and snatched the clipboard out of her hands.

"Hey!" she protested, but he held it just out of her reach, flipping through the pages with a smug grin.

"Let's see... Ah, there it is," he said, tapping the page with the end of her pen. "Four names. Not bad. But you forgot to include the part where they all looked ready to bolt the second you left."

She lunged for the clipboard, but he pulled it back again, chuckling under his breath. "Careful now," he teased. "Wouldn't want to make a scene, would we?"

She glared at him, her jaw tightening. "Give it back."

"Say please."

"Go to hell."

He laughed again, but this time, he relented, sliding the clipboard across the table. She snatched it up, smoothing the crumpled pages with deliberate care.

"You're insufferable, you know that?" she muttered, not bothering to look at him.

"And yet, you keep coming back," he replied, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.

She bit back the retort that was on the tip of her tongue, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her lose her composure. Instead, she focused on her clipboard, pretending he didn't exist.

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, he broke it.

"You know, you're lucky you have me as competition."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And why's that?"

"Because I keep you on your toes," he said, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers behind his head. "Admit it. If it weren't for me, this job would be boring as hell."

"Boring?" she repeated, her tone icy. "You think ruining people's lives is boring?"

"Don't get all self-righteous on me," he said, his voice low and teasing. "We both know you enjoy the thrill just as much as I do."

She opened her mouth to argue, but the words caught in her throat. He wasn't wrong, and they both knew it.

"Speaking of thrill," he continued, his eyes gleaming with mischief, "how about a little wager?"

She narrowed her eyes. "What kind of wager?"

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Next recruit wins."

"Wins what?" she asked warily.

He shrugged, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Bragging rights. And dinner."

She snorted. "You think I'd let you take me to dinner?"

"Who said I'd be taking you?" he shot back, his grin widening. "You'd be taking me."

The audacity of it made her laugh, a sharp, bitter sound that echoed through the sterile room.

"Fine," she said, standing up and smoothing her pencil skirt. "But don't cry when you lose."

"Don't worry about me, sweetheart," he said, rising to his feet and adjusting his tie. "Worry about yourself."

With that, she grabbed her clipboard and swept out of the room, her heels clicking sharply against the tiled floor.

Later That Night

The neon lights of the city cast a harsh glow on the bustling streets, illuminating the restless hum of nightlife. Cars honked in the distance, their headlights cutting through the mist rising from sewer grates. She stood near the entrance of a seedy-looking diner, a faint flicker of its neon sign sputtering above her. The air smelled of fried food and rain-soaked pavement, but she didn't notice. Her sharp eyes scanned the crowd like a predator hunting for its next meal.

She didn't need long to spot potential. It was always the same—the defeated ones, with slumped shoulders and darting eyes. They carried their desperation in their posture, wearing it like a beacon.

Her instincts honed in on a middle-aged man in a rumpled suit leaning against a lamppost. He clutched a briefcase to his chest like it was his last lifeline, his lips moving silently, perhaps rehearsing excuses or trying to summon courage to return home empty-handed.

Perfect.

Before she could move, a faint ripple of awareness prickled at the back of her neck. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"Stalking me now?" she asked, her tone sharp but low enough to remain unnoticed.

"Just observing," came his smooth reply, closer than she expected. "Wouldn't want you accusing me of cheating."

Her lips twitched, almost betraying a smile, but she held it back. "You can't cheat at something you're already losing."

"Keep telling yourself that," he said, and she could feel the smirk in his voice without even glancing back.

She pushed his presence to the back of her mind, focusing instead on her target. With a subtle breath, she strode forward, heels clicking against the pavement, the sound cutting through the ambient noise of the street. She approached the man with the kind of confidence that disarmed even the wariest prey.

"Rough night?" she asked, her voice soft and sympathetic, like the purr of a cat just before it strikes.

The man flinched slightly, his tired eyes meeting hers with a flicker of suspicion. "Something like that," he muttered, his voice hoarse and uncertain.

She tilted her head, her expression warm but unreadable. "Well," she said, slipping an envelope from her jacket pocket and holding it out to him, "what if I told you there's a way to turn your luck around?"

The man hesitated, his eyes flicking between her face and the envelope as if weighing the risks. Behind her, she felt his presence again, closer this time. The faintest shuffle of shoes on asphalt told her he was watching, and she resisted the urge to smirk. This one was as good as hers.

Just as the man reached out to take the envelope, a hand shot over her shoulder and plucked it from her grasp.

"Now, now," he said, stepping into view with that maddeningly smug grin, twirling the envelope between his fingers like a magician showing off a trick. "Let's not rush things."

Her jaw tightened, the air around her practically crackling with tension. "What the hell are you doing?" she hissed, her voice low and sharp.

"Just helping out," he replied, unfazed by her glare. With a deliberate slowness, he handed the envelope back to her, throwing in a playful wink that made her blood boil.

The man, caught in the crossfire, glanced between them, his confusion turning into hesitation. "Uh... Is this some kind of scam?"

"Not at all," he said quickly, his tone dripping with practiced reassurance. His smile widened, radiating a charm that seemed almost genuine. "We're just offering a little game. High stakes, high rewards. Interested?"

The man hesitated, his grip on the briefcase tightening. "What kind of game?"

"It's simple," he said, crouching and slamming the folded paper onto the pavement with a sharp snap. "You use your own tile and try to flip mine. If you win, you keep the envelope and some extra cash." He pulled a wad of bills from his pocket, fanning them out enticingly.

"And if I lose?"

He smirked, the gesture sharp and taunting. "Then I get to slap you. Fair trade, don't you think?"

The man recoiled, his skepticism deepening. "What kind of twisted game is this?"

"Just a little fun," the salesman said, his tone light but unyielding. "Besides, no one plays if they think they're going to lose. Are you scared you'll lose?"

She suppressed a groan. He always did this—pushing just hard enough to make them take the bait.

"Or, you take the envelope and walk away, no games required." She suggested.

Her rival's chuckle was low, almost teasing. "Where's the fun in that? And where's the money he so desperately needs, Let him decide."

The man glanced at the envelope, then at the money, and finally at the salesman's smirk. "Fine. I'll play."

Her rival's grin widened. "Excellent.", gesturing toward a nearby alleyway. "Let's make this quick."

She followed them into the dimly lit alley, her annoyance simmering just beneath the surface. He always turned everything into a game, always needed to prove he was one step ahead

He handed the man a folded paper tile, stepping back and gesturing for him to begin. The man crouched, his hand trembling slightly as he slapped his tile against the one on the ground. It barely budged.

"Not bad," the salesman said, picking up the tile. "But let me show you how it's done."

He crouched, his movements fluid and confident. With a sharp snap, his tile slammed down, flipping the man's effortlessly.

Without missing a beat, he straightened and grinned. "Looks like I win this round." He raised his hand, his smirk deepening.

The man flinched, bracing himself, but the salesman stopped short, hovering just close enough to make him sweat. Before delivering a slap that echoed through the alleyway like a gunshot. The man staggered back, holding his cheek with a mix of shock and indignation.

"Oh my—" she whispered, flinching

The salesman, unfazed and borderline proud, grinned down at the man. "another round?."

The man blinked, rubbing his face. "don't you think this was abit painful?"

"Wasn't this our deal?"

"Alright, I'll go again," the man exclaimed, determination etched on his face. He grabbed the colored tile with trembling fingers and slammed it down with force.

The tile on the ground barely budged.

Slap.

Minutes passed, and the man refused to give up, his voice hoarse as he repeatedly asked for another round. His face, now blotched with red and purpling bruises, told the story of his futile persistence.

Growing impatient with the drawn-out game and the waste of her time, she decided to intervene. Not only had her rival stolen her recruit, but he was also dragging this nonsense far longer than necessary.

"I'll go easy on you this time," she heard him say, his voice laced with mock compassion.

"Or," she interjected sharply, pulling a thick stack of cash from her pocket, "you let me take over and raise the stakes."

Her rival's brows lifted, amusement lighting up his face. "Feeling brave, are we?"

"I just like winning," she retorted, her tone clipped as she handed the cash and envelope to the bruised man. "I don't think you have a reason to continue this."

The man hesitated for only a moment before greed overtook him. He snatched the envelope and money from her outstretched hand, shoving them hastily into his pocket. "Thanks," he muttered, practically sprinting into the crowd and out of sight.

She turned, her eyes narrowing as they locked onto her rival. "Happy now? You scared him off."

He smirked, stepping closer, his movements deliberate and calculated. "Scared him? I think I made his night."

"Your ego is insufferable," she said, arms crossing over her chest.

"Is it?" he countered, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from her face with a maddeningly light touch. "Or is it just that you don't like losing?"

Her pulse quickened at the proximity, but she refused to show any sign of weakness. "I didn't lose. He took my deal."

His smirk deepened, his expression dripping with arrogance. "If that helps you sleep at night."

Before she could reply, he leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, velvety murmur. "The game's not over yet. Want to take his place?"

Her breath caught as his fingers grazed hers, sliding the blue tile into her palm before he pulled away. The motion was deliberate, calculated to unnerve her, but she refused to let him win that easily.

She exhaled sharply, tilting her chin upward as she crouched down. Focusing on the game, she slapped her tile against the ground with all the force she could muster.

The crack echoed through the narrow alley, but the result was disappointing—the tile barely shifted.

"Tough break," he quipped, crouching beside her, his voice a teasing whisper. "Maybe you should let me teach you a thing or two."

Her eyes snapped to his, sharp and unwavering. For a moment, the tension between them was palpable, an electric crackle in the chilly air.

"I don't need your lessons," she bit out, rising to her feet and brushing past him, her jaw tight.

"Alright then," he said with infuriating ease. He crouched effortlessly, his movements smooth as silk. With a single, sharp slap, his tile flipped hers with almost mocking precision.

Standing, he turned toward her, a mock pout curving his lips. "I guess I'll have to slap that pretty face of yours now. May I?" he asked, his voice dripping with a false politeness that made her blood boil.

Her jaw tightened, and she nodded stiffly. Before she could brace herself, his hand connected sharply with her cheek. The slap rang out in the alleyway like a firecracker, her head snapping to the side with the force.

Pain bloomed hot and fast, her body recoiling slightly as she stumbled a step back. She could already feel the beginnings of a bruise forming, the sting radiating from her skin.

Her chest rose and fell as she steadied herself. "Again," she demanded, her voice steely.

This time, she took her turn, and with a fierce slap of her tile, she flipped his. A slow, triumphant grin spread across her face.

"Your turn," she said smoothly, stepping closer.

His smug grin never wavered, even as he leaned in for his next move. The sharp crack of his tile meeting her tile.

he missed.

His tile flipped awkwardly, tumbling off-course and skidding out of bounds. A flash of annoyance crossed his face, but before he could recover, her palm came down with brutal precision. The slap echoed louder this time.

He staggered slightly, his face turning away as her hand left a bright, stinging imprint on his cheekbone. The smirk she wore grew darker, more dangerous. "Losing your touch?" she taunted, her voice mocking.

His jaw tensed, but he said nothing, merely resetting the tiles and motioning for the game to continue.

The game continued, the back-and-forth intensified, each slap a resounding echo through the narrow alleyway. The tension between them crackled like static electricity, thickening with every calculated strike. Her cheek throbbed, the sting from his earlier slap blooming into a vivid bruise, while his jawline reddened with the marks of her retaliation.

Then she missed.

Her tile spun wildly off-course, landing far from where it needed to be. The mistake was glaring, and he seized the moment without hesitation. His hand came down with brutal force, striking her cheek hard enough that the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.

The impact sent her staggering, and this time, a trickle of blood began to run from her nose. She stood frozen for a moment, her fingers brushing against her upper lip. Crimson streaks stained her pale skin, a sharp contrast that only seemed to embolden her defiance.

She tilted her head back slightly, wiping the blood with the back of her hand, smearing it rather than cleaning it. When she looked back at him, her smirk was intact, as sharp as ever.

"What's the matter?" she teased, her voice biting despite the blood. "that's all what you've got?"

For the first time, his confidence faltered. His hand, raised for the next strike, but then froze mid-air. Her face painted with blood hit harder than any slap, and the hesitation in his expression was palpable.

Before she could press further, he stepped forward abruptly, closing the distance between them in one smooth, deliberate motion. His hand dropped from the air to grip her arm firmly, and he pushed her back against the cold brick wall.

The impact stole the air from her lungs, the rough texture of the wall biting into her back. Yet her smirk didn't waver. If anything, it grew sharper, her chin tilting upward as if daring him to try harder. His arms came up, caging her in, palms pressed against the wall on either side of her head. Her breath hitched at his closeness, but she refused to let him see her flinch.

His eyes flicked to her nose, catching the blood still trickling down. Slowly, with deliberate precision, he raised his hand.

She braced herself for another strike, but instead, his thumb brushed against her face. The unexpected gentleness of the motion sent a shiver down her spine, though she masked it well. His thumb wiped away the blood, his touch lingering a second longer than necessary.

He pulled his hand back, glancing at the crimson streak now staining his thumb. Without breaking eye contact, he reached down and wiped it clean on her shirt, the motion casual but calculated.

"Better?" he asked, his tone mocking, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Her smirk dissolved into a sharp scowl, her voice snapping as she opened her mouth. "You—"

He cut her off without a word, his lips crashing against hers in a fiery, passionate kiss. The world around them faded as his hand ditched the wall completely, roaming over her body, pulling her impossibly closer.

For a moment, she pulled back, eyes wide with shock, breathless and taken aback as if the kiss had surged through her like electricity, igniting every nerve ending. What had just happened? How had everything shifted in the blink of an eye? But before she could fully process the intensity of her feelings, his grip tightened on her hips, anchoring her in place, and the heat radiating from him was undeniable, wrapping around her like a warm blanket.

Her heart raced, a wild flutter in her chest that felt like it could lift her off the ground. There was something magnetic in the way he looked at her, a primal pull she could no longer resist. The air was thick with tension, charged with unspoken promises, and just when she thought she might pull away entirely, the fire in his gaze ignited something deep within her.

With a soft sigh of surrender, she leaned back into him, allowing herself to melt against his body. He cupped her face, his thumb brushing along her cheek, as if memorizing the delicate curve of her features. And then his lips crashed into hers again, hungry and demanding, hungry as though he had been waiting for this moment forever. This time, he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping past her lips to dance with hers in a slow, teasing rhythm that sent shivers down her spine.

She gasped at the sheer sensation, heat pooling in her core as every ounce of tension from earlier evaporated in an instant. The taste of him was intoxicating—warm, slightly sweet, and utterly captivating. Her hands found their way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him for more.

He pulled her closer still, his hands roaming over the small of her back, mapping every curve as if he were trying to memorize her with his touch, urging her to lift her legs around his waist. Instinctively, she obliged, feeling the strength of his body as he lifted her effortlessly. she wrapped her legs around his waist, instinctively urging him to lift her higher, to take her deeper into his embrace, their bodies fitting together perfectly—two pieces of a puzzle that had finally found their match.

The world around them vanished, a blurred backdrop to this moment where only they existed. He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing kisses down her jaw, throughout until he meets her neck, pausing to nibble at the sensitive skin just below her ear, igniting fire in her veins with each flick of his tongue and gentle bite. She could feel the tension in his body, the way he held her tightly as if he feared she might slip away. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her impossibly closer, their bodies pressed together in a way that felt electric.

When his lips began to trail again over her delicate skin, she hissed, "You can't leave more marks; they'll know."

He paused, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze, a teasing light in his eyes. "How would they know it's me?" he murmured against her skin.

"The cameras," she whispered, referring to the implanted devices on both their jackets that monitored their work. But just as the words left her lips, she felt his mouth curl into a smirk against her neck.

"Then we might as well give them a show and leave as many marks as I want." He falls back into her skin, his lips teasing the flesh between his teeth as he moves to mark her as his own. His lips pause at one of the pulse points on her neck, noticing how her heartbeat quickens and flutters. Was this typical?

He wasn't sure, but he finds himself praying it's a good thing. A chuckle escapes him as her hands grow desperate, pulling at the back of his head, stifling a groan. "Easy, girl."

"Remember when you said you'd never kiss me? That I wasn't worth it?" she teases, a playful smile flickering on her lips.

"Fuck, did I really say that? I don't recall," he replies, feigning shock.

"Just saying that because you can't make me come," she laughs softly against him, and he can't help the way a small smile curves his lips. His fingers slip underneath her skirt, pushing past the hem of her panties. He finds her wetness already coating his fingers. "Can't make you come yet you're so wet for me, hm?"

She bites her lip, allowing her hips to sway against his fingers as pleasure envelops her thoughts. Though he's unsure of what exactly to do, he has overheard other men discussing this, and he hopes it delivers as much pleasure as they say when he dips a finger inside her. She's loose around him, wet, eagerly sucking him in. He quickly adds another finger, finding his rhythm almost immediately and growing bold. He dares to let his thumb tease the edges of her clit.

He notices the way her nails dig into his shoulders, biting her tongue so hard that crimson might seep forth at any moment.

The salesman had kissed many women, been on the brink of sex, yet none had reacted the way she did. They were quick to show their responses, every emotion not hidden behind a curtain of embarrassment; yet now, despite the situation, she found herself shy about making noise. He allows another finger to push inside her, the pink velvet of her insides gripping him. He hears her gasp when his fingers threaten to curl, and he allows himself another smile. His thumb finds her clit again, and that's when her grip becomes lethal, biting her lip no longer serving as a guard for her moans.

"Please," she mumbles, whimpering.

"Please what, sweetheart?"

"I... I need you," she moans, surprising herself with her confessions to a man so dangerously psychotic, one who has killed and toyed with lives—this was something she swore she would never do. Yet here she was, becoming intimate with him, and his touch felt so gentle it was as if his past didn't exist. She can see the vein pulsing in his neck as he finally pulls his fingers out, his eyes fixed on hers as he moves his hand to his mouth, savoring her taste.

Her pupils dilate at the sight, skin warming before she realizes she's replacing his fingers with her tongue, pressing her mouth against his again. His hand falls to her waist.

Now every kiss deepens, an intoxicating blend of urgency and desire. She feels each heartbeat echoing between them. Every brush of their lips sends sparks racing through her veins, igniting every part of her being. It's primal and raw, yet intimately tender, as if they were revealing hidden parts of themselves that only the other could see.

Their lips finally part after what feels like an eternity, both gasping for breath. Foreheads resting against each other, they feel the warmth radiating from their skin, their hearts racing in unison. His eyes flutter open to find her looking up at him, a soft, teasing smile spreading across her face.

"You can put me down now," she breathes, her eyes dancing with mischief.

He reluctantly lowers her to the ground, still holding her gaze, trying to steady himself.

But as soon as her feet touch the ground, she kneels right at his crotch. "That's for not giving me a warning," she laughs, her sound teasing and light.

He winces, a mixture of surprise and discomfort crossing his features as he stumbles back. "Fuck."

She turns with a gleaming smile, beginning to walk away, glancing over her shoulder. "And now... I win. Dinner is on you," she calls back, her laughter lingering in the air.

"We are not done yet!" he calls out one last time, holding himself in pain.

#squid game #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game salesman #squid game smut #the salesman #the salesman x reader #salesman smut #gong yoo x reader #first post #be nice #i’ll cry

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startaegi · 3 days ago

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ON THE RUN, cho hyunju. 【 CHAPTER 01 】

⤑ pairing, cho hyunju x fem!reader

⤑ synopsis, where secret-not so secret lovers, hyunju and yn find each other in the unlikely of places.

⤑ series masterlist, on the run.

⤑ chapter two, coming soon!

⤑ notes, hi welcome to my first fic on here! i haven’t written anything in years but i couldn’t not write something for my girl bcos she deserves all the love. anyways enjoy, i hope it isn’t too bad!! 🫶🏻

⤑ taglist, @etta-huracan (if you would like to be added let me know)

The day seemed to pass slowly. You spent most of it watching the hours tick by. Midnight at Hangang Bridge the robotic voice had said when calling the unknown number two days ago, a number from a card you'd received from a well dressed man in Sinchon station. Your face was still slightly bruised from that interaction, you had never been the best at playing ddakji. It was 30 minutes until 12 and you knew if you didn't leave now, you wouldn't make it on time. As risky as it was you weren't missing out on the opportunity to potentially win life changing money.

You unplugged your phone from the charger and switched off the broken lamp that did nothing to light your room. The apartment was small, all contained in one room minus the bathroom but it was the best you could get with what you have. You slipped on your shoes, eyes scanning the place one last time and eventually landing on the fridge. The note she had left was still there, her messy handwriting followed by little hearts in the corner, you could picture her folded over the kitchen island, a little smile on her face as she doodled her love onto the page. You missed her more than anything.

You quickly pulled yourself together closing the door behind you. A noise to the left startled you, keys almost falling from your hands. The sweet lady who owned the building with her son was hiding herself from view of the streets, the curtains slightly moving from the wind. "Hi, Ajumma" You called.

She turned with a smile on her face, backing away from the window. "Oh hello Y/N love" She replied.

"Are you okay?" You questioned. It wasn't like her to be roaming around the halls so late in the night especially at her age.

"I don't want to worry you" She said hesitantly. You froze, mind instantly going to Hyunju. Did she finally come by? "Those same men where outside again, no good for nothing they are" She seethed.

Your heart sank. "Oh"

"I've been keeping an eye on them just in case but looks like they're gone now" She said, walking alongside you towards the exit. "You're leaving late? Everything okay?" She asked.

You nodded. "Going to visit a friend for a while, i'll be back in time for rent payments" You assured her, the last thing you needed was to be evicted.

She patted your shoulder affectionately. "Don't worry about that, you go have a nice time" She smiled. "You deserve it"

You paused for a second, words caught in your throat. "If-" You started. "If you see Hyunju can you tell her i'll be back soon? Tell her not to go anywhere, please" You practically begged. It would be just your luck, the moment you leave she would appear again.

Her eyes softened, a look of sympathy flashed across her face. She nodded, caressing your shoulder again. "Of course I will sweetheart. You still haven't heard from her?" She questioned.

You shook your head. It had been 30 days, an entire month since you last seen the one good thing in your life. You were left with a text message, one you'd read more times than you could count, one you could recite by heart if asked. She was leaving but she'd be back soon. At first you were angry, how dare she leave you after everything you'd been through together, with just a message through a screen. Then the days turned to weeks and your anger became worry. Where was she? Why wasn't she returning your calls or texts? You didn't want to expect the worst but in the country you lived as the people you both are, being alone wasn't a good idea. You lost sleep, your headaches not that you thought they could, somehow became worse. Your medication bottles became empty and your pockets just the same. You only hope she'll be back by the time you return and this time you'll have a bank balance enough to get you out of this place.

You finally left the building when another resident entered, distracting the older woman and making your exit, but of course not forgetting to say goodbye. The rain was heavy, bouncing against the cracked pavements. The silence is eerie. The broken street lamps flicker casting shadows on the wet pavements, your jacket doesn't have a hood leaving your hair to get drenched by the midnight drizzle. You scan the roads, no cars or people in sight. An overwhelming feeling of anxiety washes over you, a familiar sensation that mostly greets you in the night.

You don't have time to dwell on it as a beam of headlights approach you. A silver car pulls up beside you, the passenger side window rolls down. You're taken back at the person sat in the driver seat, face concealed by a black mask. They're also wearing a pink suit, their entire body hidden.

"Name?" The masked person questions.

"Y/N L/N" You reply, droplets of rain falling against your open lips.

They don't reply instead the back door clicks open. You quickly slide into the empty seat shielding yourself from the rain. You push the wet hair from your eyes only then noticing other people sat in the seats around you, seemingly asleep.

"Uh, excuse me?" You ask the masked driver. "What's-" You stop mid sentence, suddenly it becomes harder to breathe and a mysterious mist fogs your eyesight. You struggle to move your mouth, your entire body feels heavy. You feel the jolt of the car starting again and before you know it you're being sent into a slumber completely unaware of the hell that awaits you.

#cho hyun ju x reader #player 120 x reader #squid game x reader #cho hyunju #player 120 #squid game x fem reader #cho hyunju x fem reader #player 120 x fem reader

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peachesofteal · 12 hours ago

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I know Azriel has amassed a ton of wealth over centuries from doing the dirtiest work, and rarely spends it. He's never really had a need to. Of course, he buys gifts for his family, covers tabs at Rita's, buys himself things, essentials, etc but when it comes to spending for enjoyment or spending to indulge, it just doesn't happen.

He's not looking for reasons, either, until he literally stumbles into one.

You trip and fall into him in the Palace of Thread and Jewels. Trip over something on the ground, get twisted up, and flail forward, right into his path. You're rose and pink pepper, floral, sharp, sweet in a way he cannot fathom, and he doesn't think before stopping your fall. He just reacts, grabbing you around the arms and pulling you upright, holding you steady as you recalibrate your balance, looking up into his face, eyes shining bright like the stars. They're brilliant, full of life, but lined with an undercurrent of stress, of worry, he does not understand.

You're fumbling over an apology as he studies you, scrutinizing every detail on your face, down to the chap of your lips.

He's never seen a High Fae look so... off before, and they're not known to be clumsy.

"Are you alright?" It's polite to inquire, he assures himself, it's the right thing to do.

"I'm fine," you smile but it doesn't touch your eyes, "thanks. Sorry about that. I wasn't watching where I was going." He's unsure what to say next but before he can come up with something, you're giving him a quick thank you, and then disappearing into market.

He thinks about you that night. Wonders about you, as he stares at the bedroom ceiling. You obviously weren't well. Maybe he should have done more. It's his duty, isn't it? To Velaris? To care for it and its citizens, to protect them. Or at least, you. Do something to care for you, protect you.

He's not sure what to do, so he pushes the lingering questions from his mind.

And then the following week, he sees you at Rita's.

You're waiting tables, waltzing across the floor delivering drinks with a smile, the same one that slips away as soon as you're out of sight. Your shoulders slump as you stand at the corner of the bar, covering your mouth with your palm, yawning into it again and again.

Maybe he should do something, maybe you need a healer, maybe he could help-

No. He shouldn't. You probably wouldn't want him to, anyway. Right?

He shakes it off, tries to shake you off but can't stop himself from watching every step you take, trying to diagnose the problem.

It takes too long for it to click.

You're not sick, or clumsy.

You're exhausted, and it makes him irrationally angry, fills him with a need to drag you away from Rita's and tuck you up into a house somewhere, a place you'll never have to lift a finger again if you so choose. A place where you could be taken care of-

maybe even by him.

It takes him very little time to find the ramshackle duplex you live in on the outskirts of town, the roof too sloped, the wooden steps too rotted, the siding too loose.

It makes him uneasy, makes his skin crawl. Why are you here, in a place like this? Who has allowed this?

Why does a place like this even exist when Velaris has such wealth?

He begins to play a game, and at first, he tells himself it's to make himself feel better, that he's doing it for selfish reasons.

It's winter, and you don't have gloves, so he buys a pair and the shadows deposit them on your front step, and it makes the sick feeling in his stomach go away. For a few days.

When it returns, he buys you a hat, and this time, he delivers it himself, eager to see your reaction.

He doesn't expect to see the gloves still sitting on the porch, and he frowns. Did you not see them? Did you not like them? He leaves the hat at their side and lurks on the roof of the house across from yours, hiding in shadow, in wait.

The sun is still rising when you leave for your first job of the day, and you stop short at the sight of the hat. He perks up, expecting to see you relax with relief, or happiness, but is left confused when you hold the hat in your hands for a moment, reverently tracing the stitching, before dropping it back next to the gloves.

Why? You need these things. They're being given anonymously, alleviating some of awkwardness of accepting gifts, and he had hoped it would spare you from feelings of obligation or embarrassment. Perhaps you are too proud, he wonders, but shadows echo a different sentiment, one of distrust, of wariness.

The gifts scare you.

The guilt churns the bile in his stomach, and he flexes his fingers into fists before flying away, cursing himself the whole way home.

Idiot.

You're very surprised when he approaches you on your walk from the Palace to Rita's, so much so that you jerk to a dead stop, staring at him with your mouth dropped open as he tries to explain he has something to give you.

Yes, he knows you don't know him. Yes, he's aware how strange this is.

Yes, you will be taking this scarf whether you like it or not.

"I'm sorry?"

"This is for you." He extends the scarf towards you, holding his breath. Your eyes narrow.

"Have you been leaving things on my porch?"

"Yes." There's no point in lying. He's standing here trying to gift you a scarf, for Cauldron's sake.

"Why?" Your voice is tight, anxious, and he wishes there was a way he could reassure you without frightening you further.

"You needed them." It comes off as arrogant, but he doesn't care. He's getting to the point where he's past caring, where he's past watching you freeze and work yourself to the bone. His jaw is clenched so tight the muscles are straining, and it takes effort to steady his voice. "You're freezing."

"I-"

"I want you to have this." Just take it. The shadows skitter around him, trawling across the brick to where you stand, and you glance at them briefly, surprisingly unafraid, before looking back at him. He expects a fight, some kind of resistance, but it's all been bled dry. The only thing he sees is defeat, and it stings. You're suffering, you're suffering and he's got everything he could ever want, material wise, and then some. "Please," he murmurs, stepping forward, and you shake your head.

"I shouldn't."

"It's just a gift, I don't expect anything in return."

"You say that now." Your voice trembles. Anger cracks like lightning through his veins. Is this what you fear? A transaction? An exchange for help? There are only so many things one could want in a situation like this, and all of the them fill him with rage.

"I promise you," his voice is steel, firm and unrelenting, "I want nothing in return."

"You promise." It's not a question, and you won't meet his gaze, but he pushes on.

"I do." You reach for it hesitantly and wrap it around your neck, tucking your chin into the softly spun wool, cheeks lifting in a very small, shy smile. Good girl.

He chose perfectly. It complements your skin, your eyes, illuminates your already striking beauty.

"I... thank you. This is really nice. It's lovely." The shadows hum, and he secretly preens, the warmth in his chest spreading as you tell him your name.

"I'm Azriel," he says in return, and you nod.

"I know." You sigh, and look past him, down the street to where he knows your work awaits. "I have to go."

Or he could take you. It's tempting, so, so tempting. It's wicked, and rotten, but satisfying at the same time, and it soothes the reckless pieces of him calling out to you.

No. He shouldn't. He settles on a different course instead.

"I'll see you soon." Your brow furrows.

"You will?" He nods, spreading his wings, preparing to launch into the sky, pleased by how you marvel at them.

"And you'll wear both the gloves and hat when you're outside from now on." Your lips part with surprise. "Yes?" It takes a beat, and then two-

"Yes."

#aka sugar daddy Azriel and sugar baby reader but it's not sex based - mostly. okay a little I guess #peaches writes #azriel x reader #hope you're hungry #for nothing #unedited

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airaatsu · 2 days ago

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Hiii, I really loved your first fic!!! I was wondering if you could do another threesome request with se-mi again and dae-ho this time 🙈. my absolute faves

Could be with se-mi and reader already being a thing but her gf has a crush on cute little dae-ho. Flirting and teasing him throughout the games while se-mi watches her gf get what she wants.

Dae ho finally gets the pretty girl but doesn’t realize he has to share until he hears her whimper for her pretty gf to join them ;)

«—Se-mi x F!Reader x Dae-ho—»

⁍Sharing is Caring⁌

Summary: Se-mi notices how her girlfriend currently has a crush on Dae-ho. Instead of getting mad and jealous as you suspected she would, she encourages you to hang out with him. Things take a turn and the two of them end up sharing you. Dae-ho and Se-mi reaches an agreement. Se-mi loves seeing her girlfriend get everything she wants, after all, it's what you deserve;)

A/N: This request was in my inbox for like, 2 days? 😭 I'm sorry this took so long😭😭🏃‍♀️💨 Anyway, hope you guys would enjoy this‼️ I'll be working on another fic later, pray I won't get writer's block🥲 (I SUCK AT SUMMARIES🤕)

Warnings: NSFW, p in v, creampie, fingerfucking, handjob, SMUTTTTT

Se-mi leaned against one of the metal beds. Her gaze lingering on you a bit longer, watching you stare at someone from that man, Gi-hun's group. She continued to stare at you before she let out a sigh, when you didn't seem to notice, she sat down next to you and let out another louder sigh.

"What is it?" You murmured, sitting up straight as you faced her. "What do you mean." Se-mi looked away, resting her chin on the palm of her hand. "You've been sighing since earlier. What is it?"

"I don't know. Why were you staring so much at that guy." She questioned, glancing at the group you were staring at earlier. A small pout forming on her lips. You peeked at them over your shoulder before looking back Se-mi, raising a questioning brow at her. "Are you jealous?" You teased, smirking as you poked at her sides.

"No I'm not." She shot you a glare before her gaze softened, grabbing your hands to stop them from poking her. "Why don't you just talk to him? That guy- Dae-ho or whatever his name is." She stood. "Se-mi.. you're not mad?" You asked, stuffing your hands in your pockets. She scoffed,"Mad? Why would I be." She replied, flicking her finger on your nose. You giggled, playfully pushing her. "Maybe because we're in a relationship? And I'm having a crush on someone?" You stood up. Wrapping your arm around hers.

"I'm not mad at you, babe.. besides, I'm quite good at sharing." Se-mi leaned closer, placing a kiss on the corner of your lips before pulling back. "If you really want him, go for it. I don't mind sharing my princess, and it's better with him than those.." She glanced at the purple haired man across the room from them, with that friend of his that was also a drug addict. "Assholes.."

"What do you think, babe?" Se-mi smirked, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. You smiled, shaking your head. "Of course! Thank you!" You pulled her in a hug, peppering kisses on her face. Causing her to laugh at your sudden display of affection. "Alright, alright. Now go get pretty boy." She sighs, nudging you back into the direction of the group Dae-ho is in.

You and Dae-ho hit it off quite well. Perfect, really. He was such a cutie, a gentleman too. The way he blushed when you would tease and flirt with him even during the games was simply too adorable for you. The way he would look away and pull up the zipper of his jacket, causing the fabric to ride up and hide the lower half of his face whenever you teased him made you giggle. Right now, you were sitting beside him wuth his teammates. You listened to them talk and plan for the next game, but you couldn't help your attention being drawn to someone from across the room. Turning your head, you lock eyes with your girlfriend. Se-mi has been keeping her eyes on you ever since you approached Dae-ho. Watching the both of you converse, how your hand would linger on his arm a bit too long for it to be friendly. But she wasn't jealous, no, Se-mi could never be jealous because of that. Instead, she was enjoying the scene. It filled her with pride seeing how her princess could literally pull anyone without even trying much. The way Dae-ho looked at you was already a clear sign that you've already won his heart over with just a few touch and your sweet words. Whenever you giggled or laugh, Se-mi could see Dae-ho's eyes soften and a smile forming on his lips. Who could help it though? You're beautiful, she could see that, anyone and everyone could see that.

You didn't even know how you got here. Well, maybe you did.. making up an excuse to the guard and managing to sneak into the bathroom with Dae-ho in tow was something you thought would never happen. You were just going to tease him more, flirt with him, some subtle touches here and there. You never thought things would get too heated. But then it did. So here you are now, bent over one of the sinks. You're arms could barely hold yourself together, head dangling between your shoulders as Dae-ho's hips snapped against your own. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed in the empty bathroom save for you two. His left hand snaked from your hips to your neck, his hand wrapped around it, but he made sure it didn't hurt nor suffocate you. He pulled your head back gently, making you look at yourself in the mirror. Making you looked at your fucked out face, remnants of tear stains could be seen on your cheeks. You whimpered out his name, feeling his cock throb and twitch inside you. Dae-ho groaned into the nape of your neck, biting down on the sensitive skin, hard enough to leave a mark, but not enough to break skin. He gave your warm, gushing cunt one last sloppy thrust before you felt hot, thick liquid filling you up. Moaning out his name as you came around his cock, a white ring forming on the base of his dick while he continued to thrust in and out of you slowly, helping you come down from your high. He didn't even seem to notice the bathroom door open and close, not until you whimpered out a name.

"..Se-mi..!" You whimpered, your legs trembled, you would've collapsed on the floor if it wasn't for Dae-ho holding you by your hips. Keeping you steady. "Se-mi? Who.. why is she here?" Dae-ho whispered, glancing between you and at the newcomer. Confusion written all over his face. "Hm, you seem to be enjoying yourself, baby." Se-mi smiled, walking over to the two of you. She raised her hand, taking ahold of your chin, tilting it up a bit so you could look at her properly. "You can't even look at me properly, did pretty boy here fuck you that good?" She teased, using her thumb to wipe away the remnants of your tears on your cheeks. "What's happening here?" Dae-ho sounded super confused. His hips still connected to yours.

"Oh, did princess here not tell you?" Se-mi tore her eyes away from you and lands it on the man. "Tell me what?" Dae-ho questioned.

"That you're gonna have to share her." She replied, placing a kiss on the corner of your lips. "Like I shared her to you."

All three of your jackets were now laid on the floor. With you laying on your back on the fabrics. You moaned into Se-mi's mouth, legs wrapped around her hips, her fingers stuffed inside your cunt, Dae-ho's cum oozing out of your tight heat while she pumped her fingers in snd out of you, her thumb flicking over your oversensitive clit. Making your melt under her touch. Meanwhile, Dae-ho was thrusting into your fist. The two of them seemed to have reached an agreement, that the two of them shared you.

"Come on, baby, you can give me one more, hm?" Se-mi whispered so sweetly into your ear,"Pretty boy here looks close too, seems like your hand just feels that good." She smirked, burying her face into the crook of your neck. Nibbling and kissing your neck, leaving subtle marks on the sensitive skin. You didn't last much longer, not with how Dae-ho fucked you earlier, and now with Se-mi.. you were just too sensitive. You came around Se-mi's fingers, making a mess on her hand. Dae-hi didn't last much longer as well, that much you can tell, his cock twitched, spurting out ropes of warm cum on your face.

Now you were an absolute mess.. but you know you love it.

#airaa.writes #squid game x reader #se mi x reader #dae ho x reader #wlw #squid game 2

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solxamber · 3 days ago

Note

Heartslabyul, 1, Fluff

As a side note (This isn’t a second request I just got sudden brain worms!) all I can think about is Riddle with number six (I think?) with “Say that again” but like… As my mother with her violent hatred of Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas. She despises the song, and every year we reach a point where she band it until next Christmas. She prefers the Werewolf Boyfriend song. And now I’m imagining Riddle with ADuece playing it and him moments away from collaring them- I’m sorry if this was weird but now I’m trying not to die laughing while in a public place.

help?? that's so funny??? also your mom prefers the werewolf boyfriend song???? that's somehow funnier

A Kiss for Luck || Deuce Spade

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "Is that mistletoe?" ; Genre: Fluff

Deuce was, by all accounts, a terrible actor.

You’d noticed his plan from the moment the holiday party began. He’d linger by the mistletoe every chance he got, looking over at you and then away so quickly it was a miracle he didn’t give himself whiplash.

“Hey, um… I think the punch tastes better over here.” He tugged at his tie nervously, gesturing toward a suspiciously decorated corner.

You squinted at the punch bowl. “Deuce, that’s eggnog.”

He froze. “Oh. Uh… yeah. My bad.” He quickly turned on his heel, nearly tripping over Cater, who laughed as he breezed past with a knowing grin.

You decided to let him sweat a little. Watching Deuce stumble over himself trying to orchestrate the perfect holiday moment was endearing in a way only he could manage.

As the evening wore on, you kept catching him in your periphery—standing near mistletoe, adjusting his sleeves, glancing your way, and failing miserably to look casual. You’d purposefully steer yourself in the opposite direction, enjoying his increasingly flustered expressions.

Finally, though, you decided to put him out of his misery.

Deuce was leaning awkwardly against the wall beneath one particularly prominent sprig of mistletoe, trying his best to look like he wasn’t standing there on purpose. He lit up when he saw you approaching, standing straighter and smoothing down his jacket.

“Oh! Hey!” he said, a little too loudly. “I didn’t see you there.”

You tilted your head up, feigning surprise. “Is that mistletoe?”

Deuce’s face turned a shade of red so deep it rivaled Riddle’s hair. “Uh, yeah. I mean, it’s tradition, right? You don’t have to, uh, if you don’t want to, of course! I just thought—”

Before he could ramble himself into oblivion, you leaned up and kissed him. It was soft and sweet, and when you pulled back, Deuce’s eyes were wide as saucers.

“I wanted to,” you said simply, unable to hide your smile.

Deuce’s shoulders relaxed, his expression shifting from shocked to relieved, then to something softer—something that made your stomach flip in a way nothing else could.

“I’ve been trying all night to make this happen,” he admitted sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“I know.” You laughed, reaching up to fix his tie. “You’re not exactly subtle, Spade.”

His ears turned red, but he smiled—a boyish, bashful grin that made you feel warm despite the winter chill. “Guess I don’t have to be anymore.”

He took your hand then, holding it with the kind of care that made you feel like the most important person in the room.

And as the party bustled on around you, Deuce looked down at you, his shy confidence growing with every passing second. “So… can I kiss you again?”

This time, you didn’t make him work for it.

Masterlist

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #deuce spade x reader #deuce x reader #twst deuce #deuce spade #deuce #𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 holiday event

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mimiiis · 3 days ago

Text

Must Be Love Pt.1 — Regency Au! Price x Fem! Reader

summary: A general looking to marry for duty and a girl looking for a love match, what could go wrong?

warnings: n/a

work count: 5.9k

a/n: this was low-key supposed to be a small series of blurbs but I couldn't help myself, full on fic/series !! hope you guys enjoy </3

I’ve been rewatching Bridgerton and got to thinking…Regency!Price.

General John Price, who has come back to London during the marriage season to find himself a wife after deciding it was about time for him to do so. It just so happens to be that you are a new debutante, foisted out onto the marriage market and ready to be wed. 😚🤭

☆☆☆

The General had just recently returned to London, ready to marry and not hesitant to announce his intentions on what brought him back into the city. It was not long until everyone got the word that he was looking for a bride. Respectable men were not entirely few and far in the ton, but to find a truly accomplished man who came from a respected family was almost rare. Where most men were seen coming in and out of brothels almost daily , John Price was hardly seen indulging in such…pleasures. But in fairness, he was away from the watchful eyes of society for many periods of time, and no one knew much about him. With his return and new step into the marriage market, it is the first ball of the season that changed everything in his life.

The first ball was always so exciting, uncertainty of what the night may bring lurked at every corner of the room. Ladies practically flocked to him, their mamas right behind them as he struggled to fill out each dance card he was presented with. The general was more than polite, making his intentions clear and being his usually charming self. The ladies giggled and flirted, trying to impress him with their many accomplishments and the status of their families. He would simply nod and listen to them ramble with each passing dance. Though as the night drew on longer, the more he began to worry.

He hadn’t truly realized how hard it would be to properly court a woman in his position. He knew that as general he would not be with his wife for long, that he would be away longer than he would ever be with her. He saw no point in growing an attachment, inevitable heartbreak and hate would follow if he did. Every young lady he talked to seemed too eager, practically begging to be loved and adored. He knew he would have to find a wife willing to accept the conditions that awaited, someone he can establish a decent, or even good, relationship with. It did not hurt him to turn down several young ladies, he knew it was for the better. Yet somewhere, deep inside of his heart, he ached for the same kind of fondness they did.

☆☆☆

The ballroom erupted in a wave of applause and laughter as the dance finished, your chest heaving after performing the lively routine. The young lord you had entertained left with a bow, kissing your hand before leaving to go grab himself a cup of punch. You smiled at him, bidding him a good night before walking to your mama. Droplets of sweat formed at the corners of your hair, slowly falling down your skin as you tried to hide away behind your mother. She stood at the corner of the room, hidden away by a crowd of people who rushed by.

“What did you think of him? Lord Langley?” She asks you, handing you her fan as you plant your back against the wall. You quickly take it, opening it and blowing air in your direction as you finally took what felt like your first breath in hours. Your cheeks burned as your feet ached from dancing for so long. You could feel the boning of the corset digging into your skin as you slouched over slightly.

“He is kind. Rather handsy. Not an exact fit.” You breathe out, still winded as your mother placed a handkerchief against your forehead. “None of them will be, my dearest, if you keep holding them up to such an impossible standard.” She states, grabbing you by your shoulders as straightening your posture. You groan, letting her smooth out your crinkled skirts out and continue to wipe off the sweat from your brow.

“I know what I want and I will not hesitate to find it.” You argue back, pushing her hands away from you. You step back a few paces, giving yourself more room to breathe. You hadn’t considered how stuffy a ballroom might feel with more than half of the ton packed into a tight space. It almost made your head spin, a slight ache creeping up at the back of your head. Dread began to fill you at the impending headache, but you shook your head in an attempt to ignore it.

“You will spend a lifetime searching if you do not let it come naturally.” She tells you, shaking her head. You eye her, considering her words before you catch sight of a footman walking by. Your mother watches you reach for a glass of champagne from his tray, slapping your hands away the second you move them. You gasp, glaring at her as she dismisses the man away.

“That is not fair-“

“You can drink to your heart's content when you are married.” She argues, locking her arm in yours as she begins to pull you back into the eyes of society. So much for a few minutes to hide away. “You really must consider and think about a second plan. What will happen if you cannot find the love match you so desperately desire, hm? What then?”

You groan once more, embarrassment heating heating your cheeks. Her speech and the way she still talked to you as if you were a child sent a wave of shame over you. You wanted to crawl back into the corner of the room, to get away from her at any cost as she continued to scold you for having “such impossible standards.” But you cannot, not after you spent so long convincing her to even allow you to have a say in who you married. She gives you an inch, might as well take a mile.

“There is no second plan. I will get what I want, no matter how long it takes me.” You stubbornly reply, voice in a hushed whisper as you politely smile at other young ladies passing by. “What is so hard about finding a love match anyways? Is it simply not the process of meeting someone and just knowing? That is how you described what happened to you with father, I will not settle for anything less.”

“It is…much more than just that.” She repeats the same words she always has, never elaborating further. For the woman meant to help you through the marriage season, she was certainly not helpful. You glance at her for a second, the usual disappointment filling you. You start to search the dance floor for a man to sweep you back up into the crowd. Anything to get away from her right now. You watch as all the lords and men you had previously danced with talk and laugh amongst themselves or other young ladies, your own friends being taken up with suitors or being pulled to one by their mamas. It was a never ending sea of controlled chaos, dresses swishing and feet stomping as the sea of dancing color passed you.

“Where is Johnny?” Your mother suddenly asks. The arm she had locked with your slips away and rises to your shoulder, helping her balance as she begins to stand on her tiptoes, looking over the crowd around you two. “Shall he really miss your first ball?” Her brows furrow, scanning every corner of the room before falling back onto her heels. You shake your shoulder, brushing her hand off of you as the topic of your brother sours your mood. “I do not think Jonny cares about the affairs of young ladies.”

“Do not be so negative, he is your brother-“

“And he still does not care.” You say with a bite in your tone, making your mother furrow her brows, but you only continue you scan the room for a way out of her grasp.

It took a few seconds, but you finally caught sight of a man one of your friends said was serious about his courtship this year. “Besides, he need not bother himself with my business unless a suitor is asking for my hand, yes?” You flash her a faux smile as you slowly begin to pull away from her side. “I am going to get a glass of punch, I will be back.” You told her before hurriedly walking and escaping between the cracks of the surrounding crowd to get away from her. You walked as fast as you could without raising any alarm to others, her shouts and protests falling on deaf ears as you managed a good distance between the two of you. You were able to get across the dance floor and near the table of desserts, not stopping until you found a rather hidden corner to further disappear into.

You sigh and giggle to yourself as you look back, making sure she was not following and in fact far from you. A smile creeps up onto your lips as you watch her try to carefully push through the crowd. She excuses herself, getting stopped by other Ladies and Mamas on her way towards you. Frustrating builds on her face, eyes glancing every second back to you as she is forced to make small talk. A giggle leaves your lips as you watch the aftermath of your small victory. You straighten your shoulders and hold your head high as you walk backwards, keeping an eye and planning on disappearing from her view when she looks away once more. But the moment is short lived as you suddenly bump into someone.

Your back crashes into an elbow, the bone hitting between your shoulder blades and causing you to groan at the sudden pain, back going stiff and straight as a slight ache begins to spread throughout. You yelp, whipping your body around and groaning at the discomfort the swift movement caused. You begin to stutter out apologies, explaining how you didn’t know where you were, how you weren’t looking and all sorts of nonsense without even looking at who you were speaking to. The words jumbled together into a string of incoherent mumbles, but your mouth stops when you finally look up. Your body freezes, mouth falling into a small ‘o’ as you look at the man before you. It's strange, you would assume to find a frown and displeased face looking at you. But to your surprise, the man seems to give you the kindest smile, and breathes out the softest of laughs.

Your eyes meet his, and you can't recall ever having seen someone look at you so… fondly? He was tall, a strong and fit body, shoulders stiff and broad as the deep red of his suit makes him look all the more alluring. His hair was brushed back though it still appeared as a soft mess when paired with the beard he sported. You had never put much thought into what you would think a real man would be like, but good god, if he was not it. You continue to study him, practically entranced by the way he looks, until you see his lips begin to part in question and quickly snap out your thoughts, shaking your head and closing your still slightly agape mouth. “Apologies, Sir, I truly did not see you.” You bow your head slightly and part your eyes from his.

He smiles and replies, “It is quite alright, Miss.” His voice was deep and gruff, the sound made your knees want to buckle. “Are you hurt? I myself must apologize for not having seen you either,” he looks at you with worry, remembering how harshly you bumped into him. “Ah!” You exclaim, suddenly feeling a slight discomfort between your shoulders but quickly dismissing it. “I’m simply a bit shaken, that’s all. Though I must ask if I did not hurt you either, my lord..?” Your voice drifts off in question, waiting for the man to introduce himself.

The sound of the title has him letting out a small huff of a laugh,“I am not a lord, Miss, but a general. General John Price, Miss. Mr.Price would do just fine if you do not mind,” He replies with a small shake of his head and a hint of amusement in his voice. Embarrassment immediately fills you as his words process in your head. Your cheeks heat and eyes widen and the urge to crawl into the deepest hole you can find consumes you as more apologies spill from your lips. “I-I’m sorry I didn't mean to-! It is just that so many of the men present here are lords and the title has become a natural response to say to any man I speak to that I-agh!” You stutter and ramble on again, but soon stop yourself from further embarrassment by placing a hand on your awfully loud mouth. “I must stop.” Your eyes look away from what you expect to be a judgemental or annoyed gaze this time, but when you glance back up, it is still neither of those.

“I must admit I had grown rather tired of not being able to get away from you young ladies this evening, but out of all I have spoken to today, you seem to be the most amusing.” He jokes, that laugh of his loud and brighter than before. The sound makes you relax and a sense of comfort washes over you. The rest of the world seems to drown in the sound and sight of him. A man with a large presence and contagious energy, how had you not seen him? You watch the way his chest rises and falls in his chuckles and how he slightly throws his head back with each “hah”. Before you know it, your hand is falling from your mouth.

“Oh, is that so? I must say the same for the men, you all are at every corner and yet I haven’t found a single one worthy of a good conversation.” You joke back, a playful smirk making its way onto your lips. His smile widens at your comment and the same spark of mischief in your eye ignites in his.

“Truly? Have they all been so boring?”

“Terribly so, I could not even last a minute speaking to them.”

“I must apologize for my fellow men then, for they do not seem up to the challenge of courtship.”

You giggle at his words, he chuckles in return. “Of that you are right, Sir. In fact, I do not think I’ve ever wished for interesting company to arrive so much as now.” You jest.

“It seems we are both in luck then. For here I am with you. And you, with me.” The humorous tone of his voice drifts into one of sincerity, flirtatiousness. The hair at the back of your neck rises and your back straightens at the shift in mood. You gulp, feeling his eyes on you, looking at you– truly looking at you now. “Here we are.”

Your eyes meet once more, only neither of you look away or speak this time. You’ve had to look into the eyes of many men this evening, and you’ve found the saying of the eyes being windows to a person's soul to be true. You could tell when a man only wanted a marriage for money or influence, how they felt about the young lady they were dancing with, who they truly wanted and set their sights on even with a glance. And the way he looked at you, oh it scared you. You can’t recall someone ever looking at you like this. It made your breath catch, heart race, and wonder if the truth in his eyes was not a lie. There was a glint of light in the blue of his eyes, and you realize the look he’s giving you. Almost as if you amuse him, as if he likes you. And you find yourself feeling the same.

It’s as if the realization dawned on both of you at the same time, the mutual attraction, for a comfortable silence soon followed. You both continue to stare, smiling as the two of you seem to breathe in time together. Waiting…Waiting to ask or be asked the same question. Will you dance with me?

You wanted this to happen, it is what you were looking for. To feel that click, the instant gravitation to one person in a sea of people, and it was here. Standing right in front of you– only you were not prepared for how it would feel. You wanted to revel in it, shout at the top of your lungs ‘I told you I could!’ to your mother and friends who said you that what you wanted was impossible. Here, in front of you, the moment you’ve waited for. All that was left was for either of you to seal it, to grab each other's hand and spend the night talking, to form a proper and real courtship. The possibility made your heart flutter, though only off of a feeling and small conversation, you think you found what you were looking for. But you could only have peace for so long. A hand suddenly wraps itself around your arm and pulls your attention away from the man in front of you. Your damned mother. “General Price, how nice it is to see you!” The woman exclaims in surprise, her arm yanking your body behind her and away from him. ‘You were being improper’ she would later say. The General’s eyes widen at the sudden interruption, but he is quick to compose himself with a smile and nod of his head. “My lady,” he greets her.

“I see you have met my daughter, I do hope she has not been bothersome, she has a rather… colorful personality!” Your mother snides, a false laugh falling from her lips as you roll your eyes.

“Of course not, she and I were having a rather enjoyable conversation.” He replies, eyes drifting to yours. You let out a weary smile, facial expression screaming “I am sorry!” as best as you could. His gaze softens at you in understanding before in looking back to your mother and further exchanging formalities with her. How are you, where have you been, and other such things they discuss before it is cut to a quick end by the woman.

“It has been a pleasure to see you again, good Sir, but I am afraid it is time for my daughter and I to retire. I do hope we will see you again.” She smiles, looking your way to give you a stern look, ‘let’s go’ she seems to say. You nod lightly, watching as they exchange goodbyes before your mother leaves to fetch the carriage.

You watch her go and before long the two of you are alone again, standing in a rather awkward air after your mother had interrupted your previous conversation. Neither you say anything, trying to find the words as your feet shuffle in tune with that of the music. You play with your fingers, pulling and twisting at them, unsure of what to say before seeing the man open his mouth.

“For how short it was, I did enjoy our talk.” He says sincerely.

You grin, cheeks heating at the simple words. “I do hope you choose to call.” You nod your head politely, watching him do the same before walking away. Butterflies swirl in your stomach, eyes widening in shock the second your back is turned to him. Your first day, your first night and ball as a debutant, and you think you may have found a man you would like to marry. Foolish wishing, others would tell you if they knew you thought this. So you never shared it. You would not whisper it to a soul, but keep it inside a pocket of your heart only to be spoken until the wish comes true.

It is not long until you are on your way back home, sitting across from your mother in your carriage. The street lights illuminate the carriage as you pass through town, the fabric of your dress shining as you play the flimsy material along your thighs. You yawn, sleeping creeping and taking over you from the change of chaos to quiet tranquility. You’re slouching forward, the ache in your back growing and not letting you sit straight.

Your mother scolded you, but laughed, when you told her why it hurt to do so. You rolled your eyes before looking out the window and thinking of Mr. Price. You wanted to ask your mother how they knew each other, why she pulled you away so quickly, what she thought of him. But you spoke not, shaking the thoughts out of your head and happy enough with the idea that you will see him again tomorrow. A love match to be made.

☆☆

General John Price tiredly makes his way to the far end of White’s furnished bar. The club had a signature smell of tobacco and thick wood polish, smoke and cups of brandy filled his vision in a stark contrast to the flowery and bright ballroom he had just made his way from. To be fair, he did not want to come here so late in the night, but an old friend invited him and the man was not one to break a promise. He approached a group of men at a far back table, all talking over a game of cards with several cups half full and empty scattered across the table. John made his way towards the chair on the farthest end, giving the man who sat in it a good strong pat.

“Johnny boy!” He greets. The man in the chair looks back, jumping in surprise before a wide smile appears as he realizes who is in front of him.

“Price! I dinnae think you’d come, old man.” The man, Johnny, exclaims before standing to properly shake and give the General a hug. They share a laugh and exchange pleasantries before Johnny introduces him to the other Lords who he was previously talking to. Price recognized a few from the ball, he had wondered where they had wandered off so early.

“I assume yer awfully tired from havin’ many young girls stepping on yer toes tonight, aye?” Johnny jokes, leading Price away from the group and to the bar. He orders them a whiskey each, the glasses clinking as they share a toast to the older man’s coming back to town. Price shakes his head lightly, “I will admit that I underestimated just how…draining this prospect would be.” John sighs, downing the glass in front of him with one gulp. He plays with the rim of his glass and watches the remaining drops swirl in the dim light of the room, he thinks of how many young ladies there were and it was only the first night. Each was as pretty and delicate as a flower, bright smiles and rosy cheeks but altogether, desperate and grasping onto any man who looked their way. Though he could not blame them, it was what they were born and raised to do, it was all they knew to do.

“Exactly why I haven’t taken on the task myself. Yer stronger than I’ll ever be Cap’in,” Johnny chuckles, taking a sip from his own glass. “Did you meet a lass you might set your sights on?” The younger man grins, nudging the elder as he notices his eyes drifting down in thought at the question.

“I found a Miss I am to call on tomorrow. She seems agreeable, timid but with a sense of humour and not as” he pauses to find the right word, “eager as the other ladies. Though her mother stepped in before I could invite her for a dance. Does not matter, we have a whole season to talk and dance and do what people do in courtship. If all goes well, I may have a wife soon.” Price says, going back to fidgeting with his glass. As he looks at it though, he can't help but think about the girl. From the way they met, to her mannerisms, she truly did intrigue him. Only now that he looked back on their interactions does he feel as if he forgot something. He moves the glass back and forth, watching the light seep through and glimmer– trying to remember something important he has forgotten but cannot seem to place.

“A Mrs.Price, at last!” Johnny exclaims, Price rolls his eyes. “And do tell, my dear friend, what is her name?”

John freezes at the words. His eyes widened and head rising in a swift motion. He stares at Johnny, shock and realization written all over. That’s what he forgot. Johnny catches on immediately, eyes widening with his friends.

“Dinnae tell me…”

“I did not catch it.”

The men look at each other a second longer before Johnny begins to shake his head. “Now how in the hell do ye forget to ask a lass her name, John? You’re the general, for christ sakes, aren’t ye supposed to have a strategic battle plan for everything ye do?” He lets out a dramatic sigh, brows furrowing and going to rub his temples in disappointment. Price slouches and rubs his eyes with his palms, trying to wipe away the fog of his mind.

“I figured I did not need to ask as I knew her mother, she was an old family friend. It has just occurred to me I never knew who she married. The girl and I met in a rather odd situation as well, I didn't even have time to ask her.”

Johnny slowly chuckles in disbelief at his words, “That poor girl is going to be truly devastated when you don’t show up tomorrow morning.”

“Mactavish,” John says his name sternly, eyeing the younger man in warning.

Johnny holds his hands up in surrender, before grabbing his unfinished glass of whiskey and downing the remaining contents. The men sit together in silence, waiting and thinking for a kind of solution to help with the unfortunate circumstance.

“I tell ye what,” Johnny interrupts after a few moments, “My sister, she’s in her first year as a debutante and friends with almost half of the lassies in Mayfair. Come over in the morning, and I believe we can ask for her help identifying your bonnie, aye?”

The proposal interested John enough to consider it, to think of how it would play out. “She would not mind?”

“Nay, all I’ve got to do is tell her yer a friend, that’ll put you off as a potential suitor and help yer little predicament.” Johnny grins, with teeth, for having thought of the idea. In all fairness, it was not the best or brightest plan, but who is John Price, a General of the British Armies to say no to a friend simply trying to help him.

☆☆☆

You awake at the crack of dawn, a giddy and anxious feeling bubbling in the pit of your belly from the second you opened your eyes. It was with you the whole morning– as your maid helped you dress, as you ate breakfast, as you talked to your mother and brother of what bachelors you predict may come to call.

“Lord Harding was quite taken with you last night, my dear. As well as Lord Langley and even Mr. Anderson, their mothers and I spoke of what a handsome match you would be with either of them. They are agreeable men, are they not Johnny?” Your mother says, sitting across from you on a plush settee and drinking a cup of tea. Johnny, who was sitting in the chair nearest to the window and farthest from you replies with a nod. “Aye, though Anderson’s got a taste for losing a pretty sum every time he’s at the club.” He comments, looking out the window as if waiting for something. Your mother lets out a small ‘ah’ and nods her head at the information. You roll your eyes and manage to bite your tongue. It was too exciting of a day to waste your energy bickering with him.

“I talked to another gentleman as well last night.” You share instead. Johnny turns his head toward you, slightly tilted in questions.

“Aye, did ye?” Johnny questions you, doubt in his voice. He looks back out the window when the noise of a carriage passes by– not even bothering to hear your answer. “Yes, I did. He was kind, kinder than the other men I talked to all night.” You reply, brows furrowing and staring daggers at him. “Oh please, darling, I hardly doubt he’d come today. You did not share a dance, or even speak for that long.” Your mother says, making you slightly frown and look to her.

“Perhaps after your next meeting he shall come to see you. And does he not seem a bit older to you? Would you not prefer a younger man, closer to your age? Remember, we have the whole of the season to find you a match, my love. Try not to think of him and focus on the men who do come today, yes?” You sigh, fighting your frown from deepening at her words. You try to slouch in your corset (which was pulled tighter today) to help the still aching injury on your back. Your mother catches you and lets out a ‘tsk’, a reminder that she is watching your every move. You almost start to argue with her, already upset and bothered. Your mouth opens and brows furrow but are interrupted before you can get any words out.

‘Excuse me,” Johnny suddenly coughs. “But it appears as if we already have guests.” He slowly stands from his chair and makes his way to sit next to your mother. They would be your chaperones for the evening and any other event for the season. You know that he would rather not be here, but your mother had to remind him of his duty. To you, and to the family.

“How exciting! Now remember,” Your mother exclaims before assessing you with her eyes, “smile, be kind, and do not push too hard on the whole…love match aspect. We want our guests to feel welcome and to get to know them, yes?” You nod obediently, not minding her words. Such control, the woman wanted. From your hair to your shoes and dress, she tried her best to dress and present you as a pretty doll. “Yes, mother.” You nod once more, your lip forming into a thin line of a smile as you manage to sit up straight and mentally ready yourself.

Many suitors came to call, the room filling with men and the sound of laughter as the day went on. They brought you flowers, boxes of chocolate, and some even went as far as bringing you a pair of earrings with your favorite jewels. The room was filled with gifts and men by noon, the energy and rushing making you grow weary by the third gentleman caller. It was strange, having so many eyes on you and being the center of attention. To have men try to entertain you with their small talk and aspirations in marriage and life, hoping you’d pick and entertain them back.

Through it all, you kept thinking of Mr.Price. In the few minutes you spoke together, it did not feel like this at all. You wondered if it would be the same in your next meeting, if you would be tense or if he would be as welcoming as before. Every time a suitor left or came, you looked toward the door for any sight of him. You wanted to sight in disappointment each time you did not see him. The ache in your back only reminded you of him furthermore which each movement you made, his presence there even if he wasn’t.

The whole of the morning felt so unnatural. Saying all the practiced and calculated responses your mother taught you, not like you at all. Even watching her speak to the callers, seeing her smile and compliment you so kindly felt like you were a part of some grand facade and did not know your role in it. As exciting as it was, it was also quite terrifying. The mountain of expectations was a weight you could not shake off of your shoulders.

It was strange to think, but to find any kind of normality throughout it all, you looked to Johnny. He sat at the window seat again, glancing over to watch you and your mother every few seconds, just as before. His presence grounded you, even if distant. While your mother put on an act, he was still himself. Your distant, kind but irritating, brother.

You were in the middle of speaking to your mother's preferred suitor, Lord Harding, when you saw Johnny rise from his seat and excuse himself from the room. Your eyes follow him, and you can’t help but feel a small sense of disappointment and sadness watching him go. Of course he wouldn’t stay. You thought to yourself, but quickly shake the thought from your head and continue your conversation with the man beside you.

“The gardens in my family home are quite beautiful, each rose bush having been planted and cared for since the start of my family's lineage. My mother hopes to host a ball near the end of the season, I hope I am able to show them to you soon.” The man says to you, his voice sincere and kind.The gentleman was kind and respectful, young and handsome with a sort of boyish charm that made talking to him a bit easier than the other callers. “I would be most delighted to.” You reply with a smile, ready to ask him more about his family home when you see your brother walk back into the room from the corner of your eye. You hadn’t expected him to come back, much less with a guest. You move your body slightly, turning to see who it was he came back with.

What you saw next, you did not expect.The sight shocks you. Your eyes widen, a gasp leaves you, and your heart almost leaps out of your chest when you realize who was with your brother. Your mother, who has been sitting across from you, follows your line of sight. Her eyes widen slightly as well, before a sigh leaves her lips.

Johnny’s guest locked eyes on you the second he stepped in the room.

“Mr.Price.” The name leaves your mouth before you can even think.

“Miss…Mactavish.” He looks just as shocked as you were. His eyes widen, but the same soft smile from last night makes its way upon his lips.

“What?” Johnny cuts in. You both look towards him the second he speaks. Confused, and almost upset, Johnny's eyes meet yours. You open your mouth, ready to explain, but he only looks back to the man at the door.

Now, you have seen him upset a handful of times, but in those times you knew what to do. Knew what to say, knew when to walk away. But looking at him look at Price, all you could do was hold your breath.

Oh hell.

Thank you for reading </3!! Comments and reblogs are v much appreciated! If you have any insights please leave them kindly!!

A/n: This chapter was meant to be a bit silly, but im not sure if i was able to do it that well🥲 Also my first time writing a Scottish accent for Johnny! Apologies if i got anything wrong. More to come soon and I hope you all enjoyed 🩵💖!!

#☾☼mims writes #regency!141 #regency au #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic #tf 141 x reader #141 x reader #john price x y/n #john price fanfiction #bridgerton au #regency!price #my writing #fan fic writing #fanfiction

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irisintheafterglow · 2 days ago

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a snowball collides with the glass doors leading to the backyard of the rental house, a dull thunk the only disturbance to your afternoon peace. you hear an apologetic sorry, babe! from a familiar figure bundled in a black coat, gloves, and red hat.

"was that a snowball or a bear?" tsukki grumbles from the other side of the huge L-shaped couch. his forearm is thrown over his eyes, glasses abandoned on the nearest side table. until a minute ago, he was actually able to get a little bit of rest after the boys in his room were talking nonsense until three in the morning.

"snowball, though it might as well been thrown by a bear. volleyball players and your arms and such," you reply without looking up from your book. tsukki grunts in assent and you fall back into a comfortable silence.

besides the occasional screams of triumph from the boys brawling with snowballs outside, your surroundings are serenely calm. since you woke up, a continuous powdering of snow fell on the trees, the roof, and the outside deck. with the more energetic boys declaring war on each other via snowballs, you and the calmer holiday-goers decided to make hot chocolate and watch the time creep by.

"i finally found it," akaashi announces as he returns to the living room, holding up the book he'd been digging around his bag for. "it was buried under bokuto's ungodly amount of socks."

"you sure it wasn't a few of your socks as well, considering how you've begun sharing clothing?" your eyebrows raise in amusement at the hoodie that was definitely not his, loudly printed with a huge owl with glowing yellow eyes. akaashi tended to wear more subdued clothing (and never such a large print), so there was only one other inhabitant of the house that could own the sweater...

"look at the pot calling the kettle black. at least mine doesn't have his name labeled on the sleeve," he fires back teasingly. you concede the battle with a defeated shake of your head. you're indeed wearing a crewneck that isn't yours, curled up in your cushioned corner and surrounded by a heinous amount of throw pillows. the sweatshirt is a washed out crimson, adorned with a single silhouette of a black cat and a label on the back that reads 'property of nekoma volleyball club.' the captain's name and number is embroidered on the right sleeve, a customized early christmas present that ended up being a gift for yourself. "it even says you're nekoma property on the back."

"i am no one's property, and he'll be the first to tell you that," you correct and akaashi shrugs before settling next to you on the couch. "trade me that when you're done with it?" you ask, nodding to the book in his hands, a stray fast food receipt barely marking a tenth of the way in.

"if i get done with it," he scowls. "the main characters are burning so slow, i'm gonna be fifty by the time they hold hands."

"and i will be decaying in a casket by the time i achieve peace and quiet." tsukki's voice comes out as a deadpanned grumble and you share a guilty look with akaashi, poorly hiding your smiles. "finally some quiet..."

his declaration of serenity is cut short by the sliding door abruptly being thrown open, and the participants in the snowball war piling back inside.

"guess who won the greatest fight since the trash battle!" the third year setter from karasuno, sugawara, stomps into the cabin while the rest of his teammates cheer and boast of their victory. they overrun the kitchen and fight over the last mugs of hot chocolate, scavenging for fistfuls of mini marshmallows.

"totally unfair, bokuto kept switching sides," lev grumbled while shaking the snow from his boots. "he was playing for us and then jumped ship."

"it's not my fault they were getting beaten so badly in the beginning," bokuto shrugs with his palms up in surrender. "i consider my presence an attempt to fix the playing field, not an advantage." you scooch closer to the armrest as bokuto joins akaashi on the couch, draping an arm around his shoulders with practiced ease.

"it's barely an advantage when you and hinata alone could have been your own team," konoha points out. you tune out the rest of the boys' bickering, a grin growing on your face once the very last volleyball player re-enters the cabin. he tosses his hair from side to side and particles of snow fly off like cat hair before finding you.

"hey beautiful," tetsurou murmurs, leaning over the side of the couch to plant a kiss on your cheek. his face is freezing in stark contrast to the warmth radiating from the fire. "miss me?"

"terribly," you reply, nudging your nose against his. there were still tiny snowflakes on his nose bridge and you brush them off with your sleeve. "heard you got your ass kicked in a snowball fight."

"it was a draw," he dodges and you chuckle. "i like that sweater on you."

"yeah, my boyfriend's a captain," you not-so-humbly brag and his smile grows wider. you'd never seen someone's eyes sparkle before you met him. "he's pretty hot, too. even after spending an hour in the snow."

"he sounds like a pretty great guy." he leans in to kiss you properly but is suddenly yanked away by another resident of the house.

"stop being cute, i wanna play uno!" bokuto booms, dragging your boyfriend to the game cabinet so he can reach the top-most shelf.

"can we put stakes on it? makes it more fun." noya practically bounces off the leather couch ottoman, a mug of hot chocolate steaming in his hand.

"losers have to cold-plunge in the lake," tsukki suggests, unblinking, with an evil glint in his eye.

"shoyo would probably die, i think," a mortified yamaguchi responds. that's the point, tsukki's face explains wordlessly.

"what about losers have to make dinner?"

"well that's not fair, because crows would be making dinner two nights in a row," akaashi innocently points out, but the jab is not lost on any of you. "yeah, i do think i can beat daichi--"

"this game seems a little too aggressive for me," asahi mutters. "can i team with the other third-years?"

"that's not how uno works, my friend. no mercy for anyone," sugawara says, patting his fellow crow sympathetically on the shoulder. "not even kageyama, who i don't think has ever played this game."

"who the hell said i needed mercy?"

"winning players get the master suite," your boyfriend decides with an expression that the others didn't dare contest. "for the rest of the trip." that sends a noticeable ripple of excitement through the players, the raised stakes pinning the bullseye on their competitive natures. you raise your eyebrows in amusement and tetsurou's eyes darken in a look that you know all too well.

he desired total victory, and he didn't play when it came to you.

#kuroo x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo x y/n #kuroo tetsurou x you #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #hq x you #hq x reader #hq x y/n #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #kuroo fluff

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woozinhos · 2 days ago

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Hiii i loved the story you wrote with vernon (both idols), so I wanted to ask if you kinda could write a similar story but with hoshi? But maybe this time hoshi and the reader get caught in the backgro making out or smt? I yk how svt films “inside seventeen” dance practice, so maybe in the background there? Im sorry im bad at this it’s my first time requesting something. Ofc you can write however you want. 🫶🫶

I decided to make this a going seventeen episode and a little funny hehe enjoyyy :D

It's the middle of a filming session for "Going Seventeen," and you're backstage with Hoshi. You're both supposed to be watching the other members perform their scenes, but you can't help but get a little distracted. Hoshi pulls you into a secluded corner, away from prying eyes and cameras. He pushes you against the wall, his body pressed against yours as he captures your lips in a heated kiss. You moan into his mouth, your hands tangling in his hair as you return the kiss with equal fervor.

You can hear the other members laughing and chatting in the distance, but you don't care. All that matters is the feeling of Hoshi's body against yours, the way his tongue is exploring your mouth, and the way his hands are roaming over your body. Hoshi's hands slide down to your hips, pulling you closer to him as he deepens the kiss. He breaks away from your lips, trailing a line of kisses down your jawline and onto your neck. He nips at the sensitive skin, leaving a mark that you'll have to hide later.

"I'm so glad you came on set today," Hoshi murmurs against your skin, his breath hot against your neck. "I've been wanting to get my hands on you all day."

He sucks on your neck, his teeth scraping against the skin as he leaves another mark.

"You're driving me crazy," he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "I can't wait to take you home and have you all to myself."

As Hoshi continues to mark your neck, the sounds of DK and Mingyu's laughter and chatter grows louder. But you're too caught up in the moment to notice, your body too focused on the way Hoshi is making you feel. It's not until DK clears his throat loudly that you both finally break apart, your eyes widening in shock as you realize you've been caught.

Hoshi's eyes dart towards the camera, and he freezes, a look of panic on his face. DK and Mingyu are both standing there, watching you and Hoshi with grins on their faces. The camera man behind them is looking at the two of you with a smirk, clearly having captured everything on film. Hoshi quickly steps away from you, trying to regain his composure.

"This isn't what it looks like," he says, his voice a bit too high-pitched to be believable.

DK and Mingyu just laugh, clearly enjoying the fact that they've caught you two in the act.

"Really?" Mingyu says, raising an eyebrow. "Because it looks like you were making out with your girlfriend in the middle of a filming session."

Hoshi runs a hand through his hair, clearly flustered and embarrassed.

"We were just...taking a break," he tries to explain, but even he knows it sounds weak.

DK grins and slaps Hoshi on the back.

"Sure, you were," he says, winking at you. "And I'm sure that 'break' involved a lot more than just kissing."

The camera man coughs speaking up. “We won’t be uploading this we’ll have to cut this from the episode,”

The camera man's words are a bit of a relief, but they also bring a new wave of panic. If the footage can't be used in the episode, that means the company will have to delete it. Which means it will never see the light of day...but also means you and Hoshi won't be able to get away with your secret relationship anymore.

#kpop fanfic #kpop smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen #svt smut #hoshi svt #hoshi smut #seventeen hoshi #hoshi #soonyoung imagines #soonyoung smut #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung scenarios #soonyoung fanfic #seventeen soonyoung #kwon soonyoung

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cl-01-kestis · 2 days ago

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Blood and Honey - Tom Riddle x Female Reader | Part 2

Summary: After a week of avoidance and contemplation, you finally come face to face with Tom during Slughorn’s Christmas party. Tension runs high, you swear you hate him, but he’s too addictive to resist.

Warnings: heavy romantic tones, enemies to lovers, cat calling, premarital sex, alcohol, fingering, oral (f!receiving), PiV, Tom is not effected by Amortentia in this AU (everyone is over 18)

BOOMSHAKALAKA

If your mother happened to know that you’d done in the medical ward the week prior, she would have a stroke, or at least a heart attack. If there’s one thing your muggle parents always taught you never to do, it was premarital physical relations. It was the 1940’s, sex after marriage was the done thing, but it was a bit different in the wizarding world.

Some students at Hogwarts engaged in thrilling affairs in the school bathrooms or their common rooms when no one else was around, but you never considered it until your endeavours with Tom in the infirmary.

You were thinking about him all week, every day, every hour. You avoided corridors he walked through just so he wouldn’t see you. You’d been avoiding class, studying in your dorm and in hidden corners of the library. One of your friends was a prefect for Ravenclaw, so sometimes you crashed her classes and used the prefect common room as well.

Tom noticed all this from afar.

Your avoidance from him made him curious, but inside he was amused. He found your denial of the situation rather interesting, wondering if you still felt any resentment towards him after what happened. To him, he expected you to pull back. He done things to you no man has ever done, you didn’t know how else to react.

You once sat in class together since it happened, both at other sides of the classroom, but the tension was thick and you felt a hot buzz between your thighs the entire lesson. It was hard concentrating on the subject the professor was teaching when you felt Toms eyes on you the entire time. Safe to say you were the first one who left when class ended.

Today, you had to attend charms class after being warned by one of your professors, knowing your attendance would drop if you continued missing out. So begrudgingly, you took your seat as the first student in class and waited nervously for the others to flood in.

You were sitting at the back of class in your usual seat, scribbling down the topic for today and preparing yourself for the lesson when you noticed him walk in.

Tom was laughing with one of his friends, Avery, who always seemed to get on your nerves. The black haired Slytherin didn’t even notice you at the back of class as he took his seat at the front, making room for Avery as the two opened their satchels and took out their jotters.

You looked away from him quickly, already feeling nauseous as you chewed the tip of your pencil. Others came in a short while afterwards and all took their seats, ready for the lesson.

Your professor started the lecture off by asking the class questions to check their knowledge about advanced charms, he bounced about the class until he eventually asked you a question about the Homorphus charm. You answered confidently, but the sound of your voice rattled Tom’s brain out of boredom. He turned his head, eyes wide with surprise as they settled on your figure at the back of the classroom. Your eyes connected for a brief second, but a sharp jolt of electricity flowed through your veins when you saw the way he looked at you.

Tom turned back around in his seat and suppressed a smile, not a smirk, but a relieved smile. He was glad you were back in class, he didn’t want to be the reason you stopped attending and cause a bad grade.

But Tom noticed the heavy blush adorning your cheeks, the dark hue giving away your embarrassment. He turned his attention back to the professor, hiding an amused smirk.

You scurried out of class clutching your jotters and textbooks, red in the face as you targeted the library for some privacy. The air thickened with uneasy tension after Tom noticed your attendance, you felt sweat on your back and in your palms just at the thought. You pulled open the library doors, making sure it shut behind you before you continued forward.

You walked into a random isle and leaned against the books, exhaling loudly but thankfully no one was around to hush you. You were so on edge, but you weren’t entirely sure if it was a good or bad thing. On one hand, you had to face Tom again at some point after what happened, but on the other hand it was absolutely terrifying. Your body trembled and behind your eyes flashed the memories of what he did to you.

You looked down at your legs, closing your eyes as you remembered his tongue against your wounded thigh, the way his eyes darkened as his tongue caught your blood. Your grip tightened on your textbooks as you recalled his lips against your most intimate areas, his teeth constantly nipping at you as if he was memorising your taste.

A frustrated sigh left your chapped lips as you pulled up a chair at a free study desk just by the window, opening up a random book and forcing yourself to read the contents. Yet nothing could stop your thoughts pushing their way to your attention, you could practically feel his hot breath on you as you covered your face with your hands.

The memory of him stained your soul, the way he made you feel so vulnerable and defenceless against the hospital bed. He had you in his grip in those moments, making you come undone with just his tongue and fingers, it hurt your ego.

You’d admittedly touched yourself countless times after, trying to match the same orgasms he gave you, but nothing ever worked. The only thing that gave you a brief release was your pillow, but even that was rare due to the other girls in your dorm.

Someone abruptly broke you out of your endless trance, your own friend Samantha, who shared potions class with you. She sat down loudly beside you, startling some other students in the process, and placed her hand on your wrist.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you” She chuckled, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear as she looked at you excitedly. You cleared your throat and smiled, turning so you could face her.

“What for?” You asked politely, hoping you didn’t look too suspicious before she arrived.

Samantha closed your textbook and grabbed both of your hands, green eyes glistening in the candlelight above your desk.

“Well, for starters, Slughorns been trying to reach you all week but couldn’t find you at all,” The Slytherin student smirked, noticing your eyebrow raise in question.

“He wants you to attend tomorrow’s Slug club party” Her words caused you to groan, purposefully banging your head against the desk as you realised the party was this close. You knew it was happening before the Christmas holidays, it was Slughorns way of welcoming the students back for another term, you even attended the one last year.

“Merlin’s beard, I didn’t realise it was that close” You leaned back in your seat with defeat, looking at Samantha when she giggled at your reaction.

“I’ve been invited as well so you can borrow one of my dresses if you’re short of things to wear” She offered kindly, but you weren’t even sure if she was the same size as you. She saw the hesitance in your eyes and smiled.

“You can come to my dorm before the party, we can get ready together” She squeezed your hands for reassurance. You couldn’t help but nod, not wanting to disappoint her.

Samantha clapped her hands together, happy with your answer. She knew you a lot better than many people at Hogwarts, she’d been your friend for over a year now and without her you’d stay in your shell. But with her support, you could probably survive Slughorns party tomorrow night.

But as you packed your things and left for your dorm, you stopped dead in your tracks when you realised who was also going to Slughorns party. You felt like one of the castle ghosts face palmed you, you felt so stupid.

Tom was going to Slughorns party too. He went to every one, but never under these circumstances. Everytime you both went previously, the night had been full of snarky comments and comments that could’ve been regarded as bullying. But now, oh, why now.

You walked back to your dorm with your tail between your legs, dreading tomorrow.

The next day came too fast, and so did the moons sudden appearance outside Samantha’s dorm window, reminding you of the time. Slughorns party started at 7 o’clock, it was currently 6:15. Since Samantha’s dorm was so close to Slughorns quarters, it would only be a minutes walk.

You were sitting on the floor cross legged beside Samantha, applying makeup next to the small vanity just beside her bed. The mirror was wide enough for the two of you, knees touching and elbows occasionally bumping. You looked on theme, eyes dark with black liner and lips tinted with rose powder. The party was always darkly lit and attendees would always wear black or dark coloured clothing.

Samantha curled your hair and assisted with your outfit. You opted to wear something comfortable, knowing you wouldn’t spend long at the party. You ended up wearing a knee length dress with short sleeves and a square neckline. It was a perfect balance of casual and endearing.

Slipping on your shoes, you followed Samantha out of the girls dormitory and down the stairs into the common room, arm in arm. A few students lounged on the couches, mostly male, and whistled at the two of you as you left the staircase. Samantha didn’t shy away from the attention and blew a kiss at them, but you just smiled and waved, not sure how to react at the sudden attention. The boys continued howling and calling after you, but Samantha quickly dragged the two of you out into the hallway.

The two of you looked at each other and shared a moment of laughter, trying not to be too loud in case they heard.

As you expected, it didn’t take long at all to arrive at Slughorns party. You were the one to knock on the beautifully carved door, hands clutching at the shrug Samantha lent you.

You spoke with Samantha about something not too important before the door was opened, but your blood immediately ran cold as you locked eyes with the person who answered, dark eyes staring right back at you.

Tom’s face contorted into surprise when he saw it was you, realising this was the closest you’d been since last week. The noise inside the party muffled as his lips parted, as if he was going to say something to you.

“Evening Tom” Samantha greeted coldly, breaking the silence as she glared at him with a fake smile. Tom blinked at her, quickly rolling his eyes and opening the door further so you could both walk in. Samantha went first, then you went second.

You walked past Tom and felt your body shudder as you felt his eyes on you, quickly catching up with Samantha who walked straight towards Slughorn. The professor beamed when his eyes landed on the two of you, arms spread before clapping his hands together.

“How wonderful to see you both!” He shook your hands, but his attention was directed specifically towards you.

“I’m glad you’ve recovered from your brief sickness, I hope to see you in my class tomorrow Miss (S/N)” Slughorn teased, causing a blush to rise on your cheeks. You chuckled, playing along with his antics to avoid any awkwardness.

“Of course, professor” You offered your best smile, relieved when he moved onto Samantha who had a few questions for him about an upcoming assignment.

You walked over to Slughorns extravagant fireplace, standing by it to receive some kind of warmth. You rubbed your hands together, holding them nearby the cackling flames which offered comfort.

Someone behind you quietly cleared their throat, but you didn’t need to turn around to know exactly who it was.

You suppressed a nervous smile, holding your shawl in your arms as you looked over your shoulder. Tom was already looking straight at you when your eyes locked, his face adorning an undeniably handsome smile. You slowly turned your body around so you were facing him, you briefly allowed yourself to study his appearance, knowing he wouldn’t mind.

Tom cleaned up nicely, wearing black dress trousers and a white button up. He ditched his dinner jacket, his sleeves rolled up halfway and the top button at his collar undone. He wore a waistcoat which only made him look even more delectable. You could barely keep your eyes off him, no one could pay you to look away.

“It’s nice to see you” Tom broke the tension, taking a step forward so he was close enough to touch you. You didn’t move back, looking up as he inspected your face intricately. His eyes trailed down to your lips, noticing the tinge of rose coating them. Tom saw the reluctance in your expression, the fear of questioning what happened in the medical ward a week prior. You weren’t an often vulnerable person, nor were you shy, but in this moment you felt like the world would crumble if you uttered a single word to him.

“Are you feeling alright?” Tom asked, keeping his hands firmly in his pockets even though he wanted to brush the loose strand of hair from your forehead. You cleared your throat, looking down at your feet before replying.

“I’ve been fine, my leg healed up nicely” You didn’t mean to sound coy, but you shared a playful smile with Tom as he raised a brow, your minds going to the exact same, dirty place.

“I’m glad to hear, i can see the mark I made didn’t last long either” Tom whispered cruelly, his hand raising to brush just under your jaw, right where he made his mark on you in the infirmary. You shivered at his touch, sucking in a sharp breath as he tucked his hand back into his trouser pocket.

“I had to use some spells to make it heal faster, didn’t want anyone seeing it” You mumbled, aware of the other eyes in the room as other students started filling in. Tom couldn’t stop the smirk that parted his lips, shrugging his shoulders in a gesture of passive agreement, even though he secretly wanted everyone to know.

“I can’t argue that, maybe I should leave more next time-“

“Tom” You hissed, earning a sharp chuckle from him.

“I’m only joking, I’ll be a gentleman for the evening” The Slytherin prefect offered you his arm with a charming grin, dark eyes enticing you closer. You rolled your eyes and put on your best fake glare, keeping up the act you once had before everything happened.

Samantha was indulging in flirtatious conversation with a year 7 Gryffindor, her eye catching the shocking sight of you and Tom Riddle getting along. She almost let her glass slip from her hand, mouth hanging open as she trailed off her sentence.

It was a strange sight, and you did feel rather strange. You felt like you were betraying the person you were before the infirmary incident; the same person who wouldn’t have touched Riddle even if he was the last thing on earth.

But now the dynamic took a scandalous turn. The person you hated most, more than anyone in the entire world, reduced you to pleasured tears against a hospital bed. Knowing that alone made this moment much more intense, and Tom could sense your emotions just by the squeeze you gave his arm as you strolled around the room.

Slughorn’s eyes lit up when the two of you approached him, his expression twisting into subtle shock when he realised you two were arm in arm. The Professor was aware of the long term rivalry between the two of you, so your sudden closeness came as a surprise to him.

“If it isn’t my best students” Slughorn greeted with a large smile on his face.

“Evening Professor, great party as always” Tom bluffed, earning a wink from the Professor who pat him on the shoulder.

“You flatter me, Tom,” Slughorn scoffed lightheartedly.

“I hope you’re feeling better after that fall you had, Miss (Y/N), I was informed by the healers of your nasty injury” The old man had no clue of the thoughts running through you and Tom’s head the moment he brought up your injury. You had a sudden urge to shove Tom, knowing exactly what he was thinking as he stifled a wicked smirk.

“Thank you, Professor, I’m feeling much better” You assured him with a kind smile, enough to appease Slughorn’s concern.

“I’m glad to hear it young lady, I’m also glad to see the two of you getting along so well” The Professor had a knowing look in his eye, an almost teasing smile growing on his face as you felt yourself blush.

“You could say we’ve put aside our differences” Tom answered, a somewhat ominous tone to his voice. But nevertheless, Slughorn never questioned his favourite student regardless of the suspicion.

“Well, I’m glad! Maybe I should start pairing the two of you together during class” The Professor teased, but a part of you felt inclined to believe he was serious.

Looking at it from Slughorn’s perspective, partnering you and Tom together would make literal and figurative magic. You were both the top students in potions class, but together? You weren’t sure what lengths you could reach.

“I wouldn’t complain, Professor, Miss (S/N) would make an excellent partner” Tom smirked, noticing your fingers slightly tighten against his arm.

“Thank you, Tom” I smile, glancing at Slughorn who raised a playful brow at Tom’s flirty demeanour. Nevertheless, Slughorn kept the idea lingering in his head as he moved onto another student, leaving you and Tom to your own devices once more.

“I think we’d end up killing each other if we were partnered together” You whispered with a quiet chuckle.

“Hmm, maybe you’re right” Tom raised a hand to gently brush a loose strand away from your forehead, a strangely sweet and intimate gesture no one had ever done for you before.

“Your friend- what was her name… Samantha,” Tom sighed.

“She hasn’t stopped glaring at me for the past five minutes, I assume she carries a certain distaste for me?” Tom asked you in a sultry tone, his beady eyes glancing down at you.

“Most likely, she’s probably just confused” You brush off his concerns about Samantha, knowing you would face her wrath the next day.

Just as he was about to reply, Slughorn announced the meal would be starting, beckoning all the students closer to the dining table which was set with delicious food.

You separated from Tom and sat beside Samantha, who blatantly stared you down as you settled into the antique armchair. Her blue eyes felt icy on your face as you turned to meet her gaze, realising she was silently inquiring about Tom.

“Since when did you and Mister Dark and Broody get along?” She muttered under her breath as she took a sip of champagne on the table. You bit your tongue for a few seconds, about to answer when Slughorn pinged his knife against his wine glass, preparing all of us for a speech. Everyone’s mumbling turns into silence as all eyes settle on the potions teacher.

“Thank you all for coming to our Christmas Slug Club party, I’m delighted you all could make it,” Slughorn starts with a dashing smile, his cheeks slightly rosy from all the red wine he consumed.

“Tonight we celebrate the greatness that has come from each and every student sitting at this table. You have all exceeded magnificently in your studies, I am honoured to know such charming students” Slughorn stated with a positively delightful tone. You couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed on your own face, knowing he truly meant it towards every person at the table. Everyone toasted and cheered to his speech, clinking glasses together and mumbling praise before dinner began.

The plates magically blossomed with food, your eyes lit up at the ensemble of delicious combinations and condiments. You didn’t waste a moment, picking at the food politely with your work before taking a sip of wine. Samantha cleared her throat beside you, her eyes already looking at you.

“Continuing our conversation; Mister Slytherin Prefect has a soft spot for you now. When on earth did that happen?” The Gryffindor mumbled as other students dispersed in their own conversations. You sighed, knowing this conversation was inevitable.

“One day, we decided to put aside our immaturity and focus on better things. There’s no other reason” You answer, trying your absolute best to avoid any further suspicion. The last thing you wanted Samantha knowing was the truth.

Samantha gave you a sarcastic glare, knowing you were lying to her. But she didn’t pry, instead she dug into her own food and mumbled something to herself, her knife digging into her steak a little too harshly.

As your eyes searched around the table, you immediately looked back down at your plate once you noticed Tom already looking at you. Your neck rose with heat, your ears turned red, it felt so provocative for such a simple gesture. You took a gamble of bravery and looked up once again, this time meeting Tom’s gaze and not looking away.

His gaze was all consuming, his eyes were almost black, peering into the very depths of your soul with just a simple glance. Tom’s presence at the table was bold, he had his friends sitting at either side of him with smug expressions as they looked across the table at other students. But Tom wasn’t interested in anyone else, he didn’t even look at his friends if they spoke to him. He offered the most subtle glance, but it had your heart racing. You could feel your corset become rather suffocating, your chest gently rose every time you inhaled, accentuating your cleavage in the dress you were wearing. Tom didn’t miss that detail. He also didn’t miss the timid posture you expressed after your eyes met.

Dinner had come to an end, you managed to eat most of it but your mind was too occupied with Tom, you ended up skipping desert.

Students moved to the large space in Slughorn’s quarters to dance, a floating quartet playing classical in the corner. Samantha walked over to the dance floor with the 7th year Gryffindor she was flirting with before dinner, you smiled and watched as she made her move. You were standing alone, sipping some champagne, when someone stood beside you. You bit your tongue to stop yourself from smiling, nerves swirling in your belly as you looked up to meet Tom’s eyes. He had his hands in his trouser pockets, casually spectating the fairly busy dance floor before looking down at you.

“Would it be completely terrible to ask you for a dance?” He asked with a smirk, his aura radiating confidence and calculation.

“I think I would rather be set on fire by a Chinese Fireball” You scoff, maintaining a sharp wit like you once had before the infirmary incident. Tom laughed louder than you expected, shaking his head softly as he looked at the dance floor.

“You’d probably end up standing on my shoes, you’d be a terrible partner” He berated playfully.

“I’d purposefully stand on your shoes, I’d also dance in the wrong direction and make a fool of myself” You chuckle, taking another sip of your champagne. Tom bit back a smirk, flashing you another glance before clearing his throat.

“As long as you don’t fall over and hurt yourself again” Tom mumbled, causing your heart to skip as you swallowed your wine. You knew he was referencing last week; your fall and the wound on your leg. You bit your tongue to stop yourself from making a provocative comment.

“I’m sure you’d like that” You say, keeping your gaze focused on the dancing couples to save some sanity.

“If that means I get to see you sprawled out and whining my name again, then yes” Tom replied nonchalantly, but it almost caused you to choke on your champagne as you sipped on it. Your face burned, your body tingled with goosebumps at the memory. You shake your head, smiling as you turn to look at him.

“I didn’t realise you wanted that to happen again” You reply as casually as possible, but inside your heart was imploding with nerves.

“You thought that was only a one time thing? I’m almost insulted you think I’m that shallow” Tom smirked arrogantly, looking back out at the dance floor as people socialised. You weren’t sure what to say at first, feeling your stomach twist with undeniable desire. Last week, he didn’t even make you touch him. You didn’t even get the chance to unbutton his shirt or unzip his trousers. He placed every ounce of his focus on you, you shivered when you realised it might happen again.

“I didn’t mean to sound ignorant,” You mutter, your tone suddenly much more timid as you clear your throat.

“I’m just pleasantly surprised” You hum, still very unsure how to word your emotions and the attraction you felt towards him. Tom only grinned, chuckling to himself as he watched you struggle to muster the right words.

“You avoided me all week, do I make you that nervous?” Tom suddenly asks, making you blush shamefully.

“You do, but surely you can’t blame me. No one’s ever made me feel the way you have, somehow I resent you for it” I whisper, earning an even wider grin from the Slytherin prefect.

“Resent? Somehow that makes me desire you even more. Tell me, what was the part that made you resent me?” Tom smirked boastfully, turning to face you as you tried to avoid his gaze.

“Its just-… I just feel like it’s so unfair that the person I grew up hating is the one who made me feel so good, I’m not supposed to feel this way towards you” You say, feeling your self composure slip away as you unveil more of your emotions to Tom. He takes a step closer, his eyes burning into yours.

“So that’s it? You’re too full of your own ego, you don’t want to accept that I was the one who had you crying from pleasure, that it was me who effortlessly picked you apart until you were nothing but a shaking mess” Tom’s voice lowered as he spoke, truly testing your composure as you tried to act as normal as possible to anyone outside of the conversation. You could feel your panties pool with arousal just from his words, you could feel the delicious burning twist in your lower belly as you imagined him taking you once again. He knew you were thinking of it.

“You’re insufferable” You whisper, your hands gently shaking as you take a sip of wine.

“I’m honest, darling” Tom replies, tilting your chin up to look into his eyes. You felt like jelly, one move and you’d melt on the floor.

“Meet me in the room of requirement tonight at twelve if you want this to continue, but if not I won’t speak of it ever again” Tom says softly before letting go of your chin and reluctantly pulling away. You wanted to reach out to him, to drag him away and fulfil your shared desires. But now wasn’t appropriate.

You let out a deep breath, your heart racing as you registered what just happened. You already knew your decision, you weren’t going to let Samantha or anyone else stop you.

Speaking of which, Samantha had walked off with the Gryffindor boy, no doubt sneaking off into the girls bathrooms or the potions cupboard. So, you picked up your bag and shawl and left the party without another word. You couldn’t stay there any longer, but you checked the clock and realised it was already 11:35. Your stomach sank, you had to mentally prepare yourself for what was going to happen tonight. No one was looking for you, you’d deal with Samantha in the morning, but Tom was expecting you.

You started walking along the halls of Hogwarts, your heels clicking against the stone flooring. You walked up flights of stairs and passed by common rooms to reach the room of requirement. It was deadly quiet, not a soul roamed the halls apart from ghosts, so you had to be careful.

You came across the room of requirement door, only to find Tom hadn’t arrived yet. You wondered if you should go inside, but how would he know you were there? Shuffling in your spot, you glance at the corridors either side of you, your hands tingling with pins and needles as you try to control your breathing.

You were making the right choice, right? Was there a wrong choice to this situation? Tom made it clear nothing would happen again if you didn’t meet him here, he wouldn’t ever speak of it again. Was that the wrong choice? It felt like it. You felt as though denying your one true desire would be wrong, people are meant to feel like this about someone, eventually.

But Tom wasn’t your suitor. He wasn’t a prospecive partner or a man your parents picked out to court. He didn’t treat you like a lady, he trampled over your victories and spitefully teased you over the past 6 years. What was so tempting about a man like that?

Nothing, really. But what occurred a week prior sent every part of your hatred down the drain towards him. Tom never had a partner, he never showed interest in girls or even boys, he spent his time nestled in books and parchments, huddled away from the world in his own little bubble. So, why did he choose you to torment so wickedly with his tongue and fingers, why were you the only one who experienced his selfless nature? He never even let you touch him, but he touched you like he was obsessed.

“You came” Soft words knocked you completely out of your trance, causing you to jump softly and turn around to meet Tom’s face. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest, your hands trembled as you adjusted your grip on your clutch bag.

Tom stood a few meters away from you with his hands in his pockets, a serious expression on his face as the bricks on the wall started moving beside you, unveiling a door which led into the room of requirement.

You looked at Tom, clearing your throat.

“I won’t avoid you anymore,” You say, feeling your throat go dry as he took a step closer. But eventually, the words started bubbling up in your chest, your lips parting as you take a deep breath.

“I-… I can’t escape this feeling, I don’t- shit, I don’t know what you’ve done to me” You stammer, piecing together your emotions as Tom continued walking closer.

“I’ve tried ignoring it, I’ve tried ignoring you, but I can’t stand this tension any longer, Tom” You sigh, your voice becoming more shaky as you realised the proximity between you.

“I need to know if you feel the same, say something please-“ You whisper pitifully, but your words get cut off when you feel Tom cup your face, his other hand sliding around your waist as he leans down to kiss you.

It’s not your average kiss, it’s not the type of kiss you see walking down the street or imagine in a romantic novel. This is a kiss that leaves you frozen, it’s so pleasurably relieving, even as your body melts in his arms as you close your eyes and let your lips mold together. His kiss is hungry, it’s powerful, it’s shockingly debaucherous, but there’s a tender essence as he holds you close and tightens his grip on your lower back.

You wrap your arms around his neck, he gently pressed you against the cobblestone wall next to the room of requirement door as his hands moved to your waist.

This was too much. Surely you were dead. No amount of ecstasy or adrenaline like this could be experienced in a mortal life. Maybe you were dreaming.

“I want to be absolutely certain,” Tom whispered as he trailed his lips down your jaw, his kisses casting a burning path on your skin as he breathed against your pulse point.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks, pressing one gentle kiss to your collarbone before pulling back, his black eyes looking into yours deeply. For a few seconds, you forget to reply. Your eyes are half lidded, your breaths are shallow and laboured, did he place some kind of spell on you?

“I’ve never been so sure” You say shamelessly, your hands wandering to his tie and tugging on it, pulling him towards you so your lips were brushing together. You were almost certain you noticed a blush on Tom’s pale cheeks, his lips pulling into a boyish smile before he kissed you gently and took your hand, leading you into the room of requirement.

The heavy door whined loudly as Tom pushed it open, leading you inside before closing it over and turning to face the room. You expected the standard hall full of discarded magical items that had been gathered over the centuries. What you didn’t expect was an entirely new room. It was much smaller, the walls were cobblestone, the low cackling of fire echoed around the room.

Your heart nearly sunk to your feet the moment your eyes landed on… a bed. It was plush, something neither of you could ever afford. It’s frame was rich oak wood with a varnish finish, the mattress was large, could hold at least three. Beside the bed was a cosy fireplace, it’s amber light casting a gentle glow on the room. You were in such shock, you didn’t notice the heavy breath that left your lips as you took a few steps forward.

So this is what the two of you required. Something from your deepest desires, something neither of you could acquire. Neither you or Tom came from aristocracy, you weren’t used to lush beds or warm fireplaces, this was something the two of you desired. The room appeared to know exactly what you needed in this moment, at least that’s what it’s purpose was.

His hands slipped around your waist, his chest pressing against your back as his lips grazed the shell of your ear. Suddenly your dress felt suffocating.

“Do you still resent me?” He cooed, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your waist as he looked down at the bed from over your shoulder. You bit your tongue, your hands clammy and your heart hammering wildly against your chest as you softly leaned against him.

“What happens if I say yes?” You whisper, feeling him grin against your skin as his hands move up to the collar of your dress just behind your neck. His nimble fingers begin to undo the buttons down your back, wasting no time as he slid his hands under the fabric and started to untie the laces to your corset.

“I’ll give you a reason to resent me even more” Tom murmured against your neck, his hands teasingly tightening the laces of your corset, causing you to gasp quietly.

“I’m sure that’s not hard” You scoff.

You knew in that moment you should’ve held your tongue, because seconds later you were shoved against the cobblestone brick wall beside the door, Tom’s arms caging you in with no escape.

“So defensive, I’ve always liked that about you” Tom smirked, his hands dragging down the sleeves of your dress until the entire garment pooled around your ankles. You went to hide, but Tom pressed his body against yours and kissed you fiercely, his hands stroking the sides of your corset as you gripped onto his shoulders.

“Oh yeah? What else do you like about me?” You ask sarcastically, terribly out of breath and as bashful as a young schoolgirl. Your words sounded unsure, insecure almost. Tom could practically taste the nerves running through your system.

“Enough talking” He glares, clearly his patience was running thin. You knew he didn’t mean anything serious by his stern tone, it was negotiated from the start this would happen. Maybe he was just as desperate as you were.

You helped Tom remove his shirt, peeling it over his head and throwing it on the floor, discarded and ignored. His lips were on you once more, his hands fumbling with the laces of your corset as he slid his knee between your legs.

“So soft,” He whispers against your skin, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you forward on his thigh, his thumb skimming over the wound on your leg from the week prior. His eyes flashed with something primal for a second, as if he reminisced the taste of iron on his tongue from your bloody hands.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” Tom asks quietly as his tongue licks over your pulse, his hands finally untangling the threads to your corset and setting your lungs free from construction. You breathed out with relief, but suddenly you felt so exposed.

“No, Merlin no, you’re doing quite the opposite” You smile bashfully, trying to hide your nerves as you placed your hands on his bare chest. You could feel his heartbeat, it was racing just as much as yours. He was nervous too, if not more, but he was excellent at hiding it.

“Then, I assume you wouldn’t mind me taking this to the bed?” Tom leaned back, looking into your eyes with a boyish glimmer you’d never seen before. No one had seen Tom so gentle, so infuriatingly playful, but you had the privilege of experiencing all of it.

“I’m surprised we’re not there yet” You reply, trying to stifle a smirk as Tom leans into kiss you once again. As your lips press together, he guides you to the bed, kindly offered by the room of requirement, and you feel the backs of your knees hit the edge of the mattress.

You’re wearing nothing but a pair of sheer stockings and undergarments. Your corset has been completely removed, your torso was exposed entirely to his yearning gaze.

He pushes you onto the bed, his body hovering above yours as he moves his hand down to unbuckle his belt. He’s tantalisingly slow, unfair and cruel. You have every right to bite a sharp comment in his direction for teasing you this way, but you can’t find it in you to have an attitude in this moment.

“You’re awfully quiet, what’s happened to that girl with the wicked tongue moments ago?” Tom poked, mouthing along your collarbone as you tried not to squirm beneath him.

“You don’t enjoy my silence?” You scoff, knowing a part of Tom would’ve liked the control he had over you.

“Not really, I find myself missing your brutal comments and shameless taunts… perhaps I’ve truly broken you” Tom chuckled darkly, wrapping his lips around one of your taut nipples as you glare down at him.

“You wish,” You scoff, albeit squirming a little from the sweet pleasure provided by Tom’s lips. Tom smirked against you, playfully biting the sensitive bud.

“Yet I have you right where I want you, I could break you if I wanted” He whispered, hands finally unbuckling his belt and sliding it off in one deft movement. You kept your eyes on his, rather nervous for what’s to come, but he reassured your racing thoughts by kissing back up your heated skin, breathing against your neck in such a provocative way.

“Tell me what you want” He cooed, biting down on your neck and beginning to suck a love bite onto your skin. You suck in a sharp breath, looking at the ceiling.

“I want you to do what you did last time” You say quietly, the blood rushing to your cheeks.

“Hmm, what was that? I did a few things last time” Tom replied, pressing your hips together and grinding his crotch against yours.

“That thing with your mouth, you smug bastard” You hiss with annoyance but undeniable arousal, your legs softly shaking from the anticipation.

“That’s not very nice, is it?” Tom taunted cunningly, his body leaning back from yours as he sat back on his knees, looking down at your exposed body.

“I could just say no, give you my cock now and shut you up real good” Tom purred, his clothed erection pressing tight against your pussy. You frown, eyes a little wide from such an obscene comment, but you couldn’t deny the rush you felt from his words. Your silence made him grin, his hand moving down your stomach and eventually against the material of your panties. He caressed you softly there, just under your clit where he felt a damp spot on the lacy garment, a wicked look in his eye.

You fell completely silent, quite overcome with timidness as you shy away from his eyes, looking away and pressing your knuckles softly against your lips.

“Maybe I will give you what you want after all…” Tom whispered, a heady tone in his dark voice. His mouth latched onto your supple skin once more, tongue flicking out to taste the warmth and subtle musk of your natural scent.

He trailed a path of kisses down to your lower stomach, pressing his cheek against your thigh and smiling up at you as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulders.

“Oh I’ve missed this…” Tom groaned, his eyes flickering down to the wet patch on your panties.

You practically melt, stomach fluttering and legs shaking, when Tom suddenly kisses your clit through the material of your panties. You try to close your legs but he’s got them firmly held open, a grunt escaping his lips.

His tongue poked against the fabric, wetting it more with his saliva as he tasted the faint, familiar taste of your slick. He smirked, burying his nose into the fabric and softly inhaling the scent, his own hips bucking in response.

You can do nothing but lie there and take it, your body trembling and your eyes glazed over with intense arousal as you grip tightly onto the sheets.

“Tom, please-“

“Shh… none of that now, darling” Tom cooed, his voice muffled against the fabric of your panties as he grasped your legs and pulled you closer, your legs over his shoulders.

You whine breathlessly, chest heaving softly as you feel your legs tremor slightly, hips gently jutting in response to his obscene display of arousal. But to a certain extent, you couldn’t deny Tom’s desperation, he’d been denied this for long enough, and Tom was never denied. He’ll have you, one way or another.

He hooked his fingers around the hem of your panties and pulled them clean off, throwing them to the side. Now, you were only clad in your stockings, cunt exposed to his predatory gaze. You felt so small.

You utter another soft gasp as he kisses the insides of your thighs, his breath hot. Then, as if the string of tension finally snapped, Tom pressed a soft kiss to your clit and practically groaned. His tongue followed shortly after, tasting the wetness of your arousal that had his mind spinning in seconds.

Tom let go of all inhibitions and let loose his control, lapping and sucking at your cunt as if it was his life source. You struggle to breathe properly, heart racing as your eyes roll back, sounds of ecstasy slipping through your swollen lips.

Suddenly the room feels like it’s spinning, you lace your fingers through his black curls and tug helplessly, earning a deep grunt from him as he moved his fingers from your thigh to your slick entrance.

He picks you apart so quickly it’s unfair, you gasp for breath and feel your sight get blurry when he slides his fingers into you and curls against that gorgeously sensitive spot inside you, the one that has your toes curling. Your moans and whines echo around the room, pure music to Tom’s ears as he starts pumping his fingers inside you, coating them with your wetness. He’s eager to make you cum, but a cruel part of him wants to keep you on edge. Until he can give you his cock and make you feel even better.

“Tom…!” You mewl, hips gently jutting against his mouth, sweet pleasure tearing through your body.

“That’s it” He whispered in a hoarse tone, his lips and chin coated with the essence of your arousal. The look in his eyes made you shiver, a cocktail of pure hunger and craving.

Tom laces his fingers with yours and holds your hand to your lower stomach, just as his tongue curls harder against you and your legs shake badly. His flash of tenderness only makes this moment more addictive.

You pant and whine like a mutt in heat, trembling beneath him and doing your absolute best not cum early. It’s hard, Tom knows this, and he makes it his goal to make this even worse for you.

“Come on sweetheart…” He whispers against your clit, his tongue continuing its cruel assault. Your legs involuntarily shake, your breaths are raspy and uncontrollable.

Soon, that gorgeous pressure in your stomach finally snaps, causing you to cry out with ecstasy. Your gummy walls clench around his slender fingers as he curls them, coaxing every drop of release from you. Your hand fists his hair, but he doesn’t feel pain. He only feels you.

“I can’t-“ You sob, flinching away from his touch as his fingers continue moving inside you. He’s an insistent, selfish glutton.

He removes his fingers, replacing them with his tongue that laps unforgivingly at your slick cunt. You feel like you want to scream, the pressure and pleasure like nothing you’ve felt before. Somehow he’s gotten better, or perhaps worse, since the incident in the infirmary.

He hums against you before pulling away, his face flushed and his breathing slightly laboured. With struggle, you open your eyes and gaze at him with a weak stare, your hands still holding his.

“Beautiful,” he whispers softly, leaning down to kiss you with his slick stained lips. You kiss him slowly and deeply, tasting your release on his wicked tongue.

You can faintly hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, but he doesn’t break his focus at kissing you. He practically shoves you back onto the bed when you chase after his lips, unbuttoning his trousers and tugging them down as he struggled to control his rapid breathing.

“Maddening woman,” He grunts with lustful frustration, eyes dark with desire and want.

“You’ve plagued my every thought for the past week, heard your sweet sounds in my dreams” He huffs, his lips and teeth latching onto your jugular as he pushed your legs apart. You trembled, stuttering over unspoken words as his short nails dug into the meat of your thighs, sure to leave bruising.

“Last chance to say no” he pants, looking into your eyes with sincerity.

“Merlin Tom, get your bloody trousers off” you hiss, fire in your eyes as you looked up to meet his heady gaze.

“Impatient,” he tutted, but did as you asked in the same breath. He pulled his trousers down, removing his boxer briefs as well which left him bare before you. His cock exposed, adorned by a thick batch of curls.

“Spoiled,” Tom mumbles, offering a few languid pumps to his hardened cock.

“I’d call you a brat but you’d probably enjoy that” He huffs, leaning forward and pressing the tip between your slick folds. But he doesn’t push in, not yet, instead he pays some attention to your chest and litters a few bite marks and hickeys, gently grinding his cock against you, slathering himself.

“Can I…?” He groans against your collarbone, kissing it softly as he lines himself up.

“Please” You plead wantonly, fighting the urge to push your hips towards him. Your body was on fire, it only burned brighter as you felt him push forward slowly, his tip pushing past that slick barrier, sinking into the warmth of your body.

He lets out a ragged groan against your skin, his teeth pinching at the skin of your neck we he held one of your legs further up on his waist, pushing deeper until he hit base.

The two of you shuddered at the feeling, knowing there was no going back now.

“Merlin-“ you cuss silently, your first time done with the quick thrust of Tom’s hips, your thighs trembling. It didn’t hurt, not when he looked after you so, so well before. You only wanted more.

“Take me, please” you whisper with a concept of modesty, although you physically had none left in this space of ecstasy.

He pushed his hips against yours in a sinfully lazy rhythm, just enough movement for you to go hazy eyed and mushy on the inside. You squeaked and grunted but you both knew it wasn’t enough. He knew it wasn’t enough, but he knew it was necessary for what’s to come.

Tom let out a low rumble, a noise that could pass as a moan, as he closed his eyes and his brow gently furrowed, feeling your warmth around him. The single most addictive and comforting thing he’s felt.

He kissed you, soft and sweet, his breaths growing shallow as his hips gently picked up the pace. Your legs shuddered by his hips, toes curled, lips desperately trying to keep up with his.

“Tom,” you whine, almost like a pathetic plea, your forehead pressed against his.

“I know,” he grunted, pushing his hips intensely against yours, as if to see how deep he could go. He let out a strangled sigh, his black curls now disheveled as his head dropped to your neck, his teeth latching onto your skin, sucking a gentle mark as his hips started moving faster.

You gasped and threaded your fingers through his hair, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs to keep you where he needs you. Where he begs you to stay.

The room slowly plumes with sounds of gentle skin slapping and lewd sounds from the both of you, the air heady with desire and need. You cling to him like he’s all you’ve got, your head feeling airy as his hips slam into yours. You choke on your own sounds, sinking your teeth into his pale shoulder to muffle the loud cries your lungs were begging to let out.

Tom’s hand curls around your neck, pushing you away from his neck, leaning back to look you in the eyes.

“Not a chance” he huffs, hooking an arm under your leg and bringing it up to his shoulder, stretching you out to achieve an even deeper angle. You cry out softly, his hand is loose around your neck, but it doesn’t leave. He needs to see you like this, to satisfy the need he’s had for you, for weeks.

The sounds coming from between your physical union are obscene, your walls clenching around him as your body craves for release.

“Please-“ you gasp as his hand tightens on your neck, his black eyes flashing as he hears you.

“What is it, darling?” He coos, although maintaining his pace, his other hand keeping your leg firmly around his waist.

“Faster” you manage out, eyes gentle and bleary, hands shaky as you wrapped one around his wrist. His eyes sharpened, his lips curling into a smile.

“Anything for you” he whispers, wetly kissing your jaw, his hips offering a rough thrust before he slowly picked up the pace by the second.

Your nails dragged down his shoulder blades as you whimpered his name and kissed his skin hungrily, sweat on your skins, eyes glassy, heat rising, rising, and rising.

It went this way for a while, with sinful cries and whines echoing around the room of requirement. He had you right where he wanted you, but he knew you wanted the same. You were perfect, so entirely his.

You struggle to realize how much time is going by, with every movement of his hips and yours. With every heated kiss, every dig of his fingertips and nails, every bite of his teeth, he had you falling harder and harder. In love? You weren’t sure.

All you knew was that he was yours now, and you were his, and this strange connection you had… it was exhilarating.

The night swirled into a hurricane of passion, need, and relief. He didn’t care, or know, about anything other than you in that moment. All he knew was his need for you, the way his voice gasped your name as his hips stuttered, a groan ripping from his throat as he reached the peak of his ecstasy. He kissed you so fiercely you almost became light headed all over again, your arms wrapping around him. You felt the warmth of his release on your stomach, your heart racing and your legs still trembling as you pulled back and watched him with a fixated gaze.

His breathing was labored, just like yours, but he managed the most rugged smile even in a moment of pure ecstasy and content.

“Still hate me?” He smirked. You rolled your eyes.

“With all my heart” You huffed, causing him to laugh quietly, resting his head against your chest, his body slumped on yours. You twirled your fingers through his hair, his eyes lulling shut as he heard the rhythm of your rapidly beating heart.

“Good” He smiled against your skin, just as the candle in the room finally went out.

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