#watch there not be a single fucking mention of it watch

[josephquinnswhore]

the consequence of us

dbf! joel miller x female reader

summary: joel broke off your affair two weeks ago, and now he realises he’s made a grave mistake.

word count: 3.4K

content warning: age gap, joel is old enough to be her dad, reader is mid twenties but unspecified. Reader has cellulite, mentions of power play, Joel’s a bit of a creep lmao, possessive, obsessive behaviour, use of baby girl & daddy dynamic. Collaring, male masterbation, p in v, raw fucking, creampie, sorta rough sex, public sex, submission. (no outbreak)

Everyone has felt the eerie sensation once in their lifetime, the paranoid feeling of being stared at; only this time, you know you're being stared at. Everytime you bend down to pick up a discarded beer can off your fathers perfectly mowed lawn, with each soft handed gesture on one of your fathers older friends arms, every laugh that seemed a little too real.

But it was your intention, for him to notice you. Perhaps to show him that you could indeed live without him, despite the fact that two weeks ago, on his front porch you'd been weeping, grasping onto him as you beg him not to break things off with you.

The shameful memory of snot and tears mingling as you sobbed on your knees for another chance, like you’d even done anything wrong. Clinging onto the small silver chain he'd gifted you - a subtle everyday collar, one he’d promised with the intention of making you his, properly.

That someday he would make you his girl officially.

This evening, it seemed as though that girl had never existed, maybe it was all a figment of his imagination, of how he saw you, and wanted you to be. A sweet little girl dependent on him.

Joel had managed with teeth scraping against his bottom lip that this was for the best, that a sweet girl like you didn't need him invading your personal life, or that this was wrong, for a man twenty years older than you–let alone the fact that he was your fathers best friend.

Now as he watches you standing next to your fathers friends, with a middle aged woman on his arm, he feels sick to his stomach. You should be doing this with him, the shameless flirting, touching and sneakily bending over for him when no one else seemed to notice. It's like now, you didn't care who saw. Any attention was yours for the taking, and that repulsed joel.

The sweet girl he knew wasn't some attention starved daddies girl dying to fuck every single one of his colleagues and friends, Joel was special, had been.

What was this then, revenge? An attempt to outshine the woman he had on his arm that was closer to sixty than he was. No doubt, his date–Sue. She was beautiful, but she was too outgoing, too loud, too chatty. She drank too many glasses of wine and clung onto joel like he was some kind of prized show dog. Much like that mangy purse mutt she had at her house. Joel didn't belong with Sue, in her middle class house and aggressive teacup chihuahua.

The only place he had ever felt himself belong was with you, a subservient, submissive and sweet girl, did anything Joel had ever asked, found pleasure in being submissive. Maybe he did ruin you, turned you into some kind of modern day sexually aware woman that knew that she was too good for him anymore.

Once again, you're bending over to reach into the large cooler in your fathers shed not bothering to pull down your dress, Joel's eyes were drawn to the sight like a hound. He felt himself growing stiff at the sight of your asscheeks barely covered by the tight dress, each curve, hill and cellulite dimple could be seen leaving nothing to the imagination besides one thing.

What colour panties were you wearing?

“Excuse me a moment, won't you?” He utters to sue under his breath, prying her clinging arm off of his own and approaching you across the lawn, swerving between guests. Before he could reach you, you've left the shed, three cans of drink in hand as you hand them out to your father and two of his friends.

Joel scowls, snatching a cold can out of the cooler and watching you shamelessly across the front yard. He couldn't stop staring at you, your legs, the way your hips swing with every step. It was a fucking nightmare knowing that he had done this, created this confident vixen hell bent on torturing him. He couldn't grab at you, swiftly text you to steal you away for a few minutes for a quickie in the bathroom.

He had ended this, told you it was for good, for real this time.

You know he hasn't been able to take his eyes off of you, and finding your stomach, you approach his date later on in the evening after she's had a few drinks and is standing by her lonesome. “Hi, we haven't met, have we? You're Susan?”

The older woman greets you with a look of complete indifference, a non subtle judging stare in her olden glassy eyes as she gives you a look up and down. “Sue, actually, and you are?”

You reply with your name, giving her a sickly sweet and fake smile, standing tall and rolling your shoulders backwards, ready to cause some strife for the old hag. “So.. you're Joel’s.. what exactly..?”

The disbelief in your tone had the woman feeling insulted, and the stiff look of her face gave that away. She seemed incredibly insecure, you noticed the way she had clung onto Joel since they got here. “We’ve been talking for a while, I’ve heard he's going to ask me to be his girlfriend soon.”

A small snort escapes your nose, and before the woman could drill into you about your reaction..

“Oh you know.. He's just not that good with relationships you know? Totally a ladies man, he likes ‘em young–or younger than you, anyway. So don't hope too much that Joel even likes you at all..anyway, it was so lovely meeting you.”

You hear the woman huff loudly as you abruptly turn and walk away, knowing that you caused an absolute shit fire for Joel to deal with tonight, but you didn't expect Sue to start screaming at Joel the moment you walked away from her.

He sends a glare to you, across the yard, his eyes dark and furious. You were the cause of this, he knew it. As Sue screams at him, he drags her away, down the street.

It's a while before Joel returns, but he comes back alone, explaining to your father what happened. “She's having a moment, probably menopause or something.”

That was hilarious to you, and Joel catches you laughing, beelining straight to you. He grabs your hand, which you shake off, and he doesn't attempt to make another effort to grab you.

“The hell was that? Are you gonna start causing issues for me now?”

With a faux innocent tilt of your head you shrug your shoulders. “I'm sorry, I was just being honest with her, is honesty a problem now, Mr Miller?”

He shouldn't have gotten hard over such a minor thing, being called Mr Miller instead of Joel, that doe-ish look in your eyes as you look up at him, he cant help the stiffness in his jeans return again. Of course you notice the tension, the way he becomes uncomfortable, but you don't dignify him by looking at the thick bulge in his pants, not bothering to show any interest at all.

That.. is what bothers Joel the most. Your disinterest.

His eyes are glued to your every step as you walk away, he subtly palms himself through his jeans and makes his way inside of the house with the intent to wash his face and try to calm down the raging hardness of his cock, but when he smells your perfume in the bathroom.. He loses any sense of control he thought he had.

It was the same perfume you'd spritzed onto your skin before sneaking out to see him all those times, the floral scent lingering on your warm velvety neck. He locks the bathroom door behind him, looking at himself in the mirror. “Get a grip, Miller. She's done with you, you're done with her.”

He quickly contradicts his hollow whisper as he picks up a pair of used black panties on the top of the laundry basket, ones he knew were yours, the soft lace g-string, with a silver love heart on the front, covered in small diamonds, ones he had pulled to the side more times to fuck your hole than he could remember.

It's a desperate and shameful act, he knows, but doesn’t care. He desperately unzips his jeans and pulls out his thick, weeping cock from his jeans, stroking desperately. The other hand holds your panties and he looks at himself as he brings the lace material to his nose and smells it. They're used, and he pulls his cock faster as he shoves the material further into his face, a wet patch on your panties is all he can feel.

The smell of you has him groaning into the lace, desperately fisting his cock faster than he ever had. His knees buckle and he whimpers quietly as he starts sucking on the delicious soaking crotch of your panties as he doubles over the sink and spills a thick load, shooting across the basin.

Joel's sweating, taking one last inhale of your panties, before tossing them back into the laundry hamper, stuffing his softening cock into his jeans before turning on the tap to wash away any evidence of the violating act. He cups his hands under the running water and splashes some onto his face.

As he swings the bathroom door open, you're standing there with a shit eating grin. “All good in there?”

“Fine,” he utters, wondering if you knew, he couldn't meet your gaze after what he’d just done.

Fuck, you were evil for making him like this.

By midnight, everyone had gone home, stumbled off down the cul de sac to their houses, but you don't see Joel leave, which is strange. With your father inside of the house, and the lights shut off, you sneak out of the yard with your phone in hand, texting your friend with the intention of going to her house to drink, walking down the pathway down the street to where your car is parked.

Oblivious, you reach your car and are shocked to see Joel, leaning against the driver's side door. “Where do you think you’re going?” The growl sends a shiver up your spine, a feeling you miss.

“Out,” Joel towers over you as he stands upright, no longer leaning against your car.

“Like hell you are.” There's an edge of possessiveness to his tone, and the way he stands over you. “You need to explain yourself, all that shit you've been doing tonight.”

“I don't have to explain shit–” he cuts you off, his hand shoots out quickly to grab onto your hand. But you react without thinking and slap him.

His eyes snap shut from the force of your hand on his cheek, your hand now stinging from the contact. When he opens his eyes, his gaze is darker than before. He wraps his arms around your waist, grabbing a hold of you as he shoves you roughly against the side of your car door, you wince as your back makes contact with the cold metal. He stands flush against you, whispering in your ear as he cranes his neck downward.

“Careful. You shouldn't start something’ you can't finish baby girl.”

“I’m not your baby girl.”

God-if only you knew how much that struck a nerve within him. “Don't start that.” His voice is harsh, fingers digging tighter into the soft flesh of your chin.

“You're nothing to me.” You insist.

He bit back, his temper flailing. “Yeah? You really tryin’ to convince me that I ain't anythin’ to you, baby girl? That you don't care no more?” His thumb grips your chin harshly, jolting your neck up to look into his eyes.

There's a challenging look in your eyes, defiance, no sign of the devotion or submission he's so used to with you, he really has ruined you.

“Move Joel.”

He knew if he could just manage to get a peep out of you, a small whine or a moan out of you, that he could draw you back into him. His hand trails downward to your nipples, pinching softly, he knew it was such a sensitive area for you, which usually had your back arching.

You should have reacted, whimpered and squirmed or let out a small whine from those pretty lips that he was so used to hearing when he touched you like this. But you gave him nothing, no reaction at all, how did he let this happen? “Why the hell are you bein’ like this? Why are you fightin’’ me so hard?”

“Because I realised something, Joel.” Stepping forward, you bring your hand down to his belt, grabbing onto the buckle.

“And what is it that you think you have figured out?”

“It’s you who needs me.”

He couldn't even deny it, how his stomach felt sick at the thought of you knowing. That somehow you knew that this went beyond physical for him too. When he's silent, you roughly shove him away by the buckle of his belt. Stumbling a few feet back, he hated how weak he felt right now.

“You’re old, Joel. You love how it feels to have someone so much younger to pine over you, that's why things won't last with that old cunt, sue. Part of you needs me, joel, that why you were so fucking insistent on pushing me away.”

He freezes at your observation, words that are sharp, and true. Gritting his teeth, with his chest rising and falling, all he could do was breathe heavily.

“But me? I have options, time too. To find someone who would be proud to show me off. But you won't, you’re scared Joel, and it's because you're insecure.”

He feared this, thinking about you with men your own age, how they threw themselves at you, fit and capable of taking you out and giving you everything you ever wanted. Joel was selfish for wanting you all to himself, for craving you, obsessing and unable to let you move on. Because as long as even a part of you still wanted him, he was worth something. The grey hairs didn't matter, nor did his softening belly or the developing ache in his worn knees.

He hated how much he needed you.

You grip his chin, the salt and pepper scruff tickles your palm. Forcing him to look at you. “Say it Joel.”

His entire body tenses as you try to force the admission out of him, try to cut him open and deflower his tightly wound emotions. “Stop it.” He growls weakly, voice strained.

“Admit it!” You shout at him.

Every part of him begged for him to let go of this stubborn defiance and tell you how he felt, that he felt afraid, even though all he'd known was keeping you at arm's length. “Stop!”

With another harsh shove, you growl. “Just admit it!”

“Admit what? That I'm insecure, that I’m afraid of losing you? That every moment all I can think about is you, how much I fucking love you? What are you tryin’ to get out of me, huh?”

As his chest heaves, he can't help spilling out how he felt now, you broke the dam. “I worry that you'll find some other man to love you, touch you. That you'll come to your senses and realise you need someone your own age who is better able to take care of you.”

“So you broke my heart? That's how you face those fears?”

“The hell was I supposed to do?” With a defensive snap, he hated the weakness he felt now that you’d expelled the truth.

When you don't have an answer Joel is becoming more desperate for you to feel something for him, to let him know that there's still some space in your heart for him after all hed done.”Baby girl..” he whimpers, voice cracking with emotion..

“Don’t,” you protest weakly.

Joel realises that you don’t need him like this, all self doubting, you need your daddy.

He cages your body between his own and the car. “Too damn bad, because I’m touchin you, you ain’t rejectin’ me, you ain't gonna ignore me.” He leans his head down to your level. “And you sure as shit aint ever fucking leavin’ me.”

As he slams his hips against yours, finally a pathetically small whimper leaves your lips.

There it was, you were giving into him, that pretty sound he hadn't heard from you in weeks. “There's my pretty girl,” he whispers against the soft flesh of your neck.

“Don't fight me baby girl..” his lips on your neck have your back arching away from the car, leaning flush against Joel’s chest, but he doesn't want you to have any semblance of control. Roughly, he spins you around and shoves your body against the car, his chest flush against your back.

His hands unzip his jeans, pulling out his thick cock for a second time this evening, lifting your dress up to find you weren't wearing any panties at all, his eyes barely able to process the sight of your bare sopping cunt under the haphazard dim street light. “You knew what you were doin’ to me baby, wearing this tight dress and no panties.”

The palm of his hand smacks your wet lips, using the slick to coat his cock as he pumps it a few times.

His cock is thicker than you remember and you whine at the protrusion, forcing his cock inside of you as he forces you against the side of your car. A yelp leaves your lips and he quickly covers your mouth with his large hand. “Shh baby girl.. Daddy is gonna take you in the middle of the street, as a punishment for your actions. Don't want nobody to hear, do we?”

Frantically, you shake your head no, and he shakily praises you. “That's a good girl.”

Without any warning at all, he slams his cock into you, pushing your face into the car as he rams into you ferociously, fucking into you so deep that your eyesight starts to blur. “Think you can leave me? No body ain’t ever gonna fuck you like I do, baby girl.”

You squeal into his hand as he fucks you harder than he ever had, proving to you and himself that he was worthy of you. As your legs begin to tremble, Joel brings his other hand to pinch your nipple, and the orgasm crashes over you in waves, the feeling is intense and your body is limp between Joel and the car. Tears leave your eyes as your cunt clenches around Joel.

Joel's muttering under his breath. “That's it baby.. Make daddy feel so good. I'll kill anyone if they ever try to take you away.”

His thick cock pushes so deep inside of you for a final time as the tip twitches and he cums inside of you. Growling into your ear as his forehead rests on your shoulder.

Hesitant to pull out, he thrusts a few more times into you, making sure most of his cum stays inside you.

Pulling your dress down, he stuffs his cock back into his jeans and turns you around, wiping the steady tears off your cheeks. “Now go on back inside, alright? We’re going on a date tomorrow, a real one. Take you to a fancy place where we’ll sit down an’ eat. Just us. Daddy ain’t gonna leave you again, so that means you start wearin’ your collar again.”

Numbly, you nod, unable to form coherent words after the encounter. Pleased, he kisses your forehead, then gives your ass a light pat to send you on your way back inside your house. He stalks you down the street, making sure you get home safely, before retreating into his own house.

He watches you from his bedroom window as you turn on the dim lamp, and put on your silver collar just as he’d asked. He had his baby back, hell would freeze over before anything came between you, if your father found out.. Joel would handle him when it came to that.

No matter what that entails.

[sweetinsaniiity]

Sore And Sick

► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗�� - blackmail!owner!Hongjoong x shoplifter!reader◄ ► 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎/𝙰𝚄 - blackmailing trope, shoplifting au, 98% smut, crime, reader has kleptomaniac! tendencies, caught red-handed, blasphemy, mentions of therapy and roleplay, mafia? (can't resist with the new MV teehee), aftercare, fluff, sweet!but!psycho!Hongjoong agenda, actually sweet!Joong, plot twist ◄ ► 𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - PG-18+ so MDNI!!!, CNC (dubcon), but I promise it's !conensual, softdom!Hongjoong, sexual petnames, blackmail for !sex, punish fuck, rough sex, bigdick!Joong ftw, cursing, daddy kink, manhandling, oral sex/fingering while on the phone, sneaky sex, semi-public, slight resistance, doggy, missionary, protection (at first,), removal of condom, creampie, no protection (DO NOT DO THIS!!!!), night terrors, mentions of guns and drugs (NOT TOWARDS YOU)◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 13K+ words (this is the shortest fic I've done) ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - Your sleight of hand gets you in trouble one day when you are caught stealing red-handed by the owner of the store you tried theft at.◄ ► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - This isn't my usual thing. I've always preferred plot-driven fics and I always prefer being the reader of smut rather than writing it. This is more of a filler until I publish my next one. Enjoy! Title from Motionless In White. ◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - @0rangemilk @ginger-mingi @ruubyrubes @oddracha @jaytheatiny @roxannecos @juicy-red @cheolliehugs (message me because I can't tag y'all) ◄ ► 𝙽𝚎𝚝s - @cultofdionysusnet @wonderlandnet @othersideoutlawsnetwork @whipped-kpop-creators @illusionnet @pirateeznet ◄

You had no idea when it started, but when it did, you just never knew how to stop. But you did remember how.

A small tug on the corner of your lips painted your face as you looked around conspicuously left and right to see if someone was watching. When you deemed the coast clear, you discreetly pocketed the small bag of chips.

How it didn't make a sound, you had no idea, but goddamn, it was more nerve-wracking than you thought it was.

At that time you didn't know what hit you and admittedly, you were a bit tipsy when it first happened. Company dinner. Go figure.

You always craved something extremely salty after you drink anything. Unfortunately for you - or maybe not - you were a lightweight; born to be one, unwillingly so.

The next time you did it again, you were stone-cold sober. This time, it was the makeup section of this department store. They were the high-end ones designed to lure in the arrogant elitists whose hobby was to throw money at the expense of overconsumption.

Ha! You're no different. That statement always rang in your head, and deep down your soul, you knew it was true. 

Your haul became bigger and bigger - literally and figuratively. You were able to get away with thousands of dollars of merchandise. You knew it was wrong, some poor employee was probably paying for it with their minimum wage salary.

So you tried to stop, but for the life of you, you just couldn't. When you were close to getting caught, all you had to do was bat your lashes and play the needy damsel in distress act, and then you were gone.

It became an addiction.

At first, you justified it by convincing yourself that you were 'saving' money, but slowly, it was the addicting feeling of getting away with something; the rush and the confidence that builds every single damn success.

And by God, that power was sweet.

Most of the things you swiped weren't even things you needed, heck, most of them never saw the light of day ever again afterwards.

The same department store was almost empty when you walked in through one of those automatic doors that opened when you got in front of it. You mentally rolled your eyes, because of course, it did.

"Hi," you greeted the first employee you saw with the brightest smile. "Would you happen to know where the women's clothes are?"

The way she smiled at you with a welcoming gesture almost made your stomach churn out of guilt from what you were about to do. Almost. 

"Right this way," she started to put her foot forward to lead you, but you quickly stopped her.

"No! No, please," you halted her, a little jumpier than you intended. You sheepishly offered her a small smile. "I would like to do it myself, if it's okay. Relaxation time, you know what I mean?"

Her mouth formed an O-shape and her face lit up in understanding. It took a lot in you not to sigh in relief in front of her. You opted to do it the moment you hit your next stop.

The moment you hit the aisles, the smirk on your lips didn't hold back. This was a gold mine for people like you - but hey, nobody was perfect. Everyone had their vices, yours just didn't involve illegal substances or the spirits in bottles, is all.

There were already pieces that caught your eye. You had a plan, something you've never tried before, but there's a first time for everything. However, all it took was that one bastard who was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

You've been doing this for some time now, there was absolutely no way you were getting caught now. Losing wasn't part of your vocabulary. The game would be over by then and the fun would die.

Your brows widened when your hand hit a piece of fabric you weren't expecting. It was smooth, a contrast to all the silks you've had contact with.

You whistled when you took it out. It was a ruffled mini skirt, the classic type, the type that will compliment every body type. It was sure to turn heads towards your legs. And you wanted it.

If there was one thing about you, if you want it, then it's already yours.

With your usual glance to the left and on your right, you discreetly turned around away from the cameras and unzipped your jacket, bundling the skirt into a small ball and trying to tuck it inside.

You did that multiple times with more things and as people started to flock everywhere, you knew that you had to go.

Just one more thing and you will leave. As you made your way to the lingerie station, you envisioned which one you'd want to wear tonight as you celebrated yet again another success.

"Hmm," you hummed in concentration as you picked underwear after underwear whether they were slutty enough or just enough. "These suck."

In the end, you settled for this beautiful red, velvet teddy that was sure to hug every curve on your body. You couldn't help but giggle as you imagined yourself laying in bed with a glass of wine in hand.

Having no more space anywhere else, you opted to put it inside your purse. It was big enough to fit it. There was a rush in your veins, the sound of your purse zipper thrumming along with your excitement.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

You froze, in fact, everything froze, but the most remarkable thing was the beating of your heart. The way it stuttered out of beat, that terrified you more than the voice who had interrupted you.

You had hoped that it was just a passing customer or employee as you turned around. You could just put on your best charm, but you cursed under your breath when it wasn’t.

"It's not what you think," you blurted out, feeling dumb. Sue me, you thought. You had never been in a situation like this before.

The security guard squinted his eyes and tilted his head. "Sure doesn't look like it." 

He pointed at a certain corner of the clothing racks, and you significantly paled at the small, distinct, beeping light that signified a hidden camera. "He's been watching," he murmured, uninterested.

"Who is?"

"Who else? The owner."

There was a first time for everything, indeed. This was the first time you got caught, and for the first time, there was no getting away with it.

Fuck, you internally cursed. Where did you go wrong? 

You had never been more frightened than you were at that moment, especially when a large hand started pulling on your arm and started leading you somewhere.

"W-Where are you taking me? I didn't consent to this," you frowned.

Cold sweat started seeping out of your pores when the security guard's darted towards you. "The owner will want an explanation as to why you're shoplifting," he clicked his tongue. "He's not a particularly easy man to deal with so I would behave, really."

For a split second, you thought about struggling. You can't afford to go to jail for this, it would ruin your record. Another thing was that this man was jacked. Easily a hundred kilos of pure muscle.

You were pulled away, anyway, from the lingerie aisle to God-knows-where and you had to admit to yourself, this wasn't the dopamine rush you were looking for - this was the fear of the aftermath of what you've done.

It was what you would consider the walk of shame. The shame and embarrassment you felt each step you took felt worse than what would happen to you?

Would you go to jail? That was your worst option, it would ruin the little reputation that you have. Perhaps, you can bribe the owner? Nah. A person who owns an establishment like this had no need for the spare change you were going to offer.

A feeling of nausea suddenly overcame you as the security guard pushed the double doors that led to what you could only assume were the security rooms open.

"I got a little thief here," the security guard holding my arms smirks as he shoves me forward, rattling you and all the merchandise you tried to fit into your purse.

The sight that greeted you wasn't something that should've bothered you. It looked like a regular room, minus all the equipment and the cameras and monitors.

Your heart sank. They saw you doing what you were doing, most likely waiting until you got far enough where it would be considered robbery rather than petty theft.

"I'll deal with her. Call Jongho for me real quick."

The pit in your stomach was getting bigger and bigger until it threatened to swallow you whole. By far the one that made you utterly terrified was the man sitting on a swivel chair.

You couldn't see him - at least, not yet. The chair was turned against you and so, the only thing visible was its back and the back of the man's hair.

"Of course," the man that pushed me said. "Should I stay or--"

"No. You may go, San."

You stood still, stiffly, at your spot even when the door had closed behind you and you were left with this man. None of you had said anything, especially him. He stayed unmoving on his chair, minus the drumming of his fingers on his lap.

"What do you think should happen to a little thief, such as yourself?" I'm curious," the man spoke out, startling you out of your stupor. "What were you thinking?"

Before you could second-guess your decision to speak out, you stood straight, feigning modesty. "It wasn't my intention---"

"Cut the crap," the man rudely interrupted. He grabbed a nearby pen and tapped it on the monitor beside him. "I'm pretty sure my eyes aren't giving out on me yet."

"I-I know, I wasn't eluding towards that," you stammered. You weren't expecting someone strong-willed. "I-It's not what you think."

"Oh? Taking a black, lacey thong and shoving it deep in your purse wasn't what I thought it was?"

Embarrassment flooded your whole body and the tips of your toes all the way through your nose tingles and shivers, the bad kind. This man was bad news, and you knew it.

All of this over some underwear?

The door behind me had opened once again and another man had entered. He was also a guard, that you could tell, but what set this one apart was his incredible physique. He wasn't as muscular as the guard that dragged you here, but you wouldn't want to go against this one either.

"You called for me? I had to hurry," he said before looking me up and down. "So you're the swiper."

"I did. I'm leaving, tell Seonghwa he's in charge."

Everything happened in slow motion. Your world went into a passing blur when the chair swiveled forward until it was facing towards you. The purse you were holding had long fallen towards the floor.

The bulky guard picked your purse up for you before he walked away. "Roger that." 

The man sitting on the chair had a gleam in his eyes as he stared at you, albeit  being cold and calculating. His elbows were propped against the table and his hands were under his chin. He was attractive, definitely your type.

You had a feeling this man would swallow you whole the moment you were left alone with him.

"Jongho? Wait," the man stopped the other from walking away. A small smirk paints his plump lips. "Lock the door." 

Those three words. They were the beginning of your demise. All of this for a pair of underwear you knew you were never going to wear anyway.

You cleared your throat nervously. "What are you going to do to me? And who are you?"

You had made a point to emphasize the last question. You knew who he was, of course, there was a name plaque that was placed towards the front of the big wooden table. 

'Kim Hongjoong, CEO and Executive Owner'

The man stood up from his chair and began stalking towards you without blinking his eyes and averting them. You could do nothing but stare back at him, it was as if his stare was a weight that prevented you from trying to move from your spot.

He grabbed your purse and took out the thong from it using his index finger. The smirk on his face was borderline demonic. "You must really like these panties for you to potentially go to jail for them," Hongjoong chuckled. "I'm sure you'd look marvelous on them."

Hongjoong suddenly threw the purse on the table, the banging sound startling you, before he dumped its contents all over. "Hey," you protested. "You can't---"

"I can and I will," he side-eyed you, one brow raised. For a second, he calculatingly stared at you, slightly disappointed, before he sighed deeply.

There was no point in defending your case, the evidence was right in front of both of you. You internally cursed. Add this to your other firsts, because this was the first time you didn't know what to do or what to say to get yourself out of a sticky situation.

"I'd ask you if you have receipts for this," he poked his tongue on his cheek obnoxiously. "But you'd probably give me excuses you've told the others before. Tell me, how many?"

You balled your fists, the gesture not escaping Hongjoong's attention. It certainly made his cock twitch inside his pants.  "I-I don't know what you're talking about," you mumbled, your tongue twisting against your will.

He hummed before hopping up a bit to sit on top of the table. He swiped the name plaque off until it clattered on the floor. "Sweetheart, listen to me," he began. "The last thing you want right now is to be left in the same room as me."

You shook your head fervently before he continued. "You will do everything I say and I won't do anything to you, providing that you'll be a good girl for me."

You bowed your head and nodded, tears springing to your eyes not because of the underlying threat in Hongjoong's voice, but because of the shame of how his words had affected you and caused you to clench around nothing. You subconsciously pressed your thighs together to stop the tingling sensation that buzzed around your pussy.

Hongjoong smiled at your discomfort, and he knew that you knew what he was thinking based on how your hands shook as you clutched your shirt around your fists.

"Am I clear enough for you, my sweet?" Hongjoong mocked. "Or would you like me to reiterate?"

"No, no, please," you hiccupped. "I-I get it."

"Splendid. Come here."

You wanted to disobey him, to tell him that he can shove a stick up his ass and leave you alone, but deep inside, you weren't that stupid. You knew this would be the end of you if you did do so.

None of this would have happened, but of course, you knew you were already in a losing battle the moment he had turned his chair towards you and looked you straight in the eye.

"Sweetheart," he chuckled darkly, clicking his tongue in impatience. "Already defiant? I should just call the police."

Somehow, that idea was less appealing to you rather than being stuck in a room with a potential psychopathic liar who wouldn't hesitate to take you down if he chose to.

"Please don't do that," you swallowed thickly. You put your hands up directly in front of your chest in a pleading motion. He sees this and his smirk widens. "Look, I-I'm sorry, okay? I'll just put them back, I don't want them."

Hongjoong tilts his head playfully, yet dangerously. "Oh, you'll be sorry, alright," he sighed mockingly. "I'll make you sorry."

He puts his arm forward swiftly and you yelped when he grabbed your arms and pulled you hastily towards him. A small groan escapes your lips when your forehead hits his hard chest. 

"Easy there, sweetheart, don't hurt yourself," he whispered towards your ear. You could tell he has a smile on his face even when you can't see it.

You hadn't realized that you were positioned in between his legs, your hands on his thighs to cushion yourself from when he had pulled on you. You stiffened, looking at him slowly, tilting your head upwards, only to be met with the nastiest leering of your life.

You jumped a bit when you felt his fingers touch your chin. The touch was light, it could almost be mistaken for something welcoming. "God, you're beautiful," he murmured. "So fucking beautiful."

Instantly, butterflies started fluttering in your stomach. You were undeniably aroused, the air between the two of you was so charged that you could almost taste how electrifying it was.

"How beautiful?"

You bit your lip as soon as the question came out. Hongjoong's thumb pressed on your bottom lip and pulled it out between your teeth. The gesture was so intimate, it made me dizzy.

"I could just eat you up right now," he smirked, his tongue running over his bottom lip. "The question is, would you let me have you, love?"

As arousing this was, you knew that you didn't want this. At least, not like this. "You can't do this," you shook your head, pulling away from his touch.

"No, no, little sweetheart, hold on a second," Hongjoong grabbed your arm back with a cheeky smile. You frowned in response to his hold. "You were this close to giving in, I thought we had a genuine connection here."

This time, you couldn't resist rolling your eyes, completely dropping the damsel act since it clearly wasn’t working on him. Hongjoong's brows rise in intrigue at the obvious change of look in your eyes.

You'd play with him for now. It was better for the situation. A little pretending on your end would ease your tensions. You would roleplay for now.

"I don't think it's part of your job description to hold me against my will like this, you pervert," you sneered, pulling on your arm.

He held tight, however, much to your chagrin. He was definitely intrigued now. Intrigued and rock hard in his pants.

"Does this excite you?" Hongjoong grinned lasciviously.

"Is it supposed to? Especially since," you trailed off a little, making a point to look at him up and down. "I don't see anything that excites me."

Hongjoong tried to stifle his laugh before he completely burst out laughing. You tried not to notice how breathtaking he looked like this - the way his eyes crinkled, his mouth spread out in a wide smile, his cheeks reddened. You were already in control of his perverse nature.

"Oh, sweetheart," he chuckled after his laughter. "This is going to be the best night of our life."

"I only stole thongs."

"Ah, yes," he drawled. You were in for a whiplash when his eyes suddenly darkened. There was no other way to describe it but evil.

"Wait, what are you---"

A squeal escapes your lips when Hongjoong roughly lifts your top. True fear ran through your blood, and he didn't even break eye contact as he was doing it. When the clothes you tried to steal tumbled out of your top, a gruntled sigh can be heard from him.

"Well, what do we have here?" Hongjoong cackled, clearly pleased with how everything was going. "You naughty, naughty girl."

"I-I can explain, please," you stammered pathetically, putting your hands up to fix your top. Hongjoong stared at you expectantly with that mocking expression still on his face and against your better judgment, hot tears started to fill the corners of your eyes.

"And what if I don't want to hear them?" Hongjoong smirked. You weren't expecting it, especially when he started to pout sardonically. "Cry it out, love. You've been a very bad girl, after all."

The tears fell then and there, not because you were ashamed that he had caught you, but because of his very presence, itself. Hongjoong had invoked feelings inside you that overwhelmed you so much, you didn't know what to do with them. But most of all, you were just frightened.

Maybe a quick kick to his balls would distract him enough so you could run away. You weighed your options as you wept, closing your eyes to envision how you'd potentially do it.

Screw it, you thought impulsively. You were never one to ever go down without a fight, and you wouldn't start now.

You stepped back a bit to brace yourself and raised your leg, aiming at his groin to hopefully immobilize him. You saw his eyes widen every so slightly as he watched you try to do what you thought was best at the moment given the situation.

But your shoe didn't touch anything.

"Let me go, you bastard! Ugh! You're going to pay for this," you screeched so loud, your own voice threatened to burst your own eardrums, when Hongjoong held your leg with one hand, squeezing it painfully.

You tried to balance yourself with only one foot and it was hard, but it was better than leaning on Hongjoong again. He smirked before he unceremoniously pushed your leg off, making you lose your balance and completely falling into a heap on the cold, tiled floor on the security room.

"I'd like to see you try," he grinned, baring his teeth like a predator would before it attacked its chosen prey.

And attack he did. You cursed internally as you glared at him from where you were. For someone with a smaller stature, he sure was agile and quicker on his feet than you initially thought possible.

You held back a whimper, clamping your mouth shut, when he leapt from the table down to your level, leaning in with an even wider grin. "Now, this is what I'd like to see," he laughed. "You beneath me like this."

You flushed when his hand cupped his obviously hardened cock and groaned sensually. "It's enough to make a man want to burst right then and there. You want it?"

"You're disgusting," you spat as venomously as you could, even though the sound he made shot straight down your wetness.

"So, you don't think you deserve to be punished?"

Visible shock crossed your features before you could stop yourself. Hongjoong seemed to get immense pleasure from your confused face. Suddenly, he began to lean in closer, and closer, until his face was only a couple of inches away from yours.

"W-Wait, I don't want to k-kiss you," you whined, turning your head away in an attempt to block him from his advances.

He put a finger on your lips and it sent warning signals in your brain. "Silence," he whispered, his eyes drooping and darkened with lust. "Not a sound unless it's you begging for me to have you..."

"P-Please, seriously, I really cannot," another whine sounded from you when he tried to lean again.

This time, annoyance flickered on his face and you gulped when you realized that you had lit the fire in his eyes. "You're testing my patience, sweetheart. I only have so much," he clicked his tongue. "Kiss me. I'll make it good for you."

When you still didn't relent, a growl of anger reverberated around the room. "You're pissing me off," Hongjoong hissed, his crazed eyes widening in ire. "Don't you know that playing hard to get will only land you in more trouble? Get on the table, now."

You didn't dare move, but this time, it was out of fear versus the defiant streak you've been giving him since you arrived in the room. Hongjoong opted to stand beside the wooden table, his eyes intently watching you will your trembling legs to stop.

He's sick, you thought. The way he smiled to himself like he was currently on top of the world made you realize that he was definitely holding back from unleashing all his demons on you. The worst part was that an even sicker part of you wished that he would soon.

In the end, Hongjoong forcefully dragged you to the table, himself, because his impatience and your insubordination was killing him on the inside. The way you struggled against him brought him a horrid sense of satisfaction. He'd have fun breaking you, he'd make sure of it.

"Fuck, my sweet girl," he bit his lip to stop himself from groaning out loud. The way you were sprawled on the table below him made him shiver in delight. "You look so good like this."

"P-Please," you sniffled, struggling once more against his hold, especially against his hand that held your wrists above your head. "I won't do it again, you're scaring me."

"That's because I am trying to scare you," Hongjoong said in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone. He smirked, tightening his hold. "But, you're turned on, aren't you?"

You marveled at the way he stared at your body up and down, gazing upon you as if he was trying to commit your current form into his memory. The things he said had made you angry, but you couldn't deny that he was right - he did turn you on.

But you weren't going to admit it. "I don't know what you're talking about..."

He hummed before he let your wrists go so he could pull you closer to him by pulling you by your waist, your core nestled comfortably at his midsection. "I think you do."

You didn't know what terrified you more - the dangerous position you were in right now, or the way your fright had made his eyes go wild, wide, and crazy with lust and arousal. He resembled something akin to sin, but damn, everybody sins once in a while, don't they?

Shivers erupted on your skin when his hands started to trail all over your body. It got more and more difficult to suppress the sounds that your body wants to make, especially when his hand slowly started creeping higher and higher until it went up your skirt. 

You panicked and jumped. "Stop it! What are you doing?!"

"What does it look like? You can see for yourself, if you'd like," he cockily replied with a small chuckle.

"We can talk about thi---"

"Sure," he rudely interrupted with a wicked gleam in his eyes. You whined when he squeezed your inner thighs. "I'm also sure you'd have a lovely conversation with the police as well."

You looked at him, horrified at his blatant intention with you. "Just let me go," you pleaded. "I-I promise I won't tell anyone about this, Hongjoong, please."

He pushed you back down and you couldn't help but wince in surprise. "No," he grunted out. "My name sounds too good on your lips, baby. Why would I do that?"

You felt his hand reach the band of your underwear and he bit his lips. You unconsciously clench around nothing at the sight of his sinful mouth, your mind suddenly reeling at the thought of what that mouth can do to you. Good things, you bet.

"I'm going to do anything I want with you, think of it as your punishment," he shrugged. "What say you, Y/N?"

"Do I have any other choices? Because it seems like I do not," you frowned, cowering under his impertinent gaze.

"You do, you always will," he shrugged nonchalantly. "In fact, you can choose to leave right now. I'm just saying that staying is your 'get out of jail' card. Pick your poison."

Hongjoong grinned at your pale face. "And when you're in jail, sweetie, you're going to wish you were still with me," he purred.

"Y-You wouldn't dare," you shook your head in denial, your chest constricting at the possibility. "You wouldn't!"

You let out an actual scream when he slammed his palms on the table on either side of your head. He managed to lean down so close, you could feel how fast his heart was beating. You supposed you weren't the only one anxious - excited - at the prospect of what's going to happen.

"I'm sorry, I-I'll just pay for them," you mumbled, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment of how much his roughness was turning you on so much. Still, you had dignity to keep. "I have enough money to pay..."

It was true. It was what made your kleptomaniac tendencies all the more embarrassing. You couldn't take all the credit, however, your family had the money, not you. If you so choose, you could buy every single thing this department store had and you'd still have more money than the average person.

Hongjoong clicked his tongue as he stared down at you. "I know. I'm aware who you are, sweetheart."

You shook your head in denial. "Impossible."

He laughed, his chest vibrating against your own. It had certainly made the room even hotter. "Nothing is impossible, Song Y/N."

He wasn't supposed to know that. Time stood still as you stared at him. The maliciousness in his eyes deepened when he saw how stumped you were.

Your heart almost leapt out of your ribcage and landed itself plush on Hongjoong's hands when he thrust his hips against you. You had to stifle the moans that wanted to push past your lips, there was no way you were giving in to this man. Not like this.

You did, however, gasp when his hand started kneading your breast. "Here's what's going to happen," his voice thickened with impalpable lust. "You are going to call your brothers and tell them you're going to be late."

You whined, wiggling a bit to relieve the pleasurable sensation Hongjoong made you feel, but to no avail. "Stay put," he growled. A yelp resounded from you when he pinched your inner thigh hard. "Go on. Do as I say. I do not want to be interrupted once I start."

The danger that loomed over you terrified you to no end, but you weren't going to stop trying to do something as a last ditch effort. "I-I don't have brothers," you denied, stuttering as you felt his hand squeeze your breast harder while the other hand stoked your legs slowly.

He smiled, but instead of making you feel better, it terrified you even more. It wasn't the smile that was supposed to comfort you, it was the one where he knew you were lying through your teeth.

"A liar on top of being a thief, huh?" Hongjoong chuckled. His hand went higher and higher until he groaned when he felt your damp underwear. "Jeong Yunho and Song Mingi. Yunho, the oldest, was your father's son from his previous marriage, and Mingi is your fraternal twin brother."

You squint your eyes at him. Anger ran thick through your blood. Hongjoong faltered for a split second before he got his composure back. You supposed everyone kept their own secrets.

He leaned down until his lips were touching your ear. You were so taken aback by his knowledge that you couldn't even afford to feel pleasure in it. "And you," he whispered. "The mayor's well kept daughter. So well kept, in fact, that the majority of people don't even know you exist."

He wasn't supposed to know that. Your father kept you hidden not because he doesn't love you. In fact, he loved you too much. He didn't want you to find a man that only approached you as an extension of his position in politics. 

You were done for. If Hongjoong's earlier actions had scared you, you were now dead petrified of this man. "Who the hell are you? That's classified information," you couldn't help but say.

There was something about Hongjoong that made him especially fearful. It was an entirely different domain of dominance you had never seen in any other man you've encountered. One look was all it took for you to unravel yourself for him, and he knew that you knew this.

He ignored your question, opting to lean away from you and lifting both of his hands from your body temporarily. You breathe our a sigh of relief but it gets cut short when he hands you the receiver of his desk phone. He still wanted you to call your brothers.

The shift in his eyes when he held your hand and hastily placed the phone in your hands had you shutting your mouth. He looked absolutely insane and crazed, especially now that he has you where he wanted you. Kim Hongjoong reminded you of an A-Grade psychopath; an insatiably attractive psychopath.

You were definitely a moth to a flame.

"Hello. You have reached the Secretary to the Mayor, Jeong Yunho, and I am unfortunately not available to speak with you right now..."

The familiar voicemail of your older brother had you panicking on the inside. You cursed under your breath. When Yunho said he wasn't available, he meant it. He wasn't someone who you could call back.

"What's the hold up?" Hongjoong asked impatiently, his hands caressing the bands of your underwear, teasing little circles on them as if he was deciding if he should take them off or not.

You ignored him, along with the zings of pleasure down your wetness, and dialed your other brother's number while you imagined ways to smack his head if he didn't pick up the frantic phone call you were---

"Y/N? Are you okay?"

A sigh of relief escapes your mouth before you could stop it. Mingi's voice brought you immediate comfort. "Y-Yeah," you answered. "How'd you know it was me? This isn't my number."

There was a pause on the other line before a sigh resounds. "I-I had a feeling, I was actually going to call you in ten minutes," Mingi said.

Your heart warmed. There was no scientific backing about twin telepathy or something even remotely similar, but you and Mingi could swear that both of you always had that weight pressing on your chest whenever the other was in great distress. Today was one of those times.

Suddenly, Hongjoong leaned over the landline and pressed a particular button - the loudspeaker. You gulped and gave him a questioning look. "W-What are you doing?"

Once again, he ignored you. You would've been fine with it, but when he paused only to look up and smirk, you knew right then and there, that you were done for. He went from caressing to full-on massaging your hips and thighs.

You opted to put the receiver away from your ear and covered it with your palm. Your heart was beating a million miles per second. "I-I'm on the phone---"

"Shhh," Hongjoong hushed you, his stare becoming more and more devilish. "I'm not stopping you from talking, aren't I?"

My entire body was on fire. His entire hand disappeared under your skirt and the first contact he had that was remotely close to your snug heat, you yelped in utter surprise.

"Are you hurt, Y/N? What's the matter?"

You immediately fumbled and uncovered the phone to speak. "Y-Yeah," you covered up your nervousness with a small chuckle of uncertainty. "I-It's just a little hot over here, you know?"

Desire was slowly taking over your body, Hongjoong's gentle prod to spread your legs intensifying the intense craving. You could tell that his patience was slowly waning out, especially when he ripped your underwear clean in the middle.

You purse your lips to stop the moan that threatened to spill out of your lips. The cold air that he blew straight down there had you clutching the wooden table with your blunt fingernails. Your breathing became faster and faster as he started his onslaught.

"I could tell," Mingi laughed breathily. "I could hear your breathing. You've always been the one who sweated the most when the three of us were younger."

Your toes curled in on themselves when Hongjoong wasted no time slipping a finger inside your dripping sex. You couldn't help but hold onto his shoulder for support before you fell over. You blushed, not for the pleasure, but for the shame, not believing that you were getting fingered while on the phone with your brother, no less.

"S-Say, Min-Min," you began, clearing your throat. "I d-don't think I'm---oh!"

Oh, you were sure Mingi knew what was happening. Hongjoong curled his finger up and hit a particular spot that had you reeling from where you were lying. You kicked his shoulder in retaliation. He tilted his head towards you as a challenge.

Your eyes widened when he started thrusting his finger in and out of you without any mercy. The pleasure was eating you alive; a fire that swallowed you in its heat. Your back arched involuntarily at his ministrations as you twisted it to reach for the mute button on the phone, but your arm was grabbed and shoved away.

"You want to be a brat?" Hongjoong scoffed, bringing up his other hand to rub circles on your clit. "Keep talking, I didn't tell you to stop."

You shook your head repeatedly, your eyes begging him to stop. Without breaking eye contact, he turned his head to give you small love bites all over your lower legs. Eventually, he slowed down. He didn't stop, but you'd rather take this.

"You're worrying me, Y/N. I'm not fucking around anymore," Mingi's voice switched from that playful tone you knew to the tone he'd use on you when he's back in business. "Are you hurt or not? I'll come pick you up, where are you?"

Hongjoong laughed under his breath at that and you heard the distinct jingle of the car keys that you knew belonged to Mingi. "N-No! Wait!"

You bit your lip and reprimanded yourself internally. That sounded more defensive than you intended it to. "I'm fine, seriously," you squeaked. "You don't---"

"You know we're twins, right?" Mingi deadpanned. "I know when you're lying."

You released a heavy breath, your hand moving from Hongjoong's shoulder to his head, tangling your fingers in between his luscious hair strands. He buried his head on your inner thigh, giving it more tiny kisses and even tinier sucks, before you felt his tongue hit your wetness.

"B-But I'm n-not though." you whined. You just hoped it sounded like you were complaining rather than it sounding pleasure-filled.

You glanced down and almost combusted. Seeing Hongjoong's eyes closed as he lapped your pussy turned you on more than his mouth did. He explored you in your most intimate places as if he was memorizing the way you tasted in his tongue. You needed to come, and Hongjoong knew it.

"Y/N," Mingi sighed. "It's the heat, I get it, no need to be ashamed. Father won't be mad seeing you needing help once in a while. I don't want you to get hurt..."

You tuned out Mingi's voice, not by choice, however. Hongjoong's mouth was that good. He knew how to turn you on, as much as you hated to admit it, and he already figured out the areas that made you squirm under his hold.

You covered the phone again. "G-Gonna come," you whispered breathlessly. 

Hongjoong hummed, the vibrations making you squirm even more. He pulled away for a second and you almost whined from the loss. "Yeah? Hold it in, sweetheart," he whispered back. "I don't think you want to come right now."

You wanted to protest, to say that this was his fault and he started it, but you knew that he was right even though all you wanted to do right was squirt on his face.

"You know what, fuck this. You're not listening," Mingi's gruff voice snapped me out. "We didn't vouch for your independence only for you to get sick so---"

"Who's sick?"

You went rigid. Your entire body just froze immediately and you went so motionless all of a sudden that even Hongjoong had to stop and look up at you in confusion. You felt his hand rest on your thighs reassuringly. Just like that, your orgasm had completely died down.

"Hand me the phone," you heard your other brother deadpan. God, you could just imagine him with his palms out demandingly.

"Why?" Mingi asked apprehensively.

"Because I said so," the former supplied like it was a well-known fact. Mingi argued further in the background but was stopped immediately. "Need I remind you that you're not even supposed to be here right now? I could easily tell Father."

There was a shuffling sound on the other end before there was a sudden pause before a voice spoke out. "Y/N."

You gulped before answering. "Y-Yunho."

It wasn't as if you didn't like Yunho or you were scared of him. You loved him like you loved Mingi. He was just more rigid, more strict, and more emotionally absent since he was the oldest out of you three. Your father had raised him like this, but even so, and sometimes, you supposed that you were intimidated by him.

"This is not your number, where are you?" Yunho sounded exasperated and you couldn't help but bite your lip. "Are you not in the house?"

"N-No, I-I, uh, I went out for a bit and..."

You stared at Hongjoong, contemplating what to do. He sensed what you were thinking and pressed on your inner thighs. You had to bite your inner cheeks this time, because Mingi was easier to fool than Yunho. Your excuses would not work this time.

"Speak up, little one," Yunho scolded. "If Father found out you sounded like this, even I would not be able to stop him from bringing you back."

Right. As if he didn't sound even more intimidating. Your father wanted to hide you so much, but you felt suffocated in the house. Yunho might have been the way he is, but deep down, you knew he didn't want you to end up like he was raised.

Hongjoong stared at you with this unreadable expression on his face, but you ignored it, opting to clear your throat before speaking up again. "I'm not sick," you explained. "I lost my phone and I'm just having a bit of difficulty finding it."

It was a shitty excuse, and as Hongjoong smirked devilishly in your direction, you had hoped that it would work.

"When did you become so careless?" Yunho chided once more. "Fear not. I shall purchase you a new one immediately."

Hongjoong scoffed, rolling his eyes, but he didn't say anything. "I'm not, and no need," you frowned. "Never mind, I just wanted to let you guys know that I'm going to be home late. That phone had sentimental value to me."

You stared at the said phone that lay near the area where Hongjoong was. That part was truthful at least, and Yunho stayed silent this time. He did give you that phone, after all.

"I cannot stop you from doing what you want, so go ahead," he said. You frowned, heart stinging a little at his nonchalance.

"I'll let you know," you murmured.

As you were about to hang up, Yunho's voice filled the phone again. "Wait."

You raised a brow, a bit surprised, even more so when he said the next few words that'll lighten you up before he hung up. "Take care, little one."

It was short-lived, however. The moment Yunho had hung up, Hongjoong took this opportunity to pounce on you again like a starved animal that had waited too long for its meal to be served.

"W-Wait, you can't do this," you whined, pushing on him again when he resumed what he had started earlier.

"That phone call wasn't supposed to be that long," Hongjoong rolled his eyes, his fingers finding their place inside me again. "Your brothers are fucking weird. One's a potential asshole and the other one has a stick up his ass all the time."

You squint your eyes to contain the fire within them. "Don't talk about them like that!"

"Or what?" Hongjoong challenged. "You're dripping on my hand, sweetheart, I wouldn't talk if I were you. Because I could easily do this."

You shrieked when he went down on you again, but this time, he was sucking on your clit while his fingers still went in and out of you like a piston, his thumb specifically hitting your bud along with his tongue.

"Oh, God, mhm," you couldn't help but groan out, no matter how embarrassing.

"There is no God, Y/N. It's just you and me here," Hongjoong laughed against your pussy. "Finish what you started earlier. Come on my fucking face..."

Yeah, it was definitely embarrassing. You weren't someone who would orgasm fast, if anything, it was difficult to get there most of the time because your other partners just either weren't good, or you weren't that much attracted to them. Yeah, you were messed up from getting cross- eyed and screaming in pleasure.

"Fuck, yeah, give it to me, pretty," Hongjoong laughed maniacally as he stared at your fucked-out face, his fingers not relenting, though his tongue had long stopped from slurping your juices. He'd save it for later.

Frankly, it was the best orgasm of your life so far. You were never going to admit that to him, though. His ego would be the size of this room.

"S-Stop," you whined, pushing his head away weakly. "S-Sensitive..."

"Aww," he sniggered, his lips down turning tauntingly. His fingers went from going in and out to massaging your sweet spot. "But you look so fucking good like this."

"O-Oh," you sighed breathily. "I r-really can't, p-please stop..."

Hongjoong clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes, pulling his fingers out. He looked almost disappointed, but you didn't care.

You stared at the bright light up the ceiling, your chest rising up and down, the realization slowly sinking into you. Your cheeks rivaled the brightness of the light, not believing that you had just let him do whatever he wanted with you like this.

It wasn't like you didn't like it, but you wished it was in another circumstance.

You turned your head to look at Hongjoong, and whilst you were analyzing him, he couldn't help but falter a bit. 

He wasn't kidding when he said you looked pretty, he meant it. In fact, you looked a little too pretty for him just laying down his table, ready to be taken by the plucking. He wasn't impartial to the effect he does to you, he could see how you trembled the longer he stared.

He strode forward with a purpose. This wasn't part of his plan, but he needed to taste you. He just hoped his strides weren't  borderline desperate.

Your eyes widened when he snaked his hand on the back of your neck and lifted it towards his face, and before you could react, his eyes had already closed and his lips had already met yours.

His lips were pillowy soft, just the way you liked it, and it moved so well in sync with yours. It was undeniable how strong our chemistry was as our lips moved to fight for dominance. It ignited a fire within you that unfortunately, nobody else can ever put out anymore.

You could feel his smirk against yours, his tongue entangled with yours, as you tasted yourself from his lips. Combine that with Hongjoong's own taste, you were definitely screwed.

"So I guess this is payment enough," you murmured, pulling away from him just enough to get your point across.

"Think you can come for me again, sweetie?" Hongjoong asked, completely ignoring your statement. 

"W-What?"

To say that you were reeling was probably an understatement on your end. He pulled away momentarily, and you thought he was done, but then he dipped his head down your shoulder after he pushed your top aside. You whimpered when he gave your skin tiny, little kisses so gentle, you forgot what you were initially here for.

"Well?" Hongjoong whispered, his voice wavering. His lips made a small trail for your shoulder to your neck until he was dead set on one spot he knew you'd feel hot all over for. "You're gonna give it to me, right?"

"I-I'm not sure," you spoke in broken moans. 

"It's alright," he cooed. His hands were already back on your inner thighs. "Come on, baby, I'll make you feel so good..."

He didn't even give you a chance to reply. His fingers were already tracing your slit, his little groans of pleasure at the wet sounds your pussy was producing had your mind spinning. You were so lost into him; it was as if he had literally mesmerized you into his bidding.

"Ah, oh, that f-feels, ah," you stammered helplessly against his touch.  His fingers adeptly played with your pussy, alternating between pushing inside you ever so slightly and rubbing delicious circles on your clit.

"Yeah?" Hongjoong moaned softly, his kisses on your neck getting softer and softer as if he was making the sweetest love with it. "This cunt is mine, hmm?"

"Wait, I-I didn't say tha---"

"You will now," he gave your neck more sensual kisses. His warm breath hitting your skin made you extremely dizzy. His hand trails on your arm up and down even more sensually. "Ah, come on, baby, mmm, say it..."

Your groin was on fire, the tingling sensations that Hongjoong's coaxing was altering your brain chemistry all in all. You whined quietly, tilting your neck to meet his lips subconsciously. This was highly dangerous for you; exceedingly addicting.

His lips had migrated to your jawline, rendering you down to a slave to his desires. He doesn't put his fingers inside you, however, and you weren't sure if you liked that or not.

"I'll help you. Repeat after me, yeah?" Hongjoong whispered, his voice almost inaudible. "Say, 'I'm all yours,' it's easy enough."

You tried opening your mouth to say something, but nothing came out                                                                        when you tried to pry the words out of your mouth. He clicked his tongue, teasing you by slowly biting on your earlobes.

"Say it, don't be shy," he commanded softly. "I'm all yours."

"I-I'm all y-yours..."

Shame washed all over you the moment you said the words. He made a sound of approval, but he wasn't done yet.

"Good, good," he goaded, laughing breathily. "Say it again..."

"I'm all yours---"

"Daddy," he insisted, finally pulling away to look you straight in the eye. "Say you're mine, baby."

Goosebumps rose from your arms all the way to your shoulders, leaving you with shivers along their wake. "I'm all yours, d-daddy," you squeaked pathetically.

An animalistic grin stretches across his entire mouth. "That's right, you're going to give me my pussy, right?"

When he put it like that, you grasped how hypnotized you were with his words within a couple of minutes. Realization washed over you and your eye contact with him breaks, much to Hongjoong's chagrin. You both knew his spell was broken.

"Is this what you do to all the people who shoplift? Because this is wild," you frowned deeply, pushing away from him by holding onto his shoulders for support so you wouldn't fall off. 

He smirked, shaking his head. "No. Just you."

"Somehow, I find that difficult to believe," you chuckled without any humour in it. You were playing with fire by egging him but you couldn't help. You wanted to know.

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes on you, clearly annoyed with your accusations. "You seem to be following me willingly just fine earlier, sweetheart," he scoffed. "If I really wanted to, I'd make you do way more than this."

"Wasn't earlier enough? I don't believe this," you shook your head in disbelief.

"Well, you better believe it, because you still have to pay the price," he chuckled darkly. "Just not with money."

Hongjoong pushed your hands away from him and walked backwards from where you were sitting until his back hit the wall across from you so he could lean against it. Your jaw hung from his implication, the nerve of this bastard!

He nodded towards your forgotten purse. "You know what I've been thinking the whole time, sweets? I wonder how good you'd look with those on."

You blushed furiously, the scenarios of what he's implying playing through your head. The lingerie you stole was very skimpy. "Good, I'm sure," you mumbled thoughtlessly.

"Oh? Prove it."

It began to dawn on you what exactly he wanted you to do. You had hoped that you were wrong, but alas, this man in front of you was as dangerous as he was unpredictable.

You didn't respond. He stared at you with unfiltered lust, waiting to see what you were going to do.

"And if I chose not to do it?"

Hongjoong's brows drew together. "You know exactly what's going to happen," he sighed, irritated. "It's not going to be difficult, I already tore your panties off of you earlier, anyway."

His mouth was scandalous, too. However, this was a better alternative than the horrible life that was jail. It was a losing battle so you closed your eyes, and with a deep sigh, you started to unbutton your clothes until your top was completely off along with your skirt, leaving you only in your undergarments.

Since you had no panties anymore, your pussy was fully exposed in front of him. Redness covered your entire face and neck at your nudity, but this was a small price to pay so he wouldn't call the cops.

Hongjoong wanted to bust inside his pants right then and there. The sight of your shaved pussy filled his mind with animalistic urges. He held himself off, at least for now, to savour your nakedness. He'll take his time claiming you soon.

He crossed his arms as he watched you take your clothes off. There wasn't any expression on his face whatsoever and the only indication that he was enjoying this more than he was letting on was the growing tent in his pants.

"Do you want me to put them on for you?" Hongjoong raised a brow, the tone of his voice shifting from lighthearted to angry. You quickly shook your head. "Alright, hurry up before I do it myself."

You avoided eye contact, opting to look on the floor, and bit your lips in nervousness. Slowly, your hands went backwards to the hooks of your bra, but they were shaking with so much anxiety that even if you tried, unhooking them became challenging.

"Don't piss me off, sweetheart. I don't have all day," he warned, tone clipped and irate. "Take them off now."

You tried to open your mouth to reason with him, but all he did was glare at you so hard with an anger so intense, it almost disintegrated you from your spot.

"Take them off!" Hongjoong yelled. You jumped from your spot when he banged his fist on the wooden panel walls of the office. It effectively rattles the entire room and your insides.

After trying again, it finally unhooked and soon enough, your breasts were spilling out of your bra, but before they were fully exposed, you hastily grabbed the lingerie set and put on the bra that was included in it.

Next were the panties. You started putting them on quickly and that's when you noticed that they were crotchless. You paled, that would mean your hole would be fully exposed to Hongjoong's desires. You slowly craned your head towards his direction, heart beating fast.

His eyes were hooded, cloudy with the unmistakable need to completely dominate you. His breathing became laboured, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed down the saliva building up in his mouth with how delectable you looked.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath. He always knew you looked good, and he knew that you'd look even better with the lingerie on, but goddamn, was he not expecting you to look this good.

He needed to be inside you. He needed to have you. He needed you.

He cleared his throat loudly. "Come on, give daddy a little twirl, love," he coaxed, voice hoarse, as he twisted his index finger in a twirling motion. "I wanna see that perky ass."

"But I don't want to do it for you," you frowned, shaking your head to cover up the fact that you were getting insanely turned on from him making you call him daddy.

"That's just too bad, isn't it, sweetheart?"

You had no idea where he was getting his audacity, but you weren't going to question it any further. You reckon it was from owning this whole damn mall, but still.

It's an absolute mess, isn't it? There was no use denying it, a sick part of you was extremely attracted to the even sicker man that was Kim Hongjoong. Your mind was telling you to run away, your heart being the one to pull you back, but your pussy was telling you to please him with whatever you have.

Reluctantly, you turned around, twirling like a little doll, just like he wanted. You were beet red with embarrassment, and you heard his groan of approval from behind you as he stared at your plump behind.

"Been working out, huh?" Hongjoong teased, whistling salaciously to emphasize his point.

"Maybe," you murmured. "Are you going to let me go after? I-I just want to go home."

"Maybe," he bit back cryptically.

Despite yourself, you couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at how ridiculous this all was.

The mischief in that Cheshire-like smile that was bigger than anything else you've ever seen and it had almost given you the shivers. You were glad he was far away from you across the room, you didn’t want him in your face. 

He screamed authority - you weren't sure if you hated it down to hell or loved it towards the high heavens. 

You felt self-conscious all of a sudden, your hands moved themselves to cover what little skin you could. Hongjoong tilts his head in your peripheral vision, but chooses not to say anything as he watches you squirm from where you were standing.

Holes were the only thing missing on your body by how hard he was staring. Your almost nudity wasn't bothering you this time, though. He was probably staring at all your flaws and imperfections and it worried you more than anything else.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Hongjoong mumbled, his brow raised in question.

You frowned. "What?"

"You're fucking pretty," he clarified crudely without any ounce of shame, licking his bottom lip slowly, dragging the wet muscle seductively. "The prettiest girl I've ever seen in my entire life. You really are."

A laugh bubbles out of your chest with said chest jiggling unnecessarily and catching Hongjoong's sharp gaze. "Do you honestly expect me to believe anything that comes out of your mouth?"

"No," he shrugged nonchalantly. Your frown deepens when he gets to his feet and starts to walk forward. "Which is why I'm going to show you," he pauses to raise his hand. "Come to me, love."

It was a losing fight and deep down, you knew it. Still, you didn't move, not because you were trying to resist, but because this time, you felt genuine uncertainty for the first time since entering this room almost an hour ago by now.

You gulped. "A-Are you going to...?"

"Mhhm," he replied faster than you'd like. He makes grabbing motions by closing his fists and opening them. "I'm getting impatient."

You avoided eye contact with him. It was a mistake on your end because the moment your eyes left his, was the moment Hongjoong set out his attack and dug his claws onto your skin.

Your scream was cut off when he turned you around and pushed you down the table so now you were leaning against the edge of it, ass in air. You didn't mean to be that loud, you were just so surprised by the sudden jerk of your body.

"W-Wait---"

There was a shushing sound from behind you and you were about to turn your head to look but you felt his hand on the back of it and pushed down. "H-Hongjoong, hold on---"

You didn't mean to moan when he roughly pulled your panties all the way down to your feet in one motion, and just like that, your entire behind was exposed to him to do whatever he wanted with it. That just left you with your bra, which surprisingly, he didn't touch.

A whimper slips past your lips when you hear the telltale crinkling of a condom wrapper being opened before you see the wrapper being carelessly thrown away somewhere, of course without its contents. That, alone, was enough to make your heart beat out of tune.

You felt his clothed chest press onto your back when he leaned forward, his lips teasing the back of your ears. "O-Oh, ngh," your garbled moans sounded when you felt his wet fingers prod your empty hole, lubing it from the outside.

It suddenly reminded you of your deepest, darkest secret - you were always into the roleplay aspect of sex. It was something you've only told one person before and now that it's happening, you weren't sure on how to react.

"Show's over," his voice was harsh and laboured as he whispered from behind you. Your voice was caught in your throat when you felt the tip of his cock press onto its goal. "Or is it?"

You haven't even internalized what he said yet when he held your hips tightly and started to enter you, his lust evident with how firm his shove was. You both moaned in sync, especially when you accidentally squeezed him in. 

He was cursing under his each with each thrust forward and when he had finally burrowed deep inside you, he paused for a little so as to not overwhelm you. 

Try as he might, you just felt too good for him to preserve his self-control. You weren't faring any better, his cock hit you just right. If anything, you were worried that the pleasure might drive you into incoherence. You didn't want to embarrass yourself any further.

You felt completely stuffed, and you couldn't help but moan his name out loud. "H-Hongjoong..."

You heard him groan in pleasure. He pulled out a bit only for him to enter again carefully. It was almost agonizing, you could feel every inch of his cock creating the friction you were craving for since you had laid eyes on him.

"It's not so bad is it?" Hongjoong groaned, reaching underneath you to play with your swollen nipples. "Fuck, you feel my cock deep inside you, huh?"

You didn't respond, not giving him the satisfaction he wanted yet. Ripples of pleasure spreads from your core all throughout your body as Hongjoong impales you with his thick cock over and over again, not too fast, just enough for the both of you to be a sweaty, panting mess.

At this point, you couldn't care less if there were people who could hear from outside. The only sounds in the room were the table creaking from all the thrusting Hongjoong was doing in and out of you, the slapping of skin to skin, and the moans you let out as your pussy took all the beating from Hongjoong's insatiable lust.

"You just make me so fucking horny, sweetheart, ah," he growled, thrusting particularly deep this time. "I wanna stay in this pussy forever, what do you think?"

"F-Fuck, oh, s-stop doing t-that," you panted, not able to properly produce words from Hongjoong's unrelenting thrusts.

"What? This?"

His hips pistoned into you so hard, that the table edges were scratching your stomach from too much friction. You wouldn't be surprised if tomorrow your skin there would be so dry.

Hongjoong seemed to take notice of this. Reluctantly,  he pulled out of you and for a second, you almost whined at the sudden loss of his cock filling you, but then he started to carry you to another past of the room where a couch lay waiting.

He hastily took off his clothes after laying you down, and after sprawling on top of your body, he thrust back into you once more in one fluid motion. He growled at the sensation, the sound of it making you even wetter than you already were.

"Yeah, oh baby," he hissed, this time not holding back on his animalistic desires, as he fucked you onto the couch. "Kiss me."

Your lips found his and you didn't hesitate to scream into his mouth as he kept burying his cock deeper and deeper inside you, if that was possible. Your entire body was on fire and the only thing that could quench your growing heat was Hongjoong, himself.

"God, your tits look so fucking great in these," his mouth pulled away to latch on your soft flesh, eliciting the dirtiest noises from you that you weren't aware you could produce in the first place.

"Feels good," you couldn't help but let out. "A-Ah, Hongjoong..."

"Yeah?" Hongjoong breathed out. "Want me to go faster or slower?"

"I-I don't know," you moaned out truthfully. You weren't sure if that answer was for his question or an admission on your end. Sweat was starting to trail down from your temples down to your chin.

"It's okay," he shushed. "How about you close your eyes and let me do all the work?"

Suddenly, he was taken aback when he thrust forward. He could've sworn he felt you fuck back onto him . It was all the confirmation he needed. His hand meanders towards the back of your head then pulls it towards him so his lips were against your forehead.

The gesture was so intimate and you reigned yourself from giving in to him, but when he started whispering your name like a mantra, you failed in the attempt.

"Y/N, shit," he growled over and over again. "I stand corrected," he groaned lowly. "You look beautiful, prettier, taking my cock like this."

You surrendered to the pleasure and closed your eyes. His cock surging in and out of your pussy as his other hand cupped your face tenderly was a juxtaposition. Your body went from taking a fucking to lifting your hips up to meet his as you helplessly squirmed underneath him, soft moans of bliss escaping your lips.

Suddenly, his fingers prodded your lips open. On instinct, you opened your mouth to accommodate him. "Ah," he chuckled lazily. "There she is..."

He drew his cock back the same time his fingers in your mouth did, paused, and drove back - both his cock and fingers - inside your holes just as deeply. You met his eyes as he looked down on you. They burned, this whole room could burn and you still wouldn't look away.

"Just like that, sweetheart, keep looking at me while I'm fucking you," he grunted, his face getting faster, sloppier. "Fuck, look at you, taking me so well..."

You tried to moan a protest, but there was a sick satisfaction that overcame his features when he saw that you couldn't speak since he was plugging your mouth. "It's true though," he panted, sighing in intense pleasure. "You just take it so fucking well, sweetheart."

One angle in his thrusting made you bite on his fingers, your eyes widened, whimpering because you didn't want to hurt him, but all he did was shush you, whispering words of reassurance that of how you couldn't possibly hurt him.

"H-Hongjoong, a-ah, fuck, I-I wanna come," you practically begged, your hands moving to his shoulders and squeezing to make your point known.

"Not yet, sweetie, not yet," he grunts. He, then, moved his hands so now they were fully cupping your whole face. He aligns it to his and now that you were staring directly into his eyes, you couldn't help but let out a small smile.

You felt him twitch inside you and you couldn't help your giggle even though you bit your bottom lip to stop the sound. In turn, Hongjoong let out a mixture of his own laugh and his grunts as he plunged into you in long, deep strokes instead of the rapid, shallow ones he's used to doing.

"You okay?" Hongjoong voiced out after a while, trying to stop his smirk as he looked at your fucked out face.

"Mhhm," you moaned out. "I-I just---"

"You want to come?"

You nodded so hard, you felt your neck strain at the sudden force. "P-Please, Joongie?"

He almost busted at your small, whiny voice as you begged for your orgasm. God, if the image of you underneath him as your greedy pussy swallowed his cock wasn't enough, you just had to sound as equally good as you looked. You were definitely set to torture him. 

"Goddamn it, Y/N, how am I supposed to last like this?" Hongjoong's voice was borderline whiny as well, his climax creeping in on him. "Good girls don't come until I tell them to."

You could have cried in frustration. "I'll be good, I'll be so good, daddy," you hiccupped, your tears welling up in your eyes. Safe to say, you were into him just as much as he was into you - literally on his end.

"I know, you already are, my sweet girl," he said. "You're such a good girl, yes? Come on, say it."

"I'm d-daddy's good girl," a lone tear falls from your eye. "I'm y-your good girl, Joongie..."

The little grunts he let out almost sent your vision black as his strokes got faster, sloppier, his hips pistoning onto yours, the sound of skin slapping against each other echoey all over the room, in your ears. You were so deep in this, and the thing was, you never wanted to get out.

"I'm going to fuck you into this couch, baby, and then I'm going to fuck you some more after we're done..."

"Y-You have to make me come first," you pouted even when your sight was beginning to get hazy from all the pleasure that Hongjoong was willing to indulge you in. 

Hongjoong laughed, a real laugh, his chest bubbling with unspoken happiness despite all the lust that clouded his entire being. "Oh, I will," he leaned in, burying his face on your neck. "I'm going to count to three, I want you to come in one, can you do that for me, sweetheart?"

You nodded without hesitation and Hongjoong swore you never looked more beautiful than you did right now. He kissed your neck in acknowledgement before he completely let go of all his inhibitions and began to actually fuck you hard and fast.

"Three," he pounded away so forcefully, the couch began to move from its spot backwards inch by inch, and you loved every second of it. 

He grabbed your throat for a moment, squeezed, and suddenly let go. It cut off your screams as your oxygen paused for a second. He did that over and over again until you got lightheaded. Somehow, that intensified the pleasure his cock gave you.

"Ah! Joongie, fuck, oh, oh, fu---"

He kissed you passionately, the movement of his lips bruising yours, matching the way his hips moved to its pace. Both of your moans mixed in with one another, and it was nothing short of filthy.

"Two," he ground onto you, the number almost melting into nothingness. He continued to kiss you, as if he was pouring everything he couldn't tell you into the fiery sensation of him sucking your soul out through your mouth.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, moaning as his cock went impossibly deeper into you, and crossed them. Your nails repeatedly dragged across his skin, leaving angry marks on them that you'll, for sure, savour later. You were already proud of them.

"I'm such a w-whore for you, daddy," you let out, something you didn't intend on doing, but for some reason, it just slipped out of you.

Hongjoong moaned into your mouth, your lips drowning and swallowing the sounds. He was whining and whimpering wildly as his hips stuttered and chased his high, using your body as nothing more than a tool for his own pleasures.

Fuck it. There was no going back from this anyway. "Are you going to come inside me?"

"Yeah, I'm going to fucking fill you up," he growled, his sweat dripping onto my skin. He pressed his forehead with mine, forcing eye contact. "Do you want me to come inside you? Is that what you want?"

You bit your lip so hard, it almost bled, but you nodded regardless. "Y-Yeah..."

A growl sounds out from the back of his throat as he pulls out from you temporarily. He slips the condom off from his hard cock and tosses it at the nearby rubbish bin, and when he entered back inside you, he couldn't help the loud moan that resonated from his mouth.

"Fuck, baby," he whined like he was in pain. "You feel so fucking good, damn it, I should've fucked you raw like this from that start, fuck."

It didn't take long for either of you to get to that peak you were both chasing since the beginning. Your stomach tightened, your walls were beginning to constrict and flutter against Hongjoong's cock, and he felt it. Fuck, did he feel it.

"One. Come with me, baby, please," he pumped faster and harder until you couldn't take it anymore.

It triggered that delicious feeling that you've been suppressing all this time. It was slow, but when you reached it, the world around you exploded. Your own screams were all you heard, not even Hongjoong's loud growl as he erupted his thick release deep inside you.

"Y/N, fuck," he panted, thrusting a few more times until both of our orgasms had subsided. He grabbed your chin and squeezed hard as he demanded eye contact. "Look at me when you're coming, my love. Look at me."

It was over as soon as it started, but the sensation will last you for a while. You were thoroughly fucked - thoroughly used - and you liked it like that. But only because it was Hongjoong.

It felt right for him, there was nothing more in this moment that felt as right as letting go in you akin to an animal that just wanted to possess. One final pulsating from his cock has him reeling, and he wouldn't tell you just yet, but he was definitely more blown out than you were.

He pushed your hair out of your face and looked at you. "You okay, love?" Hongjoong asked with a small frown, a worried one. "I think that was the roughest we've done it so far---ah fuck, I came too much."

Your soft moan hits Hongjoong's ears as he pulls out. Thick, sticky cum immediately oozes out from your stretched out pussy and Hongjoong could feel himself salivating at the tempting scene in front of him.

You giggled as you stared at him, and even though he literally just rocked your world, you gave him a wide smile despite the haze. "Like what you see?"

Hongjoong nodded wordlessly and you couldn't help but lightly smack him back into coherence. "What? I do," he defended himself with a small pout. "You look so good covered in my cum, sweetie."

You bit your lips when he dipped a finger in your pussy, covering them in his own release, and started writing something on your stomach as if your skin was the canvas and his cum was the paint.

You soon realized that he was writing his own name. When he ran out of 'writing material,' he would dip back in for some more. Redness coated your entire neck and creeped up all the to your scalp.

"Mine," he murmured, kissing the dried up cum on your tummy that had his name. "Property of Kim Hongjoong."

He sits straighter and beckons you to do the same. You did as told without missing and beat. He grabbed your hand and gave it a small kiss before he grabbed his dress shirt and put you in it, careful when he started looping your arms on the sleeves and buttoning it until you were completely covered, your torso, at least.

He pulled you close until you were sitting on his lap, your head plush onto his chest. Aftercare with your boyfriend was always better than the sex, itself, every single time. "Thanks, Joongie," you smiled.

"Did you have fun? Was it everything you wanted?" Hongjoong asked sheepishly. "I didn't know if I was too mean or something."

"No, no, it was good," you hummed softly as his fingers played with your hair. "I suppose we need to talk."

There were a lot of things you wanted to talk about, starting from this whole ordeal. Hongjoong and you had never really explored the idea of sex outside the bedroom, much less the idea of incorporating roleplaying in it to spice things up.

Hongjoong could say the same thing. He didn't mean for it to go that far. He saw the way you twitched when you entered the room for the first time, and he couldn't help the surprise that flickered in his eyes. 

You stared at your underwear, one that Hongjoong had actually gifted you a while back, that lay next to the thongs you wanted to take home. You were about to say something, when the door jiggled, signifying that someone was trying to open it.

Hongjoong tightened his hold on your waist as the sound of keys jingling the doorknob. He held your head down until it was completely leaning on his chest as he parted your hair to cover the rest of your face.

"Hey, boss, I got the package secured---oh? Am I interrupting something?"

Even though your face was obscured, you could still see through them. A man not much taller than Hongjoong close the door behind him. He had this briefcase with him, but that's not what scared you.

"Wipe the fucking blood off your face, Woo. It's very unsightly," Hongjoong ordered, his hand massaging your tense shoulders. "You're scaring her. And stop eyeing her legs before I shoot you between the eyes."

Wooyoung's features twisted in amusement before it morphed into realization. "Ah, that's her," he chuckled, lifting a briefcase into the air, one you didn't notice he had. "Well, anywho, I'll leave this here, then."

He places the said briefcase on the floor near Hongjoong's feet before he sauntered out from where he entered from. "And tell her everything before you pussy out again," Wooyoung chuckled, holding the door.

"Get the fuck out," Hongjoong deadpanned. 

The door finally closes as a cackling laughter sounded from behind it. You finally lifted your head up and gave him a very curious look. "What's in the briefcase, Joong? W-What are you doing?"

You had so many questions and it just further confused you the more you spent time here. Hongjoong stared at you for a moment before he got you off his lap to grab the briefcase.

"Weapons," he murmured, snapping the lock open before lifting it to reveal, indeed, weapons of various kinds and sizes. You weren't privy to what they were, after all, you needed to use these to protect yourself from Yunho and your father's political enemies.

"And you're smart, sweetie, I think you can gather what's happening," he continued. He held your hand tightly in his, eyes filled with worry. "I didn't want you to find out this way, honey. I was going to tell you."

Indeed, he was right. Wooyoung calling him boss, the blood on said man's face, a briefcase full of weapons - they were all telltale signs of mafia activity. 

You didn’t want further details, but you couldn’t help but ask. “A-Are those things you handle on a daily basis?”

Hongjoong hesitated before he took a deep breath. “No,” he shook his head. “We do the usual drugs route as well. Listen, my sweet love, I-I’m sorry I never told you. I just want to have to excuse my absence a lot, and I know that’s shitty, so I’m sorry again.”

It all made sense. You genuinely loved him, but there were times where you were curious about him. There were many things he never told you, many times that he'd never tell you where he'd been. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders at the revelation.

"There's a lot of things I don't know, Joongie," you sighed. "I didn't even know my own boyfriend owned a mall, first of all."

His hold on your hand tightened. "A-Are you mad?"

You looked at him in confusion. "No, I'm not," you said, lifting your hands to kiss them. He visibly relaxes in your touch. "I was just wondering why you, my boyfriend of almost a year now, never told me, that's all."

"The same reason why you gave me a fake last name and never told me that you were the mayor's daughter," he shrugged. 

It made a lot of sense, but you weren't even mad at him to begin with, and you wanted him to know that. "About that," you chuckled sheepishly. "How did you even know about that? And since when? Mingi did a fantastic job covering my tracks."

"He did. If he weren't your father's son, I'd actually recruit him," he laughed. "And I found out by accident."

You urged him to go on. "I was going to give you this mall as a surprise, actually," he murmured. "I had Jongho look up if you had assets that would clash with the ownership, and I guess that's how."

You couldn't hold back your surprise. "You were going to do that for me?"

"Yeah, I was," he said. He paused, gathering the words he needed to say to you. "So you'd stop shoplifting."

You paled, fumbling for an excuse to tell him because as good as this all ended, it was still embarrassing for Hongjoong to actually find out this way. "I-I can explain."

"No need," he chuckled, kissing you on the forehead. "I already knew. Why do you think you've never been arrested? Your charm can only go so far, sweetheart. And your stealth is questionable."

You lightly smacked him on the chest and he took this opportunity to grab you and wrap his arms around you. "I've been bribing people for months now, for you," he mumbled. "But you need therapy, sweetie. I can't cover your ass the entire time, and I don't ever want to see you behind bars."

"I-I know, Joong," you murmured in embarrassment and pure shame. You didn't think he'd found out, and now that he does, you were so ashamed of your own skin. A question sticks out in your head. "D-Did you plan today?"

"No," he denied. "I wasn't supposed to be here. Seonghwa decided to oversee that deal we had that involved this," he tapped the briefcase. "So I stayed. Imagine my surprise when I saw you targeted my mall."

"I see," you muttered under your breath. Still, your curiosity wasn't satiated. "But why a mall, though? You're literally head mafia, you could have everything you want."

He chuckled at your question. "Because," he grabbed something from the nearby table, a small remote, then pointed it at the wall behind his office desk. "Nobody would ever suspect a mall to be another hideout."

A small 'click' could be heard and your mouth dropped when a hidden door revealed itself across you. "Holy shit, Kim Hongjoong, you're so fucking hot for this," you said without thinking. He laughed out loud at your statement. "But knowing all this, do you still want to be with me?"

Hongjoong's brows furrowed, distress clear on his face. "Of course, I do," he confirmed, voice laced with confusion. "Why?"

"Because I'm the mayor's daughter," you frowned, sighing deeply. "My dad's literally your enemy."

His face lit up in recognition with the thought and you thought that was going to mull over it, but then he leaned in and pulled you into a tender hug. "We'll figure it out, love, don't worry," was all he said before his hand smooths out the back of your hair gently. "I've known for a while, and I'm still here."

"I suppose so," you hugged back. "And for the record, I'm not mad. Not at all, so don't worry. I just want to go home right now, I'm tired."

"About that therapy," he said, still hugging you like he won't ever hug you again. It was endearing. "We have a resident doctor, Dr. Kang Yeosang. I trust him and he's a good friend of mine, would you like to consult him?"

"Do you think that would help?"

"Yes. But it's up to you, love. I can't force you if you don't want to, but I would feel better if you did. Promise me you won't do it again?"

"I promise," you said truthfully. You did need to change, after all, this wasn't morally good to begin with.

"Thank you, my love," he murmured. "So you'll do it?"

"I'll do it," you agreed, pulling away to look at him. "I'll do it for you."

He smiled, gently cupping your face. He had a thing for doing that. "Good girl," he whispered. "But do it for you, not for me. I'd still love you even if you robbed a whole damn store. After all, you already stole my heart." 

"My God, Joong, that was so dry," you giggled loudly. "I'm going to get dressed so we can go now, okay? I really need to shower."

He smirked, burying his face on your neck. "You know I meant what I said earlier."

You were confused. "What?"

He licked a stripe up your neck and it sent shivers through you. "That I want to fuck you some more after we were done here, my sweet girl. We have all night..."

You were already imagining all the things you and him would do the entire day, maybe you'd give him something in return after today.

It definitely wasn't what a sweet, good girl would do.

Dividers from: @cafekitsune ❤️❤️❤️

[yung-notorious]

ALWAYS SOME NEW SHIT, AIN’T NEVER THE USUAL! I FUCK YOU SO GOOD TILL I HAVE YOU DELUSIONAL! - ♡

— your roommates are gone, the apartment is yours, and you're laid up in bed with somethin' dangerous. all you need is him, his hands, and a little time to make the most of it. — feat. satoru gojo

+18 MDI. WARNINGS. baddie!reader x college!gojo, excerpt from never lose my chapter 8, porn with plot, situationship, morning sex, that good 'ol sunday dick, protected sex, dirty talk, body worship, sub/dom undertones, trust & boundaries, slight cum play, squirting, riding, fingering, voice kink, gojo kink(?), edging & milking, overstimulation, gojo’s character may be questionable but his stroke game is A1. notes. word count 5.8K, apart of a larger body of work but can stand alone as a one-shot. you can read the full chapter here: A03 & master post. title: lick me - sexyy red ft. lil baby

You knew Satoru was bullshitting when he said he’d be on the phone for a few more minutes. He’s been chatting away for an extra thirty, and you’ve already gone through your entire Instagram feeds stories and now the Tiktok burnout is starting to set in.

Exhausted from doom scrolling, you chuck your phone somewhere across the bed to snuggle deeper into his embrace, resting your head against his chest. You don’t have a single fucking clue what’s being said anymore with his ear now pressed against the phone, but whatever it is definitely isn't related to earlier’s conversation. You think you catch mention of the school’s football team and the names of people you don’t recognize, but at this point, you’re too out of the loop to care. He’s lucky you actually like being around him, because had this been anyone else you’d probably kick them out telling them to go the fuck home.

What’s even more surprising is that despite being bored out of your mind, chilling with him in bed while he talks on the phone is strangely confronting. You’ve had your share of intimate moments at your young age, but you’ve never simply laid up like this with a guy before. It’s domestic as hell— whatever the girls online call it— but you’re not pushing it away. 

Resting your head on his chest as he rubs your shoulder, you let the rhythm of his voice wrap around you like a warm blanket. There’s this cool boyish charm that comes through as he talks— a side of him you’ve caught glimpses of only a few times when he’s speaking to his friends. He’s more commanding and animated, yet somehow still a relaxed version of himself all together, nearly a polar opposite of how he is with you.

And you know what? That’s exactly how it should be, you’re not the one to be treated like a homie. And even though his friends do annoy the hell out of you when they’re together, seeing him be himself with them is undeniably attractive and lowkey turning you on. 

Shifting over onto your stomach, you tuck an arm behind his neck, hooking a leg around his waist, letting your free hand slowly trail down his body feeling him up. Stopping to rest your hand on the inside of his thigh, you look up, waiting for a reaction. 

When you don’t get one— he’s still chatting away— you decide to take it a step further, slowly creeping your hand up to cup his balls, palming his bulge. 

It only takes a couple good rubs for you to feel his dick harden beneath you. Feeling bold, you wrap a tight fist around his length stroking him through his briefs. All it takes is a couple tight ones for his thighs to widen up and you take that as permission to go further. 

Slipping a hand under his waistband to squeeze his dick, you watch him bite his lip, still ignoring you as he lazily stares up at the ceiling. He can try to act all cool and unbothered all he wants, but you know exactly how to melt his ice.

Taking charge, you rub your thumb carefully around his slit, your acrylic nail getting caught in the fabric of his briefs with each pressing circle. It doesn't take much effort before you’re feeling the wetness of his pre sticking to the pad of your thumb as you. Pausing to collect up what you can to wet his shaft, you grip your hand back around his length giving him more quick strokes.

Feeling more daring, you connect your lips to his neck, slowly peppering soft, wet kisses along his skin as you continue working your hand around his dick and balls. You’re finding some sort of fun in all this really, feeling him up in every which way you please while he lays beside you trying to act like he’s not bricked the hell up. 

You can hear every grunt that gets stuck in his throat and cracking of his toes each time you press against the underside of his tip. It’s kind of funny how you’re unsure who’s more of a slut now: you for daring to do this, or him for letting it happen while he’s on a call. Y’all are both some trouble! 

Just as you’re about to go for a gentle bite on his ear you feel the deep bass of his voice against your lips. 

“Choso— Choso…bro I’ma let you go…I’ll try to be over there later tonight. Alright, I'll talk to you later. Bye.” He ends the call to lean over— your hand still tightly wrapped around his dick— to drop his phone onto the nightside with a loud thud.

Unfortunately for him, no matter how hard he tries to maintain his composure, it’ll be his own body that will betray him every single time. Men, they’re so fucking weak. You probably could rob him with a fleshlight.

Falling back onto the mattress, he turns to give you a look before opening his mouth, and of all the things you expect him to say, it definitely isn’t, “Why’d you interrupt my phone call?”

“Because you talk too much.” You say smart, releasing him to wipe your hand clean on his briefs along the side of his hip. Sitting up on your elbow to rest your cheek in your hand, you hover above his face to stare down at him challengingly, awaiting his response. This could go one or two ways, but you know for sure either way ends with you getting fucked. 

"All I needed was a few minutes.” He murmurs, his hand glides up your chest stopping just below your neck before gently tracing your jawline with his thumb. 

“I gave you that, now I want your attention.” You cock your head. “Did you forget where you were at?”

"You have it— so now what’s up?" He asks, his tone still soft, eyes locked on yours as he tilts your chin up just as your hand slides over to squeeze his thigh.

“You know what I want…” You breathe, inching closer to his bulge. 

“Yeah?” He lets go of your chin, trailing his hand down your chest. “You don’t have to ask me— could have just pulled it out.” Eyes still locked on yours as you slip a hand under his waistband.  

Letting you go, he gives you space to slip under the covers, lifting his hips to help you tug off his briefs. The second they're gone, your hand is around him, leaning over to take him between your lips. You know exactly how he likes it— your mouth and hand wrapped tight around the tip, teasing him with just the right amount of pressure that’ll make his toes curl.

You know you're doing a good job when his hand resting at the back of your neck tightens, turning into a firm grip that keeps you exactly where he wants you. Not wanting to try your luck deep throating him just yet, you brace yourself with a hand on his thigh for balance, but soon find yourself running your hand along the muscle instead, grabbing on wherever please, feeling out their solid weight and smoothness. Even though his dick is the main event— hot, thick, and heavy in your hands each time you pull off to catch your breath— it’s his thighs that have your full attention. Maybe next time you'll leave a trail of bites and hickeys along them, marking him up good just because you can.

“Get in between my legs...” He throws the covers back making room for you. Without a second thought, you crawl between his thighs, and just as you’re about to shift down the bed to lay on your stomach, his voice interrupts.

“Uh-uh, sit up...” He whispers, and despite it being nothing more than a gentle correction, it still finds a way to make your stomach tingle. You can’t even lie, that bossy shit turns you up. Glancing up at him, you slowly prop yourself up on your elbows to part your knees just enough, arching yourself down low, nice and sexy in a way you know he’ll like. 

Bobbing your head up and down his dick, you lose track of every grunt and curse you pull past his lips. The wet, squishy sounds from each tight squeeze, paired with the clacking of your pretty nails around his dick, become a rhythm you get lost in until the growing dampness in your panties pulls you back in. Fuck, you’re going to have to speed this up because you really want to fuck now.

“Sloppy, baby. Make it—” His voice breaks off, caught in his throat as you pull off to throw a nasty wad of spit on his dick, watching as it drips down his length. “There you go…” He murmurs, a grin tugging at his lips. You don’t even need to look up to know he’s smiling. Anything for him, right?

“Gotta get the sides too. All of it. Just how I taught you...” His words make your stomach tighten. Glancing up through your lashes, you latch onto his shaft, tongue tracing long, slow licks along his length. The salty taste of him mixing with the slick of your spit as you pump the head of his dick with a tight fist.

“Sloppier…spit on it some more…get that shit wet for me…” He murmurs, bringing his hands down into your hair to gently pull back to keep out of your face. Taking a moment to lick his pre-cum and drool off your lips, you teasingly slap his dick against your tongue, testing its weight. Spitting down onto him again, you let it drip slow and messy before taking him back into your mouth, your lips wrapping tight around him. As you glance up, you catch him smiling down at you, and you can’t help but sheepishly smile back. You used to hate giving head, but for him— talking to you like this— you’ll keep going till he busts in your mouth twice. 

You swear everytime he looks at you like that, something inside you loosens up. You never thought sex could be like this— fun, messy, and so damn freeing. That it’s not just about getting him off; but letting yourself enjoy it too. 

Remembering the times he’s whispered for you to drop your innocence and open up awakens those butterflies in your stomach. It’s a mystery how in such a short time of knowing him, he’s managed to create a safe space for you to let go and push past the boundaries you once clung to— all without a hint of judgment. 

But no matter how amazing everything feels with him, there’s this nagging thing that won’t leave you alone—a constant reminder of how off this all this really is. No matter how hard you try to push it aside, the truth is starting to feel impossible to shake, and the longer you avoid the elephant in the room, the harder it becomes to hold it all together. It’s doubt that creeps in at the end of every night, makes you wonder if any of this is even real. But fuck it, you don’t have the time to make any sense of it right now. You can talk it out with Tink later, you have to get this nut in. 

"Ahmp!" You bite back a moan, caught off guard as his hand slaps your ass right when he shifts to sit up.

“Come up here…” He says, and without a second thought, you slide your soaked panties off to straddle his lap. Once fully seated, you wrap your hand around his dick, stroking him from behind your back, while your other hand rests against his shoulder for support. You can feel your wetness sticking against him, and it’s taking every ounce of willpower not to be a horny bunny and grind your sloppy wet pussy against his chest.

“You know where that condom at?” The question catches you off guard, making you pause— again, definitely not what you expected to hear. Someone’s full of surprises today, huh?

“Yeah, why?” You give him a confused look.

“It’s early, and I’m still kinda tired…I don’t wanna have to worry about pulling out. It be in the back of my mind when we fuck...” He says, warm hands smoothing along your stomach then up around your ribs.

Okay, cool, good to know at least one of you is trying to be responsible. Condom? Sure. Not a problem!

“I think it’s in here.” You lean over, trying to search in the top drawer of your nightstand without tipping over. “Hold me.” You warn, feeling yourself about to topple over. His hands quickly find your waist steadying you. 

“I got it.” You find it stuck beneath a pile of clutter you've been meaning to sort out.

Handing him the gold foil, you scoot back a bit, giving him space to do his thing. As much as you love the feeling of raw sex, there’s something seriously hot about watching him work a tight fist along his length, struggling to stretch the latex over his girth. And as if that wasn’t enough, the damage your sanity takes from his dick snapping back against his abdomen when he lets go is downright disrespectful. 

“Come on— ready?” He grabs you at your ribs, pulling you forward towards him, your breath hitches at his sudden eagerness. “You don’t need this…” He tugs at your shirt, and the second it’s off he’s grabbing hold of your boobs, squeezing them and sucking on your nipples like a baby. Never too tired to suck titties, huh!?

Taking your hand to guide his dick to your entrance, you carefully sink down onto the tip. Yet, no matter how many times you’ve done this, the feeling of just the head pushing through is one that’ll never get easier even with time. 

It’s harder this time around— his dick— no pun intended. After nearly a week of constant sex, you have no choice but to take him slow, inch by inch, feeling yourself clench around him as you sink down.

“Gimme a second…” You plead, pressing your hand against his chest to keep him from bucking his hips up. On a good day you could take all of him, but with the way he’s bricked up, you’re not trying to bite off more than you can chew. See, this is that early morning dick, It’ll be a lot more than hurtful words flying out of your mouth if he so much as attempts to push you down. 

“Take your time…” He teases, bringing both his hands to rub soothing circles along your jawline, fingers combing through your tresses around your nap. “Too much?”

“It’s enough— you’re not little.” You laugh, bouncing slowly on his length, giving your wetness a chance to moisten the condom as you try to fully take him in. It’s painstakingly slow working your sore pussy down his stiff dick, but guess this is the price you pay for letting him fuck you like a dog all week. 

“My bad…” He chuckles. “Here, come lay on my chest— hmm.” He pulls you into his arms. Slanging one around your back, he scoots the both of you further down the bed gripping a handful of your ass to help guide you down his length.

“It’s too dry…” You come back up, the friction of the condom becoming unbearable as you feel yourself drying up from frustration. This isn’t working.  

“I got you…” He brings two fingers to his mouth to wet them. Pulling out, he uses those same fingers to stroke your pussy, rubbing tight circles on and around your clit. Burying your face in his neck to stifle your moans, you feel yourself grow wetter as he whispers filthy praises in your ear, urging you on. 

“This better?” He lips brush against the shell of your ear. Your thighs quiver with each teasing stroke to your clit, the oversensitivity heightening your arousal. And like a slut you can’t do much but moan against his neck when you feel those same two fingers sink into your heat. Curling deep, giving himself a feel around your velvety walls.

“Mhm…” You nod, slowly rolling your hips down to ride his hand. The exploratory movements of his fingers driving deep, stroking your g-spot. “Right there…fuck…right there…” 

“I got you baby…I got you...” His palm presses against your clit as he drives his fingers even faster making sure to hit that sweet spot over and over, he’s so damn deep he could poke your cervix if he pleased. “…you’re squeezing baby, relax for me…there you go…how that feel, good?”

“Toru…I’ma fucking squirt…” You warn, already feeling yourself start to leak. Shit feels so fucking good he needs to publish a wikiHow on finger stroking pussy.

“Show me— go ‘head baby…you know I got you…” He exhales heavily, his other hand running through your hair to hold you close to him as he bullies your pussy like a pro, digging your coochie out so good, leaving her sorer than when you started. It’s a good soreness though, a sweet discomfort that’s nothing more than a reminder of how throughly he’s fucked you the past week. 

“Fuck— hmmmm!” You grip his hair tight, trying your damn hardest to hold back the moan that’s fighting to erupt from you, but it’s no use because all it takes is one final stroke to your g-spot and you're cumming harder than a bull.

“Oh my god!” You cry out, clenching down on his fingers so tight he has to pull them out. Taking his hands to strum your pussy to keep you squirting, your thighs shake with such a force you have no choice but to cling onto him for dear life. A wave of pleasure hits you so intense your entire body electrifies like static off an old box TV across your chest and shoulders. His fingers are pruney once he lets go, all gooed up and coated with sticky globs of your cum.

Wiping his fingers clean on your thigh, he effortlessly guides your soaked pussy all the way down his dick, and a sweet moan comes up your throat once you’re fully seated. You’re so damn wet you can’t even feel the condom anymore, if it was any darker in here you wouldn’t even be able to tell he had one on.

“Bet that rose can’t do it like me, huh?” He teases, two hands at your waist rocking you forward. “I got you making a mess. Wetting the bed all up...”

“Heh— please shut up…” You laugh, catching your breath. Because of course he’d make a joke eight inches deep in your pussy. No matter how good his dick is it’ll never take away from how corny he can be sometimes.

Regaining your strength, your hands find his shoulders again to steady yourself as you begin a slow pace bouncing on his dick. It starts off a lot sweeter this time, nothing like your usual. No creaking bed or pounding headboard, just the quiet sound of your soft moans and his low grunts filling the room. 

You’re fully lost in the moment when his hips start to move in perfect sync with yours, the delicious drag of his dick massaging your walls coaxes the softest, neediest whimpers past your lips. You’re so in love with his dick, you’re serious when you say you’ll fuck him up if you ever find out he’s sharing, because this shit right here makes no sense. It’s too damn good!

“More…right there…” You whine, needing to feel him deeper. Gripping your ass in response he presses his heels into the mattress, pulling your hips closer towards him to fuck up into you so well you have to put a hand to his chest to hold him back. 

You totally get the need for the condom now— thankful for it even— because with the way he’s fucking you this damn good you don’t think he could push you off quick enough before he’s busting his load. And as bad as you want it, you’d hate to dip into that hundred dollars he gave you to spend half of it on a Plan B. 

“Toru...Toru...Toru.." His name spills from your lips over and over as your brain goes fuzzy, slipping into a dizzy, dick drunken state. He's gripping you up just so right, and every stroke to your g-spot has you coming further undone, scattering every thought in your head until there's nothing left but his voice and touch occupying your mind. 

“You’re so fucking pretty baby…didn’t I say I’d fuck you everyday? Hmm?” His voice rings. 

“Thursday…Friday…Saturday…Sunday…” He murmurs, each day punctuated by a slow, deliberate thrust in sync with the roll of your hips. “You love this dick, don’t you?” He breathes, his hand coming down heavy giving a sharp slap against your ass. 

“I do…” You whine, almost like a declaration, as you pull his hands off your waist to guide them up your chest to cup your boobs, lacing your fingers through his to show him how to squeeze them just right. 

You feel so incredibly fucking sexy bouncing on his dick, riding him like it’s been a while and you miss him. You’re trying your hardest to keep it classy for him, but with one more slap to your ass, you’ll be begging him to take the safety off and hit your pussy raw from the side till it goes numb. You hope he’s loving this shit, because you’re not letting him get up in you for at least a week after this one. Your coochie needs a break!

“I wanna cum…” You whine, searching his face for permission, but he doesn’t hear you, too focused on working his own nut out.  

“I wanna cum…” You whine again, your hands come down to press against his chest to grind your pussy down hard on his dick. You got him buried so deep inside you the weight of your hips are holding down his. 

“You tryna be done already?” His hips still, falling flat as he watches you chase your orgasm all on your own.  

“No. Just don’t move…” You plead, trying to keep him from messing up your rhythm as you hit that sweet spot like a drum. It doesn’t take long for that familiar heat to rise up your body, making your face flush hot and your heart rate pick up. You’re almost there! 

“Don’t move— don't move— I’m close…fuck…ahh” You babble out, toes curling. Almost there, you’re almost there!

“Damn boo…” The pet name rolls off his tongue effortlessly, bringing you into focus, your eyes meeting his right as he wraps a firm hand around your neck holding you in place. You got him pussy drunk acting rough and nasty just how you like it.  “When you start taking dick like this? You showing off for me today?” 

“Mmmm— fuck me after I cum…” You say through a smile, his thumb brushing gently underneath your chin. The look in your eyes clear— you’re trying to get broken off like a Kit-Kat. You want it rough, and you know he’ll deliver. He’s got you. 

“Say that again?” He asks as if he can’t understand a word you’re saying. There’s no denying that your voice turns him on. But it’s cool, you have no problem spelling it out for him. 

“I said I want you to fuck the shit out of me after I c— ahmp!” You yelp, a wave of giddy pleasure washing over you from the sting of his heavy hand landing across your ass again.  

“One more time for me?” He pulls you forward, a devilish look in his eyes waiting for you to soften into submission in his hands. 

“I want you to fuck me so bad.” You whine, voice dripping with so much need. You don't give a fuck how you sound right now, his dick drilling your pussy deep, it’s thick head messaging against your puffy walls. “I wanna feel all of it— oowww— mmmm— Fuck! You feel so fuckin— ahh good!—” You moan out, each and every one of his deep strokes punching the words from out of your chest.   

“You don’t want it.” He taunts, a smirk tugging at his lips daring you to prove him wrong— to show him just how badly you want it— to beg. The sudden shift in dominance sends your heart racing, and you find yourself rocking your hips even faster.

It’s this dynamic that you love the most: how one minute he’s soft and tender, talking you through with the filthiest yet gentlest whispers, and the next, commanding and rude, giving you the space to surrender completely and embrace your submissive side. It’s the perfect balance of give and take, and with him talking in your ear nasty like this, you’re more than willing to give it all up and let him lead. 

“Yes I do— fuck…fuck…” You moan breathlessly, lost in the wave of pleasure taking you under. “Make me cum…” You look down at him with those needy doll eyes, the kind that silently beg for more, even as you roll your hips slow and deliberate like the little minx you are, teasing him just enough that you know will drive him wild. 

Every move is a silent challenge, a tease, a true test of his strength and you’re doing it because you know exactly what he wants, and he’s already right there ready to meet you. His hands find your waist again, gripping you firmly, and that awaiting spark of dominance lights up his eyes as he pulls you in close.

No one but him can bring this side out of you, the one that craves to be taken, to be pushed to the edge. You know he’s been holding back, waiting for you to push him there, and now, you’ve done it. His hand then tightens around your frame, the tension in his body radiating through every inch of him, and that tells you everything you need to know; you’ve got him right where you want him, you can let go. 

“You not gonna run?” He presses, but you know your answer is meaningless. He wouldn’t let you even if you tried. 

“No—” You whine, the sound barely escaping your throat as you bounce, the strain in your knees starting to intensify with each movement as you chase your orgasm. 

“No, what?”  Another good grab to your ass, this time with two hands and enough grip to bounce you on his dick himself, fucking up into with a force that causes you to fall forward, nails digging into his shoulders as you cling onto him. “Tell me baby…go ‘head.”

“Fuck…Gojo— Go— AHMP!” Another heavy slap to your ass before you can catch your breath to repeat it. “I’m not gonna run Gojo— I'm not gonna run—”

“You know I love hearing you say it…” He beathes heavy, one hand now threading through your hair to grip your tresses tight, the other fucking you down his dick. “You gonna cum on this dick? Yeah?”

“Yes! Fuck— Fuck— Gojo! Gojo!” You choke out, orgasm fully taking over each and every one of your senses. 

“Again baby…come on…this your dick right…” He breathes, voice low and hot in your ear, hips bucking up fast as another heavy slap comes down to your ass. “Don't run from it…don’t run from it.”

“Fucckkkk— Oh my godddddd! Keep going! Keep going! Don’t stop! Yes! Yes!” You cry out, your pussy clenching so tightly around him that you can feel the rim of the condom scratching against your entrance. The intensity of your grip threatens to pull it loose as it’s already slipped off some. 

“Mmmmm— there you gooo~“ He coos, sensing you reached your climax seeing the way your jaw goes slack and your grip around him tightens. 

“Fuck me! Fuck me! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” You’re begging like slut now throwing your arms around him to tuck behind his neck. Feeling you lose yourself, you take your fingers to work them up to brush along his undercut, anything to try and keep you grounded.

“Kiss on my neck…yeah…just like that for me— “ He moans, as you press your lips against his skin, licking hungry, wet, and sloppy. “Just like that…”

“Where you want me to nut?” His question meets your ear with urgency, the pace of his thrusts quickening in such a way that you can tell he’s close to cumming.

“Anywhere…I don’t care—” You gasp, words spilling, your body trembling with anticipation. Stupidest fucking question he could ask right now. He can bust it on your tits, ass, pussy, or even your face. You don’t care as long as his hot cum drips off your body, ready for him to scoop up and feed to you like you’re Suki.

“Shit!— Get up! Get up!” He groans, lifting you up just enough to pull off the condom to jerk his dick. 

“Gimme your hand…” He takes yours to grab his length, wrapping his large hand around yours, guiding you as you both help work his nut out. Both of your bodies are hot and sweaty, and his heavy breathing is perfectly in sync with yours. Your thighs coming down from a trembling mess.

“Like that baby….mmmm…you gonna kiss it when you're done?” He hums through a smile, head thrown back in pure bliss. It doesn’t take more than a few tight strokes for you to feel his dick pulsate, his hot cum spills out running down both your knuckles sticking your fingers together. 

“Oowww— it's so much!” You giggle, endorphins still having you feeling like you're on cloud nine as you watch amazed by the amount of cum he’s spilling, feeling a warm milky streak run sticky down the back of your hand. 

“Fuck—” He exhales, chest heaving as he starts to come down from his climax. His arms drop limply to his sides, but you stay right where you’re sitting on his chest, reaching back as you keep working the cum out of his still hard dick. 

You can feel him twitch with every pull as you coax the last drops of cum from him. There’s just something so sexy about the way his breath stutters and his toes crack as they curl with each slow tug…like you’re draining him of every ounce of cum he has left.

“That’s it…baby…that’s it…alright that’s it…stop…” He warns, voice strained and his face balling up, eyes shut tight as he tries to fight back a guttural moan. You feel his abs tense up underneath you, throwing off your balance but you take a hand to his chest— now flushed red and glistening with sweat— to hold him steady, fist tightening around his dick to jerk him quicker. 

“Uh-uh, there’s more, look…lemme get it all out for you.” You tease with a playful laugh, tightening your hold around him. “Just relax, it doesn’t hurt.” You purr, your voice dropping low and sweet. More cum spilling with every pull. 

“Oh my g— Yooooo! Stop! Stop! Stop! Bro! Stop!” He gasps, body jerking involuntarily from not being used to the overstimulation. His hips shake under your grip as if trying to escape, but he’s trapped under the weight you’re pressing down on him.

“Bro!? I’m not your bro!” You scoff with a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief at the fucking nerve to address you by anything other than something ladylike! Goofy ass, now you’re really not letting up. He must have you confused for someone else. 

“I swear to god,  if you make me nut again— Fuck!” He growls, head tipping back as he wraps a tight hand around your wrist trying to stop you.

“Satoru, you don’t scare me— let go!” You mock, your hand steadily working his dick, grip unwavering even as his strength weakens less and less from every stroke.

“What happened to all that shit you were talking, hmm?” You pause, watching him closely. “Bet that hand can’t do it like mine?” 

“I’ma fuck you up after this…I’m so serious…watch.” He breathes out, a shaky laugh breaking through, his grip on your wrist loosens completely as he gives in, letting you milk him for everything he’s got. He’s probably dead serious too, but the way his fine ass is squirming under you is too entertaining to give a damn. And to be honest, that just sounds like a promise for round two and that’s not striking fear in your heart— or pussy. Ain't no fun when the rabbits got the gun now is it? We can go till the fucking bed breaks boo, y’all got all the time in the world today!

“Schhhhhoooowwww— oh my god!” He groans, his plump lips parting with a low, desperate growl. “Alright c’mon, chill! Stop!” 

“Keep lying telling people I snore, and I’ma tell your friends you moan like a bitch." You taunt, leaning closer. Pressing more of your weight down on him, your strokes turn into slow teasing massages around the tip of his dick with your palm. 

“You still mad over that?” His eyes open meeting yours as his hands grip the sheets in an attempt to hold back from cumming. He can try to look intimidating with those blue eyes all he wants, but they aren’t moving you.

“I don’t get mad, I get even.” You bite back with a whole lot of sass, letting his dick go the moment you feel your hand start to cramp up. He jerks slightly, caught off guard by your sudden release. “Told you to stop trying me.”

“Clean yourself up~” You shoot him a look, wiping your cum-sticky hand off his chest as you ease yourself off his body and slide off the bed.

“Fuck you…” You hear him mumble under his breath with a laugh as you search the sheets for your phone, panties, and top before making your way to the bathroom to pee.

“What!?” You give him a look back, the fakest mean scowl you can muster up right now. 

“Nothing— Fuck…” The back of his head hits the pillow again as he exhales deeply. 

"Oh, okay! Like I won’t sit my ass on your chest and kill you. Talk to me nice." You fire back playfully, slipping on your top after giving up on the search for your panties— probably somewhere tangled up in the sheets.

Finding your footing, you cross the room to unplug the diffuser you left on throughout the night. With a gentle click, its light shuts off. You take a moment to gather yourself before stepping out and closing the door firmly behind you, leaving him to figure out what the hell just happened. You too are going to need a few minutes alone to yourself after this one. 

[heavenlyraindrops]

The Devil Made Me Do It | Arcane | Silco x Reader | Chapter One

also on AO3 and Quotev | visit the first tag to find other chapters | warnings: pre- s1 (for now), profanity, mentions of death and addiction

summary:

In the midst of an unfortunate run-in with the enforcers, you meet the young revolutionary Silco, and by extension, his friends Vander and Felicia. Growing close friends, you get through life in the undercity together, determined to make Zaun a better place. Until tragedy strikes, and betrayal and carelessness stabs hard enough to turn you bitter. Years later as time solidifies the scars, Silco proves to be a thorn in your side. You, in his. Hatred festers. And your world cracks further open.

Chapter One:

The undercity was certainly something.

Especially at night, when shadows extended their smoky tendrils to allow those dabbling in unsavoury business to lurk, gloomy buildings hiding things you’d be safer off not knowing within. People milling about, going about their private, dangerous business.

Water splashed across the street as your foot landed in a puddle, ankle twisting the wrong way as you tore through the filthy streets, enforcers hot on your heels. All this for heckling an officer? You clutched your shawl around you as the wind almost buffered it away.

It was ridiculous.

After bumping into a large man, a mother and her child, and knocking over a crate of sludge-y creatures, shouts trailing after you, you found an alleyway to disappear into. You scrambled up some wooden beams, eventually emerging onto the flat roof of the low, squatting building. You watched the idiotic Pilties run straight ahead, missing your small detour entirely, and scoffed, stepping away from the edge.

You turned, and made your way across the rooftops of Zaun. 

You’d reached an impasse. Well, not really- nothing a simple jump couldn’t fix. You squinted down into the dusty darkness of the narrow alley below your feet. This part of the undercity was silent- but you could hear the lapping water, and knew you were close to the river.

Vaulting over a concrete bar and pushing off with your feet, you landed on the other side of the gap with a thud. The roof shook, and you yelped as a tile slid off the edge, and crashed into the darkness.

Holding your breath, you heard nothing. The water continued to rumble. You turned to leave.

Until- 

“Fuck.”

You froze in horror. 

Creeping back towards the piped edge of the roof, weight on the backs of your feet, you peered into the darkness. The glowing end of a cigarette burned orange. You gulped.

A man emerged, stepping into your view. His brow was furrowed. Your hands were shaking. “I-I’m sorry!” You called out, and he scowled. 

“You nearly hit me!” He almost-yelled back. But taking a look at your face his expression softened. Against better judgement, you slid down the pipe, feet landing on the ground with an oof.

He looked at you, eyebrows raised. Someone in the undercity coming down to personally apologise for something like that instead of laughing in one’s face and running away was rare. He looked at the apologetic look on your face, and watched as you opened your mouth to speak while also stretching out your hand.

“I’m sorry…”

He reached for your hand too, ready to dismissively accept your apology and move on with his night.

“…But can I have a cigarette?”

His expression dropped.

You lazily took the cigarette from his hands and took a long, deep drag, tendrils of smoke curling from your mouth. At his frown, you moved it from your lips to speak.

“What? You don’t have herpes, do you? I’m not going to get it, am I?”

Wordlessly, he shook his head. You studied his face. Strong features, blue-green eyes. He wasn’t half bad looking.

I wouldn’t mind getting an STD from him.

Without a single reaction to your rather graphic thought you took another drag on the cigarette, before handing it back to him. “Thanks. Not everyone here knows that sharing is caring.”

He laughs, guarded, and then stops himself, surprised such a sound even came out at your words. You smiled at him sweetly. “And sorry for almost hitting your head and bashing it in with a tile. Though it wasn’t my fault, was it?”

“I suppose it was an accident,” he said stiffly, a strand of hair falling in front of his face. He dropped the cigarette, crushing it under his heel. “Miss…”

“[name]. Janna, I really needed to calm my nerves.” You stretched, arching your back like a cat, feeling the bones pop and muscles stretch deliciously. The man wet his lips, looking out at the street through the alley.

“And why would that be?” His voice was smooth. You readjusted your shawl. 

“Some enforcers were chasing me. The usual.” You let out a slow sigh, going to leave the alley without as much as a goodbye. He didn’t say anything, just watched you leave.

You planted a foot out into the street.

“That’s her!” 

You whipped your head around, watching a gaggle enforcers charging towards you. A scream tore from your lips you rushed back into the alleyway. The man grabbed you as you almost crashed into his chest.

“Fucking run!”

Shimmying up the pipe, you were back on the roof. You didn’t spare a turn to look back as your heavy lunges rattled the roofs, leaping over bars and gaps. You turned and saw an enforcer slip through a gap in the roofs, crashing into the street below. The man from the alley was just at your shoulder. Without a sparing a second you turned and left.

Once you were certain you’d lost the enforcers you stopped, chest heaving, and slumped onto the ground- roof- beneath you. The man stayed standing, eyeing you with an unreadable expression.

“Okay,” you gasped, turning over. “Now I’m actually sorry.” Coughing while trying to catch your breath you extended a hand. “Do you have water or something? I’m sorry.”

He let out a heavy sigh, not knowing how to behave in this situation as he took out a flask, crouching down and holding it out to you as you continuously mumbled apologies. You gulped down the water inside. “It isn’t poisoned, is it?” You sighed, wiping your mouth as you handed it back. He sat down as he took it, joining you on the slanted roof. 

“You only think to ask that after you’ve downed half the thing?” His voice was filled with amusement. You ignored him.

“I’m sorry, mister…”

“Silco.”

You stared at him as he took out another cigarette, patting his pockets for a lighter. Without a word you took one out, flicking it open and pushing down to activate the flame. You held it in front of his face. “I’m sorry, Silco.”

The cigarette lit up. You studied his profile, mainly the line of his sharp nose as he inhaled deeply.

“It’s fine. Why do you keep apologizing?”

“I got you involved in a chase with enforcers after almost dropping a tile on your head and taking your cigarette.”

“You didn’t have to take the cigarette,” he muttered, miffed. You ignored him, the lighter snapping shut. “And my plans for the night have been ruined…”

“I’m sorry,” you repeated. He looked at you, chuckling. “I’ll make it up to you somehow, if you want.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Such generosity is rare.”

“Not generosity. Justice.”

He laughed again, at your dramatics this time as he rolled the cigarette in between his long fingers. “Right. Justice.”

“So, one favour.”

“That’s a dangerous offer, [name].” A thought struck him, and he furrowed his brow. “Don’t tell me you’re from topside.”

You stared at him for a minute, then scoffed. “Of course I’m not. What makes you think that?”

“Your naivety.” He blew smoke from his lungs, and you watched as it curled over the rooftops. “It’s not a good idea to go around offering favours to strangers.”

“I’m as much of a trencher as you are, Silco,” you scoffed.

At this, he suddenly grabbed your wrist. You stared at him in shock as his lip curled, expression furious. You blinked, unmoving. 

“Zaunite.”

“Wh-what?”

“Use Zaunite. Not the name they gave us.” His grip on your wrist loosened before falling away completely. You nodded.

“Right.”

It fell silent.

“And I’ll never cash in that favour.”

You tilted your head. “Why not?”

“Because, it’s a stupid idea. If anything, I’m doing you a favour.” Another drag. You turned over to look at the sky.

“Thanks… I guess?”

He chuckled again, smoke curling from in between his teeth. Your face felt warm. “You’re strange.”

“So I’ve been told. What exactly were the plans for your night that I so rudely ruined?”

He didn’t say anything.

“I hope you weren’t visiting a cathouse.”

He groaned, and you laughed, snatching the cigarette off of him. He didn’t stop you. “Certainly not. Not for the cats, at least.”

“The cats?”

“The women, [name].”

“Well, what else would you go there for?”

“You’d be surprised.”

You frown. “Right… so no prostitutes.”

“Definitely not. It’s an immoral practice.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “A trencher with morals. I see.”

“Zaunite,” he said through gritted teeth.

You shrugged, sucking on the cigarette. “Well, I don’t care. They’re just making a living.”

“And what would you consider immoral?”

You blew out a cloud of smoke, and for a moment you considered saying something that he’d agree with, racking your brains for an appropriate answer. He clearly hated topside…

“What those Pilties are doing. Their prejudice against us,” you said proudly. He gave a small laugh.

“Right. Everyone thinks that. Something unique, please.”

You stayed silent. “Well… I do believe capitalising on addiction is quite immoral.”

“Ironic, considering that cigarette you’re holding.”

“There are extremes.” Your voice was low, and it was clear there was a story behind the subject. He didn’t press you, simply watching you put out the cigarette on the tin roof, your appetite for nicotine crushed.

After a quiet moment you spoke. “My sister was pregnant. Some… drug lord got her hooked onto something.” You rested your head down. “It was dangerous. They don’t make it anymore.” He hummed silently. “I lost both her and the baby. And she was all I had left, so…”

“The father?”

You scoffed, and that told him more than he needed to know.

“That… drug… business owner… whatever he was- he didn’t need money. He was filthy rich,” you spat. “A-“ your eyes slid to Silco- “A Zaunite, hoarding money, sucking life out of his own people, and not sharing a single drop. I hate that bastard.”

“What became of him?”

“Business crushed, killed by enforcers.” Your response was curt.

He hummed. “Well, in that case, I certainly won’t go down that path.”

“…I suppose I won’t work in a brothel either.”

“Or own one,” he added. You laughed.

“Or own one.”

You sighed gently, standing up. “Well, I hope whatever business you missed gets resolved. Goodbye, Silco.” You made to climb down to the street.

“Wait-“

You looked up.

“You said you don’t have anyone. If you’re ever… looking for company, go to the Last Drop. Tell the bartender you’re looking for Silco.”

Your eyes enlarged as you stowed the name in your memory. “The Last Drop,” you repeated, then nodded.

“Goodbye, [name].” 

You smiled again, and dropped down into the crowd.

When you looked back up to the sky, to the roof, he was gone.

-

[iam-anordinary-human-orami]

My thoughts exactly.

Also, what did Isha's sacrifice accomplish? FUCK ALL! Absolutely nothing was hindered or a point made other than Jinx now wants to kill her self again but more. Not to mention, how dare they link Jinxs entire existence to that of a child, who calls her mom, who looks like her past self, only for said child to sacrifice herself in the name of "revolution" and have nothing come out of it. Her father's dead again. Her hope for a future is dead AGAIN. Her sister is eating a fascist leader out in a prison cell. And of all the people to have a speech about community and coming together not as Zaunites and Oppressors but as people, it's Jayce giving that talk. Jayce. Not Ekko, the boy saviour, with his community, his tree, his mural, the vision of that alternative timeline where everyone is equal. It's Jayce. Who just killed Victor and had a hand in killing Isha, Jayce who created the Machine Herald.

And for what?

So that Ekko can be alone again. So Vander can remain dead but taking his kid with him this time. For most Zaunites to give up on years of oppression, because Sevika is in the council now even though she hasn't spoken a SINGLE WORD THE ENTIRE LAST EPISODE. For the revolution to die only to fight a war the oppressors started. For everyone to be alone and miserable, but Caitvi are on a ship flying off to fuck knows where, and Cait is looking at hex gates so keep watching and maybe- I DONT CARE.

Also. DIRT UNDER HER NAILS? THAT IS HOW U CHOOSE TO END ARCANE? DIRT. UNDER. HER. NAILS. somebody sedate me.

❗️Mild arcane spoilers ❗️

Miiight ruffle some feathers.

Not EVEN going to lie, unnecessary ship wars aside, the fan base has developed such a deep love and understanding for these characters (because let’s be honest, there are some pretty intelligent people giving eye opening analyses) that after the finale, it appears that we have a better understanding of them than the actual writers.

We deserved better as the audience after all the hype over the years, all the waiting, even after some episodes got leaked a while ago, most of us remained respectful and waited to see what this season would bring us. The core characters ABSOLUTELY deserved better as well.

It felt as if I was watching all of the characters’ development be erased in real time, or become sidelined and nearly mute after being propped up to appear as if they were going to have a significant arc.

With the amount of episodes we had, it felt like they were trying to cram a bunch of different storylines into one 9 episode season and that left us with annoying plot holes and rushed sequences.

And I’m just gonna say it.

If a certain relationship needed to be sacrificed if it meant that other characters had the proper development they needed and DESERVED, then I would have preferred that much, MUCH more than that undercooked finale.

Don’t. Even. Get me started on that caitvi scene. In the cell? Right after that conversation she had with her sister? Don’t give me that nonsense about how it’s vi reclaiming her power or something. (An actual weird ass statement from Amanda Overton in a Q&A video about how that was Vi reclaiming and working through her trauma in that cell).

No apology? No groveling for forgiveness? That little argument they had lasted like five seconds and didn’t even address the earlier conflict that happened in the show after cait left vi. And before any of you say “cait apologized with her actions”

I don’t care. Two things can be true at once, she can and should have apologized directly as well as displayed that with her actions.

Moving on to Mel??? We did not nearly have enough time to explore her new abilities as a mage, her armor, and her connection to the black rose. As I said, the storylines this season should have been more refined so we could focus on a central group of characters. They did nothing but hint at her armor from the end of season 1 all the way up until now.

Also maybe I’m hallucinating, but did we ever find out what happened to the firelight’s tree?? That’s one of the main reasons Ekko and Heimerdinger went to the lab isn’t it? HELLO?

Next on my list, Jinx. This girl has suffered to no end.

- Lost her whole family except for Vi.

- Almost died once and was brought back to life.

- Tried to end her life several more times

And you slap us all in the face by writing her off?

“Oh but she may not be GONE gone, look at the glitching at the end!"

I. Don’t. Care. It’s the principle.

I’m sick and tired of seeing characters that struggle with mental health and keep having one bad event after another happen to them, never receiving a proper ending. What messages are the writers sending with this? That death is basically the answer because there’s no hope for them? Cool. That was not an honorable act of self sacrifice, that was plain insulting.

Instead, if they still really wanted to have a Jinx redemption arc and a chance to rekindle her relationship with Vi, having her tap into engineering for the betterment of Zaun would have been the better route.

We should have gotten an extra extended episode since this is last season for the Piltover/Zaun region, and for Jinx and Vi's story. I really want to blame Riot for being greedy and possibly becoming too cocky with the popularity of Arcane that they think anything would suffice because It's Arcane.

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

Just had another Jimmy thought...

If Curly had a daughter he would definitely introduce Jimmy as an uncle of sorts... Cutting it short once shes of age Uncle Jimmy about to get a whole lot creepier.

First he pulls you on his lap while He and your dad Curly are watching football or something, and you feel something but you dont say anything... but your dad needed to run to the store to grab some more beer. -Cupcake anon

Your own age.

Uncle! Jimmy x Curly's Daughter! Reader.

warnings: age gap(reader is an adult),toxic relationship themes, jimmy is a major creep, non-consensual touching. curly is an oblivious single father.

a/n; cupcake anon, you're a fucking genius. love you for sharing this prompt with me,hope I was able to do it justice!

It wasn't fun being a well respected captain's daughter. Especially after your mom left, your dad would leave for shipments for months on end,and you had to spend a good chunk of your childhood with nannies rather than your parents.

But that was when he came along,Jimmy... Or Jim,as your dad would call him. He was your dad's closest friend since childhood,and now he was gonna be... Living with the two of you? Your dad said that it was due to the shortage of leases on the market currently,but you know damn well it was because that jimmy person was just a broke guy.

"hey,so you're the daughter I keep hearing my friend talk about,huh?".

"uh yeah,my name is y/n".

"y/n huh? well that's a pretty name for a pretty little girl".

you did think it was strange as to how,Jimmy... or well,uncle jimmy as your dad advised you to call him, was so Frank and open minded with you,but you realised that's just how men in his situation were. Open-minded,and careless.

Uncle jimmy... was an interesting man to say the least,you hadn't really had the luck of having any fun 'relatives' for that matter so you thought this was the best as it was gonna get. Jimmy would offer you cigarettes. Something that your father had clearly mentioned in front of him was off limits for you.

"C'mon aren't you a big girl now? some rules are meant to be broken y'know?

"but dad would kill me if he ever found out..."

"it's alright,it will be our little secret".

All in all you started warming up to him,you thought that hey,this guy is already down on his luck,and he's also so fun to be around! wouldn't hurt to be friendly with him.

It didn't matter how unnecessarily long his hugs were,or how suffocating they were. he would always hug you so tight that you had to physically wriggle your way out of his grasp. on some occasions you could've sworn you heard him say something under his breath.

It didn't matter how he would stare at you for long periods of time if the two of you were in the same room,you thought maybe it's just a middle aged man thing

It didn't matter how during road trips,he would sit in the backseat beside you instead of sitting beside his best friend in the front. How somehow his hands would always find it's way to be on your thigh.

He was a fun guy after all! He lets you drink,smoke,and sneak out. Do all the things which your dad would have crucified you for.

Seeing both of you so close would have your dad asking you—

"wow you sure are having fun with uncle jimmy,huh? you guys seem to be close".

"yeah he's so cool! it's super fun to be around him".

"fun huh? Well im hoping it's a good kind of fun,honey".

But curly shouldn't be worried! His best friend was just taking care of his daughter... Right? He wouldn't do anything,wrong... Right? That much faith curly should have in his best friend... Should he not?

Your dad and uncle had a habit of watching football games during weekend nights,and you decided to join them one such night.

While watching the game,jimmy suddenly turned to you,and said.

'oi y/n, c'mere and sit" as he motioned towards his lap,he turned towards curly and said. "For old times sake,eh? You remember how I used to carry ya around? I'm feelin nostalgic".

Curly was already feeling tipsy from the 3rd pint of beer he was chugging,so he just laughter and said "haha,you guys are so adorable!".

Albeit,a strange request,you decided to do as your uncle asked anyway,and you went to him and plopped on his lap. No matter his lanky figure,he was still strong enough to carry your weight. So he had no problem in adjusting himself to have you sir on his lap while still getting a comfortable view of the ongoing game.

everybody was focusing on the game,but you,your focus was on something else entirely,all the while you were sitting on his lap, you could feel Jimmy's hot breath on your shoulder,how his left hand was rested at your side,firmly placing a grip, you could feel his heart beating, and you don't know what got over you,but you decided to do something risky, somthing vulgar which you hadn't even properly processed in your mind.

You grinded against him just a little,and that was enough to get his heart beating 10 times faster,you could practically feel his breath hitch,and him letting out the quietest groan. And you felt something hard between you legs,you realised that you had just gotten him rock hard. you felt accomplished for some reason. But that's when your dad decided to drop off the bomb.

"wait,fuck we're out of beer,jimmy look after y/n while I make a quick trip to the store to get few more".

"you got it boss".

You knew that it was wraps the moment your dad walked out the front door and closed it behind him. You blinked and suddenly you were pinned down onto the sofa, your uncle had both your hands pressed firmly above your head,he stared at you like a wild animal on the prowl, hunting its prey.

"damn,I didn't know that you were so dirty, grinding against me like that,you know how 'fuckin hard it was for me to keep from moaning?,you deserve to get punished for it don't you think?".

• you intently stared him,not knowing what to do,excited yet scared of what he was going to do next.

And then without a warning,he smashed his lips against yours,into a rough, messy, hungry kiss. he tasted like liquor with a hint of cigarettes,the cheap brand which he smokes all the time. His tongue was wildly exploring every inch of your mouth, he felt like an animal in heat.

then in between the kiss he said, "you don't know how long I've been wanting to do this,kid".

you already knew that this was going to be quick as your dad would be back from the store in no time,but you also knew,that this was the beginning of something,very long, something very vulgar. and even though it might be wrong,you felt eager,you felt excited. you were looking forward to whatever was going to happen next.

[hexlenx]

I'D PICK HER OVER ME — james fleamont potter

note: I do not own any of the characters in harry Potter except for the plot in this small fic. This is purely made for entertainment purposes as well as cuz I am craving for some angst.

warnings!: mentions of death, angst

__________________

James was tired, he really was.

Being a single father was hard, plus being an auror for the ministry. His schedule from his work as well as being a father at the same time was harder than the war that had just ended four years ago.

James sighed in exhaustion as he covered his eyes with his arm while laying on his bed. He had just came back from a meeting in the ministry that ended two hours ago. The meeting ended very late and he hadn't had the time to rest until earlier before waking up in cold sweat.

James had nightmares. It was always the same.

Getting paralyzed by a spell, watching his wife get killed by a dark curse, his son almost dying but some miracle happened and the curse thrown at him was rebounded towards the killer, and repeat. All the same thing, every night.

So James did the only thing that helped him everytime it happened. Sitting up as he groaned, he began to stand up to walk towards downstairs and to the kitchen. Arriving at the location, he began to brew tea. Normally when he was still in his adolescence, he would drink firewhiskey to cope with the war, but now he settled for tea that he added a teaspoon of honey to cope with his loss.

It was what his wife always had whenever she was stressed, tea with a bit of honey. Something he never understood why that preference until now.

"Papa?" A timid voice of a young boy called out to James making him snap out of his daze.

"Yes, Harry?" James said to his son. Harry was a four year old boy, unruly brown hair like his father, circular black glasses on his face because of the poor eyesight he gained from his father. He was practically the carbon copy of James Potter but the only thing different is his son's eyes. It was his mother's, the only woman James had ever loved.

"Where's Mama?" Harry questioned. The air stilled but the small child was oblivious of it. It was a very sensitive topic but it is not a taboo. With sharp intake of breath, James knelt down to his son's height, putting his hand on his shoulder as he fixed his gaze on Harry's.

"Your mother." James started as he paused for a moment to think of a sentence to explain why his mother is gone. "Is in a far away land, at the moment."

"But why so far?"

"Because, Harry, she is trying to protect us from something and she needs to go away for a while." That's it, James. The father encouraged himself. He's still young, tell him when he is old enough. He continued these thoughts as he looked at his son's thoughtful expression.

"Will she come back?"

Silence. There was no answer to that question as James embraced his son in his arms, brows furrowed as tears were threatening to fall from its sockets. The truth was, his mother was not gonna come back but how could he tell that to his four year old son?

Finally having set his son to bed, James took one last glance to Harry before going downstairs to sit on the couch of the living room. The honey-tea has long gone cold as he sat in front of the fire that was slowly dwindling. James stared blankly at it as his thoughts were loud but at the same time quiet.

If only you were here.

"If I could pick on who would survive that day, I would've picked you." James muttered to himself out loud, quietly sniffling his tears that slowly fell on his cheeks to his hands.

"Because you would've known what to do.."

The crying of a baby echoed through the house in Godric's Hollow. The scene showed a master bedroom, two bumps could be seen under sheets of the bed. As the cry continued, one of the figures moved.

"Fuck.."

A deep male's voice cursed out as he sat up, not being able to fall asleep now because of the noise. Another voice moaned out from being awaken from the movement of the man.

"I'll take care of him, love. Just continue sleeping." The man coaxed to his wife beside him who blinked at him to ask if he's sure.

"You sure?"

"Yea, you sleep and I'll tend, yea?" With that, the woman went back to her dreams as the man carefully unravels himself from the sheets before walking out the bedroom to the nursery.

"Shh, it's okay, Harry. I got you, bud." He said the moment he took Harry from the crib and coaxed him in his arms. The man was James Potter, the leader of the band of misfits, Marauders is now a father. The one thing he never knew he would be with the war going on.

Harry, the baby, now stopped his fussing and opened his eyes that he got from his mother to stare at his father. Smiling widely, he giggled and tried to reach for James' hair.

"Hey now, not the hair you little twit."

"Do not curse at our child, James Fleamont Potter." A stern melodic voice spoke out from behind the father who flinched as James chuckled sheepishly.

"I'm not...." James trailed off as he looked everywhere but his wife, who rolled her eyes.

"I swear, I can't leave you alone for one second with Harry." You scolded your husband with a slight slap on his arm making him grin at you.

"You love me!" James teased to which you rolled your eyes again.

"Unfortunately." You said while grabbing Harry out of his hands and propping him up on your hip.

"What is that supposed to mean?!"

James leaned against the door frame of the kitchen as he wore a pink apron with a giant cute teddy bear printed on its front, courtesy of Sirius saying it was to look husband material and James agreeing to it because he was told it was husband material, he was listening to you humming a small song to Harry as you kept him occupied by holding up a toy on your son's face.

James was cooking up lunch because he wanted you to rest and let him handle household chores while you occupy your son. It was the least he could do for you as the war lead both of you into hiding your son from the Dark Lord because of a prophecy. He knew you wanted to spend more time with Harry before the worse happens, so he did all the chores while you spend your time with your child, even after so many of your refusals.

James smiled in content as well as fondness as he watched the both of you. How could he have such a wonderful family with how arrogant and stupid he was when he was a teen. He didn't think he deserved such thing after being such a prejudice prick towards Slytherins.

"Take Harry and run!" James yelled out to you as he tried to push the Dark Lord back even if it was just for a delay. He couldn't let him get to both of you, you're all that he had left.

Successfully stunning the Dark Lord, James then ran upstairs to be with you and Harry. It was the only thing he could do to help you run away before the Dark Lord catches up. Unfortunately, James underestimated the Dark Lord's recovery from a stunning hex. The moment James arrived at the doorframe of the nursery of where you were, he fell paralyzed by the spell the Dark Lord had thrown at him.

"No.." James mumbled as his eyes went wide in horror. He kept chanting the word like a mantra as he helplessly watched the scene in front of him. His mumbles becoming screams as he sobbed heavily. Sweat dripped from his forehead as his face turned red, eyes squinting, brows furrowing hard as tears kept flowing down like a waterfall from his reddening eyes.

No...not my family..

Not the one I just built..

Please don't do this to me..

A green light blinded the whole room as a loud thump echoed the room. Silence overlapped as the Dark Lord grinned viciously. James' brown eyes stilled as he watched the limped lifeless body of the woman he was proud to say was his, the love of his life, the mother of his son, his wife, you.

James was not spared from tragedy as he now watched his son getting cursed by the Dark Lord before he stared in disbelief as the curse rebounded and hit the one who casted it. Watching as a lightning bolt of a cut appeared on his son's forehead.

But the moment he was free from his trap, he screamed in agony, not from his wounds, but from the death of his love.

"Now, Harry. If I could choose on who would've lived between me and your mother." James said to his son who was now in his teen, sixteen, as they stood in front of a gravestone. A familiar name etched in the stone.

[ Your Name ] Potter

[ Birthdate ] — October 31st, 1981

"In loving memory of a great friend, sister, mother, and wife."

"I'd pick her over me."

"Why?"

"Because, she would've known what to do."

[estellan0vella]

Sunshine's Guide To Murder│Lee Minho

Chapter Twenty Eight: I Bite SS: 18 (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 3.2K Content Warnings: talks of murder, talks of blunt force trauma, Minho butt hunter mentions, Previous Next Masterlist

The living room is bathed in the warm, amber glow of the setting sun. Dust motes drift lazily through the air, catching the light filtering through the partially drawn curtains. Hayun, Jisung, Minho, Felix, and Jeongin are sprawled across the couches. The coffee table is a war zone of empty snack bowls, discarded honey butter chip bags, and soju bottles in various stages of emptiness.

Hayun’s legs are stretched out across Minho’s lap on the loveseat, and he’s absentmindedly massaging her ankle while sipping from his soju bottle. His fingers press into the arch of her foot, eliciting the occasional involuntary sigh from her. The faint hum of TikTok videos plays from her phone, the screen illuminating her face in the dim room.

Jeongin leans forward in the armchair, tapping his fingers on the neck of his soju bottle, his expression one of barely contained excitement. “Hyunjin’s supposed to be here soon. The second he gets here, we’re updating the murder board. I’ve got markers, post-its, magnets. All the fucking works.”

Jisung groans dramatically, throwing his head back against the couch. “Dude, we’re supposed to be chilling, not solving crimes right now. You’re, like, aggressively obsessive about that board.”

Jeongin shrugs, unabashed, a smug grin spreading across his face. “Well, someone’s gotta keep this shit together. If it were up to someone, we’d all be sitting here watching Levi Ackerman edits and eating expired ramen.”

At the mention of Levi Ackerman, all eyes swivel toward Hayun. She’s curled up on her side, completely engrossed in her phone. She doesn’t even glance up, her thumb scrolling as Levi slices through Titans in slow motion, his signature scowl practically radiating from the tiny screen.

Minho leans over, peeking at her phone with a raised eyebrow. “Seriously? Isn’t that guy, like 5’3” or some shit?”

Hayun finally tears her gaze away from her phone, her expression filled with righteous indignation. “Yeah, and?”

Minho smirks, leaning back against the loveseat. “Just saying, he’s not exactly intimidating. I could probably punt him across a field.”

Hayun scoffs, sitting up straighter, her tone dripping with mockery as she shows Minho her screen. “But could you look this good doing it?”

Minho narrows his eyes at her, and Felix nearly chokes on his drink, laughing. “Oh, she got you there,” Felix says, pointing at Minho with his bottle. “Levi might be short, but he’s got should have been the main character energy. You? You’re just the funny best friend.”

“Wow,” Minho mutters, holding a hand to his chest as if physically wounded. “The fucking disrespect in this house.”

Jisung jumps in, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “It’s not disrespect if it’s true, dude. Levi’s untouchable.”

Hayun smirks, leaning into the banter. “Exactly. Levi Ackerman came first. Sorry, Minho.”

The room erupts in laughter, and Minho throws his hands in the air, his smirk still lingering despite the ribbing. “You’re all traitors. Every single one of you.”

Jisung, emboldened by the chaos, sits up straighter, pointing a finger at Minho. “She can have a 2D boyfriend and a 3D one, but let’s be real, you two haven’t even put a label on it yet.”

Minho’s smirk falters slightly, his eyes narrowing as he shifts his attention to Jisung. “And have you put a label on it with Hyunjin? Or are you still just stuttering every time he calls you cute?”

The jab lands perfectly. Jisung freezes, his soju bottle halfway to his mouth. He glances around the room as if searching for an escape route. “Oh, wow, look at that! Is that a crack in the paint? Someone should definitely fix that.”

Jeongin leans back in his chair, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “You’re deflecting. That’s a classic guilty move, Ji.”

Felix nudges Jisung with his elbow, laughing. “Spill it, dude. Did you make out with him or what?”

Jisung glares at Felix, taking a long swig of soju before muttering, “You’re all fucking annoying. Maybe back off and focus on Hayun and Minho’s ‘will-they-won’t-they’ bullshit.”

Minho raises an eyebrow, leaning back into the loveseat as he rests his arm casually along the back, just behind Hayun’s shoulders. “There’s no mystery. I’m clearly her favourite.”

Hayun, without missing a beat, takes a sip of her soju and deadpans, “Right after Levi Ackerman.”

The room explodes into laughter again, and Minho throws his head back with a groan. “You wound me, princess,” he says, clutching his chest in mock agony.

Jisung is doubled over, laughing so hard tears are forming in his eyes. “She said what she said! You’re runner-up, my guy. You’ve been bested by a fucking anime character.”

Felix raises his bottle in a faux toast, his voice filled with mock solemnity. “To Minho: second place to a fictional character who’s shorter than most children.”

Jeongin chimes in, grinning. “Levi’s got that energy, though. Can’t compete with that.”

Minho flips them all off, shaking his head. “Fuck all of you. I’m done. You’re all banned from my car, my house, and my life.”

Hayun, still grinning, raises her glass and clinks it against his bottle. “Cheers to that, second place.”

Minho glares at her, but the corner of his mouth twitches upward, betraying his amusement. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

The front door swings open, and Hyunjin strolls in with Chan, Changbin, and Seungmin trailing behind. Hyunjin doesn’t waste time, flopping onto the couch like it’s his own place. He pulls a bottle of soju from his tote bag.

“So,” Hyunjin starts, taking a swig before leaning back dramatically. “Yeji had severe blunt force trauma like I said in the group chat. The hit came from someone around her height, but that doesn’t narrow it down much. You know, heels, platforms, the whole deal.”

He pauses for effect, watching as the group leans in. “The weapon was cylindrical, like a pole or something. The dead person doctor wasn’t sure.”

Minho raises an eyebrow, resting his hand casually on Hayun’s shin as she reclines beside him on the loveseat. “And the guy just told you all of this? Just handed over the autopsy details?”

Hyunjin grins, his confidence borderline obnoxious. “Yeah. A sucker for crocodile tears. I pulled out my best ‘poor grieving cousin’ act. Flawless, if I do say so myself.”

Chan shakes his head, rubbing his temples. “You’re ridiculous.”

Hayun shifts, her legs still draped over Minho’s lap, and leans forward slightly. “Cylindrical, like a pole or-” Her voice trails off as her eyes lock onto the murder board. “A police baton.”

The room stills. Jeongin grabs a marker and strides to the board, scrawling “#1 Suspect” under Mr. Shin’s picture with bold strokes. The tension in the room tightens, like a noose around the group’s collective theory.

Jisung raises his bottle in a mock toast. “Honestly, we should digitize this board at this point. Easier to keep track of all the crazy shit we’ve been uncovering.”

Jeongin smirks, twirling the marker between his fingers. “Already done. It’s on my laptop, saved on two separate flash drives, just in case.”

Hayun nods approvingly. “See, this is why you’re the brains of the operation.”

Felix laughs, clinking his bottle against Jeongin’s. “And the most paranoid.”

Hayun, Jisung, Felix, and Jeongin all move to stand in the middle of the living room, passing the marker between them like they’re brainstorming for a high-stakes exam.

Jisung tosses the marker to Hayun. “Maybe Mr. Shin followed Yeji when she went to check on the body?”

Hayun catches it effortlessly, spinning it between her fingers. “What if he found out the truth? Ryujin killed Yuna, and Yeji stashed the body. He could’ve snapped.”

Felix grabs the marker mid-air. “But he didn’t kill Ryujin.”

Jeongin snatches it next, tapping it against his palm as he speaks. “Maybe he’s spacing it out. Put some time between the murders. Less obvious. Or maybe because he already lost one daughter and doesn't want to lose a second"

Felix nods thoughtfully, handing the marker back to Jisung. “Or what if Ryujin gave him some half-truth? Like, she wasn’t entirely sure about the plan she made with Yunnie to frame Mingi.”

Hayun narrows her eyes, crossing her arms. “So she gets ahead of it, tells her dad what Mingi did to her and how Yuna was involved.”

Jeongin adds, “Then she spins it so Yeji’s the villain. Says Yeji killed Yuna and forced Ryujin to stay quiet. Mr. Shin flips, makes Yeji take him to Yuna’s body, and then BAM!” He claps his hands for emphasis. “Smacks her over the head, she dies, and he dumps her in the tank.”

The four of them stop, staring at the board as though waiting for it to confirm their theory. The room feels electric with energy, theories bouncing off the walls.

From the corner of the room, Minho leans back, watching them with a bemused expression. Chan nudges him, gesturing at the chaos. “Is this… normal?”

Minho smirks, resting a hand on Hayun’s abandoned bottle of soju. “Completely. It’s how they think. They bounce ideas off each other until something sticks.”

Felix tosses the marker back to Hayun. “Ryujin didn’t know where Yeji hid Yuna’s body, right?”

Hayun nods, pacing slightly as she speaks. “Not until the news broke. Yeji was the only one who knew.”

Jisung catches the marker from her, spinning it dramatically. “Then Mr. Shin had to follow Yeji. Or maybe Ryujin told him Yeji was involved.”

Felix snatches it from Jisung with a quick grab. “What if he held Yeji at gunpoint? Forced her to take him to the body?”

Jeongin grabs the marker next, his voice cutting through the rising tension. “So we all agree? We're investigating Mr Shin?"

There’s a pause as the room collectively breathes in. Then, all at once, everyone says, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Hayun grabs another bottle of soju from the crate near the couch, twisting the cap off. She drops back onto the loveseat, and Minho immediately wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her snugly into his side. She lets out a soft sigh, resting her head on his chest as she takes a sip of her drink.

Jisung, sitting cross-legged on the floor with his own bottle in hand, frowns thoughtfully. “Wait. How the fuck do we even go about investigating a police officer? Like, what’s the play here?”

Everyone falls silent for a moment, glancing around at each other like someone’s supposed to have a genius idea locked and loaded.

Seungmin finally breaks the silence with a deadpan expression. “Apparently, the jury’s out on that one.”

Chan leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and shrugs. “Anyone got any ideas? Even bad ones. At this point, I’ll take literally anything.”

That’s all the encouragement Jisung, Hyunjin, and Changbin need. They light up like Christmas trees, clearly ready to share the absolute worst plans possible.

Jisung lifts his bottle in mock seriousness. “Okay, hear me out: we tunnel into the police station. Like, fucking gopher style. Steal his files, then scurry back out before anyone notices.”

Hayun raises her hand lazily from her spot against Minho. “Claustrophobic, so I’m out.”

Minho chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Smart move.”

Hyunjin sits up straighter, his face deadly serious. “Alright, my turn. I could seduce him.”

Felix squints at him. “He’s straight, though, right?”

Hyunjin shrugs dramatically, a smirk playing on his lips. “You don’t know until you know.”

Felix takes a slow sip of his soju, nodding in reluctant agreement. “That is… more than fair, actually.”

Changbin claps his hands together. “We fake reports of gas leaks in his neighbourhood. Say he needs to evacuate his house for safety.”

Jeongin blinks at him, his voice dry as the Sahara. “He’s a fucking police officer. He can check that shit.”

Hayun snorts softly against Minho’s chest, her shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

Jisung, undeterred, raises his bottle like he’s making a toast. “We could kidnap him!”

Hyunjin jumps in immediately, smacking Jisung’s hand in a high five. “And torture him for answers!”

Minho groans loudly, staring at them like they’ve grown second heads. “They just need to hurry the fuck up and either fuck or get together or something.”

Hayun nods sagely, tipping her bottle toward Jisung and Hyunjin. “Agreed. It’s painful to watch.”

Jisung turns to Chan with a mock gasp after hearing Chan mutter about a lack of brain cells. “Excuse you! Hyunjin, Changbin and I are professional theorists, okay?”

Felix raises an eyebrow. “Theorists of what? Dumbass ideas?”

Jisung smirks. “Creative solutions.”

Hyunjin leans into the bit, flipping his hair dramatically. “Visionaries, if you will.”

Chan groans, running a hand down his face. “Why the fuck did I agree to come here tonight?”

“Because you love us,” Hayun says sweetly, raising her bottle in a toast to him.

Chan mutters something unintelligible into his drink, but his smirk gives him away.

Seungmin rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “We’re doomed.”

The house is steeped in a drunken warmth when the group finally winds down from their chaotic night. Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, Minho, and Seungmin have all decided to crash at the house, their earlier drinking rendering driving an impossibility.

Jeongin pulls Chan upstairs toward his bedroom with an easy grin, Chan following with his own subtle smirk. The two disappear into Jeongin’s room, the door clicking shut behind them without a word to the others.

Meanwhile, Felix drags a massive air mattress out of the airing cupboard, huffing as he unfolds it in the middle of the living room. “Help me with this shit,” he says, nudging Changbin with his foot.

“I’m not the one who owns it,” Changbin grumbles, but he helps anyway, rolling it flat as Hyunjin tosses some pillows and blankets onto it. Seungmin simply sits on the couch, sipping water and watching the chaos unfold with a faintly amused expression.

Once the mattress is ready, the three of them settle onto it, Hyunjin taking the middle and sprawling out dramatically. “Room for one more?” he jokes, earning himself an eye roll from Seungmin and a snort from Changbin.

“You’ll be lucky if we don’t smother you in your sleep,” Seungmin mutters, lying on his side and pulling a blanket over himself.

“Love you too,” Hyunjin chirps, before flopping onto his back with a satisfied sigh.

Felix heads into his room, mumbling something about needing to scroll through TikTok to relax. Jisung waves lazily before heading to his room, shutting the door behind him. Minho and Hayun linger in the hallway for a moment before Minho follows her into her bedroom.

Inside, Hayun flicks on her bedside lamp, the soft yellow glow washing over the room. She peels off her oversized jumper, revealing a black lace bralette and black yoga shorts beneath. Her fluffy Hufflepuff socks stay firmly in place, adding a touch of cosy absurdity to her otherwise sleek look.

Minho leans back against her door, watching her with a small smirk. “You really commit to the aesthetic, huh?” he teases, nodding toward the socks.

“Comfort first, Minho,” she retorts, tossing her jumper into the corner. “Unless you want to lecture me about dressing up to match my pyjamas.”

“Never,” Minho says with a grin as he pulls off his hoodie, followed by his t-shirt.

His toned torso gleams faintly in the dim light, and he doesn’t miss the way Hayun’s eyes flick over him before she quickly looks away. He chuckles quietly, stepping out of his cargo trousers until he’s down to his boxers.

Hayun climbs onto her bed, watching as Minho joins her. She stretches out, letting out a small groan. “Soju makes me so fucking tired,” she murmurs, her voice soft and lazy.

Minho nods as he pulls the blankets over both of them. “Yeah, it’s like a whole-body shutdown,” he agrees, lying on his side and curling around her. His chest presses flush against her back as he wraps an arm around her waist. The warmth of his body radiates through her, making her sigh softly.

Hayun’s voice is muffled against her pillow as she speaks. “Reckon Hyunjin will end up in Jisung’s bed?”

Minho snorts. “Probably. Those two are a disaster waiting to happen. You know something?”

The room falls into a still, golden glow as the faint sounds of the house settling outside Hayun’s door fade into silence. Minho shifts slightly, the playful ease he carried all night giving way to something softer, more serious. His arm tightens just slightly around her waist, pulling her closer as his breath brushes the back of her neck.

“You know…” His voice is low, almost hesitant, the weight of unspoken thoughts threading through his tone. “I never followed through on that text I sent after Mr. Han pulled his abduction bullshit.”

Hayun turns her head toward him, her curiosity piqued despite the quiet comfort of their position. Her voice is soft, teasing, but there’s a flicker of something earnest beneath it. “The one where you said you’d kill me and then kiss me for making you worry?”

Minho exhales a quiet laugh, his lips quirking in a faint smile that she can feel more than see. “Yeah, that one.” His tone softens, carrying a quiet intensity. “The killing part? Not as appealing.”

She smiles, her voice steady but laced with a playful edge. “And the kissing part?”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond. The air between them grows heavier, the unspoken tension building as his fingers trail absently against the curve of her hip. Then he shifts, propping himself up on one elbow so he’s hovering just slightly over her. The dim light catches the flicker of emotion in his eyes, his expression unreadable but intent.

Minho’s gaze locks onto hers, the room shrinking until it feels like they’re the only two people in the world. The space between them hums with anticipation, every second stretching out like an eternity.

“Sounds fucking divine,” he murmurs, his voice dropping into a deeper, huskier register as he leans down, closing the distance.

When their lips meet, it’s soft at first but it deepens quickly. His hand cups her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek in a gesture so gentle it makes her heart stutter. Hayun’s fingers thread through his hair, tugging lightly as she tilts her head, pulling him closer. The kiss grows more deliberate, the world outside dissolving as they lose themselves in each other.

Minho’s lips move against hers like he’s memorizing the moment, his other hand pressing lightly against her waist to keep her grounded. Hayun feels a warmth spreading through her chest, a quiet intensity that’s equal parts comfort and fire. She’s not used to this. To letting herself be vulnerable, to feeling safe. But in Minho’s arms, it feels right.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against hers, his breaths coming a little quicker. His dark eyes flicker open, meeting hers with a small smile that softens the edges of his usual confidence.

“Well fuck,” he whispers, his voice rough around the edges. “Should’ve done that sooner.”

Hayun’s fingers linger in his hair, her lips still tingling. She chuckles softly, the sound low and warm. “Yeah. Took you long enough.”

Minho’s grin widens, a playful glint returning to his gaze. “Guess I was waiting for the right moment.”

He shifts back down, lying behind her once more and wrapping his arm around her waist again. His chest presses firmly against her back, his thumb resuming its soothing circles against her hip.

“You’re such a sap,” Hayun murmurs, her voice teasing but tinged with affection.

“And you fucking love it,” he fires back, his tone light but confident.

She smiles, her hand coming to rest on top of his where it lies against her stomach. She doesn’t say anything, but the small, contented sigh that escapes her lips says everything she doesn’t.

“Goodnight, princess,” Minho whispers, his voice a quiet murmur against her ear.

Hayun shifts slightly, leaning back into him. “Goodnight, Minho,” she replies, her voice soft and filled with a contentment she hasn’t felt in a long time.

As the room falls into silence, the gentle rhythm of their breathing syncs, the warmth of his body a steady presence at her back. Outside, the world keeps spinning, but here, wrapped in Minho’s arms, everything feels still, safe, and undeniably theirs.

Taglist: @hityoulikebahng @drewsandsebastianswife @fackeraccount @lily-loves-kpop @stilldontknowhoiam

@ziggy1221 @justaspoonofjam @tr-mha-fan @candycurshidkwhatthehell

@heeseungspookie @smigcrazy @skzstannie @nightmarenyxx @beaann

[idolomantises]

I’ve seen people make excuses for the writing by mentioning it’s all just set up for spin offs and sequels but… I don’t want that? Why on earth would I want to wait 3 years for a show to say “oh by the way these characters will get proper conclusions in the spin offs”.

Just tl:dr I’m over this series and don’t plan on watching any of the sequels or spin offs. Maybe if they introduce a hot robot character I’ll check it out.

There’s not even a promise that every single character that has an inconclusive ending (which is all of them btw) will have spin offs and sequel shows. I’m pretty sure they’re likely going to just use a completely different cast since League has a lot of characters.

I’ve seen arguments that the season is bad because it has very few episodes and wasn’t spaced out, and while I do agree the pacing is terrible I also… don’t even think this show could have been salvaged if they gave it a full 4 seasons. Because either way, it was going to end with a lot of characters being badly written, sideline and having arcs unfinished so it can be explored in sequels and spin offs (if that even happen).

One thing I liked about arcane is that it avoided a lot of really bad tropes that I’ve seen modern queer media weirdly struggle with. Arcane avoided the pitfalls written female characters, female characters used to push male relationships and very clearly abusive couples that are dismissed just because they’re gay.

Then season 2 happens and Mel becomes a disposable black woman trope, Sky only existed for male angst, Maddie is literally there for shock value and adds nothing to the narrative, Vi just… turned into that and Caitvi is toxic yuri in a way that’s very unfun and frustrating. These two are seriously so incompatible for each other, but they make out and have sex a lot so I’m sure this destructive relationship with warring idealogies will be fine. Please queer shows for the love of god stop assuming gay characters kissing and fucking makes up for their lack of communication and horrible behavior to each other.

Honestly I’m really disappointed that all these things happened to Sky, Mel and Maddie because watching fans tear apart female characters for 4 years just for existing and getting in the way of ships only for them to be exactly that and for fans to cheer about their suffering pisses me off so bad like girl… what the hell happened did the writers have amnesia. How do you write this show right after season one and fuck up this bad.

Maybe we should stop making videos about how tv shows write female/queer characters well until they’re actually done because this is getting ridiculous.

And yes I want to come back to the issue with how black characters were treated because I do find it pretty gross for Mel and Ekko to be absent for most of the show but then come back to basically save the day so fans don’t complain about how they were obviously sidelined for the sake of other characters. I dont really care for Ekko/Jinx but I did enjoy their time together in the AU.

And another annoyance is that this show did such an incredible job at introducing moral greyness to the show but then got scared to really commit to giving these characters any consequences. And I don’t mean like death or going to jail, but I mean holding grudges. I think Jinx is a very interesting and tragic character but she’s also… a terrorist? She caused the death of their friends and father? Like she’s a grown woman making these decisions. Having characters run around and risk their lives to save her felt a bit frustrating because yeah circumstances lead to this but half of these circumstances are also her fault. I really wish the entire season was about Vi choosing whether or not she was ready to forgive Jinx instead of basically accepting her back because Vander is back.

And VANDER…. Actually I won’t say anything because the more I mention him the more it pisses me off.

I have more thoughts but I gotta draw some comics so I’ll just leave at that. Disappointing season that I think is a lot worse than fans insist it is. It’s not one or two issues, it’s just compounding problems that won’t improve.

Thoughts on Arcane season 2

I didn’t like this season

It’s not bad, but I found it incredibly rushed, cramped and deeply unsatisfying

While season 1 had several protagonists it was also pretty obvious that Vi and Jinx were the emotional core of the entire show so why on earth was their dynamic barely explored here

Vi went from being my favorite character to a character I found deeply frustrating and annoying. What the hell is her personality of getting her sister back and fucking the hot lesbian. She has no consistency whatsoever and it’s something I don’t think the show realizes how batshit the constant flip flopping in. What do you mean you sister tells you she’s going to kill herself and then you start fucking your messy situationship

I don’t really care for Jayvik but I found Jayce’s confession very sweet.

Mel my beautiful queen they’re gonna call you a Mary Sue

What the fuck was with all that Witch shit and Ambessa’s death was incredibly unsatisfying

Victor fans who kept begging the team to not make him a hot buff robot so he can still be a skinny twink pisses me off so bad because now we have an inferior twink robot design. I know fans probably didn’t influence this but I also need to complain about their lack of taste like what do you mean you didn’t want to see a hot buff robot man.

Ekko feels like an incredibly unimportant character and I’m pretty sure fans only like him because of what he can do for Jinx. A part of me wished he actually did hold a grudge just to see how fans reacted.

Season 1 was all about setting up emotional complexities and how nobody was truly evil and the show made it seem like there was no way for anyone to fully recovery from this but everyone is holding hands and singing kumbaya’s so alright nevermind then

This show was honestly a little too in love with Jinx. I did not enjoy her writing in acts 1 and 2.

The jokes were really bad this season

The songs oh my god the SONGS. I didn’t mind them in season 1 but in season 2 it started to remind me of love is blind and anyone who has watched that show would know what a massive insult that is.

Caitvi lesbian sex scene and I couldn’t even enjoy it because the writing was pissing me off

Caitlyn should’ve continued her little fascist arc.

Mel’s arc this season felt like weird fanfiction.

A bunch of random side characters die off unceremoniously after the show gave them so much unnecessary screen time

I hated Isha sorry. I’ve never seen a character more clearly made to die.

Jinx death means nothing to me because I know she isn’t dead so why even do all that lol

I will never call this show sexist but it has done a massive disservice to its female characters.

[wortsandall]

genuinely wish i hadnt watched season 2, its changed how i see things. i miss season 1 so bad and those versions of the characters. i was not having a good time sidenote: (spoilers)

i really want to know what ekko said to jinx i mean she was so stuck on trying to kill herself that even ekko's presence didnt make her stop and we're supposed to just guess what he said to make her come back with her hair cut short ? this is what i mean when i say that they dropped the ball on character for the sake of plot. i want to know why characters are doing things, why they're working together besides "oh we were fighting but now theres ambessa and viktor to stop so we'll come back to our interpersonal conflicts" only to Never actually Do That. they kept setting up interesting conversations only to cut away from them.

i really resonated with jinx in season 1, and this season i was watching and waiting for something but she was just so subdued the whole time she felt like a different character to me. which is fine because i know grief can do that to a person. but my favorite moments of hers were her fights with vi and with isha. and they really killed isha and then never mentioned her again like ???? why do that

im very character > plot. it could be the most nonsensical thing but as long as the characters are good im having fun. and so much of the plot of this season was about the war and the anomaly that i did not give a single fuck about, i was waiting for character moments that would make me hurt inside and they didnt really happen. not in the soul crushing way season 1 did. i still sob over silco and jinx is season 1 act 3. and i wanted that kind of emotional devastation

for example i dont understand cait and vi at all. im trying so hard to see why theyd be into each other, break up like that and get back together and i genuinely Do Not understand. maybe its my aromanticism rearing its ugly head again but i have no idea what the fuck they were doing the Entire time.

if i dont understand the characters, it kills the whole thing for me. and i did not understand the character motivation in this season.

ekko mel and jayce hard carried this season for me im so proud of them. (especially jayce i love him)

[maidflowery]

Fortified Wager ♣♣♣ 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 8

♦︎♦︎ Aventurine x Reader ♦︎♦︎ 𝕀𝕝𝕝𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕

🄱🄰🄲🄺 🅃🄾 【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ 7】

𝕋𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕠𝕗 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥

𝐂𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐕𝐒 𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 (𝟏)

╔══ ≪ ♥♦♥ ≫ ══╗

“See? You should have just kept quiet and done as you were told. The truth is, I actually like you. You’re quiet and obedient.”

When Big Baddie stood up, you realized he was twice your size.

So, you let the gems fall, teetering on the edge of the table as bait.

Sorry, Aventurine.

Meanwhile, you let your watch slid over your knuckle as a makeshift brass knuckle. There was no way you’d deal any real damage otherwise.

“I was just trying to save you, you know? I’m sure you also don’t know this, but that Avgin slave over there killed his owner.”

The moment he leaned in, eager to grab a hold of the gems, you swung your fist straight into his face!

“Of course I know, you piece of shit!

Otherwise, what kind of Aventurine’s fan were you?

“Uuoorrggh—!!”

As your fist connected with his nose, you felt the sharp impact reverberate through your knuckles, followed by a sudden, jarring crunch. Big Baddie took the punch square in the face and staggered backward. Soon, he lost his balance and fell, crashing to the ground in a heap.

Regret always came too late.

As you watched your wristwatch fell, shattering its glass on the floor, you realized you still loved it after all!! Also, your hand hurt like a bitch! Shit! Fuck! You could feel tears welling up in your eyes.

Above all, you were furious.

Aventurine never even brought up his past, so who the fuck gave this guy the right to do so?!

You recalled how the pair of violet-cyan eyes looked so lifeless and devoid of emotion the moment his past was mentioned. It was clearly something difficult—something he preferred to keep private, and for obvious reasons.

If Aventurine were a male lead in a romance novel, it would have taken over 100 chapters and three different arcs before he revealed his past!! Even then, it would be only to the person he trusted most, someone he felt comfortable being vulnerable with!! That was just how delicate this was!!

And yet, and yet... this guy, heartlessly, in front of everyone...

In the past, Aventurine's entire family and clan were massacred by their enemies. Though he survived the ordeal, he was soon enslaved. Only God knows the depths of trauma and torment he suffered at their hands—enough to drive him to kill.

“—Hahahaha! Of course! Of course she doesn’t know! That's what you get for letting his looks fool you!”

“Do you know how hard I’ve been holding back my laugh?! I was wondering how to break the news this whole time! Hahahaha!”

Of course, taking a life was rarely, if ever, justified.

But that is not a reason to laugh at or shame him?! Especially not this bastard, who drove two innocent children to seek revenge!!

A single tear rolled down your cheek. Regret, anger, sorrow and pain washed over you all at once—mostly pain.

While shaking your stinging hand like crazy, you screamed at Big Baddie, “But so what—?! So what if he killed his master?!”

If you were beaten within an inch of your life every day and treated far worse than an animal, what would you do?

If you had nothing left to live for but to await your death at the hands of your enslaver, how would you respond?

“—I’d have done the same!!”

Your shoulders heaved up and down as you struggled to regain composure. All you knew was that you were ranting out of sheer rage.

“Shut up!!” Big Baddie stood up while covering his nose. He glowered at you like a beast, blood oozing out of his hands. “You're just a pathetic slut serving tables!! Do you really think I can't destroy you?! That worthless slave won't protect you from me!!”

“...!”

You instantly went quiet.

Seeing this, Big Baddie grinned with triumph, blood staining his gold and white teeth.

...That’s right.

Back when you were merely a third party, you could easily dismiss the whole incident with Big Baddie as "unreasonable." As much as you hated to admit it, you didn’t see it as that big of a deal.

Why didn’t the staff just skirt around the problem, make some excuses, and feign ignorance? Or, even better yet, fight back. Then, call the authority if things escalated. Easy-peasy.

Well, the reason, as it turned out, was plain and simple.

It was the same reason you didn’t pick a fight with every professor who imposed outrageous assignments or feedbacks on you. Or why you hadn’t shoved your middle finger down Erin’s—your actual manager at the restaurant you actually worked at—prissy throat yet.

Because you’d be a dropout and without a job. Now, you wouldn’t say that you knew how every single staff in Primavera felt, but you certainly wouldn’t survive without your job, let alone switch colleges.

Facing against Billy Burnett, the infamous iron-fisted loan-shark, the stakes were even higher. One wrong move, and your entire life could be in jeopardy.

“Need I remind you what kind of authority they have? A single word from them could ruin the lives of many. I wouldn’t care if you’re the only one affected, but I also have something to protect, so stay in your lane.”

You recalled Marius’ words.

You wouldn’t blame him either—or anyone, for that matter. Everyone had their own circumstances. It was called “picking your battles.”

Which was why, only you could do this.

If it wasn’t you—who would?

You grinned.

Thanks for the reminder, Big Baddie.

Thus, as the waiter of the high-end nightclub Primavera, you shot back, “Watch your language! Aventurine is one of our most valued customers, and we do not tolerate any form of abuse or mistreatment toward him!”

“Wha—?!”

Big Baddie had a dumb look on his face. Perhaps this was the first time someone had called him out so boldly.

Also, you weren’t even lying!! Who else could singlehandedly quadruple the profit of a luxurious nightclub?! Calling him Primavera Jesus would be more fitting! Obviously, the staff would want to cling to him—especially after what you were about to do in their uniform, using their name!

While Big Baddie was still flabbergasted, you continued.

“—Given that this behavior has persisted, we are left with no choice but to ask you to leave and ban you from returning!”

After enduring his tyranny for so long, those were likely the words the staff had been dying to say, but couldn’t.

Then, your gaze briefly landed on your crisp, black uniform. Her uniform.

Of course, you wouldn’t pretend to understand how Judith felt either.

Still, when everyone else was too terrified or stunned to do anything, her manager took a punch in the face for her. If you were her, you’d be happy, knowing that most managers out there wouldn’t do even half as much—and at the same time, sad. But above all, angry.

So, you thought of saying this for her.

“—Also, that’s for punching my manager, asshole!!!”

Yes, only you, or specifically, Aschenputtel, could do this.

Aschenputtel, who was destined to lost her job either way. Aschenputtel, who had neither family nor friends, and would disappear past midnight.

Hence, you, Aschenputtel, decided—

—I’m taking you down with me, Big Baddie.

╚══════╝

🄾🄽🅆🄰🅁🄳 🅃🄾 【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ ９】

I realized that at the rate I was doing it before, the update will only come once a month, or even 2 months in case anything happened. ૮(˶ㅠ︿ㅠ)ა I don't want to keep you guys hanging for that long. So I decided to post it as soon as a part is finished. Do tell me if any of you prefer that I just finish it as a whole before updating :D

[raddagher]

Arcane is over (😭) and I have some criticisms so here are my lists of who Won and who Lost in no particular order

LOST SEASON 2

1. Isha

Literally wasn't even mentioned after she died, like wtf was that

We couldn't have a memorial or anything? Come on

Her sacrifice was ultimately meaningless because Warwick got brought back anyway

2. Sevika

Didn't get a single line through all of Act 3

Where is my wife

At least she didn't die?

3. The entire Undercity, to be honest

Where did the independence thread go

Giving Sevika a council seat wasn't enough

I don't like that so many of them had to fight in Enforcer uniforms, that felt wrong

That was the MAIN CONFLICT for most of the show. It felt so weird to gloss over it at the end

4. Vander/Warwick

Gonna be real I wasn't super crazy about most of his presence here, I don't feel like it actually contributed much to anyone's development, except MAYBE Viktor's

We would not have lost anything if they didn't have the flashback scene with their mom

Super didn't like Jinx's ending as it pertained to him

5. Jinx

Hey I super don't like that every character who had a moment of suicide ideation or attempt ended up dead or "dead"

I don't like the way she "died" it didn't feel earned

I don't feel like the ending she got aligned well with her character at all. She spiraled and then just. stayed at the bottom of the spiral :(

They put a TON of family stuff in act 1 and 2 that didn't get resolution in 3

I think they kinda did my girl dirty I'm sorry

6. Loris

Clearly would have had more of a role if they didn't have to cut him for time

NEITHER WON NOR LOST SEASON 2

1. Vi

I want to say she won because she got to bang her cop girlfriend in a prison cell and the sex scene was good as hell but

She also was just taking massive L's the whole time

Like it never felt like she ever had any real wins other than that and that bummed me out

Didn't get enough time to be a dumbfuck with Jayce :(

Caitlyn

Didn't get enough proper resolution for her wonderful fascist arc

She felt a little dropped in Act 3 as well

Glad she got that Vussy tho, good for her

And I did like the vs Ambessa fight, that was also good

I honestly feel like Viktor and Jayce's romance was written better than her and Vi's, and as a gay woman who is constantly watching mlm relationships get so much more attention, it rubs me the wrong way

WON SEASON 2

1. Viktor (OBVIOUSLY)

The fucked up robot army. The religious imagery. The body horror. His robot alien design is scary as fuck. Absolutely incredible work

Got to be taller and stronger than Jayce hooray

They're canon. That was the gayest shit I've ever seen in my life

I do wish they had spent more time overall fleshing out more of the disability commentary, I feel like it was a little lacking in the end

Nevertheless BEAUTIFUL and HORRIFYING and TRAGIC

2. Jayce

See above

Yeah he also got to be a big hero and got to be resolved really well

Did NOT see his death coming that was crazy

They Magnus 200'd his ass, damn

He chose Viktor over everything I'm emo

They made a heart when they touched their foreheads together fuck OFF

3. Heimerdinger

Literally just living his best life

Love that he didn't tell Ekko he can't die, he just let the poor boy think he got fuckin atomized, king shit, that's hilarious

I would have stayed in that universe too tbh

4. Ambessa

The single tear over Kino. Her love for her children at direct odds with her need for control. Her arc was explored so well

Died a warrior's death at the hands of her brilliant daughter, I know that's how she would have wanted to go

Also was very hot in every scene. Good for her (and good for me)

She just got a lot of love from the writers and I'm very happy to see that effort put into an older Black woman character

5. Mel

Speaking of gorgeous Black women

I was so worried she was going to get dropped but her ending was SO good

Her glow up with the gold is fantastic, she looks amazing in the white hood

Love that they gave her abilities that would inherently change her priorities AND gave her the throne of Noxus, I have high hopes that she'll be prominent in another show in the future

They made her such a powerful badass but still let her be merciful and forgiving. Absolutely amazing. She is the wolf

6. Ekko (?)

On the fence about him

LOVED the au scene. Perfect

And I loved that our boy savior got to be the one that set off the bomb that stopped Viktor

But he was kind of dropped otherwise? Like what happened with his tree?

Generally wish he had more development and screentime in this season

But I'm happy he was so pivotal to the climax

AND I'm happy he got to kiss Powder. He and Jinx would never have worked out

7. Maddie

Haha I never liked you. Get fucked you horrible little bootlicker. Typical cop

8. Singed

How come YOU get everything you want?

Fuck you.

Basically all my criticisms boil down to it feeling rushed overall. It's clear that they intended to have more time, and that breaks my heart. We all know Netflix's reputation for cancelling stuff out of the blue, and I've heard that maybe certain parties were unhappy with the depictions of gay romance and realistic social revolution. Whatever the reasons, I wish they had a third season, because I think they could have solved every problem I have with it. Regardless, it's an incredible work of art and very likely one of if not THE best animated series ever made.

[vidavalor]

re: modern day flashback: That would be so fun! I'm a bit confused, though-- the trip to Edinburgh was to go to The Resurrectionist for the Everyday mystery (& for Aziraphale to go to the graveyard to work on his PTSD)? I do think we're probably going to briefly flash back to *very* modern days-- to after Aziraphale blew up his halo and The Metatron got on the circle floor zoom thing, as Aziraphale seemed to be saying happened the prior night during the morning of the end of 2.06.

We're going to see that Aziraphale told The Metatron to go fuck himself the night before right around the time that Aziraphale gets off the elevator in Heaven and is brought to... The Metatron. Because the one who took on that appearance and showed up with the coffee in The Final 15 is Satan. Hell doing Heaven's punishing for them a la the Job minisode, as Furfur brought up again just before The Final 15. Then, the actual falling part of Aziraphale's fall happens.

Our angel's a demon now but he's about to become the last angel to fall because the concept of Aziraphale being seen as evil is going to be enough to break the brains of every other character in this show enough that it's going to wind up toppling Heaven and Hell by them challenging The Metatron over it. That would be needed to help some people see what they just watched in The Final 15 differently and set us off running for The Finale.

If they want to show us another era that is closer to modern (by comparison to others lol), didn't they want to do the 1980s at one point? That would be fun. Like with anything, it'd have to be short and critical to the story to make it into The Finale but we don't know what else they have in store for us.

re: Bad Omen... Funny you should mention that... *dark snerk* I do think there was a plan for a Bad Omen-- not within the story but the show itself...

Didja notice how damn neat and tidy what I laid out in that post is? Like, suspiciously neat and tidy? I've had the thought that S2 was done in such a way intentionally that it would be possible for it to be concluded as a season or a movie. The asshole was always a ticking time bomb. I'm sure it was planned with options and I'm glad we get an ending but I've plotted story before and this was left in S2 in a perfect place to go either way with a season or a movie. I don't think that was sheer dumb luck.

S2 went deeper and slower in a way the story needed and it might have seemed like nothing was happening at times but everything really was. People mistake fast, action-oriented scenes for story. It's one of the reasons why the Armageddon threat being over so quickly in 1.06 throws some people. They don't realize that all the legwork to build to that quick dispatching of the threat was the slower-paced stuff they were watching the whole season through. The Finale is going to be the same way. People are freaking out about there not being enough time for flashbacks and it's just like... get Crowley & Gabriel to see what's going on and rally the other characters together and once that's in place within the first third of The Finale? They can end the fascist Mr. Potato Head in the length of time of a commercial break because we already spent S2 watching them get to that place.

Would I want more? Sure. Always. I love this show. Since the news of the film broke, though, have I ever been concerned that the film is too short to handle the main story points left and conclude it in a way that people will love? Not for a single second. It's going to be great.

<<The F15 was essentially the end of act 2. We only have the final act to uncover.>>

Exactly. I think people are concerned because they think that S3 was going to be about Jesus judging humanity and it's not. In a lot of Christian traditions, The Second Coming and Armageddon are more two parts of a whole rather than being the same thing. In order to get to the Jesus part, the war of Armageddon has to already be fought and won. In Good Omens, that would mean Earth would be destroyed and Heaven would defeat Hell. That's not happening. We may well see Jesus again before it's all over but, if we do, it's going to be briefly in some quirky capacity, not because The Second Coming in the Biblical sense was successful.

The Metatron's end goal is to get through Armageddon to The Second Coming but the plot is really Armageddon: Round Two. It's the same as it was in S1-- they have to stop Armageddon. They can do that by coming together and getting rid of The Metatron. That's very do-able with the time that's left because it's really now just a matter of needing something that pulls the characters back together and motivates them to do this-- i.e., needing to help Aziraphale.

The Finale is really more like not having a S3 but, instead, having a bonus, two episode finale to S2. I think it helps to think of it all more like we've only seen six of the eight episodes of S2, which is the final season, because The Finale isn't a separate plot with a new starting place. It's going to pick up where S2 left off.

<<If I was running the show I would hit us up with the flashbacks back to back like in S1, ending on their new arrangement which would feed right into the final 15. Recontextualise everything, and then hit the ground running...>>

Oh, you're a dastardly writer. *grins* I like your style! Just come in hot, flip everything on its head, leave everyone reeling and riveted through to the end. I think it could very well be like that and that would be a lot of fun.

I have a pretty big suspicion that the first scene of The Finale is The Vavoom. Whether that's a one-off scene that flips the kiss in The Final 15 on its head for some people and then goes into the opening title sequence and we're back in the present or whether it's the start of a second cold open, I don't know.

I tend to agree with you that doing a flashback sequence cold open to start The Finale would be pretty amazing. Structurally, I think this is the best place for it to go... in large part because of what could happen immediately in the present on the other side of it.

Imagine they cold open for, like, 25 minutes straight like they did in 1.03 and we go through time with Crowley & Aziraphale again in a half-dozen scenes and now, since they're past the point of needing to duck and weave in order to pull off the S2 twist, these are all pretty openly romantic scenes. The ancient times first kiss, a story around the cottage making us unable to wait for them to go live there, the origins of "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square", the last part of 1941, etc...

...and then, while we're all trying to come up for air? Boom, we're back in the present, where Aziraphale gets off the elevator and is taken to the The Metatron to fall-- and Saraqael takes his memories before he does.

Everything we just finally watched is, for the moment, now gone in the story. We saw it to set up its existence being temporarily erased. Aziraphale goes into the pit of boiling sulphur and... cue the opening title sequence.

They should definitely do that. 😂 People would be screaming.

Ok,Since the Good Omens Finale is only going to be 90 minutes,I have a feeling we might not get a flashback sequence.

Hi there, @rougeside4 💕 I made an apple pie, if you want some. 😊Allow me to offer a different take? I wouldn't worry about this. There will be flashbacks. It's not the show without them.

Short thing on why we're definitely getting flashbacks and on which ones we can maybe see as being very likely still in The Finale.

The secret sauce of Good Omens, imho, is that the real juice of the story is actually always in the flashbacks. The flashbacks that we see are not random; they're always written to support the story in the present. There's a point to why it is these flashbacks we are seeing-- and when and in what order we are seeing them--when Crowley and Aziraphale have been on Earth for over 6,000 years and we could see any of their adventures. They're designed to inform our understanding of the story in the present. The real beating heart of the story is in the scenes set in the past and the story in the present would lack... *searches for words* emotional resonance? thematic weight? general, dramatic oomph? all of these?... if they were to cut the past. Put more plainly: it would suck 😂, and they're smart enough not to do that.

I think some of the most exciting parts of The Finale are actually going to be the flashbacks, just like how they were always the biggest treats in S1 and S2. In the way that they roll those out to us, piece by piece, they're changing our understanding of what we're watching in the present. The meaning of the story in the present is driven by the flashbacks in the past to a point that you cannot have one without the other.

Good Omens is actually driving all of its suspense and anticipation through the story in the past and that's what makes its non-linear storytelling clever. After all, right now, most people know this thing has a happy ending and aren't worried about that, right? We know Crowley and Aziraphale will get back together and be fine and no one is stressing over that. (And if you are... really? Guys. Honestly?! It's called Good Omens. It's a romance. It's a sweet, cuddly show. It's going to be fine. 💕)

So, what are we curious about, if not where it's going in the present?

1941, Part 3, right? Whether or not there's an ancient times vavoom coming our way? What the deal is with Jane Austen and/or 1650? Whether or not we might be surprised with a flashback that hasn't already been set up earlier in the story and what that might be?

Our biggest questions in the story aren't about what will happen in the future but about what we might get to see that has already happened in the past.

There is actually no conceivable way to do The Finale without flashbacks because the entire story is built towards having at least a couple of essential ones happen in its end game. I would not be surprised if at least somewhere around a third of The Finale is set in the past. Are there ones that we would have had with a full season that will be cut? Yes, but, are there also ones, though, that are too essential to cut because the entire story for two seasons has been building towards eventually revealing them to the audience in the final part of the story? Oh, yeah. 😉

Guaranteed: 1941, Part 3. There is no chance that they cut this-- none. They have built the ending of this trilogy of flashbacks to support the ending of the story in the present so it has to happen. It doesn't need to be an entire minisode in length. Part 2 really did all the heavy-lifting with plot and themes here, and Part 1 was a single, brilliant, not terribly long scene. If Amazon reduced The Finale to 15 minutes long, I think the show would still find a way to put 1941, Part 3 in there. The first two parts were so pivotal to the themes and parallels of the story in the present and it's the only flashback that we keep getting installments of throughout the story so its Part 3 is going somewhere massive. If there's one flashback that's in The Finale, it's this one.

Extremely, extremely likely: the ancient times vavoom to which they have been building in clues and hints for two seasons that is going to flip the entire show on its head by going back to The Flood. It would parallel and add extra weight to all the conflicts we have in the story in The Finale that were set into motion by the end of S2-- the kiss, one of them leaving/them being separated, the threat of an apocalyptic-like event, etc.. It would, in almost no time at all, complete the narrative magic trick of the show by turning it inside out for the audience.

The show that shows everything backwards has been sitting on the real first kiss the entire time and saving it until the end game of the story and that end game is The Finale so expect that angel and that demon to be sheltering under a canopy from a rainstorm in the very long ago days and break the internet in the process.

If I were them, I'd even open The Finale with this flashback, just because of how much it's going to pull the rug out from under The Final 15. After all, the first two seasons opened with a canopy-and-rain-themed scene, did they not? Just one wing at a time, though... no under a canopy together yet. No gazing into each other's eyes and vavooming. That bit of the beginning of their story has always been going to be shown to us in the end of the story. It could well be the, well, beginning of the end of that story by opening The Finale. We'll have to see. Either way, it's in there.

It's also worth mentioning that both of these above flashbacks would be going back to eras we've already visited in the story so no time would need to be devoted to setting up the scenes. That would seem to make them easier to not cut, in addition to how narratively important they are.

Going To Be In There In Someway, Somehow: A flashback that sets up the South Downs Cottage ending, which is suspected to be the Jane Austen flashback because of her living in real life in the South Downs around the years that it was mentioned in S2 that Crowley and Aziraphale knew her.

When this was set up for S3 back in S2, the Jane Austen story felt juicy enough to potentially be a whole minisode in length. Maybe especially since it's probably how they are going to be build a history of the cottage between Crowley and Aziraphale to help give emotional weight to them going to live there in the present at the end of the story. I've no idea what this looks like with a shortened run time. They might abbreviate or maybe it was never even that long in the first place? They might do something different in its place? It's hard to say, since we don't know, but they've got to do something to set up the cottage, so...

Whatever this winds up being, though, we're now up to three flashbacks that have to happen because of how they connect to the story in the present in The Finale. These are three, non-negotiable ones, basically-- and we are obviously only looking at ones that we can see having been set up already.

There is also the fact that there's usually a surprise flashback that wasn't set up but which is crucial to the story, like the Job minisode was in S2. It fits in perfectly, retrospectively, but we were intentionally not really given enough in S1 to see it coming in S2 so that there was something unpredictable for us to enjoy. I'm not expecting anything as long as Job again but there could still be a scene more 1.03 Cold Open in length that we don't even know is essential at this point because we aren't meant to know at this point but, much like we did with Bildad 😊, we will see as vital to everything once we see it.

Including that as a possibility, we're now up to four flashback scenes that seem unlikely to be chopped from The Finale. What I just described, give or take and depending on the length of 1941, Part 3, is probably collectively getting within shouting distance of the run time of the 1.03 Cold Open-- and that's going really bare bones and only talking about the scenes that seem too story-essential to consider cutting. There's also one more that might meet that criteria...

Could Go Either Way: 1650. If this has nothing to do with Agnes Nutter, it's probably gone. If it's how Agnes has an appearance in the end of the story to pull stuff together, they'll probably find a way to put it in there because... Agnes. 😊

No one knows what this thing is supposed to be about but we do know that it was set up in S2 for S3 and, between Aziraphale mentioning it, the historical ties to eccles cakes to this era, the fact that it could potentially show a Whickber Street in early development and, most importantly, that it's set five years before Agnes Nutter died, whatever this thing is? It's intriguing. We don't know how long it was meant to be but if it's something that was minisode-length but could be reworked to be shorter-- or if just was always short in length-- it's probably still in there.

It's very possible to have many, quality scenes that hop throughout time in a very short period of time. The 1.03 Cold Open is about 23 minutes long and jam-packed with goodness. I have no idea if they're going to sprinkle flashbacks in throughout The Finale or if they're going to do a flashback sequence like 1.03/Ineffable Bureaucracy again but I do think that at least a third of The Finale-- so, roughly 30 minutes of it, give or take-- are likely flashbacks.

We are going into this movie a lot closer to the end of the story in the present than I think it may appear to some at this point. All the set up work to get the characters into place to overthrow The Metatron in The Finale was already done in S2. It's not going to take 90 minutes for Aziraphale to be in trouble, Crowley and Ineffable Bureaucracy to find out and rally the troops, everyone to challenge The Metatron, expose him as a fraud, and kill the threat of Armageddon by overthrowing Heaven and setting it up to be democratized. That's pretty much what everyone knows needs to happen in The Finale and what is likely going to be the main story in the present in S3.

We know what is going to happen because we know it has a happy ending and we know that we need the Armageddon threat gone for the South Downs Cottage happy ending to occur. We know the only answer is that they've got to overthrow The Metatron. Whether you think the plot is Supreme Archangel Aziraphale or whether you're like me and think the plot is that Aziraphale is in mid-fall as of the end of S2 and that's the thing that triggers the other characters to come together against Heaven, the end result is still going to be the same: The Metatron's gotta go and everyone's got to come together to make that happen if we're getting the happy ending we already know we're getting.

We are all sitting here knowing pretty much exactly what the story in the present is going to be in The Finale and that's because the story has set it up so that we do. Yes, there's going to be joy in watching that unfold but a story designed like a magic trick has to have suspense and give the audience a sense of anticipation. We feel that from this story and from where are we getting that?

The past. The flashbacks.

Everyone knows what the end of this story in the present is but no one knows for sure where, say, 1941 is going, or what new things about Crowley and Aziraphale the past will show us in The Finale. Every new thing we see in the past? Changes our view of the present. That's what makes the story clever. It's also what makes it enjoyable. They cannot cut flashbacks because they'd be cutting the most interesting parts of the story and what makes Good Omens the quirky, unique bird it is.

The present and the past are so interwoven in the story that I'm pretty sure that it is impossible to do Good Omens without flashbacks. The only question going into The Finale is which ones they're going to surprise and delight us with. Don't lose faith or sleep over it-- at minimum, we'll see Crowley's 1941 hat again and that, truly, is all any of us really need to survive.

[pizzapasta23045]

It's upon us...

The day of wreaking is upon us.

[inkskinned]

the thing is there's like, a point of oversaturation for everything, and it's why so many things get dropped after a few minutes. and we act like millennials or gen z kids "have short attention spans" but... that's not quite it. it's more like - we did like it. you just ruined it.

capitalism sees product A having moderate success, and then everything has to come out with their "own version" of product A (which is often exactly the same). and they dump extreme amounts of money and environmental waste into each horrible simulacrum they trot out each season.

now it's not just tiktokkers making videos; it's that instagram and even fucking tumblr both think you want live feeds and video-first programming. and it helps them, because videos are easier to sneak native ads into. the books coming out all have to have 78 buzzwords in them for SEO, or otherwise they don't get published. they are making a live-action remake of moana. i haven't googled it, but there's probably another marvel or starwars something coming out, no matter when you're reading this post.

and we are like "hi, this clone of project A completely misses the point of the original. it is soulless and colorless and miserable." and the company nods and says "yes totally. here is a different clone, but special." and we look at clone 2 and we say "nope, this one is still flat and bad, y'all" and they're like "no, totally, we hear you," and then they make another clone but this time it's, like, a joyless prequel. and by the time they've successfully rolled out "clone 89", the market is incredibly oversaturated, and the consumer is blamed because the company isn't turning a profit.

and like - take even something digital like the tumblr "live streaming" function i just mentioned. that has to take up server space and some amount of carbon footprint; just so this brokenass blue hellsite can roll out a feature that literally none of its userbase actually wants. the thing that's the kicker here: even something that doesn't have a physical production plant still impacts the environment.

and it all just feels like it's rolling out of control because like, you watch companies pour hundreds of thousands of dollars into a remake of a remake of something nobody wants anymore and you're like, not able to afford eggs anymore. and you tell the company that really what you want is a good story about survival and they say "okay so you mean a YA white protagonist has some kind of 'spicy' love triangle" and you're like - hey man i think you're misunderstanding the point of storytelling but they've already printed 76 versions of "city of blood and magic" and "queen of diamond rule" and spent literally millions of dollars on the movie "Candy Crush Killer: Coming to Eat You".

it's like being stuck in a room with a clown that keeps telling the same joke over and over but it's worse every time. and that would be fine but he keeps fucking charging you 6.99. and you keep being like "no, i know it made me laugh the first time, but that's because it was different and new" and the clown is just aggressively sitting there saying "well! plenty of people like my jokes! the reason you're bored of this is because maybe there's something wrong with you!"

[monkayy]