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noremii · 1 day ago

Text

Love Me Right (M)

synopsis: your heart shatters when you find out your husband is cheating on you with another woman. as revenge, you begin a scandalous relationship of your own with the mistress' husband.

word count: 12K+

warnings: cheating, unprotected sex, wall sex, cum eating, fingering, slight exhibitionism, oral (m & f receiving, some questionable actions by characters, softdom!jaemin, big dick jaem

(not proofread)

As the years passed, you failed to notice the lack of attention your husband was giving you. Late nights filled with warm cuddles turned into plenty of excuses of being tired and stressed from work. Your husband giving you just a kiss to the cheek before pulling the sheets over his shoulders and closing his eyes. Yet you refused to think something was wrong. "He's just tired from work" you'd tell yourself every time you had the sour feeling of fear stirring in your gut that your husband was starting to love you less and less everyday.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

Getting married was the happiest day of your life. The excitement you felt the day the prettiest white wedding dress hugged your body was forever imprinted in you head, not being able to hold back a smile whenever you were reminded by the fact you married the love of your life. Every night was filled with childish giggles, snuggling and never ending kisses every where. It was a fairytale life for you.

It was only a while later your husband started acting more giddy. He'd come home from work to greet you with a childish smile, pressing a long kiss to your cheek and mumbling compliments before heading off to shower. You thought things were finally getting better. Maybe he got a promotion? Maybe he was praised by his boss more. Whatever is was, a wave of relief washed over you after that.

"Babe, get ready by 7pm, we're having dinner with a colleague of mine" Your husband said to you one day. "Dress nice, we're going to a pretty fancy restaurant" He says with a dazed smile as he looked through his closet, finding his best suit. You sat in bed, sheets pulled over your legs and a fashion magazine open in your hands. "Oo, what's the occasion and who's this colleague of yours?" You ask. "She's my project partner. We're working together on this project that's going really well with a bunch of other people. I invited the others but they were all busy" Then he turns to look at you with a grin, the suit he was looking for held in one hand. It was ironed beautifully thanks to you. "She's amazing. I can't wait for you to meet her"

You only smiled.

☆

Upon arriving at this fancy looking Italian restaurant, you notice your husband's eyes darting all over the place in search of his colleague. His eyes almost glimmered when he saw her. Your gaze followed his until they landed on the infamous woman your husband had been mumbling about. She was drop dead gorgeous, and part of your self esteem dropped dead in your stomach. You hide the deep inhale you took when you saw her. Like you used to, endless words of comfort flooded your head in attempts to drown out the fear, doubt and over thinking in your head. Thankfully for you, it did in fact manage to calm your nerves down.

"Sejun!" the woman exclaimed happily when the two of you walked closer. Both your husband and her opened their arms for a quick embrace, the smile you had feeling more forced as you wonder if this is a normal thing for coworkers to do. You glanced at her partner, noticing the tint of worry in his eyes that were the same as yours.

Sat next to your husband's colleague was a well dressed man. His hair styled perfectly to bring out the charm of his face. His eyes were just as sparkly as the woman's. Noticing the protective hand that was placed on her lap, you could only assume this man was her boyfriend or even husband.

"I'm y/n" you introduce, smile smaller now as you extend your hand towards his for a handshake - much more normal, you think.

"Jaemin" he introduces in return, reciprocating your friendly smile.

When your husband and his coworker finally let go after what felt like forever, all of you took a seat. You sat opposite of Jaemin while your husband sat opposite his coworker.

"Oh, my name is Hyejoo by the way" she says as if finally acknowledging your presence. Her hand extends towards you and you take it in for the handshake. Her hand yanked away from yours just a second after contact, almost as if she didn't want to be touching you. Your heart sours, feeling weird.

The dinner goes on as it should with Hyejoo and your husband eagerly ordering all the enticing looking dishes that none of you have seen nor tried before. Every so often, you and Jaemin would glance at each other, not very sure what to say to each other or how to act. It felt as though the two of you were kids, forced to sit across from each other as your mums talked away.

"Do you know what project they're working on?" you ask Jaemin with an awkward chuckle to finish your sentence. He responds with an equally awkward smile, shaking his head. "Said it was some big company project too complicated for her to explain. Just told me it was very important" You nod, not knowing what to say next.

Even when the food arrived, placed in front of you with delicious steam floating in the air, not even once did your husband acknowledge you or your food. He didn't ask what you were eating, if he could try a bite. He only thanked the waiter, immediately going back to his conversation with Hyejoo. You looked down, playing with your fingers.

"Hey, you okay?" Jaemin asks when he notices your strange behavior. You force a smile and Jaemin almost believed it. "I think I just had a cramp"

When dinner finally comes to an end and Hyejoo calls it a night, you resist the urge to scream in relief when you feel like your husband wrap an arm around your waist and bid Hyejoo goodnight. Similarly, Jaemin had a hand around Hyejoo's waist, the small barely there smile on his face looking more annoyed and forced the longer you stared. You could almost see him burning your husband with his eyes, jaw getting tense the longer the it took for the two of them to finally stop talking and part ways. The final goodbye leaves their lips after what felt like forever and Jaemin glances over to you, the smile on his face turning from forced to more genuine when he nods his head towards you, that being his own way of saying goodnight. You reciprocate the action and all of you go home.

☆

Honestly, you thought that dinner would be the end of things. You had already met the girl, what else did you have to do? Well apparently, a lot of visiting. Sejun insisted on heading over to Hyejoo's place at least twice a week so that they could have more time to discuss the project. When you asked him why he just had to go to her place to work instead of leaving it till the next day at the office, all he said was "Well, I didn't want you to feel jealous so I thought you might as well come along with me"

You didn't know how to feel about that answer. Some part of you said, aww he cares about my feelings. While the other part of you wanted to hack into his brain and see what was really going on. Were you just overreacting or was this just a really weird thing?

The first time you went over to her place, you hated yourself for being so impressed by the designing of her home. The decor was top tier and her house was absolutely spotless, not a single thing out of place.

"How about a house tour?" She claps happily. "Then I'll start preparing our dinner for tonight"

"That sounds like a great idea!" Sejun responds with a big grin. "You did some reno recently too right? " She hums back in delight. Hyejoo gives a fantastic house tour and when you check your phone, your brows furrow in surprise seeing how it too almost 40 minutes to look around her house. "God I didn't think a house tour would be so tiring" you say with a soft laugh to Sejun while Hyejoo was busy searching her closet for something. "If you're tired you can go rest" He replies, snatching away the little smile you had. His reply was monotone, saying it as if it was dumb of you to not have backed out of the tour midway when you got tired. "Yeah.. " you try to laugh it off but the silence somehow only got louder and louder. "I'm gonna just.. " you point to the direction of the kitchen. When you receive no reply or reaction from Sejun, you just walk away, shoulders slumped and heart souring.

In the kitchen, Jaemin was on his phone munching away on some almonds and quietly laughing at whatever he was looking at. Hearing the footsteps coming closer towards him, he looks up with a glimmer in his eyes and a wide grin. Though both of those sparks slowly die down when he realizes it's only you. "Oh hi y/n." He says, "Done with the tour already?"

You shake your head, taking a seat in front of him. "No, I got tired and thought it'd be a genius idea to go rest since my I'm just so tired" You say almost mockingly with a roll of the eyes. Jaemin, not knowing if he should ask what's up or keep quiet, solves all his problems by sliding over his bowl of almonds to you. "Nuts?"

...

"Alright I hope you guys love steak because I'm great at cooking i- aw shucks" Hyejoo's voice turns poutier when she opens her refrigerator to find a lack of meat. "I thought I bought some just a few days ago" she murmurs. "Jaemin, didn't I buy some steak just two days ago?" She turns around to look at her husband, one hand on her hip and her lips downturned into a pout.

"I think you bought chicken, honey" Jaemin replies. You could see the softness in his eyes as he looked at his wife and you almost envied her. Glancing over to your own husband, you wondered when was the last time he even looked at you that way. "I did? Aw man, I have to go buy some steak now!" Hyejoo exclaims. "Why don't you just use what you've already bought? Saves you the hassle of going out to buy it again' Jaemin says. " I promised Sejun I'd cook him my signature steak. I've been bragging about it all week." Hyejoo replies while grabbing her purse. "Sejun, can you follow me to the supermarket to get some steak? Maybe we can go get some extra stuff for dinner too"

Jaemin's jaw drops open a little, getting out of his seat. "Why don't I just follow you, Hye"

Hyejoo looks up at him and places a tender hand to his cheek. "You stay here with y/n okay? Can't have a stranger all alone in our house" She jokes with a laugh. "No Offense y/n, you're a lovely girl"

You don't even reply, only throwing her an awkward nod and chuckle, trying to make it look like you actually found her lousy joke funny.

"Come on Jun, let's hurry!" Hyejoo grabs onto your husband and pulls him out of the house without another word. "We'll be right back!" you hear her say before the door slams shut and it's locked.

You look over at Jaemin who looks just as defeated as you.

"So... " you begin with an awkward tone, walking over to Jaemin who had his tongue poking at his cheek with an annoyed glare. His glare wasn't towards you yet you could feel the fire burning from his eyes. He was no doubt jealous, and understandably so. You were jealous too. "This is totally normal right?" you ask, taking a seat by the gorgeous marble island, not too far from Jaemin who had slumped into his seat at the dining table.

"I don't know" He mumbles, voice deep and hoarse, not quite in the mood for anything at that point. "I don't have group projects with my colleagues"

"As a gal that works under the marketing department like them... there are times where group projects take a lot of time. Just to make sure everything goes smoothly, y'know?"

Now, Jaemin sits ups right, both hands slamming against the table not in anger, but to make a point.

"This doesn't feel like a project to me. How is this a formal, proper work project if only two members are working on it? This isn't high school where the rest of your group can just laze around while two people work hard on the project"

Getting up, you head over to the dining table and sit across from Jaemin who started looking tenser by the second. "We shouldn't worry too much. There's probably an explanation to all this. After all, they're working under Neo Corp, everyone is crazy busy all the time"

Jaemin lets out a deep exhale, eyes falling shut. "Yeah, you're probably right. I'm just overreacting"

As you provide more words of comfort to the male in front of you, you begin to wonder just how much of your own words you believe.

...

"Seriously? Macarons are way too sweet. I think something like strudels are a much better tea time snack" You reply to Jaemin, the both of you somehow ending up in a long debate about the superior kind of dessert as a way to distract the both of you from your spouse's long work project. "I just love sugar" Jaemin answers with a shrug.

"We're back!" the door opens revealing an excitedly Hyejoo at the back. She almost looked giddy as she held up a plastic bag with steak in it. "Who's ready to have the best steak of their life!"

You and Jaemin look over at each other before raising your hands. "Me"

...

Hyejoo's steak was mouth watering. You and Sejun left the house feeling sleepy and full. Your tongue rolled around in your mouth, desperate to find any remaining flavour from the steak. Even the tiniest hint of residue in your mouth had you humming in delight.

The door to your home closes with a light slam. You stretch and yawn, yearning for the warmth of your bed and your husband. As you finish brushing your teeth and hopping into your bed with your husband following behind, you finally ask him a question that lingered in your head since your earlier conversation with Jaemin.

"Sejun" you begin, your husband humming in response to the call of his name as he slips under the covers next to you. "Why is it that only you and Hyejoo are working so hard on this project together? How about your teammates" You curl up against his arm, the male leaning against you and placing a gentle hand on your head. "Hyejoo and I are the brains of the project. We're in charge of planning everything out, and once we're done with that, the others help to arrange everything. Make sure everything makes sense and looks good. Then we have a final meeting to finalize everything. Am I worrying you by working with Hyejoo too much?"

His calming voice was like poison in your mind. Your eyebrows furrow sadly and you pout, nodding at his question.

"Ngaw.. " he twists his body so that he's able to press a tender kiss to your head. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way, baby. But you don't have to worry about anything okay? Hyejoo is just my colleague. Plus... at the end of the day, I have a gorgeous wife waiting for me at home. I always look forward to that." His words as you sniffling happily, cuddling into him further and throwing a leg over his thighs.

"Thanks for the reassurance" you murmur.

"Of course" He places a hand under your chin, making you look up at him. "I love you" He presses a kiss to your lips. The kiss prolongs, tongues are intertwining with each other and soon enough, he's hovering above you, hand slowly tracing down to your pants.

...

Visits to Hyejoo's place become uncommon for you now. You felt as though your relationship with your husband was going back to normal, and what's even better was that you were forming a pretty lovely friendship with Jaemin. The both of you finding new shared hobbies at every meeting.

"You can cook??" You say with a gasp, Jaemin throwing the cockiest smile and waving a hand at you. "Not gonna brag but, I'm an amazing chef. I had a roommate back in college. That guy wakes me up at 3am everyday just to make him some eggs to satisfy his weird midnight cravings. Kinda fell in love with cooking after that. " Jaemin lets out a chuckle. "Lucky bastard... He got to eat gourmet food as u started learning how to up my egg cooking game. And now I'm here, cooking premium meats every other week"

"Well if you're really the shit, how bout you make some gourmet meal right now" You challenge.

"Sure" Jaemin shrugs, getting out of his seat. "What do you want? Meat? Rice? Pasta?"

Before you can even answer, he's already opening the fridge. "Ah, how about truffle pasta. I'm great at making that. I think you'll love it" He doesn't even turn around to see if you agree, instead taking out everything he needed to make the dish.

Soon enough, Jaemin is washing vegetables, cutting ingredients, preparing to prove to you just how great he is at cooking. Watching him dice onions and garlic with crazy impressive knife skills made your heart dance. Men who could cook will always be insanely attractive to you. And Jaemin fit that standard perfectly. Your own husband had always refused to talk about cooking. Constantly changing the topic before you even get to mention it. Not gonna lie, it pissed you off sometimes but when he said he only felt that way because he was always nagged by his mother and grandmother to cook, you huffed and let it slide.

Watching Jaemin cook was hypnotizing. With every move he made, you could see clearly how he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Bon apetit, madam" he says, laying the beautifully plated truffle pasta in front of you. Your jaw drops at the sight. Presentation was top tier and the smell of it was mouth watering. Something twitched in your chest when you looked up to see him with a cocky smirk on his face. "What are you waiting for? Have a taste" He says. You pick up the fork, twirling the pasta and taking a bite. Needless to say, you almost cried and Jaemin was pumping his fists in the air declaring victory.

...

It was yet another day at Hyejoo's house. Both she and your husband were upstairs in her mini office discussing marketing strategies and new never used ideas. Downstairs, you were with Jaemin watching a scary movie. Just to up the fear factor, you guys watched an Indonesian horror movie. While you were accustomed to the horror style of Southeast Asian horror films, Jaemin was not. With every suspenseful move from the main character, Jaemin was flinching. "Why are the houses in horror films always so dark?" he complains with a grimace, hands twitching about anticipating something big to happen.

"Na Jaemin being a scaredy cat for horror movies was not in my bingo card" you laugh. "Oh, shut up" he replies, sending a smack to your arm right after making you burst out in silent laughter. Your attempts at laughing quietly fail horribly when a jump scare finally happens and Jaemin practically jumps in his seat, buff and heavy body making the couch screech against the floor by barely an inch. "Holy fuccckkk" Jaemin groans out with a hand to his chest, feeling the rapid thumping of his heart beat under his palm. His reaction had you falling on your side curled up into a ball, kicking your feet and you desperately tried to conceal your never ending giggling behind your hand.

"Oh you think that's funny huh" Jaemin says.

You're about to laugh out a yes until Jaemin is attacking you with tickles, jabbing you at sensitive areas as payback for you laughing at his misery. You're kicking at him, trying to pry him off you. One final kick has him losing his balance and he manages to save himself from crashing into you by planting a firm hand next to your head. Na Jaemin was now hovering above you and worst of all, your heart was thumping fast - a bit too fast for your liking. There was nothing but silence between the both of you, but neither of you made a move to get out of this strange, not very appropriate position. You noticed how Jaemin's eyes were slowly examining every feature on your face, and when your own eyes trail down from his eyes to his lips, you see him gulp.

The sound of the upstairs door creaking open and muffled chattering of your respective spouses has the two of you in panic mode, immediately getting out of that position and sitting far apart from each other on the couch. Your throat went dry and you could almost hear the sound of your own heart thumping out of your chest.

"Oh! You guys are watching a movie? How fun!" Hyejoo exclaims as she walks down the stairs. Noticing the dark lighting and flashing scenes, she shivered, mentioning how she hates horror and the rest of her yapping was drowned out by the loud thumping of your heart. You didn't even realize she was bidding you goodnight until Sejun places a hand on your shoulder saying it was time to go home. Just before you exit, you turn your head hoping to get one last glance at him; and you do, he gives you a small smile accompanied by a wave goodnight.

☆

Since that little situation with Jaemin, you've been haunted by dreams with him as the main character. Romantic visuals and the feeling of warmth hugging your heart with every dream that comes your way has you waking up in cold sweat, concerned of the images your brain was constantly presenting you. There was a guilt swarming your chest because every time you woke up from one of those dreams, you felt happy, feeling the sense of cute young love again. But that was wrong. So, so very wrong. You were a married woman and Jaemin a married man. How can you even think of him that way?

"You okay?" Sejun's question breaks you out of your daydream.

"Yeah" you answer, throwing him an awkward chuckle. "Just been having strange dreams, that's all. Dreamt Leonardo da Vinci was hiding a secret behind the painting in our living room. Felt way too real I almost felt skeptical"

Sejun smiles at you awkwardly. "Have you been watching way too much mystery shows, babe? It might be getting to your head."

"Maybe"

"Anyways," he places his empty coffee mug into the sink, walking towards you only to press a kiss to your head. "I'll be home late today okay? Got a team meeting and who knows, we might head out for some late night beer afterwards"

"Really? Again"

"It's for work babe, you know that"

"Yeah but there's no way you have to have a meeting every day right? Aren't meetings supposed to be spaced out every few days so you can do touch ups and what not before the next meeting?"

Sejun lets out a deep sigh. "It's my job, Y/n. Okay? I'm getting paid to do this, so let me do my job"

"Right, fine. I'm sorry" you Huff, waving him off.

"It's alright. I love you, remember that okay?"

"Mhm, I love you too"

"That's my girl" Fingers are placed under your chin and your head is guided upwards where your husband places a tender kiss to your lips.

...

It was 11.30pm and the tummy grumbles you've been trying to ignore for the past hour had finally gotten to you. Throwing on the prettiest coat you own and a pair of easy slip on sneakers, you head towards the bakery just a few blocks away from your apartment. The pastries there were to die for and it was the perfect snack for such a late hour.

Greeted by the aroma of freshly baked goods, you're practically floating as you grab a tray and start picking out all the best parties they had. Maybe you had gotten too greedy, having at least 3 different fruit danishes and a cream puff just because you wanted something soft and fluffy. You pay up and head towards the exit, but you bump into a meaty figure before you could even grab the door handle to leave.

"Oh my god I'm so sor- Jaemin?" you gasp in surprise when you look up to see the man of your dreams (literally) standing right in front of you, dressed in a black turtle neck and light blue jeans. Such simple clothes yet his charm was as visible as ever. You almost wanted to throw yourself out the window when you remember that you're wearing the biggest shirt known to man kind and draped in a pretty coat that did not match your outfit at all.

"What a coincidence!" Jaemin sings, wide smile plastered on his face. "What are you doing here at such a late hour?"

"Sejun is still out at the office for a meetings" You Huff, crossing your arms. "And I got hungry so I decided to get something to eat."

"Same! Hyejoo is still working and it's really boring at home. My mouth is starting to get bored so I decided to come out and grab a a snack too." Then Jaemin snaps his fingers. You could practically see a light bulb shining brightly above his head. "Why don't we have a drink together? Like coffee or tea while we eat our pastries. Whaddya say?"

The offer was tempting. Terribly tempting. Going home was boring cause you'd only be watching more tv and eating your pastries alone. Having a night time tea time with Jaemin didn't sound like a bad idea. In fact, it sounded like a great idea.

"I'm in"

The male beams, smiling from ear to ear. "Grab a table. I'll order more pastries and some drinks. Just tell me what you want"

Not too long after, you and Jaemin are seated across from each other with a large tray of pastries. There was a hot long black for Jaemin and a hot cocoa for you.

"Isn't this great?" Jaemin asks, picking up his favorite macaron and taking a bite. "Tea time at midnight? Really interesting if I do say so myself, surprised this place is even still open at this hour."

You chuckle, agreeing with him as he takes another bite.

"Hyejoo never does these kind of things with me anymore. All of a sudden, she's the busiest person I know and we're barely spending time together." Jaemin is grabbing another macaron to eat, the glimmer in his eyes fading slightly. "I know this sounds crazy but it almost feels as though we're strangers... it sounds insane because I'm literally married to her. Yet it feels like I'm living with some random girl"

"Hey... It's alright. Things happen y'know? People get busy. But she's just working, nothing to worry about." You tell him.

"But I do worry. " He says. "Feels like she's hiding something from me but I don't have any proof. When I ask, she tells me it's nothing. And when I think too deeply on it, I'm wondering if I'm the problem. Amni doing something wrong? Is that why she's hiding something from me?"

"I don't think she's hiding anything, Jaemin. I don't know. But I too am just trying to be open minded. Marketing does get hectic sometimes..."

Jaemin sighs, grabbing a Danish and terrifyingly, he downs it in one bite - mouth puffing up like a chipmunk.

The heavy mood slowly begins to fade when you compare Jaemin to a chipmunk with his full cheeks. The man, although feeling a heavy weight on his heart cracks a smile.

"Do i?" he asks with full cheeks and you nod with a smile.

Jaemin chews his food properly, chipmunk cheeks gone.

"Aw, chipmunk Jaem has disappeared" you say with a faux pout. "I'll miss him so much he was kinda cute"

"Oh really?" The mood lightens up fully now. As the night goes on, you and Jaemin continue to joke around, get into more silly debates and talk about your first times doing different things. The heavy mood from earlier had long faded away and Jaemin was feeling much better. There was a happy warmth swarming his chest everytime you smiled and laughed. Each time you giggled, he was determined to see more of it, cracking more silly puns and making weird facial expressions just because it cracked you up so much. For the first time in a while, Jaemin felt free of his own thoughts. There was no worry and fear lurking in his head, just serotonin and silliness.

Eventually, the shop begins to close, meaning it was time to wrap up.

"Tonight was great" Jaemin says. "Though it was only an hour, I had a great time. I don't feel sad anymore. Thanks"

"Pffft" You wave him off. "It was nothing. Just two friends hanging out. But yeah, I had a great time too thanks to you"

As Jaemin debates what to do next before the two of you part ways, he's almost terrified when an image pops into his head and disappears before he could fully register it.

"You can't do that, you're a married man" He screams at himself in his head. When he finally realizes he's been talking to himself for a bit too long, he snaps out of it and opens his arms. "Hug?"

You agree, almost jumping at his action but you manage to hold back, going in for a normal hug like normal people do. Like normal friends do.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow night? I know they're gonna meet up for the project again at your place"

"Yeah, they are." Jaemin clears his throat. "Then uh, goodnight! Get home safe alright. Oh- you should give me your number so I can make sure you get home safely. I don't know what I'd do with myself if I knew you got hurt"

"Right- uh" Jaemin hands you his phone and you tap your number into his phone.

"Send me a text when you get home alright?" Jaemin says.

"Will do. Night!" You send him a wave and he waves back.

The both of you walk in the opposite direction back home.

As he walks home, Jaemin's mind goes haywire with the image of him kissing you goodnight running through his head, replaying over and over. Meanwhile, you have a hard time shaking off the the memory of embracing Jaemin. His scent and warmth so comforting to you, almost intoxicating.

"What's wrong with me..." The both of you mumble to yourselves.

☆

"11pm.. " you mumble to yourself, leg tapping anxiously against your carpeted floor while your eyes were glued onto the digital clock next to your TV. Hours after your husband's work dinner was supposed to end, he was still no where to be seen. Calls were not being picked up, messages were left on delivered, you were going insane. Bottling up with anxiety and fear, you get up from the couch, grab your keys and drive off to the location of your husband's work dinner.

"Sorry ma'am, they left about 2 hours ago" The cashier tells you and part of you wanted to scream.

"Ah, I see. Thanks" you give the lady a smile and exit. Once back in the car, you fold your arms, head leaned back against the headrest. "Where would they go after a work dinner... " The first answer that came to your mind was Jaemin's house. Maybe after dinner, Sejun and Hyejoo decided to go back and continue working. As you send Jaemin a quick text to ask if they were there, a wave of annoyance flushes through you. But you'd much rather have your husband over at their place than being in danger god knows where.

Jaemin: no, they're not here either. hyejoo isn't picking up my calls too.

Jaemin's answer makes your stomach drop. Well fuck, if they weren't there, where else could they be?

You: I'm gonna go to their office. hopefully they're there, if not I'm seriously gonna file a police report.

Jaemin: I'll head to their office too.

Parking outside the office building, you greet the security guard that you see every day when sending lunch boxes over to your husband.

"Hi, Mr Noh" you greet. "Did you see Sejun? They had a company dinner hours ago and h3 isn't picking up my phone calls"

"Oh, Sejun was just here a while ago. I haven't seen him leave yet so I think he should still be inside" Mr Noh replies and a wave of relief washes over you.

"Thank god" you Huff in relief. "Thank you so much" Giving Mr Noh a thanksful Pat on the shoulder, you speed walk into the office and up the elevator, pressing on the floor that your husband worked on.

The hallways were dim and quiet, just a few emergency lights giving light in the hallways. the dead silence made it feel like you were in a horror movie, serial axe murderer or vengeful ghost hiding somewhere in the shadows, preparing to attack. As your mind continued to play tricks on you by convincing you that you saw moving shadows, the sound of a giggle makes you jolt.

Fuck, is this place really haunted?,, you wondered. Then there was another giggle, but this time it was deeper, like it came from a male.

"I can't believe we're doing this here" the female voice says. You felt your stomach stir, instantly recognizing the voice that belonged to Hyejoo. "We work on this desk" she says.

"That's what makes it thrilling isn't it?"

Yeah, you were about to vomit. Because that was your husbands voice. You could never be more sure. Of course, you've heard his voice for years. It was the same voice who hummed songs to you to help you fall asleep on restless nights.

"You're right" she says with a giggle. The male - your husband, lets out a low chuckle. Then there's to sound of lips being pressed against each other. Loud, sloppy, then there's moaning and groaning. Your legs began to give out, slapping a hand over your mouth to stop you from screaming and crying out loud. The moans get louder, the sound of clothes being taken off and what you could only assume to be the office desk creaking. You wanted to kill him. You didn't even have to take a peek to know what they were doing. Finally, you find the strength to run out the building, holding it the tears threatening to spill out and show just how weak you felt.

When you got to the ground floor, elevator doors opening, you made a run for it. Far from them, you cried freely. Sobbing into your palm, your vision got blurry from the tears. With your blurry vision, you didn't notice as you ran straight into a muscled body. Then it finally hit you that Jaemin said he'd be coming too. You sniff, looking up to see Jaemin's concerned face.

"What's wrong?" he asked, voice laced with so much genuine concern that you dropped to your knees, sobbing and Jaemin getting on his knees to be on your level.

"They- they" God, you couldn't even speak properly, throat constricting, struggling to even breath. The only thing you could do was grab Jaemin's forearm, gripping so hard that you knew you were going to mark him. "I heard them." you force yourself to mutter. "They were kissing. And they're about to do God knows what else up there"

Jaemin didn't even need to ask who you were talking about. The suspicions he'd been trying to store away finally coming to light with your words. His eyes tear up, but he sucks in a deep breath trying to stay strong. It's hard, he wants to scream and break something. He couldn't do that. So, he closed his eyes and pulled you into his embrace, rubbing a hand up and down your back as you cried into his chest, keeping your strong grip on his forearm. It hurt, but Jaemin preferred this physical rather than the one tearing at his heart.

After minutes, he lifts you up with him. "Let's go." he says.

You stop your crying to look up at him, confused. "Where do we go? Do we just go home and pretend as if nothing happened?"

He shakes his head, not saying a thing but instead guiding you to his car.

"What about my car?" you asked as you opened the door to the passenger seat, guiding you inside. "Let them see. Let them realize that we know" he replies, closing your door and walking over to the driver's seat. He starts the engine, eyes lacking its usual spark. "We're going to a hotel"

---

Jaemin drives the both of you to the furthest hotel from your neighbourhood, claiming that the two of you needed this distance. He books a room for the both of you to stay the night in. Unfortunately the only room available had a queen bed and a single bed. Jaemin gladly let you take the queen sized bed.

With no other clothes but the ones you arrived in, the two of you just decide to get into bed and get some rest, or at least try to.

Neither of you open your mouths to talk about what happened. Hearts aching and anger boiling in your veins, you began to tear up. Your son of a bitch brain playing disgusting scenes of the traitor you once loved with that sly fox. Giggling and touching in the quiet office room at the dead of night. Your fists clenched, wanting nothing more than to punch the both of them bloody. You didn't even realize you began sobbing out loud until your bed dips and you hear Jaemin's honey voice, as sweet as ever despite the fact he was probably and also most likely fighting ten different emotions at the same time.

"Hey, it's alright" Jaemin says in attempt to comfort you. He didn't know what to say, still trying to wrap his head around this new reality. "It's none of our fault"

You sit up in your bed and look at Jaemin with your blood shot eyes. "Of course it isn't" You sniff, using your hand to wipe away a tear that slipped from your eye. "They're the fucking traitors here. How long have they been doing this behind our backs?" You question, voice getting louder as rage begins to flood your entire system. You've never been a violent person, but now you sure as hell wanted to get violent. "He's been sweet talking me for weeks. Telling me everything is fine while he's been screwing some girl behind my back. And he dares" You had to pause, head feeling heavy from all the pent up anger.

"He dares to make me feel loved when he knows he barely feels a thing for me anymore. That's my last straw. " Jaemin cups your face with his hand, thumb brushing away the tears that began streaming down your face. "Do I look fucking stupid to him? Like a toy that he can play with when he felt like it? Does he-" you're silenced when Jaemin leans in pressing his lips against yours. Your brain goes haywire with the way his soft lips began to move against yours like a spell with you following in pursuit. Eyes falling shut as you indulged.

Acting like this didn't make either of you a better person. But in the moment, you felt like you deserved this. The feeling of being loved properly. The feeling of being loved by a man.

The kissing gets deeper as Jaemin adjusts his body to face you properly, both his hands now cupping your cheek as he swipes a tongue against your lower lip to which you gladly let him intrude. You fall back into the bed, soft mattress engulfing your body. Hands roam his back and his sly hands trace themselves from your stomach to the waistband of your bands. The two of you finally pull away, Jaemin's hands one move away from intruding your private space.

"Is this the right thing to do?" Jaemin murmurs quietly, hot breath against your lips. You could feel how unsure he felt, being on the thin line between desire and the urge to get revenge on both your spouses. You were on the same boat as him, but your mind was hazy, seeing nothing but red. There was no lie that you had unwillingly felt a strong attraction to Jaemin, his small actions making you feel more loved in comparison to the many so called grand gestures your husband tried to do just for the sake of it. Jaemin was hot and kind, the perfect blend of a man that you liked. And here you were, caged in his arms with his hands barely centimeters away from your pussy. You've been played by your no good son of a gun husband, it was only fair that you played him as well.

"Who cares" you whisper against his lips. "They fucked us over, now it's time we do the same to them"

A switch flips in his brain and Jaemin no longer felt guilty. You were right. He had been screwed over with sweet words and gestures, only to be the fool at the end. He wanted to play too. Plus, you were gorgeous, and he hated that you made him feel whole whenever the two of you hung out while your partners were busy working upstairs. Which now you both knew that they were probably fucking rather than working.

His hand finally breaches the elastic of your shorts, middle finger teasing your damp slit through your panties that only got wetter the longer the two of you kissed. Then finally, he pulls your panties to the side and slips a finger in. You pull away from his lips to squeeze your eyes shut and moan as his single digit rubbed your walls so nice. When he added a second finger in, you felt the way he curled his fingers and his blunt nails scratched your g-spot just right.

"Fuck" Jaemin groans, blood rushing to his cock the longer he pumped his digits in and out of your slick hole. "You're so tight... " He directs his focus from his hand in your pants to your eyes. "Does he even fuck you enough?"

You don't know why but his words make you moan. The room was dark and cold, you could barely make out his features properly and the sound of his fingers pumping in and out of your hole echoed in your ears. You shake your head.

"No, he doesn't" Jaemin pouts. "You poor thing. It's okay.. " He leans into you, lips centimeters away, fingers pulling out if your wet hole. You want to whine but then he's pulling your pants down with one hand. "I'll take care of you" he whispers before planting a kiss on your lips and pulling away to sit on his knees finish getting rid of your shorts and wrecked panties.

Under the yellow light from the lamp on your nightstand, Jaemin could see the mess he made between your thighs. An insatiable hunger grows in his stomach, leaving you no room to process a single thing before he's on his stomach and your thighs are resting against his shoulders.

He kisses up your thigh slowly until he reaches your core, taking a second to admire his piece of work. "God, you're breathtaking" he mumbles. "May I?"

He didn't even have to ask yet he still so politely did so. You give him a nod and you see him flash a greedy smile before his lips attach itself to your cunt and he flicks his tongue on your bud. You throw your head back with a moan, eyes involuntarily squeezing shut at the sensation. Jaemin is motivated by your sweet noises and begins to devour you like a man starved for centuries. He's relentless with his tongue, swirling around your bud just right and lapping up your slit like a dog.

You were in heaven.

Head from your husband didn't even feel this good.

Yet Jaemin was bringing heaven to you, spoiling you with pleasure as he sinks his tongue into your hole, working it in and out and bringing a thumb to rub your clit.

"Fuck fuck fuck please don't stop" you plead in an embarrassingly high voice, pushing his head deeper into your cunt. Your actions only make him greedier. His tongue is back to focusing on your clit while his slender fingers breach your hole again. The pace and alternative movements is perfect. Your toes are curling and your thighs are clenching around his head. With a moan, you come undone on his tongue and the man under you laps up every drop of your release until you're clean.

"Goddamn, " he rises from his position, mouth glistening with your release. "You taste like heaven. Too much of this and you might get me addicted." His sweet words make your hole clench, yearning for more. He gets on all fours, caging you in his arms once again. His dark brown eyes burn right through yours with lust. You think you're over thinking when you feel like he's looking at you with genuine admiration amongst the cloud of desire fogging his eyes. It makes your heart thud.

"Do you want more?" he asks, voice deep and playful. You nod and he gets up on his knees.

"Show me just how much you want me" He nods down at his jeans. "Get me hard"

You gulp, getting up from your position in bed to sit on your knees. Jaemin gets off the bed to stand right at the edge, making it easier for you to unbutton his jeans, pull the zipper down and free his semi hard cock from the constraints of his boxers.

"Go ahead" he says, noting the way you practically salivate at the sight of his cock. Barely hard, but you knew he'd be monstrous when he's ready.

His length is heavy in your hand, big enough that you're unable to fully wrap a fist around his cock.

You bring the tip to your mouth, kitten licking it. His cock twitches and it encourages you. Bringing his dick to your mouth, you suck on the head a few times, focusing on swirling your tongue against his sensitive tip before you are taking his cock inch by inch into your mouth. You could feel him getting hard the more you bobbed your head up and down. Jaemin groans, placing one hand on your head gently, unmoving. "Just like that" he says with a breathy groan. His praise makes you gleam, releasing his length only lick a stripe underneath his shaft and letting your mouth continue its administrations.

The way he begins to grip your hair was a telltale sign that he was getting closer. With the determination to make him cum as hard as you did, you focus on his tip, using your hand to pump the rest of his shaft. Jaemin is practically tugging your hair, the sweet burn in your scalp sending an electric shock to your throbbing clip. Vulgar words are slipping from Jaemin's sweet lips as he finally cums; hot load filling up your throat.

"Fuck" hid grip on your hair loosens and he's panting hard, recovering from the mind blowing head he just got. "You did so well.. " he opens his eyes, lips curling up into a smirk. You smile at him, opening your mouth to show him the cum that sat in your mouth. Without breaking eye contact, you swallow his load, licking your lips in delight.

His cock twitches and he's greedy again, yearning to feel your tight walls wrapped around his cock that stands tall once again; hard and ready to go.

"Since you just sucked the soul out of me, " Jaemin began, "it's only right that I return the favour, isn't it?"

"And how do you intend to repay me?" You ask, batting your eyelashes at him, hole clenching and heart racing with the way he teased you.

Jaemin beckons you over to him and you gladly crawl to the end of the bed to get into his embrace. He dips his head in the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale. Then you feel his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear before whispering: "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't even remember his name"

"Do it then" you mutter under your breath, reciprocating hid actions and whispering into his ear. "Fuck me hard."

Jaemin lets his hand wander down to the curve of your ass, giving it a squeeze then tapping your hip signaling for you to jump which you do. He catches you easily, walking over to a wall and pressing you against the cold surface. "Ready?" He asks and you nod. Using the sheer strength of his biceps and thigh muscles, he lifts you higher. And when he lowers you down, you feel the bulbous tip of his cock pressing against your entrance. "Scream for me" And he sinks you on his cock. Fat girth stretching you wide and nice, length reaching places you're sure your husband never reached before. To Jaemin's delight, you do in fact scream his name. Your voice was airy and filled with desire, Jaemin basks in the sound of you and begins lifting you up and down on his cock, using those beautiful muscles to fuck you like a toy.

"Ah fuck!" you gasp, feeling him hit your cervix. His pace was relentless and imagining the way his muscles bulged as he brought you down on his cock over and over with no signs of tiredness had you moaning his name like a mantra.

"You're so tight" he manages to say with only a slight hint of struggle. "He doesn't take care of you he way I do, right?"

You shake your head. "N-never" God he was so deep. You felt him everywhere.

"Is that so?" Jaemin coos. His pace begins to slow down and you're able to feel every single vein in his cock along your walls. "I bet he doesn't even know how to make you moan the way I do" Once again, you shake your head.

To your dismay, he pulls his cock out of you, setting you down on your feet. "You poor thing. I have to set an example for him and he isn't even here" he says with an exaggerated sigh. "Well, " he guides you back to the bed, getting you on your hands and knees. "That's too bad isn't it. " His hand roams on the globes of your ass, sighing as he feels the smooth skin under his hot palm. "I guess he'll never get to learn just how to please a woman correctly" His hand grips his cock, giving himself a few pumps before running the top up and down your slit. "He'll continue to sit at home, fucking my wife with his mediocre skills, while I make his own wife, my queen in bed." he slips in, and you bite your lip. "His loss. " Jaemin finishes his sentence with a hard thrust.

"I make it up to you on his behalf, alright pretty?" His hips begin to move and you let out a content sigh. "What do you say when someone is treating you like a princess hm?" Jaemin asked with a pointed thrust.

"T-thank you" you stutter, words becoming harder to pronounce, brain going mushy. All the anger that you felt earlier, now clouded by the desire to cum.

"What was that?" his hands trail to your hair, wrapping a fistful in his palm.

"Thank you" you say again, louder this time. But Jaemin was not satisfied.

"I'm sure you have a better vocabulary than that" Now, he pulls your hair, bringing your back to his chest. "Now let me repeat again, what do you say when someone treats you this nicely?"

"Thank you for fucking me so good, Jaemin" Your sentence is rewarded with another thrust. "Thank you so much" you moan out. And finally , Jaemin is satisfied. "You're welcome, pretty"

His hips regain its momentum and he's abusing your hole with his thrusts. Jaemin focuses on chasing his orgasm now, gripping your hips tightly and leaving marks on your soft skin. "Fuck, you feel so good" he groans, throwing his head back. He feels so so good, you think. The way he gripped your hips, his seductive words, and the precise thrusts. This was singlehandedly the best sex you were having in your life. Jaemin leaves trails of wet kisses down your neck, pausing once in a while to groan into your ear. The hand that was grabbing your hair relaxes and makes its way down your clit, rubbing circles.

"Yes yes yes" you cry, feeling your stomach tighten with the incoming orgasm.

"Fuck" Jaemin spits. "Where can I cum, pretty?" He struggles to say, his own incoming orgasm messing his ability to speak.

"Inside. Please cum inside me, Jaemin. Please" The way you begged, the way you began pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts, Jaemin was going insane. His left hand wraps around your waist, holding you tighter against him.

"Fuck, I'm cumming" he moans.

"Me too"

"Cum for me, pretty. Cum on my cock" His lips find its way back to your mouth and you kiss him back. Everything felt too good to be true and finally, you come undone on him. Jaemin spills into your welcoming hole minutes later and the both of you collapse onto the bed. His soft cock slips out of you and you both start to pant.

There's a moment of silence and Jaemin gets out of bed to go to the washroom. The lack of his presence in that minute made your heart clench. The both of you just crossed the line the way your spouses did. Now what?

You don't even have time to think about the consequences when Jaemin comes back with a small wet towel.

"Was I too harsh?" he asks, voice so soft it made your heart clench and melt at the same time. You give him a small smile nd shake your head. "That was the best sex I've ever had"

He smiles in return, placing the wet cloth between your legs and cleaning all the residue.

He takes care of you well after he made you orgasm so hard on his dick. It was such a sweet moment that you contemplate if you should open your mouth and talk or bask in the ambience until the next day. The latter idea sounded so good, but you had to keep yourself grounded.

"Now what" you ask Jaemin. "We're no better than our spouses now. We had sex, they had sex... What now? Do we pretend nothing happened? Go back to our lives and act like this was all a dream?"

Jaemin is quiet. He doesn't know either.

"Do you still love him?"

You pause.

The man you once loved and dreamed of growing old with just played you like a fiddle. He drowned you in sweet lies and indulged you, all as a distraction to hide to fact he was fucking someone behind your back. How could you love someone who toyed with you like that. Despite the years of happiness he gave you, you were uncertain he would even gain your trust again.

You shake your head. "I can't love a man who sees me as an idiot in his sick game. But what about you, do you still love her?"

Jaemin smiles and looks down. But you could see the pain that he hit behind that smile. The look of uncertainty in his eyes. "This isn't the first time... " He says. "Well, it's the first time I actually know she cheated on me. Other times, I just noticed how flirty she got with the men at her office. Right after we got married, she flaunted her ring to her friends. Now that I think of it, she wasn't just showing off to the girls. She showed off to the men too. It was like some sick game of hers. She was officially taken now, are they still up for the challenge to get her attention?" He looks back up at you. "That's how I saw it. But I was so blind. I was blinded by her sweet smile, the way she reassured me saying it was nothing. And I was a fool to believe her. "

The two of you sat there in silence, dread filling up your systems. The sex you had was great, but it was too soon to help either of you get over what happened today.

"We'll play with them too" You speak, breaking the silence. Jaemin looks at you confused and you elaborate. "We were a pawn in whatever game they're playing. Now we toy with them back. And if they catch us, so what? What are they gonna say? Oh no, how could you do this to me?" You mocked. "But they were the ones fooling around first"

"You want us to go behind their backs as payback?"

You nod.

Jaemin thinks his choices for a second. There's hesitancy in his eyes, but after what seemed like a flashback playing in his mind, he agrees.

"Let's do it"

---

The next morning, Jaemin drives you back home where you see the car you drove to your husband's office parked outside the house. He had called you over 10 times last night and you ignored every single one of them.

"Looks like he's home" you say to Jaemin.

"Want me to walk you in?" he asks and you nod, grateful.

Turning off the engine, Jaemin escorts you to the front door of your own house. The both of you pause in your steps seeing both your spouses sitting on the couch looking disheveled.

"Baby!" your husband exclaims, walking up to you with his arms open and pulling you into a tight hug. "I saw your car at the office last night. I didn't know you came over"

You stiffen, pressing the nail of your thumb into your pointer finger, suppressing your anger as you watched him act innocent.

"Where did you go? I called you so many times last night. The car was there but you were no where to be found" he says.

"I wanted to look for you last night and bumped into Jaemin.... We were about to go into the office building but I started feeling so sick so he drove me to the hospital to have a check up" You explain, looking up at him with the most sorry eyes you could do. "I'm sorry, I should've called you but I was so tired"

"I'm just glad you're okay" he sighs, kissing your head. "So what were you diagnosed with?"

"Food poisoning"

"Oh god... You need to rest, babe. Come, I'll bring you to bed" he holds onto your hand but you stay in place.

"I'm fine now, really. Don't worry" you reassure him with a smile. Then you look over at Hyejoo. "Jaemin is a really kind man. He really took care of me well last night" You shoot a look towards Jaemin who nods.

"Aw, that's so sweet of you, Nana" Hyejoo cheers, reaching up to pinch his cheeks. His body stiffens but both Hyejoo and your husband are none the wiser.

Hyejoo and Jaemin go home after a few more words and your husband insists on you staying in bed. Placing an empty bucket next to your bed, he kisses your forehead and tells you to get well soon. You only know how to smile and close your eyes.

☆

Your revenge plan was set in stone once you've fully 'healed' from your food poisoning and visiting Hyejoo's home became the normal once again. This time, they were so close to finishing their project with just the final touches left.

While the two of them were in Hyejoo's office probably screwing around, you sat on Jaemin's lap in the laundry room, mouths connected and tongues intertwine.

"Fuck... " Jaemin groans, feeling the way you rolled your hips against his Jean clad hard on. "You're driving me insane... "

"Mm... I know.. " you whisper, hand finding its way to the button of his jeans; unbuttoning and unzipping his pants to pull his cock out from his boxers. "I like to see you excited" you peck him on the lips. "Because it makes me excited too" you stroke him slowly, making sure to rub the tip of his dick with the pad of your thumb. When he throws his head back in pleasure, you latch your lips on his neck, kissing and licking the skin. Your pace begins to quicken and the hold Jaemin has on your hips grows tighter as he came closer. His eyes were squeezed shut, teeth chewing on his bottom lip and finally a groan escaping his cherry red lips as he came into your hand.

You drag a finger on the underside of his sensitive and twitching dick, collecting the cum that was dripping from the tip. When his eyes open again and meet yours, you stick your tongue out, dragging the cum covered finger down your tongue, letting him watch you swallow it.

"You're the devil" he mumbles. Your lips curl up. "I know"

Getting up, Jaemin presses his lips against your, holding you in his arms and turning your around until your butt hits the dryer. When he pulls away from your lips, he takes a step back to yank your pants down before making you face the dryer and bending you over.

"I'll never get tired of this ass" he says, giving it a slap. "But most of all" he traces his finger along your underwear, pulling it to the side as his eyes glimmer at the sight of your wet cunt. "I don't think I'll ever get enough of this pussy" He sheathes himself into your hole in one go, grabbing onto your hips with a good pace. He thrusts deep into you with every move of his hips, pounding you just right.

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop" you repeat, gripping onto the dryer, feeling him reach all the right spots. For a man who was fucking you just to get revenge on his cheating wife, he sure was putting passion into it, putting effort into moving his hips with the right pace to make you feel good.

"I'm gonna cum. Are you close, pretty?"

You nod ferociously.

The thrusts of his hips begin to slow and he places a hand under your right thigh, lifting it up against the dryer and splitting you open. He readjusts his stance, pulls his cock out all the way to the tip before shoving it back in. The force of his thrust leaves your mouth agaped in a silent moan. His hips are relentless, and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

Lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin fills the small room along with pants and groans.

"Fuck!" Jaemin groans, spilling into your hole with his warm load. He doesn't even let himself bask in his orgasm, instead overstimulating himself until he feels you clench around his dick and feels you release all over him.

When he releases your leg, you turn around to face him. He's panting, neck and face gleaming with sweat. You feel a clench in your heart as you examine his soft features, feeling your chest thump with excitement when your eyes meet his and he's smiling at you so sweetly. It makes you smile too. Then you're in your arms, cheek pressed against his chest, feeling him shift around before you feel a small handkerchief being dabbed on your forehead, wiping away your sweat.

"Don't worry, it's clean" Jaemin reassures. You don't even answer, only nodding and enjoying the moment. At that moment, nothing felt better than being in Jaemin's arms.

---

It was the last night you would ever possibly be going over to Jaemin's place. According to your husband, all they had to do was do a final review and this would all be over. Hyejoo was extra pouty today, claiming that she enjoyed working with your husband so much over the course of this project. You couldn't stand the look on her face. The way she pouted and whined about how this all was gonna be over. But you were sad this was about to end too. The future after tonight looking blurry, not exactly sure what would happen next. Your plan so far was to divorce your husband and that was about it. But first, you wanted to get caught; see their reaction and whatever stupid excuse they would say after.

In the kitchen, you and Jaemin prepared a fruit salad to end the night. A tray of strawberries, watermelon and other berries were placed on the counter. The taste of watermelon was sweet against your tongue but not as sweet as the feeling of Jaemin abusing your cunt with his fingers. Your knees buckled, trying to keep your stance but it was too hard when every drag of his fingers in your gummy walls felt like euphoria. "What do you think they'll say when they catch us?" Jaemin asks between kisses. "How would your husband feel, seeing the way his wife crumbles in pleasure by another man. And even worse, when he sees you enjoy me more than him"

You bite your lip, slick leaking around Jaemin's fingers, struggling to even answer him. "I hope he feels embarrassed."

Lost in the way his fingers played with your sensitive spot, the two of you fail to hear the sounds of footsteps entering the kitchen, only being brought back down to earth when Hyejoo screams. "What the fuck!"

The worse part is, Jaemin doesn't stop. Even as the embarrassment begins to sleep through your skin, you say nothing either. It only takes a moment until your legs give out and you release on his fingers. Jaemin brings his lips to his mouth, sucking his fingers and humming in delight before acknowledging the extra presence in the kitchen. "Oh, I didn't see you guys there"

You fix yourself up, putting on a cold demeanor when you lock eyes with your husband who's eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

Hyejoo is humiliated by Jaemin's words. The way he acted like he didn't even notice her despite her scream.

"What the fuck are you doing, Jaemin?" Hyejoo screams again, eyes turning red and wet with tears.

The male shrugs. "Just having fun" he pauses before he locks eyes with your husband instead. "Like the two of you were doing"

Hyejoo takes a good second to react. No words are said but she storms up to Jaemin ready to slap him, but her attempt fails miserably when he catches her wrist before it can even land on his cheek. He pulls in her and you wince, feeling a sting in your heart as you watch.

He leans into her neck, taking a whiff.

"That's not my cologne.. " he mutters, pulling away. Then he brings her wrist in front of him to examine. "And your wedding ring is gone... Where is it, baby" The once sweet pet name now sounded like poison. The words slicing through Hyejoo's victimized face and you notice her gulp.

"You smell like a man, your wedding ring is gone and another man's lips is swollen. Now tell me exactly what you've been doing, Hyejoo." Jaemin stated firmly. "For how many nights under my own roof have you been screwing with another man?"

"You're wrong!" she exclaims. "You prick, I told you we were working"

And as if things couldn't get even more humiliating for the poor girl, Jaemin sneaks a hand under his skirt. But rather than looking embarrassed to be touched with an audience, Hyejoo instead looks defeated.

Jaemin's jaw clenches at the affirmation.

"You're wet. Why."

"Fine!" she finally breaks. "I cheated on you"

"Hyejoo-" your husband interferes and your own jaw clenches at the way he looked at her, ready to shield her from all this humiliation with a look in his eyes that you've never seen before towards you.

"You're just so boring!" she admits, voice cracking and you didn't know if it was because she was guilty or because she's angry she got caught and the fun was all over. "I needed something new. Something to excite me. I needed a thrill."

"So you screwed behind my back because it was... exciting?"

She looks down, and nods.

Jaemin pulls away and takes a step back away from her.

"Get out"

Hyejoo's head shoots up. "W-what?" her eyes are glimmering with tears and her lips trembling.

"I said get out" Jaemin looks over at Sejun. "You too. Everyone but Y/n, get out of my house" He points towards the door.

"But Jaemin.. "

"Now!" He finally breaks, yelling. Hyejoo bites her lips, stating at Jaemin with rage as if he was being the asshole her. She grabs her purse on the couch and gets ahold of your husband's hand to storm out.

Your legs move quick before your mind even registers it, running to your husband and pulling him out of Hyejoo's grip.

"Y/n I-" his head whips to the side when you slap him right across the face with all the strength you could muster. In front of you was the man you dreamt about for years, the man you trusted with your whole heart. Yet he says nothing to you, letting his mistress drag him out of the house without sparing a moment for you.

"I trusted you" you speak, voice failing you as it cracks and a rush of years fill your eyes faster than your like. "And you play me like a stupid fool for weeks... "

The stupid man says nothing, not even bothering to look back at you and apologize.

"Let's go! " Hyejoo yanks him away and the idiot walks away like you were nothing to him.

The tears flow freely from your eyes now, and you quickly head back into the house before either of them see you in your weakest moment.

When the door slams shut behind you, you're on your knees sobbing into your palm like you did all those nights ago. You hoped that by getting caught with Jaemin, your husband would feel all the pain you felt. But you were terribly wrong. He was nothing but a heartless prick who only liked sex.

And you were the idiot who still chased after him.

Jaemin walks up to your crying figure, taking your arm and pulling you into a tight hug.

"It's okay.. " he coos. He wants to be the strong one, but his own voice is cracking and tears are pouring from his eyes. The both of you were weal and vulnerable.

"I hate this so much" you stutter in between tears. "I still can't believe he did all that. Everything up till now, he's been what I thought was the greatest person of all, but at the end, he discards me like I'm nothing to him. And all for a woman he met months ago" you grip onto Jaemin's shirt. "I want to kill him"

"Don't waste your energy like that" Jaemin says. "We move on from them starting from now. You can cry all you want, as long as you get it all out and you forget that son of a bitch"

Pulling away from Jaemin, you look at him and the way his eyes watered despite his neutral face. Even with how badly hurt he was, he was still trying to be the source of comfort.

A sweet soul like him didn't deserve any of this.

And neither did you.

You and Jaemin sit on the floor for what felt like an hour. At some point, Jaemin moved the two of you towards the back of the couch so that he could rest against something as you leaned against his chest, playing with his fingers.

The storm is your heart had began to fade, now replaced by feeling of being lost and confused.

You and Jaemin were only together just to mess with your cheating partners. And as you lay against him, feeling the way his chest rose and fell everytime he breathed, you felt more comfort than you ever felt with your ex. His presence made you feel heard and protected, recalling all the times he listened as you yapped about a silly topic that your ex didn't always pay attention to. Jaemin made you feel like everything you said was equally as important. He always prioritized your feelings and was focused on comforting you even when he himself had been cheated on.

"Jaemin?" you begin, the man behind you humming in acknowledgement. "tonight has been awful. We just broke up with our long term partners, words have been exchanged, feelings have been hurt. We've been sitting on this hardwood floor for ages without saying a word... Doesn't that feel weird to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know why I feel so safe and happy when I'm with you, Jaemin. Even before all this revenge fucking or whatever... every moment I spent with you, eating pastries or challenging you to a cooking duel, I felt more alive than I've ever been with my husband. Fuck, I feel so warm and safe in your arms in a way that's so unfamiliar yet inviting. Sure I felt a sense of comfort when I was in a position like this with my ex but this... " you glance down at your hands that were still fiddling with his. "This feels different"

He's quiet and his silence fills you with fread, wondering if your words just ended something else for the second time tonight. Your worries are silenced when Jaemin wraps his arm around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder.

"I know what you mean" he sighs, eyes falling shut as a wave of guilt crashes over him. "I don't feel any better that I engaged in this just because my own wife was cheating on me as well. It felt like such a guilty pleasure knowing you made my love feel younger and fresh again before I even knew she was cheating. I felt like shit to even think and feel that way, but after all that has happened... I don't regret it at all"

Your head turns, leaving your lips and his inches apart.

"Is this all just a guilty pleasure?"

He stops to think, then nods. "It is"

Your heart tightens.

"But it's a guilty pleasure I'm willing to explore and learn more about. And maybe in the end, it won't be a guilty pleasure anymore. But something else instead"

"May I? " you ask, lips closing in on his after his confession. A feeling of warmth seeps through your chest, a feeling you haven't felt since the day your ex asked you to be his girlfriend. It was a sense of excitement at the adventure that laid ahead, ready to face to new future ahead of you. All you could think about was how you wanted to learn about the man behind you, and when you do, you wanted to share your love with him.

Jaemin hums, a small smile spreading across his cheeks. "You may"

Lips colliding, this kiss this time is soft and gentle. He takes his time to pour his soul into the kiss, focusing on the way you move your lips against his with passion and not lust. He memorizes everything. The way you feel, the way you brushed your tongue against his, the way you held onto his hand, everything.

Even after the toughest night of his life, Jaemin is more sure about whatever this was. He had a lot to learn about you now. What you did in your spare time, what you do when your sad. He wants to start something fresh and with how he feels around you, the way you make him feel joy, he was willing to push through all this pain if it meant he'll be happier than he ever was in the end. He wanted to be happy with you.

#nct dream smut #nct smut #jaemin smut #jaemin hard hours #na jaemin smut #jaemin x reader

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captain-bubble-wrap · 3 days ago

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okay quinny hot tub sex? thinking a lake house vibe where you sneak away in the middle of the night to get some alone time away from everyone? quinny is just desperate to feel you and grab you because he’s held back on the pda being in front of his family. ahhhh I love him <3

Desperate Quinny is a treat! 🤭

C|W : smutty, smutty, smut below the cut! 18+; slightly rough sex; hair pulling; over-stimulation W|C : 2k

Quinny: hey later tonight would you meet me down in the hot tub?😏

Y|N: What for? 😘😘😘

Quinny: I need you 🫣😩

Y|N: Oh, yeah?

Quinny: BAD 🥵

You had been out with Quinn's mom when he had texted you. The two of you had headed into town to get supplies for that evening's party while the boys went out on the boat. Quinn's message had made you laugh, causing you to have to lie to Ellen about what the message had been. No way you could tell her that he eldest was wanting to get his dick wet in the hottub after everyone had gone to bed or passed out. He'd continue sexting you little hints until you returned to the lakehouse.

The boys had gotten back before the two of you had, and Quinn was quick to find you and help get stuff in the house, namely so he could whisper a few desperate pleas into your ear.

"All I could think about was you," he confessed. "My hands on your hips, imagining you begging me for more."

You'd smirk, hiding your face in the curve of his neck. "Quinn! Shh, or someone's going to hear you!"

"Nah, that will be you tonight, unless I make you play the quiet game," he purred, his hand trailing down your spine.

"Quinny!"

He just laughed, that deep kind of throaty chuckle that made your heart race. Quinn would kiss your neck once before letting you go, hearing the sound of his mother's voice growing closer.

"Tonight, yeah?"

"Absolutely," you agreed, seeing the delicious look of mischievousness on his face.

- - -

The party had been fun; everyone got some degree of inebriated, you and Quinn included. The two of you had retreated to your shared room, where Quinn had pinned you against the wall for a short and restrained makeout session. You could feel the desperation in his touch, the way his tongue danced with yours, the way he nipped at your bottom lip. Had he not expressed his desire for a little outdoor play, you would have just rode him into the bed until the frame broke.

"I'm going to go down--"

"On me?" You interrupted, the vodka in your system making you much more flirty than normal.

Quinn returned a look of dark delight to you, the way the corner of his lips curled upwards just thinking of being between your legs. "Absolutely, just tell me when and where and how long." His laugh was almost devilish, and you loved every bit of it.

"Whenever, baby. You-- don't have to ask," you reassured, as your fingers dragged through his wild curls.

He'd pull you into a deep kiss once again, his hand slipping beneath your shirt. With one quick snap, your bra had been undone and Quinn was quickly pulling off your shirt.

"Quinny!" You giggled, holding his face as he dragged his lips down your collarbone to your breasts. The way he looked up at you, tongue rolling over your stimulated nipple had your eyes rolling backwards.

"Hmm?" he hummed, mouth against you, sending shivers through your body.

"I thought we were headed downstairs?" You choked out, trying not to give away what Quinn and yourself were up to behind your closed door should anyone be walking by.

Quinn would make one last pass over your breast with his tongue before returning his lips to yours, his voice low, "Making me wait, huh?"

"It was your idea," you'd remark with a wink.

He would agree with you, giving you one last kiss before slipping out of the bedroom, "I'll let you know if we're going to be alone down there. Don't make me wait, too long."

Once Quinn was gone, you'd find yourself stripping out of the rest of your clothes. For whatever reason, you laid down on the bed and began touching yourself in front of the full length mirror after Quinn had gotten you going, but you wouldn't allow yourself too much pleasure. You wanted to make sure you lasted as long as possible with Quinn as you could. Vodka always made you more outgoing sexually; more free with your body and what you wanted to feel and experience. Ever since Quinn had made you watch him touch you in front of a mirror once, you loved slipping in a self-love moment whenever you could. However, you had a date in a hottub and you'd need a bikini to wear down there, even though you wouldn't be in it long, if things went to plan. You'd be plenty wet for Quinn when you got there. Just the act of dressing up for him made you more aroused.

Quinn would text you while you were tying the last hip tie of your black bikini, letting you know the coast was clear for you secret little hookup. You wasted no time hurrying through the house, making careful the sound of your footfalls and the quiet closing of doors. It took a few minutes, but eventually you'd arrive with Quinn waiting on you, a smile on his lips when he locked eyes with you.

"You look amazing," he confessed as you dropped the towel. "C'mere, baby. Come have a seat."

The water felt so good against your skin as you dipped one leg then the other into the steaming water. His hands would grab for you once you were in safely. You'd straddle him and he wasted no time undoing your top for a second time that evening.

"Don't need that," he smirked, fingers already toying with the bows tied on your hips as he leaned forward to kiss you. "Don't need these either."

Your arms would drape over his shoulders as you began to grind into him. You could taste Quinn's last drink on his tongue, as his grip tightened, guiding you to drop harder down on his cock while you got him hard. You could feel the world spin quicker around you as your eyes fell closed. Every sensation felt heighted from the alcohol. Your hips continued to move back and forth against him, until Quinn's thumbs rolled circles over your nipples, causing you to bounce instead of grind.

"Want something more, baby?"

"Yes please," you begged, anticipating his first touch with little patience.

"Straddle that jet. I wanna hear how good it makes you feel."

No rookie to shower heads and swimming pool jets, you knew where he was getting at. Now, completely naked, you'd get off of Quinn and kneel down on the space next to Quinn, your clit in direct contact of the water stream. He wasn't wrong, it felt like the most amazing vibration you could remember. The stream was wide, and just hard enough that you didn't have to be right against it to feel a great deal of pleasure from it. Quinn would watch you push into the feeling, before allowing his right hand to slip between your legs after removing his shorts.

You couldn't help but buck at his fingers probing for a quick entry into your pussy and he'd find it, too. The moan was loud but in the moment, you didn't care if anyone heard. You were still tipsy enough to be mildly fearless.

"Mmm, there she is," he whispered, lips against your ear has you took the length of his fingers into you. He loved feeling you open wide for him, tightening at the right time; the feeling of your natural wetness covering his digits instantly. "Lean forward, baby."

Quinn's fingers slipped out of you as you leaned on your forearms, your ass just barely out of the water. When he entered you from behind, the first thrust had your clit in a love affair with the jet once more. Each time he pushed deeper into you, you'd feel that deep vibration stretch against the entirety of your sensitive bud. You didn't even need Quinn to touch you there, the water was teasing you enough.

At first his cadence was slow, but you were needy, you wanted more. Your nails scraped against the smoothed sandstone as the pleasure continued to build.

"More, baby. Harder."

Without a word, Quinn's hand gripped your hair at the root and pulled your head backwards as he pushed into you in one fast thrust, your clit being caressed under the water. Your back arched, ass pushing into his hips out of absolute euphoria. Fuck he felt good stretching you out so forcefully but you loved it. Again and again, Quinn's deep thrusts would push you closer and closer against the jet of water, threatening to deliver an intense orgasm to your sensations.

"Does that feel good, baby?"

"Yes!" You cried out, as he kept you up against the head of the jet.

"Shh, not quite so loud. We don't wanna wake the whole house, sweetheart."

Trying to stifle your moans was hard, and while you wanted him to hear how good he was making you feel, you didn't want an audience. He definitely knew what he was making you feel, and how good it was. You'd still moan like a pornstar, just not so much it echoed.

"Come on, baby, little more."

Backing you off the jet, Quinn's pace quickened, rapidly pumping into you, splashing water everywhere. You were almost there, and had he not made you move back a little, the intense pressure would have done you in ahead of Quinn being ready for you to come.

"That's it, take me pretty girl."

You'd readjust yourself slightly during one of his forward thrust to have that jet hum against your clit one more time. You could feel how hard the orgasm was going to be and you were ready. Quinn gave your hair one more good tug before he whispered those sweet, four little words, "Come for me, baby."

And, right on command, you'd let yourself be consumed by the wave of pleasure washing over you like the water than lapped over your bodies. Toes curled as Quinn kept you in that position, knowing you'd be over-stimulated by the water stream.

"Quinny," you panted, hips grinding against the water to relieve the direct pressure.

"Not till you come again, princess," he purred, making sure you didn't move out of position.

Focusing on the feeling, waiting until your body decided the pain felt like pleasure, you'd beg him for the release, but he knew you were just wanting it to stop. "Not yet."

Quinn would give you one, strong spanking while still balls deep in your leaking core. Again, you'd push into him, tightening around him, making him moan against his own over-stimulation.

After a couple minutes, you'd finally get the second, more earth-shaking climax. You couldn't help how loud you were this time; some things just couldn't be held back and Quinn would snicker has he pulled out. Collapsing over the edge of the hot tub, ass still in the air, you'd come three more times in quick succession; wave after of wave taking over your senses, leaving your legs shaking.

"Good girl, baby. That's just what I wanted."

Quinn's fingers traced your spine as he sat beside you on the expansive bench. Once you were finally in control of your body again, you'd find yourself in Quinn's lap, legs off to the side. There was no strength left in your body to do anything but lean against him.

"That was worth the wait," he smirked out of your view, though you could hear it. "You never disappoint me, baby.

You couldn't speak, and what was there to say? You were still coming down from the hardest orgasm you had ever felt. You'd never be able to look at the lakehouse hot tub the same way again.

#💌maven's love notes #quinn hughes #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfiction

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johannestevans · 2 days ago

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do you have any advice for an autistic adult who hasn't yet lost their virginity due to the social aspect? I'm terrified not of the act itself, that's fine, I get myself off just fine all the time, but that I won't act the right way, that I'll try too hard to be sexy and it'll be cringy or not try hard enough and be off-putting

Oh, honestly, I think a lot of people worry about that a lot of the time they have sex, whether it's for the first time, or the first time they're just trying a new act, or just when it's somebody new or somebody they've not seen in a while.

Sex is ultimately something extremely vulnerable - you're literally dressed down, you're generally in private together, the other person is very concentrated on you and you very concentrated on them - so there can be a lot of concern about how you're going to perform, how you're going to look, if you're going to be sexy or embarrassing, or whatever else.

When I first had sex after like eight or ten years of celibacy after my more active (and abused) life in my teens, it did feel a lot like a sort of virginity, and I basically just had a decently anonymous hook-up with a nice fella on Grindr. He was on the shy side and had some insecurities himself, but for me, the fact that it was so anonymous and low-stakes eased the way for me - you might find that, or you might find that on the other side, someone you already know very well and trust quite intimately will be more comfortable and be more of a balm for your anxiety.

People make a big thing about sex and its social or intimate or romantic implications, but it's ultimately just another slightly silly thing that people do together. It's inherently undignified and a bit absurd, no matter how well a sex scene is edited in a film, and with how great a sound track.

I don't say this to say sex can't be important, or that it can't feel really great or even really emotionally important, because it absolutely can be.

It's just the truth that you and another person or people are also going to be wrestling and wobbling about together, with at least some of your clothes off. You're going to be smelling each other. You're going to be up close, very upclose, with each other's genitals and arses and chests, and armpits and ears and ankles. Now and then, one of you is going to fall over, or accidentally hit the other one in the nose, or put your elbow on the wrong bit of them and make them go "ow!" and you'll lurch back and go, "fuck, sorry!", and sometimes you'll lurch back too far and fall off the bed.

Sometimes, the bed - or wherever else you're getting up to this - will break. Sometimes, the dog will manage to open the bedroom door and leap onto the bed, midway through the act, and excitedly introduce a sodden, mostly-chewed rawhide into the activity. Sometimes one of you will release the most incredibly musical fart in the world, at the worst possible time.

Sometimes, the sex will just straight up be bad. The time won't be right, or you'll have a slight cold and you'll keep wanting to blow it or swallow phleghm and it'll be gross but you'll also genuinely be quite horny, or you and your partner will be slightly mismatched in rhythm and size and keep giving each other unlikely bruises.

Sometimes, you will be utterly nude, you'll be gazing deeply into one another's eyes, your body will feel tense and aching a bit but at the same time, perfect. There'll be sweat sheening on both of you, you'll both be breathing hard and sharing the same breath, you'll have managed a sublime rhythm that seems to be seeping into the very core of you, your orgasm a more distant concern than making this moment, this perfect moment, last for as long as possible, because it just feels so good, so intimate, so loving, so perfect--

And then the fire alarm will go off.

And it will be the absolute worst thing in the world, but also, you probably will laugh about it - laugh uproariously, at the sheer juxtaposition of it, as you either try to quickly finish or stumble out of bed to put on dressing gowns, and hope none of your neighbours or the fire people look at you in too much detail when you're waiting downstairs.

Your concerns about seeming like you're trying too hard, trying too hard to be sexy, ending up a bit cringe, not trying hard enough and ending up flat - you might have these same anxieties going out for coffee with someone, or playing Dungeons and Dragons or improv-ing with someone, or doing karaoke.

You and your partner(s) will be in the same boat of vulnerability when you have sex - they might have the same or similar anxieties to the ones you do. Part of the reason that sex is generally best with someone you trust is because that vulnerability is part of it.

You're trusting the other person with your naked body and how it looks and feels and smells; you're trusting the other person to touch you the right way, use the right lube and prophylactics; you're trusting the other person to basically do rhythmic exercise with you, and that includes all the sweat and physical exertion that comes with that.

There may well be times you try too hard to be sexy, and your partner says "you can probably tone it back a bit", or even laughs - and there will be time when your partner does the same. Other times, you might well be being "too sexy" - as in, sexier than your partner was prepared for - and they'll be incredibly into it, or jump to match your energy.

Sometimes, the sex will absolutely be cringe, but luckily, that's part of having sex, not to mention life, and sometimes, cringe is delightful.

The first or maybe the second time my partner and I had sex, I couldn't stop infodumping about marine biology and telling him exciting facts (I felt) about different creatures' mating habits, which drove him insane, and not only did he still have sex with me that night, we're going to get married.

I'm not saying "don't worry", because social anxiety doesn't really listen to "don't worry", but part of the reason your anxiety has so much mileage in this internal conversation is because sex in your head might still be there as like, a capital-letter activity that requires infinite decorum and consideration and with so much stuff for you to do wrong, and that bubble will burst a bit when you do start having sex with other people and the mystique goes away, but will always be there a little bit.

The tragic thing about sex is that because it's genuinely just a fun thing people do together, your social anxiety has as much reach there as it does any other activity you might pursue with someone, but the good news is that once you have sex a few times, it will hopefully just be the same level of anxiety you do have with any other activity.

"Virgin" is made out to be this big thing, but people are virgins at new activities every day. Driving a car, going out for dinner in a fancy restaurant, wearing suspenders, going swimming, et cetera. It's really not a bad thing to be, but it's also not necessarily a momentous thing to stop being either. You'll be great!

#musings #anonymous

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hivemuthur · 2 days ago

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Can I request Viktor accidentally or unintentionally making reader cry and immediately going to comfort them (whether it be crys of sadness or overwhelming happiness, it’s up to you!)

Hi Anon! Here's your fic:

Tearjerker

viktorxgn!reader general, fluff and very light angst, Reader just had a bad day (don't we all sometimes)

word count: 1K

author's note: I know it's kind of OOC for Viktor to use baby as a term of endearment, but it's one of my favourite ones, so I drop it here and there :')

And! This is the last of my drafts from previous requests round, so I'm gonna fuck off for a couple of days and chill my ass. D&M will be updated ofc, but otherwise, I'm cooking some new things that need some time, ciao!

artist on X!

—

You’re quiet on the way home, and Viktor notices immediately. You don’t reach for his hand like you usually do. You don’t lean into him when the wind picks up, don’t murmur idle thoughts the way you always do when the walk feels long. Instead, you’re stiff, tense. Your eyes stay locked ahead, shoulders drawn up tight, and when Viktor offers a small remark about the night—about Jayce being in particularly loud spirits—you only hum.

It’s not like you.

And he has to admit, it’s unsettling. But he doesn’t press—not yet. He simply walks beside you, eyes flickering toward you every few moments, waiting for you to give him something.

Which you don’t, because crying on the street is the last thing you want right now.

Jayce’s loud spirits had found a victim in you tonight. Being the butt of his jokes was bearable—until it wasn’t. At first, it was just annoying. Then it became outright hurtful, especially when Viktor had joined in. You and Mel had only exchanged apologetic glances across the table. Boys.

As soon as the door closes behind you, you move toward the kitchen without a word. Viktor watches you disappear around the corner, rubbing the back of his neck before following. You’re pulling a glass from the cupboard when he leans against the counter, cane hooked over his wrist.

"You have been quiet," he says. "Since we left."

"I’m tired," you lie, and it’s not convincing in the slightest.

He tilts his head. "Something is wrong."

"No." A sigh.

Viktor exhales through his nose, then steps closer. "You forget, I know you too well to believe that."

You stiffen, and the words slip out before you can swallow them back—before you can stop the wave of hot tears tightening your throat. "How come you do not know when to stop talking, then?"

His brows draw together. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Did you have fun tonight?" you snap, turning to face him, lips already forming a pout, eyes unmistakably wet. "At my expense?"

And Viktor—oh. You almost feel sorry for him when you see the horror on his face, but you’re too busy feeling sorry for yourself. Any other day, you might have let it pass, but today had been a disaster—a morning gone wrong, a workday you barely got through, and a double date you’d forced yourself to attend, only to regret every second of it.

"Darling, we were jesting," he says carefully. "Jayce did not mean any harm, and neither did I."

He steps toward you, hands already reaching to cradle you, but the way you flinch away makes his arms drop to his sides in idle defeat.

"Oh, I know," you say, voice trembling, tears spilling despite yourself. "But if you know me so well, then you should have noticed when I was getting uncomfortable."

Viktor goes very still.

In his head, he relives the evening in a series of scenes, and since none of them seem so utterly harmful, he makes a terrible mistake. "Baby, don’t you think you’re overreacting?"

He knows it the moment it’s too late.

The look you give him—oh. Excruciating. Tears swell, and you say nothing, but disappointment oozes from you, sharp enough to make a point.

His expression shifts—caution dissolving, something horrible settling in its place. His throat works, guilt creeping into the lines of his face.

"Beloved," he starts softly.

"Don’t." You shake your head, stepping back until your spine meets the wall. You try to sniff your tears up—to no avail.

And for the first time in a long time, Viktor doesn’t know what to say.

So instead, he closes the space between you, hands hesitating before settling at your waist. You tense, but when he squeezes—gently, firmly—you don’t push him away.

"I did not realise," he murmurs. "I should have."

You swallow hard, looking anywhere but at him. Viktor exhales, lowering his forehead to yours—leaving you no space to run. "I am so sorry," he says quietly, earnest and raw. "I was foolish. I did not see the cut I was adding to."

A breath shudders out of you, and he hates that he caused it.

His arms tighten, pulling you flush against him, his lips brushing your temple. "It will not happen again," he promises, voice thick. "I can’t stand that I made you cry, miláčku."

A kiss—long and firm—pressed into your hair. Another, when his lips ghost over your cheek, and he drags his mouth across the salty trail.

"Forgive me, please," he whispers, showering you with slow, lingering pecks.

You say nothing, but you let him cradle your face, let him nuzzle into you. Then his hands fall to yours, and he picks them up, pressing his lips to your knuckles. "I will keep my mouth shut. Or better, I will swat Jayce across the back of his head next time."

You chuckle—weakly, but it’s a chuckle. Your eyes roll, and Viktor’s chest loosens as he reaches up to wipe away your tears. "My darling," he says, out of ideas for how else to atone.

You take a long breath—then finally hug him back. Your arms wrap around his neck, and he exhales in relief, his breath warm against your skin. The weight of it has your mouth quirking into a smile. "Fine," you say quietly.

"Am I forgiven?" he asks, nose buried in your shoulder as he rocks you gently.

“Yes, but only because I enjoyed the dramatics of it,” you hum, your fingers tangling into his hair. “Such a tearjerker.”

“Oh baby, I can atone further, you have seen nothing yet.”

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor x f!reader #arcane #arcane fanfic #my writing #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor x oc #viktor nation #viktor x gn!reader #viktor fluff #viktor x reader fluff #requests

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luna-loveboop · 3 days ago

Text

I'm absolutely dying over this

*making conversation*

"Wait, we don’t know that"

Hold up, this is actually kind of interesting- we know Four likes his air of mystery 🔗

But it looks like these two genuinely hadn't thought much about his age before. Perhaps Four hadn't said anything about it- past that time with Twilight

not sure how twilight survived, but whatever 🔗

Hyrule's words 'that's a funny group- the youngest and the oldest', show that maybe he had subconsciously assumed Smithy to be younger (perhaps due to his height)? But of course, Four is way more mature than one would expect. I think knowing he's not the youngest, most of them didn't worry about it because he's so quiet. Four is the one who's there quietly helping.

So basically I'm in love with the idea that none of them know the smithy's age because he's kept his secrets close, and over time they will continue to realise they don't know much about him-he doesn't talk as much.

Oh, here are Jojo's Words tm on his age-

🔗

Grouped into the categories in this post, it seems he's among the youngest. Yet in Jojo's tags (the ones I put above), she described him and Twilight as 'not that far off in age'. Or, as that's what Four might've said to Twilight.

Jojo changes her mind sometimes, and we're not in it, so where is the Smithy in the ages groups? Is he closer to Twilight's age or Wind's? The question of the ages. (hehe, that was a good one.)

But as far as the rough categorising, Hyrule is right- Four is one of the younger heros, so that group is the youngest and the oldest. It seems they are uncertain on that though

*suddenly realising they don't know the introverted theatre kid's age because he's somehow kept it quiet*

Didniedhirheifheiehfigjt

Yeah guys, yeah. I would like to know too.

Art by Jojo @linkeduniverse au I love it!

#so many questions left unanswered…#Its mainly because fours a dramatic theater kid lol #Lu four #trying something new with the links #specifically the online type I don't mean the heros for once #with the chain emojis- the chain link emojis. the link emojis that are links to post about the chain of links-#I am not sorry at all and will continue to be insufferable with that #linked universe #linkeduniverse #the set up for that joke was perfect tho #the question of the ages #literally #ugh puns

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dyingswanpavlova · 3 days ago

Text

"Your girl" - Part 22 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: A dark surprise is awaiting you - something that might change your entire life for better or worse, if it doesn't end before it could.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening (knife), mentions of blood, mentions of murder and rape, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation, mentions of sexual activities and desires, mentions of pregnancy/pregnancy issues like nausea and puking, kidney failure, cockwarming, rough sex, penetration, oral sex, blood play, degradation kink, knife play, threats of torture and gore, rape (to a certain degree), the pregnancy is being threatened in a vile, graphic way, not beta-read! if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+! dark content ahead!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

Author's note: I'm putting an extra note here, just to say: I think compared to the other chapters it gets kinda dark here, with real noncon vibes, so please be cautious of that before reading. Beware: Word count 12.278

When he came home, it always went the same way.

The door creaked open, then he closed it, set his briefcase aside and washed his hands.

Not a single time had he ever missed one of these steps. Washing his hands was like a sacred ritual. You did it, because you felt your hands vibrating the second you didn’t. Whenever you came in from wherever you were outside – and if only to check the mailbox – you had to immediately wash your hands or else you felt sick. It was a physical ache, your hands were reminding you that they needed to be cleaned.

You didn’t know if it was the same for him. Maybe there were other reasons, maybe he had the same kind of OCD. Whatever it was – he washed his hands. Every time.

And only then would he come and look for you, seek out where you were. Normally you’d either be in the kitchen or the living room. Sometimes you’d be typing mindlessly on the typewriter, lost in the cloud of your own imagination. It was much more fun than you expected and it reminded you not only of your father, but also the man you loved, with every letter. You loved the clicking sound and the hum every time a new phrase came to paper.

Other times, you’d be cooking. Ever since the first trimester nausea passed, you finally were able to eat again. Now you were craving things. Often savory food, but just as often it was some sweet nonsense. You tried to eat as healthy as possible, but often times you’d settle for some kind of cornflakes when he wasn’t home. It was alright though, so you told yourself. You had been through a lot and you deserved to calm down and relax a little.

There were those other days when you’d come up with the freakiest things. This gummy pudding, you had no idea what it was, but it was to be found in Korean convenience stores. He brought it home for you and it was disgusting, but you still finished it. Other times, you felt you were in dire need of spicy food – very unlike yourself. He still brought it home to you. One time was especially odd. You had just finished a giant portion of pasta (now that you could finally eat it again), but you couldn’t get one thing off your mind.

A McFlurry.

It was the one good thing you associated with your mother. Well, not her directly, but with your childhood.

Your mother had never been one to spoil you, but on some very rare occasions, when you were out in the city, which wasn’t quite often, she’d allow you some Fast Food. Like any other kid of course you were all for Nuggets and Fries, but the thing you loved most was the ice cream. The ice cream machine was broken more often than not, so it was quite the highlight when you got to eat it. You remembered one moment especially.

You sat on the worn-out red leather cushion, slurping on your ice cream, when you felt your mother’s intense gaze on you. You immediately straightened up, thinking you had done something wrong and she’d take the ice cream away for it.

“What is it?” You had asked in that quiet, unsure voice of a poor, insecure nine-year-old.

She kept looking at you for a long moment and there was something soft in her eyes, something she never let you see. Later that day, she’d send you to sleep in the wardrobe, because on the way home, you said something to piss her off, but then and there – she looked at you with kind eyes.

“Eat your ice cream, honey.”

To this day, the taste of it reminded you of that moment. That one time honey didn’t sound like a mocking curse, but something a mother would say to her daughter. Because she loved her.

Not, because she’d try to poison her a few years later.

So, many years later, you found yourself on the couch, picking at the last of your pasta, when you felt his gaze on you.

“What is it? Aren’t you feeling well?”

You looked up at him, your eyes soft. You didn’t want to mention your mother to him, but you did. You told him of the brief moment of kindness and the way you still loved that ice cream to that day.

And what did he do?

He got up and put his coat on.

“What are you doing?”

He shrugged. “I’m getting ice cream.”

That made you smile, but softly. “But it’s almost midnight.”

He smirked in return, but his eyes were warm. God, it was so easy to lose yourself in them.

“Eat your pasta. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He kept his promise and only twenty minutes later you found yourself curled into his side, licking the sweetness off the plastic spoon. “You’re such an idiot.” You murmured and shot him a smirk. “I can’t believe you did that.”

He snorted as he played with your hair. “Yeah. That’s the weirdest thing I’ve done so far.”

You laughed in response and shoved a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. He grinned and took the spoon from you with ease. “I’m just saying.”

The next few weeks went on just as smoothly. It was almost like you were stuck in a dream. A part of you was constantly on edge, always expecting something horrible to happen. If it wasn’t your kidney to suddenly give up, it would surely be him. He’d do something – something horrible, something unforgivable, something to hurt either you or your baby…or you both.

But the more time passed, the clearer it became that he wouldn’t.

Every time you stared at him in silence, whenever you observed the way he nibbled on his pen while he filled out some paperwork, every time you watched him drive the car with a quiet hum on his lips, every time he did each of those things – the guilt was nearly suffocating you.

Of course you trusted him. You loved him, you adored him, he was the father of your child.

But he had also hurt you.

More than once. Repeatedly. Some of his ways more painful than others.

He looked so peaceful when he slept beside you or stirred something in a pot in the kitchen, while you watched him. He still brought you your fruit cocktail every morning, still seared your vegetables for you daily. And never did he complain once.

But it was inside of him. You knew it was there, buried under piles of kindness and love.

You saw it in the way his hand twitched, whenever you got into a minor argument. The way his eyes shone darkly and his lips pulled into a frown. The way he clenched his jaw over little things. Sometimes, he was trembling with barely suppressed rage.

One night, he almost lost control.

Almost.

It had started as a minor disagreement, you couldn’t even tell what it was about, but it escalated when it got to the point of you asking him why you still weren’t allowed to leave the house on your own. After all, you were carrying his child.

What would finally make him trust you?

But he nearly exploded. A few minutes into the argument you realized, it wasn’t him being paranoid and angry. It was him being concerned and possessive. His jealousy was easily triggered, even easier than your own and now that you had his child in your belly…

It didn’t make things easier.

“I would never leave you.” You muttered, shaking your head.

He let out an annoyed exhale. “I know that.”

“Then why?!”

“Because I said so.” He gritted out and shot you a dark glare. “And now shut up about it.”

“I won’t.” You had been feeling somewhat too confident that day. That was the thing with him. He made you feel so safe that you actually dared to speak up your mind and feel like you were someone. And when you did, it infuriated him. Not always…but whenever it went against his way of things. “I won’t, because this is ridiculous! I will not-“

“Shut up!” His fist shot out so fast that you hardly even recognized it as a movement. A sharp inhale later, you squeezed your eyes shut and clenched your damp fists, expecting him to break your jaw. But all that really happened was a sharp flinch that went through you, when you heard his fist bump into the wall only a few inches away from your head. You felt the air heat up with his proximity and for a long moment, you didn’t dare to open your eyes. When you eventually did, you immediately looked up at his face, but he wasn’t looking at you. He kept his gaze downcast, his eyes closed and his jaw clenched. He was taking quick breaths, his chest rising and falling in record speed. You didn’t dare open your mouth in case this was just the calm before the storm. But it didn’t seem to be. Instead, he seemed almost pained under the weight of his loss of control.

You tilted your head only enough to see his fist, still shaking against the wall. There was a faint crack in the plaster and you saw the hint of harsh red of his blood mixing with the soft apricot color of the wall.

It would have probably been the clever thing to let go. Lock yourself away until he calmed down. He’d apologize, probably and even if he didn’t – he hadn’t hurt you.

But instead of leaving him, you reached out a hand, still struggling to breathe yourself. Your fingers closed around his wrist and he yanked his hand back, attempting to pull away, but you only tightened your grip.

“Let me take a look!”

His arm was tense as was the rest of him and you were almost afraid to look at his face, but when you did, he was still avoiding your gaze. So, instead you focused back on his hand and the traces of blood, the broken skin, mixing with paint.

You swallowed and looked up at him again. “I’m going to clean this up, okay?”

He still didn’t answer. It was like tending to a wild animal, a bull even. His eyes were wide and unfocused, looking for a spot to fix upon. Just not you.

But when you guided him to sit on the couch, he didn’t resist. When you attempted to get up and get a clean cloth, his hand shot out again, fingers wrapping around your wrist like a vice. You winced, but quickly caught yourself again. You wrapped a gentle hand around his arm and whispered: “I’ll be right back.”

He swallowed and hesitated for another second, before he finally let go. You nearly broke both legs stumbling over a pair of shoes and a bag on your way to the bathroom. You gathered what you thought you needed, a wet cloth, some disinfectant and luckily you even found a clean bandage in the drawer. While you carried everything back to the living room, you caught yourself thinking, how is it even possible that I never needed this until now?

You crouched down beside him, taking a look at his hand. He was still far away with his eyes, but he seemed softer now. Less like a wounded lion and more like a man who drowned in guilt.

“I didn’t mean to-“ He cut himself off and clenched his jaw again.

It was hard for him. You could see that every time he held himself back for your sake. You didn’t know if it was because you were pregnant now or because he was slowly starting to understand that you indeed loved him and that you truly didn’t intend to leave him.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t easy on him. He was still two people at once, fighting internally, battling each other over minor things. Sometimes, he won. Other times, he punched the wall hard enough to crack.

But that was okay, you told yourself. He was trying. You could see that he was, despite his struggle. He would hurt you again, you were sure. You took a slow breath, silently praying to God for him never to lose control too bad. He would hurt you again. But fuck if you’d let him hurt your child.

“I know.” You murmured softly as you gently began to dab at his wounded knuckles. “Nothing happened. It’s alright.”

“It’s not.” He gritted out. “I could have-“ He closed his eyes and took a slow breath.

You waited patiently until he opened his eyes again and until he was finally ready to face you. This wasn’t like him, you suddenly realized. His dark side, his evil twin, it was unlike him to show signs of guilt. But to you he did. For you he did.

His eyes were still dark, but now there was something else as well. Something you had rarely ever seen in him. It was more than guilt, it was different than anger, it was…fear.

“I could have hurt you.”

You paused for a beat, before you could respond. “But you didn’t.”

“You don’t understand.” He lowered his head so he was eye level with you and you were forced to look into his eyes, to see the depth of what lay beyond them.

“I wanted to.”

There was a tight knot in your chest. What were you supposed to say to that? There was not much you could do. You knew what he was. He was trying. But was that enough?

“But you didn’t.” You eventually said again. Your voice was unwavering, more certain than the rest of you.

He frowned and pulled his head back, glancing down at his fist, still clenched in your hand.

“I don’t deserve this.” He murmured.

“What do you mean?”

He shook his head, still staring down at your hands. “I don’t deserve you. What have I ever given you aside from pain?”

You felt as though he had punched you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to show the horror you felt inside. “You…”

“It’s true. You are good and kind and forgiving. You care about me in ways…” He clenched his jaw and averted his gaze entirely. “I don’t deserve this.”

Before you had time to think it through, you already reached out and grasped his chin between two fingers. You tilted his head, forcing him to look at you. With a stern expression, it was now you who shook your head.

“You love me.”

His eyes widened a fraction. “What does that have to do with anything?”

You smiled, with more conviction than you thought yourself capable of. “Everything.”

He didn’t comment on it any further and neither did you. You simply took care of his wounds and he let you. It was foreign to him – you could tell by the way he watched you in a mixture of confusion and wonder. A part of him was still tense, as though he expected you to strike. He wasn’t used to being vulnerable, but he was getting better at it.

That was the moment you decided you wouldn’t ask him again.

No matter how confused and desperate you felt, how angry it made you that he knew everything about you and you seemed to know nothing about him.

You didn’t know his name, nor what he did or where he came from – but you knew that he loved you. That he’d kill for you. And that you were his, as much as he was yours.

And so you decided to trust him with everything else as well.

Because he was trying.

Six weeks came and went. Time passed so quickly and life felt so easy, that you tended to forget about the bad things. The times when he ignored you, when he withdrew his love in order to punish you for things you might have done wrong in his eyes, were all but forgotten.

The days were short. You spent every possible moment together. Aside from when he went to work or to…well, to work on the man your mother had sent, you were together. Always.

Sometimes you were almost afraid that your constant presence would end up suffocating him.

Despite the way you got more and more confident in yourself, the dark thoughts lingered. Whenever he was gone for a few minutes too long, whenever you got into an argument, you couldn’t help but think yourself unlovable. One day he would wake up and he would realize the terrible mistake he had made.

But he had ways. Many different ways to ensure your thoughts were only that – thoughts.

Every time you thought you were being too clingy and decided to pull away, put at least a little distance between you – scoot over on the couch, roll over, pull yourself away from him – he caught you. Whether it was being a hand on your thigh, an arm around your shoulders or just his knee pressed a little tighter against yours. He was just as clingy, you realized. Of course you didn’t speak of it. But you saw it in the way he closed his eyes, when your fingers ran through his hair. The way he smirked to himself when he caught you staring at him when he came out of the shower – if he ever allowed you to take a shower alone. He needed your contact just as much as you did his and it only ever made you love him more.

What was it about the couples who needed space? What did that even mean?

Sure, you sometimes asked yourself if it would do your relationship any good if you spent some time apart. But no, God, no. The thought alone made your skin crawl in fear. Falling asleep without him by your side sounded like the most ridiculous and impossible thing. You needed him there, his warmth, his arms around you and his warm breath on your neck.

It wasn’t just you and him cramped up in the space of the apartment all the time. Things became…lighter.

Going outside became a trivial thing to you. It wasn’t only the regular appointments at the doctor’s office. You went out to eat, to take walks and he showed you Seoul. Of course you’d seen a few places there – guided by only your phone, because you were a ghost in your own life. But what he showed you weren’t only tourist spots. No, he showed you things you would have never even thought about on your own. Things only someone who had grown up there could show you.

Even his old house.

It was burnt down to the ground of course, no more than dead grass, some dirt and rusty metal. But the way he stared down at it, the place that had once been so much bigger than him, the place where all his nightmares found their origin…

It made you hold his hand just a little tighter.

He didn’t say a single word and he didn’t need to. His eyes said it all. His pain ran much deeper than you had ever assumed. Maybe even deeper than your own.

But pain is not something to be measured and compared, right?

You squeezed his hand – and he squeezed yours right back.

You never spoke of it. Not a single time. And you held onto your word, your thoughts, you had had just a few weeks ago. You didn’t pressure him and it seemed to pay off, because the tension in him that was always there seemed to ease just the tiniest bit.

You went to the movies – thank God there were days when they played in their original language – and to the theater. He showed you bridges, buildings, food, music, art.

All the things you had missed out on your entire life.

And while he was at it, he showed you love.

You felt it in the way his hand tightened on the small of your back, whenever you got into a group of people. The way he looked at you, that sheepish smile, whenever you caught him staring at you while you were doing something – be it the dishes or stargazing.

He showed you himself. All you needed to know was right there in the way he kissed you.

And he kissed you.

Of course there were moments when a quick peck had to be enough, but the nights? The nights.

There was not enough air to breathe and you didn’t care one bit.

All you needed was him. He made sure of it.

You couldn’t count the times he made you inhale sharply and claw at the sheets.

Every night, so far. Once your nausea and your sickening exhaustion had passed, you became a wild thing. It was hard to tame you, the second you felt his fingers run up your thigh, down your hip, up your back. You were sure you could have recognized his hands blindly in-between a thousand others.

When he rubbed the pads of his fingers over your tongue, down your stomach or when they slipped inside your panties. They were so skilled that it never took him long to have writhing and begging. It was so easy that it almost got boring.

And so, sometimes, he had his ways of making you suffer, just to spice it up.

The night before, he had done just that. Your jaw still hurt thinking back to it – and your panties grew wet just the same.

He had been sitting on the couch, reading the newspaper as he so often did. Sometimes you asked yourself if he really read it or if that was just some kind of front to keep up the illusion of composure. You had just come out of the shower and were on your way to maybe try and write something, when you saw him sitting there, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants. The way he leaned back, one arm resting on the couch, the other one holding up the paper.

It didn’t need any words. Just one look.

He leaned back in that infuriatingly hot way, legs spread apart and lowering the paper just enough to look at you.

You had never seen such expressive eyes before. And the command was clear.

You let go of any idea of writing, the moment you approached him instead. You slid onto your knees almost automatically, but not before he shoved a pillow before you, for you to kneel on. You shifted slightly, spreading your legs apart involuntarily, but he shot you a warning look.

“I want to see your hands at all times.” He said lowly, before he glanced back down at the newspaper. “And now keep me warm.”

You nearly choked on your spit, your own arousal making your mind go hazy. But you obeyed. You always obeyed – until you didn’t. But that night, you did.

You freed him from his sweatpants, his hardness already apparent and ready for you to take care of. The need to run your tongue along his length and drive him to the brink of madness was almost suffocating, but the way he tightened his grip on the paper just slightly kept you from doing so. Instead you spat down on it just once and took him in your mouth. And then you stayed in place.

You felt the way he tensed, heard the way his breath hitched, but he didn’t do anything either.

“Good girl.” He murmured and ran his fingers through your hair with his free hand, keeping them there. You tried to swallow around him, but it only made you drool all over him. A small whimper died in the back of your throat as you forced your knees to press into the pillow firmly, not daring to move or touch yourself, when that was all you wanted to do. You were already so wet, just from kneeling like that, just from tasting him.

A soft sigh came over your lips and your tongue involuntarily moved, causing him to inhale through gritted teeth. You expected a scolding, but he just pushed your head down further onto him. You moaned and chocked back a gag.

“My good girl.” He murmured, as he kept playing with your hair. “Be a good girl for daddy, so he can finish reading this, okay?”

You didn’t respond and how would you have accomplished that? You just stayed in place, keeping your head still. Your fingers twitched to reach between your legs and do something against the burning ache there, but you didn’t. It would only cause him to torment you further, to withdraw your release or keep you on edge.

Minutes passed and the only sound was his ragged breathing and your own.

His grip on the newspaper was painfully tight – normally he had a better grip on his composure. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t had sex in two days. Maybe it was because he felt your legs shaking.

The evidence of your own arousal was slowly dripping down your thighs and you let your eyelids flutter shut. You choked back any sounds you wanted to make, your hands gripping the edge of the sofa tightly.

“Fuck this shit. Fine.” He sighed out, before he slammed the paper onto the couch. “Come, darling, make daddy feel good.”

You didn’t hesitate.

You always loved to pleasure him with your mouth, for many different reasons. The sounds he made, his grip on you…almost like his life depended on it. It was exhausting of course, but it was worth it. You almost came, just kneeling there, being at his mercy – and somehow, it was you in control nonetheless. Of course he’d guide your movements every now and then, force a gag over your lips, but other times, when he was in a softer mood, he’d just…

Admire you.

His mouth slightly agape, his brows furrowed, he stared down at you like a man starving and you were the water he desperately needed. His grip on the back of your head was firm, but not painful, just enough to allow him to massage his fingertips into your scalp.

“Oh, fuck. Yeah, just like that, baby. Just like…ah, fuck.”

His eyes fluttered shut and you used the opportunity to bring your hand between your legs, dying for any kind of friction. But he caught the movement and quickly caught your wrist.

“No, baby, no. I’m going to make you feel better than you ever have before, but you’re going to listen to me. Understand?”

You forced yourself to nod, though you almost felt tears of desperation sting your eyes. You hadn’t felt this needy in…

Probably not that long ago. He kept doing this to you. And as much as you hated it, as much did you love it, because in the end…

He always made up for it.

Before you had the chance to thrive on your determination to make him cum, he pulled your head back, causing you to whimper.

“Good girl.” He gritted out, his grip on your face bruising. “Such a good girl.”

He pulled you up onto the couch and pushed you back into the cushions.

“Are we above begging, huh?”

You shook your head in a way that could only be described as hysterical. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum, daddy.” You breathed out, your face flushed red.

He smirked in that devilish way, looming above you and making a face as if considering.

You whimpered again and his smirk widened into a full-blown grin. “Beg a little more, sweet girl.”

You licked your lips and bit down on them as you pressed yourself back into the couch, involuntarily arching into his touch. “Please. Please, I’m begging you, I…I’m so…Please…”

He hummed approvingly. “That’s a good girl, if I’ve ever seen one.”

His head dipped forward and his lips brushed over the side of your neck. He kissed a path from your neck to your earlobe, where he gently bit down on it. “Do you want me that bad, hm?”

Your eyes rolled back in your head and you nodded, sliding your hands over his bare back.

“I want to have a taste first.” He breathed in your ear, causing your body to tremble and your toes to curl. Your throat felt too dry to form a response, but that wasn’t necessary. He leaned down and parted your lips with his tongue, delving in for a kiss that was as messy as it was desperate.

You moaned and arched your hips up against his, feeling his slick hardness against your soaked panties.

He hissed in response and bit down on your lip. “God, you’re killing me.”

In no time, he kissed his way down your body. The way his hands smoothed your clothing out of the way made you shiver. You were a puddle in his hands, unable to move or breathe, all you could do was gasp and whimper.

He ran his fingertip over your slit, which caused you to inhale sharply.

“My God.” He murmured. “I don’t think I’ve ever had you this wet before.”

You whimpered in response, biting down on your tongue to keep any more pathetic sounds back.

He smirked and hooked his fingers under the material, pulling them off of you torturously slow.

“Fuck.” He all but growled, when he came back up. You felt his hot breath against your core and it was enough to make you cry.

“Please-“

“Patience.” He spoke calmly. How could he be so feral and suddenly so composed, all within a minute? Maybe he had more than just two personalities.

He ran his hands up from your ankles to your knees, before he swiftly hooked them around his shoulders.

“I want to hear you, okay?”

You swallowed and nodded. You were sure you had a fever by now.

And then he finally touched you.

The sound you made when his flat tongue ran over your slick folds was hardly even human, but you didn’t hold anything back. You just leaned back – and relaxed.

If one could call it that.

His gentle ministrations quickly turned into something else entirely, because soon he ran the tip of his tongue in circles around your sweet spot, before he attacked it with his pursed lips.

Your hand found his hair almost involuntarily. It had to hurt, the way you tugged at it, but you couldn’t help yourself. You guided his movements, practically using him to pleasure yourself.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God-“

He hummed and the vibrations it sent through your core alone were enough to make you arch your back.

“Oh, fuck!”

It didn’t take you a full minute to end up writhing and crying out, your body nearly floating from the sofa.

But he didn’t stop there.

It was almost painful, the way he kept working his mouth, kept lapping and licking, kissing as he would your mouth.

“Oh, oh, oh God…”

And soon, you felt yourself tip over the edge again, this time even more intensely than the first time.

“Please…can’t take…more…”

Your legs were shaking and so was the rest of you. You felt hot and cold at the same time and you kept feeling as feverish, until he finally decided to be merciful and pull away.

He slowly crawled back until he was hovering over you again, his lips curved into a devilish smirk.

“Oh, that was delicious.”

“I hate you.” You whispered breathlessly.

That made him laugh and he leaned down to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his lips and it made you moan.

“Too bad.” He murmured against your lips. “Because I love you.”

You sighed deeply and bit down on his lower lip. “I love you, too, you demon.”

His smirk widened into something more genuine. “And what does that make you, hm?”

You couldn’t help but smirk in response. “Oh, shut up.”

He gently cupped your cheek in his hand and looked at you for a moment, before he let his hand wander and gently pressed it against your stomach instead. The intensity of his feeling and the softness in his eyes made your breath catch in your throat.

“I love you both.” He whispered.

You swallowed thickly, your eyes wide in surprise and admiration.

“We love you, too.” You whispered back.

He smiled and didn’t say anything more. You bit your lip and gently pressed a hand against his chest. “And what about you?”

He cocked a brow. “What about me?”

You smirked and teasingly ran your thumb along the tip of his hardness. His eyes fluttered shut and he inhaled sharply. “Ah.”

“Mhm.” You tilted your head up to meet his lips in a gentle kiss. “You know what I want?”

He shook his head, pulling his head back to meet your gaze.

Your eyes darkened in a way you had only ever seen in him. It was him. He had that effect on you. He made this of you. This mess. This wicked, wanton, needy mess.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Now his own eyes darkened and he clenched his jaw. “Is that so, hm?”

You licked your lips and nodded. “I want you to fuck me, daddy.”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, your words sending a shiver down his spine. When he opened them again, he looked feral again.

He immediately pushed your legs apart and pressed himself against your entrance. You, still wet like crazy and him glistening with precum, you forced yourself to keep your eyes open. You observed the way his brows furrowed and his breath stuttered as he slowly pushed himself inside you.

It didn’t matter how many times he did it. It was always enough to make your eyes roll back.

“Fuck.” He gritted his teeth and wrapped his fingers around your throat, but not squeezing. Only holding you, only showing you who was in control.

“Open that pretty mouth for me.”

You didn’t hesitate. And he didn’t hesitate to spit down in it.

When you closed your mouth and swallowed, you could swear, you felt him throb inside you.

He leaned in so his lips grazed your earlobe and whispered: “You’re taking me so well. Such a good girl. My beautiful, dirty girl.”

Your eyelids fluttered and you forced yourself to look up at him. He began to roll his hips against yours and you pressed yourself up against him, following his rhythm. You never thought it was possible to cum in this position, not as a woman, but he showed you that it was indeed possible.

His thumb found your sweet spot again, still heated and sensitive from his earlier attack, but that didn’t stop him.

“My good girl.”

“Ah, fuck…You’re my…My man.”

His eyes narrowed and his movements stuttered just slightly, before he caught himself and his movements only ever became more frantic. His mouth fell open and he drew in a sharp breath.

“Say that again.”

“My…” You licked your lips, your brows furrowed. “My man.”

He licked his lips as well and stared you down in a way that was deeper than any doting look he had ever given you.

“If I asked you to marry me, would you?”

You froze in your tracks and your eyes widened almost comically. “What?”

He nodded. “Would you?”

You swallowed back the lump in your throat and the way your chest tightened.

Marriage.

It wasn’t entirely ridiculous, right? After all, you were pregnant with his child. But you had never thought that far, never even dared to think of such a thing.

“What a dumb question.” You breathed out.

“Then answer it.” He whispered just as breathlessly.

Yes. Yes. For God’s sake, yes!

But you didn’t say that. Instead, your body reacted before your mind could, your lips curving into a dangerous, teasing smile. “You’ll have to be a man and risk asking me for real.”

He smirked, his eyes filling with a warmth that you didn’t expect. “You’re so goddamn sexy when you’re being a tease for me.”

He then closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours. “I will burn this fucking world for you. Just say the word.”

You bit your lip and slowly shook your head. Your chest still felt warm under the weight of his words.

“Just love me.”

And that he did. To bliss and back.

The next evening you found yourself lying in bed, thinking about your life. So many bad things and so much pain had led you to that point. If you could go back to change it, would you?

No.

Not if it meant the outcome would be different.

You lay on his mattress, wearing no more than a dark red negligee, a pair of panties and a wistful smile. He was everything you ever wanted, everything you ever wished for in a man.

The things he made you feel, both emotionally and physically…You never even thought that possible.

You always thought you were unlovable.

You always thought no one would ever love you.

But there you were. His.

Only his.

You took a slow breath and closed your eyes, remembering the night before. Involuntarily, you felt your hand wander down your body, to the gentle curve of your belly. It was so tiny, barely even noticeable, but you did notice. You saw it, when you wore a tight dress and you felt it, whenever you thought about it. A baby.

Your baby.

His.

This wasn’t exactly what you had expected to come out of your life. This wasn’t what you anticipated either. To be honest, you had never even thought you would make it that far. You had never been able to picture yourself that way. Married, pregnant…All these things sounded foreign to you. And yet, there you were.

Lying on the bed of the man you loved, his child inside your belly.

When you heard the door click open, your smile only grew.

No matter how much time you spent with him, you always missed him like crazy.

You considered getting up and approaching him at the door just to show him how much you had missed him. But then again, you were already settled under the blanket, warm and cozy…and the way you knew him, he’d be there within two minutes anyway.

But something felt off.

You heard the door creak open and you heard his steps. Slow and measured, hesitant even. Maybe he assumed you were asleep and so he tried to be careful about it.

But you couldn’t get rid of the feeling that something was amiss.

And that was when you realized it.

He hadn’t washed his hands.

You wanted to believe that you were being paranoid, but a little voice inside your head told you that something wasn’t the way it should be.

There would be only one reason for him not to wash his hands after he came in: any kind of emergency. But if there was an emergency, if he was worried for you, wouldn’t he be running? Wouldn’t his steps be quick and relentless?

But there he was, sneaking in like a ballerina.

You sat up stiffly, careful not to make any sounds. Whatever the feeling you had was, it got worse with every minute.

Fuck.

As much as you didn’t want to think too much into it – you had to. Better safe than sorry, right?

The last time your brain went into rotting mode, you ended up being kidnapped. No matter if you wanted to call it that or not – it was a fact.

Before you knew it, you had already opened the closet, careful not to make any sounds. You crouched down and pressed your back against the back of the wardrobe, slowly pulling the door shut.

If it was him simply being careful and having forgotten, for whatever reason, to wash his hands, he’d probably panic if he came in and didn’t immediately find you. But you’d deal with that by the time it came to it. You stared through the tiny crack between the doors, holding your breath as you listened in.

The steps came closer, but they were too careful. Too slow.

And the realization hit you like a punch to the gut.

It wasn’t him.

You choked back the horror you felt and only ever leaned back against the wall. Your body felt hot and cold, your palms sweaty. Your breath was stuttering and stilling in your lungs.

Fuck.

Who on earth could that be? The police? He had killed that janitor, after all.

No, it wasn’t the police. It was only one person, you could tell. That was far worse.

You wanted to close your eyes and attempt to calm yourself, but there was no way. Your eyes stayed wide open, your breath caught in your throat. You tried not to breathe at all, to not make a single sound.

And then the door opened.

You pressed a hand against your mouth as your eyes followed the light that suddenly flooded the room before you. You saw the shoes before you saw anything else. It was still too dark and your view wasn’t exactly clear.

You held your breath.

“I know that you’re here.”

The familiarity of the voice nearly made you gasp or scream out in horror. The accent. You heard the fucking accent, because you spoke in the same way. His accent matched yours.

“You can’t hide forever, girl. Come out and maybe I’ll let you live.”

You pressed your hand tighter against your face, sucking in a sharp breath while you were at it.

Oh God. God. No. No, no, no, no, no.

But you didn’t even have the time to say a prayer in your head.

The wardrobe door was yanked open and you were immediately sure.

Your life was over.

Your lips parted in a silent scream, but all you were met with was something that was…hardly even human.

The sight of the man who had once stopped you and questioned you, who had once appeared in front of the door and who ended up on the floor in blood and shackles…

Well, that man was gone.

All that was there now was skin and bones, pale skin and probably broken bones. He bared his teeth in a crooked grin and you saw how he was missing a few of them. His bloodshot eyes were filled with darkness and terror, his lip bruised and bloody, his collarbones nearly jumping at you from the way he was so skinny.

You stumbled back against the wall, but he didn’t give you time to react.

His bony fingers wrapped around your arms and he yanked you to your feet. A part of you was almost confused at how he even managed to get anything done. Judging by the way he looked, he was barely even alive. Just a skull with hollow eyes and blood smeared all over him.

“Is he home, hm?”

You hadn’t even noticed the knife. You only ever realized his grip on it, after he pressed it against your jugular.

You gasped out loud and held your breath, your eyes wide and terrified. You wanted to speak. Wanted to scream. Wanted to fight, to run.

But then you felt it.

Slowly, at first. And then full-force.

You froze.

Your body, your mind. Yourself.

You froze. The same you always did whenever someone touched you.

The feeling was nearly foreign to you by now, because it hadn’t happened in so long. A part of you had almost assumed it wouldn’t ever happen again, because maybe, maybe he had managed to heal you. Maybe you were normal now. Maybe a touch couldn’t cause this reaction in you any longer.

Oh, how entirely mistaken you were.

“Look at that.” He smiled that unhealthy smile, a hoarse laugh rumbling in his chest. “Look at that. Aren’t you a convenient little slut?”

It wasn’t even necessary to restrain you. When he pushed you against the bed, you let him. You fell against the mattress, your limbs stiff and still. The only thing reminding you that you were still alive was your pulse. You were sure you heard it pumping in your ears, somewhere near your brain. But it felt as though you were seconds away from having a stroke.

“Please.” Your voice was hardly even audible, your lips barely moving. “I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, he paused, his expression almost contemplative. But then he pursed his lips and stretched out his arms, the notion almost lazy. “Good.” He purred. “Then it will hurt him all the more.”

He straddled you in a swift movement, ramming the knife into the mattress only a few inches from your head. You gasped and squeezed your eyes shut.

This was it.

Everything that had led you to this moment – Would you still take it? If this was how your life ended?

All the pain. All the misery. Only for your mother to get her last wish.

He leaned down and his breath hit your face, smelling of iron and blood. “You know…” He stretched out a finger and ran the tip of it down your cheek, then your neck. You whimpered and only ever squeezed your eyes shut tighter. That made him smirk. You heard his amusement clearly. “I was actually supposed to find you and bring you back. Rescue you, if you will.” He scoffed and shook his head, before he dug his fingers into your cheeks and forced a sharp gasp over your lips. “Isn’t that so fucking ironic? Rescue you. While you were here, getting fucked by this little piece of shit. Did you enjoy it? Huh? Did you enjoy spreading your legs for this bastard?”

You wanted to keep your eyes closed, to somehow escape this nightmare. But he didn’t let you. His hand cracked against your cheek with enough force to make you cry out aloud.

He had never hit you so hard.

Not even his goddamn punches had hurt that much.

You sobbed and tried to swallow back the saliva that threatened to make you choke. A hot feeling flared up in your chest – humiliation, anger, but mostly fear.

He would hurt you. He would genuinely hurt you.

“Please, I didn’t want any of this!”

“Shut the fuck up.” He slapped you again, this time even harder. Hard enough to make you go dizzy. “Will you keep that fucking, slutty mouth of yours shut or do I need to use other methods to make sure you obey?”

A soft rustling sound and then you felt it. The cold metal of the blade, pressed against the side of your neck. Your eyes shot open and you choked back a sob, trying to gasp for air, but there was none.

Were you already dead?

You shook your head, almost imperceptibly.

He nodded. “Good. But just to make sure…”

He tilted back the blade, running the tip of it over your neck. Your eyelids fluttered and all you saw was white, white, white light.

This was how dying felt.

Not being forced by your mother to sleep in a wardrobe, not having to drink water from a bowl on the floor, not event thinking you’d get raped at the metro station.

This was it.

The hardness in his eyes. The coldness. The numbness. The death.

There was nothing left of him. And soon, there wouldn’t be anything left of you either.

“P-p-please.”

But he only smirked. He only smirked and guided the tip of the blade lower and lower, until you felt it pressed against your abdomen.

You stiffened painfully much, digging your nails into your palms.

Your baby.

Your man.

Was he dead?

Oh God, had he killed him?

There was no safety in sight. No help. Nothing.

You were going to die tonight.

Never had you ever been particularly fond of life. And now that you finally were, now you were going to die.

But that didn’t hurt half as much, as did the blade against your stomach. The threat.

“I could cut that thing out of you and feed it to him.”

He wasn’t dead.

And still, his words made you shudder.

You had never even realized when you had started to cry. You simply suddenly realized your face was wet, your lashes sticky and your vision blurred.

“I’ll do whatever you want. But please-“ You sobbed out, but you stopped, when he pressed the blade harder against you.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut.” He spat.

You forced yourself to keep your eyes open and nodded frantically.

“Good.” He murmured. “Maybe you’re not entirely useless. What do we have here?”

He used the tip of the blade to cut the strap of your negligee, causing you to gasp.

“Look at that. How pretty. Like a pretty little slut.” His eyes darkened and his lip quivered in barely suppressed rage.

He leaned down and you felt his tongue run a path from your cheek to your ear. It made you shudder and tense, squeezing your eyes shut, but you forced yourself to stay still and not say a single thing. You just sobbed.

“You know what I’m going to do with you?” He smirked and ran a disgusting path with his tongue inside the shell of your ear. “I’m going to fuck your pretty little pussy. I’m going to fuck it again and again and again, until there’s nothing left of you. And only then will I cut you open.”

You were shaking and sobbing so hard that you felt nausea rise within you. Not only his words, but the intensity of your sobs was enough to make you want to puke.

“Or maybe…” He pressed the blade against your cheek and you held your breath. “Maybe I could cut your eyelids off first, hm? So I can be sure that you keep your eyes on me at all times. What do you think?”

The cold metal of the knife dragged over your face, until you felt it pressed right underneath your eye.

“Please.” Your words were slurred and choked out between sobs and gasps for air. “Please, I’m begging you. Please, I’m pregnant. He f-f…He forced me. He forced me. Please, he forced me, he dragged me here by force, He…he…made me…”

“Shh.” It was almost soothing, the way he shushed you. But the way the blade pressed into your cheek was anything but. The pain came slow, but it stung more than his slap ever could have.

“That’s why you’ve been waiting here, wearing this, hm? Because he forced you?”

You felt blood trickling down your cheek. It didn’t hurt half as much as his words did, though.

“Ah…”

“Mhm, mhm. Do you still want to defy me?"

You shook your head, trying to breathe in hysterically. But there was simply not enough air.

The cut went from your eye down to the corner of your mouth.

There went your vision from a pretty wedding dress, a sweet, young mother picking up her child from daycare. No, you were the Joker. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You wouldn’t make it to that part of your life.

If only he hadn’t stopped cutting you. Because the second he did, you felt the next blow, dark and low. His fingers traced a path down your chest, over your stomach and before you could protest, he pressed his thumb against your center. You squeezed your eyes shut and your lip quivered, a silent plea on your lips.

Not this, not him. Not someone who wasn’t your man. But he couldn’t have cared less, right?

The blade followed the path his fingers had drawn and soon enough you heard the material of your panties being cut open.

Your chest heaved rapidly, your nails biting bloody marks into your palms.

Maybe it would be over sooner than later.

Maybe he would violate you and then leave you to it. Maybe, he’d let you live at least.

Still, you couldn’t choke back the sob that threatened to drown you, when you felt the knife wander down further. The cold metal pressed against your core, sideways, and you forced yourself to stay still. You were sure, one wrong movement and you’d end up maimed for life.

For the little life you had left.

He kept the knife pressed against the bundle of nerves underneath him, while you felt two of his disgusting fingers press against your entrance.

“There, there. I thought that’s what little sluts like you want.”

He pressed forward and you cried out in horror and pain.

“Please, stop!”

You didn’t mean to speak, you knew what always happened whenever you opened your mouth, but your body reacted before the rest of you could.

He stopped for a moment, narrowing his eyes.

“You’re such a dumb fucking whore.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry for what he did to you! I didn’t ask him to, I didn’t want him to!” The words spilled from your mouth like wildfire. “What I said is true, he did force me here! But I fell in love with him and then you talked to me that day, and then you followed us home and I just- He just- He saw your gun and then he- And then he-“

“Shut up!” His free hand shot out and squeezed your face so tightly, it made you gasp. “Shut the hell up, will you? I’m not doing this, because you fell in love with him. Fuck! Do you think I care about his shit?!” He gritted his teeth and leaned down enough to be right in your face. “You wanna know what your motherfucking boyfriend did? Hm? You wanna know?” His lip quivered again and his eyes were hard enough to cut you open.

“He had my brother killed.”

That made you freeze. More than you already were.

His words sent a sharp pang through your chest and you opened and closed your mouth several times.

“What?”

“Ah, so he didn’t tell you. How fortunate.” He scoffed and exhaled through gritted teeth. “He kept asking me where your bitch of a mother is. And I told him, that I don’t know. Which I don’t. I haven’t seen her in months, right? And he kept asking me. Fuck. I told him that I don’t know. I told him! And what did he do? What did he do the next fucking day?!” The hand he used to hold your face was shaking and so was the rest of him. The crazed look in his eyes intensified to a degree where you were genuinely frightened – genuinely believed you would be dead soon.

“The next day, he showed me a picture on my own phone.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “My twin brother.” He briefly closed his eyes, before they shot open again.

“Someone had…Someone had shot him. Right in the face.” He swallowed and bit the inside of his cheek, scrunching up his nose. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he did it himself. But no, he was here, busy fucking you. Getting you pregnant. Fuck!”

He slammed the blade back into the mattress, pressing his fingers back against you, forcing your legs apart.

“I’ll fuck you ‘til you die.” He spat out.

“I didn’t know!” You sobbed out. “Please! I had no idea! Had I known-“

It was a soft sound, a gentle thud, somewhere in the apartment. And what started as a soft breath, quickly turned into running steps.

An emergency. An emergency indeed.

He had heard it, too. And the second he turned his head to look at the open door, you finally broke free from your haze.

He wanted to kill you. Your baby.

Your elbow shot out, hitting the side of his face hard enough for an ugly cracking sound to be heard. He gasped loudly and pulled back, just enough so that you could somehow scramble back from underneath him. He doubled over and pressed a hand against his temple.

The door flew open and there he was.

Oh God.

The fraction of a second. A single second.

His eyes were wide in horror, in disbelief, in surprise.

And then that was all gone. And all that was left was pure, unbridled, murderous fury.

He stormed forward and yanked the intruder off of you, leaving you finally able to breathe again.

You somehow stumbled over, getting on your knees, unable to tear your eyes off the scene.

He slammed him into the wall and began to throw punches left and right, but not in the way one might see in a movie. Not even in an underground fight. Maybe he didn’t even want to kill him. No, he wanted to cause as much damage as possible and watch him suffer.

He was shaking. Shaking in fury, shaking in rage. His fingers itching to murder. And his eyes were black.

“I found your little sister, Elliot.” He spat through gritted teeth.

The man, whose name seemed to be Elliot, slumped down against the wall, but his head perked up, his eyes immediately shooting open in alarm, despite the way his face was slowly swelling beyond recognition.

“What?” He coughed up blood. “No. I don’t have-“

“She lives in France. Clever move, Elliot, really. Thought I wouldn’t find your little French whore of a sister.”

He spun around and dragged the knife from the mattress, making you flinch. He crouched down beside him and tightened his grip on the knife.

“I wish you would live long enough to see what I have planned for her. You see, I’m a loyal man, so I won’t fuck her myself. But fuck, I’ll gather enough men to break that dumb little cocktail waitress. They’ll split her in two.”

Elliot’s eyes widened impossibly, shaking his head frantically. “No…no…no, please, she’s only twenty-six…Fuck, no, please, please, please, I’m sorry, I…”

Suddenly – his gaze met yours.

You flinched and stumbled back against the wall, inhaling sharply.

“Please, you can’t let him do that! Please!”

All you could do was stare at him.

But then his voice cut through the silence. “Get out.”

Your eyes snapped back to him, to the way his eyes were blazing with murderous intent.

“I- I-“

“Get out!”

He didn’t need to say it a third time.

You stumbled to your legs, shaking and nearly falling over, but you caught yourself in the last moment. Your legs somehow carried you outside and you ran and ran, until you reached the bathroom. You collapsed on the floor, gripping the edge of the toilet tightly. You retched and retched, aiming for the toilet and ending up puking all over yourself.

You were still shaking.

Still sobbing.

And with every pained gasp you heard from the bedroom, with every grunt, every plea for help – a little part of you died.

You had no idea how much time had passed. An hour? More? Less?

You lay curled up between the toilet and the wall, your stomach grumbling in unease. You had never felt so disgusting before, covered in blood, sweat, your own puke and the lingering touch of a dead man.

When you heard his footsteps approach, you couldn’t even lift your head.

He knelt down beside you, the movement frantic and concerned. His warm hands cupped your face, forcing you to look up at him despite your terror, despite your pain.

“No.” You heard him whisper, his fingers brushing softly over the cut on your cheek.

It sounded watery, like he was speaking through a tunnel. Everything was distant.

Was this how death felt?

He gathered you in his arms and your head lolled forward, resting against his chest. He held you like that for a long while, but you barely felt it. You were shaking like a leaf, but the sobs had died.

You had died.

“He- Wanted-“

“Did he hurt you?” He was trying to stay calm, trying for your sake. There was not much he could do to retaliate to a dead man, anyway.

“Is he dead?” You choked out.

“Don’t think about that now. Did he hurt you?”

You begrudgingly shook your head. “Not…enough to…”

You had no idea what you were even trying to say.

“I’ll take you to the hospital.” He said lowly as he attempted to get up. You caught his wrist before he could.

“He didn’t.” You choked out. “I’m not- He didn’t-“

Your gaze followed down his to your exposed body. His eyes were wide and fearful.

“Did he…”

“No! He didn’t…I mean he did try to…He…You came in.” You whispered weakly. “You came in, before he could.”

His eyes fluttered shut for the briefest moment, before he pressed you against him, cradling your head against his chest. His heart was racing in his chest and his hand pressed your head into his embrace almost painfully tight.

“This is all my fault.” He whispered hoarsely. “I lost the chip and by the time I realized it, I…This is all my fault.”

Of all the things he had done wrong, you wouldn’t let him take the blame for that.

“No.” You whispered, slowly coming out of your haze. Everything was still blurry, but the shaking began to lessen ever so slightly. “It’s not your fault. It’s his.”

“If I didn’t-“

“We’re not discussing this.” You whispered. “It’s not your fault.”

He didn’t say anything more. He didn’t want to overwhelm you any further, you could tell. And you were grateful for that.

“I’m going to take you to the hospital regardless. The stress-“

“Okay.” You whispered. “But please, I…Just let me…Give me…”

He pulled back enough to look at you, his expression pained. “I’ll take care of you. I promise, I will. And I will never leave you alone again. No one will ever touch you again.” He gritted out.

You didn’t protest when he sat you in the tub. He knelt beside it, gently washing everything off you. You just sat there, your chin resting on your knees. The warmth of the water felt good on your skin, it helped against the cruel cold in your bones. But it did little to comfort you. Nothing could ever erase the pain, the fear you felt as you lay there, entirely helpless and frozen.

You barely felt his hands as he gently cleaned you up. You closed your eyes when the warm water ran down your hair and face, but you didn’t flinch.

After a while you felt his hand gently cup your cheek. He made you look at him and you didn’t hesitate to.

“Can you ever forgive me?” He whispered barely audible.

You had never seen him like this. So…desperate.

You were sure, you would never forget the look in his eyes when he reached for the knife. The moment he saw what was going on.

You had been terrified then. And also incredibly relieved.

But you couldn’t help but ask yourself, since that was inside of him…would you always be safe? Would your child always be safe?

But then your expression softened. He looked genuinely terrified. Terrified of the possibility that he had lost your love, your trust. You.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” You whispered hoarsely. “I love you.”

He swallowed and averted his gaze, gently tightening his grip on you.

A few minutes later, you were still damp but covered in a big, fluffy bathrobe. He led you to the other bedroom and lay you down gently, pulling the covers up to your chin.

“I’ll get the doctor here instead.” He murmured. “I don’t want you to go anywhere right now.”

You didn’t protest. He sat by your side, squeezing your hand and staring down at it.

His guilt was eating him alive. And that was eating you.

You gently took his hand and pressed the softest kiss against his knuckles.

“I was just afraid. I’ll be okay.” You whispered.

But he didn’t look convinced. The pain in his eyes was so apparent, so real. You had never before seen him like that.

After a while, you slowly looked up at him. “Did you really have his brother killed?”

He stiffened slightly, but he didn’t avoid your gaze. “Yes.” He said quietly.

You were silent for a while. “Why?”

“He said things about you.” He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “Threatened you. I should have killed him back then already.”

Your guts churned and you averted your gaze.

“Your mother is in Korea.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Maybe you were indeed dead. And maybe it was better that way.

“What?” You breathed out.

You felt him nod. “She’s here. She’s in Seoul.”

He bit his lip and you kept your gaze glued to the ceiling.

“I know where she is.”

You closed your eyes and tried to sort out your thoughts. A list of pros and cons. And then you thought back to the baby in your belly. The tiny human, dependent on you. Tiny fingers and toes. Small teeth. A smile, covered in chocolate and ice cream.

Someone to love.

Someone to love unconditionally.

And then you thought back to how you how almost lost it. How your kidneys were giving up. How you had lost one, due to poisoning. You almost lost your baby because of her.

When you looked up at him, your eyes didn’t look like your own.

“I trust you.” Was all that you said.

He didn’t comment on it and he didn’t need to. His eyes said it all. He was a clever man.

He didn’t need words to understand you.

You averted your gaze again, staring up at the ceiling and gently running your thumb over the back of his hand. He loved it when you played with his hands.

He loved it when you leaned on him.

He loved it when you loved him.

He-

“Choi Seo-jin.”

You stopped in your tracks and kept your gaze focused on the ceiling. There was no confusion. You knew it. You knew what he was saying. You knew what it meant.

When you slowly tilted your head to meet his gaze, he was already looking at you. His eyes soft. Softer than ever before.

“My name. It’s Choi Seo-jin.”

You opened your mouth and closed it again. There was not much you could say.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke in a voice so soft and silky that it left you feeling breathless.

His name. His name.

“Sorry?” You breathed out.

He nodded. “For not telling you earlier. For not trusting you, when I should have. For…for all the things I have done to you. Everything.”

You stared at him, completely dumbfounded. Most of it, you had already forgiven him. Probably everything. Most likely everything.

Sure, you had told to the dead man that he kidnapped, that he forced you to be here and carry his child. But what else should you have said? You didn’t want to die. You didn’t want your baby to die. And so you lied.

It wasn’t really a lie, was it? Not a few months ago. But now you knew this was exactly where you belonged.

There was no more curtain, no uncertainty left. No guilt, no unease, no fear.

When you feared him, then you feared him as his partner. Not his victim.

“You don’t have to say that.” You said gently, but he cut you off with a sharp nod.

“Yes, I do.” He exhaled slowly and looked down at your combined hands. “I told you of my father, right? But I didn’t tell you everything.”

You held your breath and simply…let him be.

He smiled, but there was no mirth wheresoever. His eyes were cold, but not directed at you.

At the memory.

“I still hear my mother screaming, you know? Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I’m sure I can hear her. When I wake up then and see you lying beside me…It’s the only thing to bring me back.”

He bit his lip and shook his head, still not looking at you.

“He told me that no one would ever be able to love me. That no one could ever love a weak little bastard like me. Called my mother a whore. Said she slept around. He wouldn’t even be sure whose or what I was. Bastard was his go-to name for me.” He sighed and shook his head, gently playing with your fingers. “He said no one could ever love me. And everyone who ever said they did would lie.”

That was when he finally looked up to meet your gaze.

“And I believed him.” He whispered. “I was sure that no one could ever love me. No one would ever trust me. No one would ever look at me and see their lover, their husband. Their protector. They’d see me for what I was. A bastard.” He shook his head again, his voice dropping low. “I thought if I tested you enough, if I hurt you enough, you’d run. I was sure. You were a tough girl. Tough as nails. I did the most vile things to you, but you? You never tried to run. I tried to kill you and what did you do? You told me you loved me.” He clenched his jaw as he spoke. “And I was…I was so fucking confused. Why would you love me? You had to be lying. But no matter what I did, you didn’t run.” His voice turned contemplative, his gentle grip on your hand never wavering.

“He came to my room, you know.” He swallowed against something in his throat and you were sure the sound of your heart breaking was audible.

“Every so often. He…” He closed his eyes. He couldn’t say it. And he didn’t need to. Instead, you gently squeezed his hand, just a little bit tighter than usual.

Your eyes filled with tears, but you bit them back. You wanted so bad to be strong for him, especially now. He slowly opened his eyes and met your gaze, a tiny, weak smile on his lips.

“I couldn’t control it.” He whispered and slowly shook his head. “No matter what I did. I was never in control. Everything just happened. And I could only let it happen.” He clenched his jaw tighter, his grip on your hand was shaking now. “And I told myself I would never, never feel that way again. Never. And I didn’t.”

He sighed deeply. “But I think I got a little ahead of myself. And now…And you…” His gaze raked over your face, over your damp cheeks and he smiled again.

“I gave you control. I know it wasn’t much. It’s not…easy. But I’m trying. I’m really trying.”

He reached out a hand, his palm against your cheek warm and gentle. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch.

“You never took advantage of it.” He murmured. “I saw it in your face, in your eyes. That one time you slapped me or whenever I let you be in control…It’s almost like it’s hurting you physically.”

His smile widened, just the tiniest bit. “I know it now. I know that my father was nothing but a liar. And you love me.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you nodded. It was all you could do.

“Good.” He whispered. “Because…”

He took a slow breath and brought your hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss against it.

“Because I intend to marry you and make this whole thing work. I’m going to be your husband and you will be my wife. And this…” He gently pressed his free hand against your stomach. “This is our baby. And no one will ever touch our baby. We’re going to love it. And I will kill anyone who ever tries to touch either of you again.”

His voice was so firm and convincing that you were sure. He meant every word.

You couldn’t even protest. You didn’t want to.

You would be his wife.

And your baby was going to get all the love the both of you had been missing.

And then?

And then he told you everything. Everything from who he was and where he came from. Every quirk, every ick, every pain, every wish, every fear. Everything. Until you were sure.

You were meant to be there.

You were meant to be his.

And had it been him who wrote the text, who uploaded it, who decided to share his thoughts with the world. Had it been him, not you.

You would have done the same.

After an eternity of just talking and letting go of everything that dragged down his soul into the strange abyss that was his misery, he finally looked at you.

“Did I miss anything?” He murmured, before he leaned down to press a kiss against your temple.

You swallowed and nodded. “You didn’t tell me where you work.”

He sighed deeply and leaned back. “You’ll love me regardless?”

You didn’t need to think about it. You simply nodded.

You would.

He nodded as well and leaned down, just enough so you felt his breath against your skin, like the gentle kiss of a sweet spring day after a long, bitter winter. His fingers gently played with your hair, the movement absentminded.

His eyes softened even more and he looked at you with nothing less than pure trust.

“Tell me, darling…Have you ever played the Squid Game before?”

_________________________________________

Tag list 1 :@mitsuki-dreamfree@kpopsmutty69@heroine-chique@vkeyy@mizuwki@blu-brrys@z0mbi345@yourpointbreak@ayieayee@freddyzeppsworld@lola11111111@indifitel6661@salesmanlover08@laurenbenoit70@lalalaa2210@lila-marshal@auspicious-lilana@0-aubrie0@lovelyaegyo@theredvelvetbitch@violentbluess@muriels-lover@dorayakissu@eviebuggg@muchwita@ririgy@strxlemon@obsessedwthdilfs@kiwilov3@misty-q @koigguki

Author's note 2: Sorry for traumatizing you, guys. I hope whatever I wrote made any sense...My brain is a mess, it's 2.30am and I'm going to sleep now. I loveeeee you! 🤍

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gothamsmom · 13 hours ago

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OMG YESSS THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I NEEDED TO WRITE TODAY! Here ya go, dear, enjoy the sleep-deprived chaos!

"Guys, seriously, SHUT UP!" Duke's voice echoed down the hallway, cracking a little from exhaustion. He'd been operating on maybe four hours of sleep, and that was a generous estimate. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, and he'd just finished his morning patrol. Now, he was met with the cacophony of the night shift returning.

"Sorry, Duke! We ran into a little... situation," Jason's voice boomed, followed by the distinct sound of something heavy being dropped.

"A 'little situation' that involved bringing half a demolition site back to the manor?" Duke grumbled, rubbing his eyes. He stumbled into the living room, where the rest of the family was scattered like fallen dominoes. Damian was sharpening his katana, Dick was trying (and failing) to suppress a yawn, and Tim was typing furiously on his laptop, probably already analyzing whatever "situation" they'd dragged back. Bruce was… somewhere, probably brooding in the cave.

"It wasn't that bad," Dick protested, wincing as he stretched. "Just a small gang war, a rogue meta, and, okay, maybe a collapsing building."

"And you brought all of that here?" Duke asked, his voice rising in incredulity. "I'm trying to sleep, you know!"

"We were quiet!" Jason insisted, though the trail of debris leading to the med bay suggested otherwise.

"Quiet? You sound like a herd of elephants doing a tap-dancing recital!" Duke snapped. "I swear, I haven't slept properly in days. Every night, it's the same thing: explosions, shouting, someone getting thrown through a wall—"

"Hey, that was just one wall," Jason muttered.

"ONE WALL TOO MANY!" Duke yelled, his patience finally snapping. "I'm going to lose my mind! I swear, if I hear one more explosion before noon, I'm moving out!"

He turned and stormed towards his room, slamming the door behind him. The entire manor seemed to hold its breath. A moment later, a muffled thump echoed through the house, followed by a series of frustrated groans.

Later that day, Duke woke up to an eerie silence. He cautiously opened his door and peeked out. The hallway was empty, and there was a strange, almost… serene atmosphere. He walked downstairs, where he found Bruce standing in the living room, looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

"Duke," Bruce said, his voice unusually soft. "I… I apologize. I understand your frustration. I've had soundproofing installed in your room, and throughout the surrounding area. I hope this helps."

Duke stared at him, then at the thick, padded panels lining the walls. He cautiously tapped one, then grinned. "Wow. This is… actually amazing. Thanks, Bruce."

Bruce nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "You deserve a good night's sleep, Duke."

"Or day's sleep, in my case," Duke corrected, already feeling his eyelids getting heavy again. He turned and headed back to his room, closing the door behind him.

As he drifted off to sleep, he could faintly hear the muffled sounds of the rest of the family trying to tiptoe around the manor. He smiled. Maybe, just maybe, he'd finally get some rest.

Duke fighting in the day and everyone else fighting at night is hilarious if just for the sleep scheduling conflict.

How tf does he get any sleep? I know it's a mansion and the batfam is supposed to be the stealthiest heroes in the business but they are also so, so notoriously loud and always fighting each other and all of the emergencies are going to happen at like 3AM.

I want to see fics of a sleep deprived Duke just eventually snapping and going off on them and Bruce apologizing and installing soundproof everything for Duke's bedroom

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ksdarou · 2 days ago

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Karina Free Use Part.1

Words: 2549

Tags : Big tits, free use, Handjob, titty fuck, public sex

"What the fuck are you looking at?"

The harsh voice snapped me out of my daydream. I jumped, almost dropping my phone. I had been staring at it a little too intensely, lost in a sea of fantasy. The guy glaring at me was a head taller, with a buzz cut and arms bulging out of a sleeveless shirt. The gym was not a place for the faint-hearted.

"Nothing," I mumbled, shoving the phone into my pocket. I tried to act casual, but my heart was racing. It was just another Tuesday morning, and the last thing I needed was a confrontation. I was here to escape reality, not to become part of someone else's grind. I wiped the sweat off my forehead and headed for the exit, feeling his eyes on my back.

As I stepped into the cool dawn, the world looked different. The sky was a canvas of shades, not yet fully painted by the sun. The air smelled faintly of rain and the promise of a new day. I took a deep breath and started my trek to university. It was a long walk, but it gave me time to think, or not think.

"Hey, wait up!"

The voice was unexpected, soft, and definitely female. I turned to see a figure in the shadows of a nearby alley. She stepped into the light, and my jaw dropped. It was her. Karina, my favorite K-pop idol, dressed in a skimpy outfit that left nothing to the imagination. I blinked, half-convinced it was just another fantasy playing tricks on me.

"You're not going to just leave me here, are you?" she giggled, a coy smile playing on her lips.

I couldn't believe it. This had to be a prank, a hallucination, anything but real. But she looked so...real. Her eyes sparkled with a mischief that was somehow both innocent and seductive.

"Are you okay?" I managed to croak out.

"More than okay," she said, stepping closer. "I'm here for you."

Her breasts were...enormous, and they were pushed up so high they almost didn't look real. But it was what was written on them that had me frozen. In bold letters, it said "FREE USE". I blinked again. This had to be a joke.

"What does that mean?" I finally asked, pointing at her chest.

"It means," she began, her voice dropping to a whisper, "that you can do whatever you want with these."

I stared, dumbfounded. This couldn't be happening. But as she leaned in and whispered the words "free use" again, I felt a stirring in my pants. My brain was in a fog, but my body was definitely responding.

"What...what do you mean?" I stuttered.

Karina just chuckled and placed her hand on my chest. "You know what I mean," she said, her voice low and sultry. "I want you to use me. To satisfy your wildest desires."

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. This was insane. But she was here, and she was speaking to me, and her hand was moving down my body.

I stood there, my brain trying to process the absurdity of the situation. This had to be some kind of prank, right? But the way Karina's hand slid down my chest and grazed the bulge in my pants was all too real. Her fingers felt like silk, sending waves of electricity through my body.

"You've seen my videos, haven't you?" she whispered, her breath warm against my ear. "You've imagined touching me, tasting me, fucking me."

My cheeks burned with embarrassment, but I couldn't deny it. I had spent countless hours watching her performances, my hand buried in my pants as I dreamt of this moment. And now it was happening, right here in a hidden corner of the park.

"I-I'm not sure..." I stammered, trying to regain control.

"Don't worry," she purred, taking my hand and placing it on her breast. "You can do whatever you want. I'm all yours."

The feel of her soft flesh was overwhelming. I squeezed gently, and she gasped. Her eyes closed in pleasure, and she leaned into me, pressing her body against mine.

"Come on," she urged, her hand guiding mine to her nipple. "Show me how much you've wanted me."

I pinched her nipple, and she let out a soft moan. My other hand found its way to her other breast, and I began to massage them both, feeling her breath quicken.

"More," she breathed, pushing her chest into my palms. "Harder."

The words "free use" echoed in my head, and I couldn't resist anymore. I bent down and took one of her nipples into my mouth, sucking and biting it as she had done in my fantasies. She tasted sweet, like the candy I used to sneak from the corner store.

Karina's hand snaked around my neck, pulling me closer. "You like it?" she asked, her voice thick with lust.

I nodded, unable to form words. She pushed me back and unzipped my pants, her eyes never leaving mine. She took out my cock and began to stroke it, her movements slow and deliberate. I groaned, my knees threatening to buckle.

Without warning, she dropped to her knees, taking me in her mouth. The sensation was unlike anything I had ever felt. Her tongue swirled around me, and I could feel her teeth graze my skin. She took me deep, her throat tightening around me, and I gasped.

Her eyes looked up at me, full of fire. She was enjoying this as much as I was. I threaded my fingers through her hair, gently pushing and pulling as she sucked and licked.

The tension was building, and I knew I couldn't last much longer. But she had other plans. With a pop, she pulled away and stood up, her lips glistening with saliva.

"Turn me around," she ordered, spinning on her heel. "I want you to fuck my tits."

I obeyed, my hands shaking with anticipation. She bent over, her ass sticking out, and placed her hands on the cold metal of the park bench. I stepped up behind her, aligning my cock with her cleavage.

The moment I pushed into her, it was like hitting the jackpot. Her breasts enveloped me, warm and soft, and she began to squeeze them together, creating the perfect channel for me to slide in and out.

I grabbed her hips, thrusting harder and faster, lost in the sensation. She moaned and whispered encouragements, her breath hot on the back of my neck.

"Fuck me, baby," she panted. "Use my tits like you own them."

The world around us faded away, and all I could focus on was the rhythmic sound of our bodies slapping together. The scent of her perfume filled my nose, mixing with the earthy smell of the damp grass.

My climax was building, and I could feel the heat spreading through my body. I was about to come when she stopped me, her hands pressing against my hips.

"Not yet," she breathed, her grip on my hips tightening. "I want to feel you explode all over me."

I panted, trying to hold back, my cock pulsing with the need for release. Karina turned to face me, her eyes smoldering. She took a step back and sat down on the bench, her legs spread wide.

"Finish on me," she said, her voice a siren's call. "I want to see your face when you come."

I couldn't resist. I stepped closer, and she leaned back, her breasts still heaving from our earlier encounter. I stroked myself, watching her watch me with a mix of excitement and hunger.

The first rope of cum shot out, landing on her chin. She licked it off with a grin, her tongue darting out like a serpent's. The second hit her cheek, and she leaned in, taking the head of my cock into her mouth again to catch the rest. Her eyes never left mine as she swallowed, savoring every drop.

When I was finally spent, she stood up and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a smear of cum glistening on her cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with sincerity. "That was amazing."

I couldn't believe what had just happened. I had just come all over my favorite K-pop idol, and she was thanking me for it.

"Don't go anywhere," she said, her eyes twinkling. "I've got something else for you."

Before I could protest, she turned and sashayed away, disappearing into the early morning mist. I stood there, my pants still around my ankles, my cock still half-hard and covered in her spit.

What had just occurred felt like a dream. Was it real? I wondered as I pulled up my pants and tucked my shirt back in. But the sticky mess on my stomach was a stark reminder of the reality of the situation.

As I started to make my way to university, I felt a buzz in my pocket. It was my phone, and it was ringing. The screen was lit up with an unknown number.

"Hello?" I answered tentatively.

"Did you enjoy your little gift this morning?" It was Karina.

My heart skipped a beat. "How did you...?"

"I have my ways," she chuckled. "But that was just a taste. If you want more, you know where to find me."

The line went dead, leaving me with more questions than answers. But one thing was clear: my life had just taken a very unexpected, very exciting turn.

I walked the rest of the way to school in a daze, my mind racing with possibilities. What had I gotten myself into? Was this a once-in-a-lifetime encounter, or the beginning of something more?

When I arrived at my first class, my thoughts were still a whirlwind. I couldn't focus on the lecture, the images of Karina's breasts and her eager mouth playing on a loop in my head.

As the day dragged on, the buzz in my pocket grew more insistent. Text messages from her, filled with naughty suggestions and promises of more "free use" sessions. I was torn between excitement and fear.

But as the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, I knew I had to see her again. The allure was too strong, the temptation too great. I sent her a simple message: "Where?"

The reply came swiftly. "Tonight, same place."

My heart raced as I counted down the hours, the anticipation building like a pressure cooker. I couldn't wait to see what she had in store for me, to feel her warm, willing body against mine once again.

The sun had barely set when I found myself back in the park, the same hidden corner shrouded in darkness. The air was electric with anticipation.

"You came," she whispered from the shadows.

"Couldn't stay away," I admitted, my voice hoarse with desire.

Karina stepped into the light, dressed in something even more revealing than before. She beckoned me closer, her eyes promising a night of unbridled passion.

And as we disappeared into the night, my mind swirling with the heady mix of disbelief and lust, I felt a strange sense of power. Like I had been handed the keys to a kingdom I had only ever dreamt of.

We found ourselves in a deserted part of the park, the moon casting eerie shadows on the ground. Karina looked up at me, her eyes shimmering with excitement.

"Take off your clothes," she demanded, her voice firm yet seductive.

I obeyed, my hands trembling as I stripped down to my boxers. She took in the sight of me with a hungry gaze, her teeth lightly grazing her bottom lip.

When I was fully exposed to the cool night air, she stepped closer, her fingers tracing the lines of my abs. "You're so beautiful," she murmured, her breath warm on my skin.

I felt my cheeks flush at the compliment. This wasn't the Karina from the posters on my wall, the one who sang about love and friendship. This was a different side of her, one I never knew existed.

Her hands traveled down to my cock, which was already starting to swell again. She began to stroke me, her movements slow and deliberate, her eyes locked onto mine.

"I want you to fuck me," she breathed. "Hard."

I couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth. But the desire was too intense to ignore. I stepped closer, pushing aside the last of my inhibitions.

We tumbled onto the soft grass, our bodies entwined. Her legs wrapped around me as I slid inside her, feeling her warm wetness envelop me. She moaned, her nails digging into my back as I began to move.

Our rhythm grew faster, our breaths coming in ragged gasps. The world around us melted away, leaving only the sound of our bodies crashing together under the moonlight.

Karina's eyes rolled back in her head as she climaxed, her body spasming around me. I followed soon after, my own release a blinding explosion of pleasure.

As we lay there, panting and tangled in the aftermath, I knew that this was only the beginning. A new chapter in a story that had just started to unfold.

And as we made our way back to the real world, the world of classes and deadlines and responsibilities, I couldn't shake the feeling that nothing would ever be the same.

The "free use" had become a drug, a secret thrill that fueled my every step. And like any addict, I knew I would crave it again and again.

The park was empty when we parted ways, the night swallowing us up as we disappeared into the shadows. I walked home with a spring in my step, the ache in my body a sweet reminder of the night's events.

The next day was a blur of anticipation, my thoughts consumed by the promise of another meeting with Karina. Her messages had grown more explicit, more demanding, and I found myself eager to please, to give her what she wanted.

As the sun set and the stars began to peek through the clouds, I made my way back to the park, my heart racing with excitement and a hint of fear. What would she ask of me this time?

But when I arrived, she was already there, waiting for me with that same mischievous smile. "Ready for round two?" she purred, her voice a siren's song that I couldn't resist.

And so it continued, our clandestine meetings becoming a regular part of my life. A secret that I kept hidden from everyone, a guilty pleasure that fueled my every waking moment.

But secrets have a way of coming out, and as the weeks turned into months, the weight of our encounters grew heavier. I could feel the tension building, the inevitable storm on the horizon.

One night, as we lay together in the aftermath of our passion, she whispered something that made my blood run cold. "I want you to share me," she said, her voice filled with a hunger that I didn't quite understand.

I knew then that our relationship had entered a new phase, one that I wasn't sure I was ready for.

To be continued in part 2

#karina smut #aespa smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #female idol smut #male reader smut #kpop #karina #aespa #aespa karina #aespa karina smut

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sweetnerblvd · 17 hours ago

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SUGAR, SPICE, AND EVERYTHING

NICE! . . . E.W

summary; baking lessons with ellie get messy!

pairing; baker!ellie x fem!reader

cw; very slight usage of y/n! (i'm sorry). food play. dom!ellie. top!ellie. oral!r (receiving). fingering!r (receiving). mdni.

w/c; 1.4k

a/n; hi cuties! this is kinda uhh horrible! i made this in literally one day bc i wanted to post something for u guys so bad. writers block has been a bitch lately! sorry this isn't dark content and kind of boring :( i promise some is coming soon! this is also a little short so sorry about that too. lowkey expecting this to flop buttt i hope u enjoy it anyways lovelies <3 (not proofread, i apologize if there are any mistakes. eventually, i will go back and edit it but rn i can’t be bothered lol.)

you didn't have a clue about baking. and, this was a real disadvantage to you since one of your friends was having a small get together where all of you were going to bake cupcakes, brownies, cookies, whatever sweets you could think of.

your friends did these every month and you were tired of missing out; miserably tapping through each one of their instagram stories while you sat at home in bed, rotting.

so, you did what any other reasonable person would've done, and you scheduled yourself a baking lesson. just a one on one with you and... and ellie.

ellie was a baker that you found through instagram, who just so happened to live merely 15 minutes away from you.

y/n_l/n: hey! just saw one of your vids, you do lessons right? i was wondering, if we live somewhat close, you could give me one? my friends are having a small bake day this saturday, so it would have to be before then. no pressure, thank you!

after a while of scrolling through your page and, well, maybe getting a little turned on by some of your very-obvious, attention seeking bikini posts-- at least, to her-- she decided that she was going to give you a lesson for free.

ellie.w.bakes: sorry for getting back to you so late. i would love to! thursday, 12:30 sound alright to you? here's my address if you're still interested. [1 attachment: ellie.w.bakes location]

y/n_l/n: yup! i'll be there. also, looks like we only live about 15 minutes away from each other. haha, that worked out. thank you so much!

and you were there; there sitting in your car, 15 minutes early, parked in front of ellie's house, trying to calm yourself down before the lesson. god, why was this making you so nervous all of a sudden? maybe it was the thought of her in an apron, with her hair pulled back, hands kneading the soft, floury dough-- okay, this was getting out of hand.

as you— finally— made your way up to ellie's front door, the spring air delved around your not-so-calm body, but the delicate breeze did help your sweating a little bit.

you knocked on the door, which was painted a nice, light cream color, complimenting the rest of her home.

when ellie opened the door, you froze. she looked exactly how you pictured her. in an apron, hair pulled back... just hot.

you don't know why you froze. it was like you weren't expecting her to actually answer or something. even though you booked this class three days ahead of time.

"y'alright there, angel face? looks like y've seen a ghost. come on in, i promise i don't bite." ellie's words were laced with a crooked grin and a smug tone. they snapped you out of your embarrassingly obvious staring and back into reality.

"right, yes. thank you."

as you made your way through ellie's home, you took note of the the strong vanilla scent, probably coming from the kitchen, which attacked your nostrils immediately. not in a bad way, it wasn't a bad smell. it was just a lot.

ellie's eyes drank your form in as you walked in front of her. one thing she noticed, you definitely didn't edit those instagram posts she was stalking. every single part of your body, head to toe, looked like it was sculpted by the gods themselves.

once the two of you made it to the kitchen, ellie sweetly took your purse and coat, hanging them up on a nearby shelf. what a gentlewoman.

your smile was almost as sweet as the cupcakes you were about to make, and ellie couldn't get enough of it. every time you flashed your pearly whites at her, she swore she almost fainted.

and every time ellie's skilled, slim fiingers sunk into the buttery dough to knead it deftly had you biting your lip. this lesson wasn't going well at all. how were you supposed to learn a thing when you were so pathetically distracted by her hands?

maybe it was just you. maybe you were the perverted one for thinking all of this. no, no. she was definitely trying to shove it in your face.

after you finished the lesson and grabbed your purse, you walked over to ellie to thank her and ask how much it was going to cost.

"so, how much will this be? i could venmo, or i have cash--"

ellie cut you off, "don't you worry ‘bout that, sweetie pie. beginner lessons are always free." psh, no they're not.

you gave her a confused tilt of your head. surely that wasn't true. "a-are you sure? it's really no problem, i could just pay you and get it over with."

"i'm serious. plus, i was thinking you could repay me in a different way. i was a pretty swell teacher, wasn't i?"

and this was exactly how you ended up naked, panties down to your ankles, heels kicked off to somewhere else in the kitchen, and whipped cream covering both of your nipples.

ellie’s hungry mouth latched onto one of your cream covered nipples and slurped up every drop of whipped cream like her life depended on it.

your manicured nails dug into the back of her head, forcing her mouth down onto your boob as she sucked and licked all over it.

“ellie, please,” your needy bitching and whining finally reached ellie’s lust filled ears.

“mm?” she hummed in curiosity while lifting her head up. “what is it, doll?”

you huffed in frustration. “y-your fingers. please. fingers, mouth… anything.”

“good girl, telling me what she wants.” ellie reached over on the counter to grab some strawberries that you had just used to bake, then placed them in a neat line leading down to your dripping pussy, which was currently clenching around nothing. cute.

the final cold strawberry was placed on your cunt and you let out a little gasp. it had been ages since someone treated you this good, with so much patience and delicacy.

ellie made intense eye contact with you as she ate her way down to your pussy, her green eyes glaring up into yours with so much hunger, she almost didn’t look like a human, just a starved beast.

when ellie’s tongue reached the final strawberry that was so perfectly placed on top of your aching clit, she took a tiny bite out of it first, then pressed it down with her teeth, the pressure making your clit twitch and throb even more than it already was.

“prettiest pussy i ever seen in m’life. looks so delicious,” and ellie took that seriously. because when she started eating you out, it was like your brain short circuited. she wasn’t afraid to get messy at all. she really treated your cunt like it was the best meal she had ever tasted in her life.

you arched your back up and lifted your hips off of the counter only to buck them towards ellie’s mouth, needing more. “f-fuck, ellie!” strangled moans strung from your throat and echoed throughout the whole kitchen.

ellie kept one thumb rubbing at your clit while she detached her juice covered mouth from your pussy to instead shove two fingers inside of your sopping hole.

“sucking me in so, so good, baby. you got it…” she praised and whispered sweetly as if she didn’t just force two long fingers into your guts.

“ah!” you hissed sharply. the bone and skin of ellie’s fingers stuffed you up just the right amount, not too much, not too little. and she was right, your pussy swallowed up her fingers up fast.

ellie started erratically pumping her digits in and out of your tight, little hole, leaving you rolling your eyes into the back of your head and trying to hump her hand.

“shit, shit, shit! els, g-g’nna cum!”

she gently grabbed your spazzing hips and relaxed them a little. “yeah, that’s good, that’s good. let me see that sweet pussy cum. give it to me, baby.”

and you did. your cum came gushing out of your pussy in hot floods, completely coating and drenching ellie’s wrist in your liquid.

“shit, there you go. look at that.” ellie slowed her fingers down, letting you ride out your orgasm and making sure to milk you dry before finally pulling out.

ellie brought her fingers up to her (already) dripping mouth and licked her fingers clean of your sweet, sweet cum, followed up by a:

“tastes just like vanilla frosting. can y’give me another one before you gotta go, babe?”

#౨ৎ sweetnerblvd .ᐟ .ᐣ #ellie williams smut #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams oneshot #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie smut #baker!ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou smut #tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams drabble

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henneseyhoe · 2 days ago

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A Lieutenant's Daughter and a Soldier's Heart

Terry Richmond x BLACK!FEM!reader

Order: Tea (Angst), Coffee (Smut), Smores (Virginity), Red Velvet Cake (Romantic style(at first)), Chocolate Wafer (Forbidden Love)

SUMMARY: You’ve been getting close with a new friend lately, a little too close for Terry’s liking, someone who shouldn’t have even known of your existence in the first place.

🍰 ˚～Henny’s Bakery!

✮✮✮✮

If there was something you knew how to do, it was to attract what you needed to keep away the most, the latest secret from your father being one of his officers. As a lieutenant, your fathers job was to protect and keep things in line. It was a dangerous job regardless if he was in contact with the danger directly or not and because of that, people barely knew you existed.

The stone cold lieutenant with a daughter? No, surely not! He could never love anything; This is what he liked everyone to think.

It wasn’t until you were caught in his office by Terry that the cat was out of the bag (for him at least).

You were no assistant! Not sitting there looking exactly like lieutenant's wife with a younger face, And you definitely weren’t the same party girl he saw at the club last night, not in that uniform.

You two spent half that day bickering, the other half with you begging him not to tell anyone who you were, not to let your father know that you slipped up and told someone, and absolutely not where he first knew you from. The white flag you raised along with a handshake in solidarity and agreement that he scratch your back and you scratch his (blackmail, really) sprouted an unlikely and unruly friendship…And something more you couldn’t yet explain.

I mean, it wasn’t like you two were fucking…you just hung out, kept company. Maybe kissed a little here and there, but Terry was too emotionally unavailable for you to go any further. You wanted to be with him, to give yourself to him, but he was stubborn as a mule, so why force and beg for what you knew you couldn’t have?

So, you tried to move on. Key word: try.

You hadn’t even known Terry was the jealous type until the recent incident.

When he saw you with someone else, going the places you two went, making the jokes you two made together, it ticked something off in him. The way he made you laugh alone had him salty.

“nigga is not that damn funny..” He’d think as he heard your laugh across the room.

He wished he could get away from the both of yall, but unfortunately for Terry, the guy was a private, small fish, and the man who adored you the most was his boss.

Was he better than Terry? Did he make you feel the way Terry knew he made you feel? All different questions that went through Terry’s mind that had him spinning, practically wishing death on a man he didn’t know from a can of paint, to his grandmother's dismay if she knew.

Terry was sick. Even sicker when flowers started to show up.

It led him to start with you all the time, it felt like you two weren’t even friends anymore, if you could even call y’all’s relationship that.

“Why do you care who I hang out with?” You squint at the man, Terry rolling his eyes in response.

“I don’t. I'm just saying. You don’t know this nigga, yall just met and you drinking with him and shit. Since when you start doing all that?”

You stare at him, patience wearing thin. Did he invite himself over just to piss you off? He didn’t care, he was gonna plant whatever seed he could to get you away from him, unfortunately it was just making you hate him a little more.

“It’s illegal to get drinks with a friend? Where was this energy when I didn’t know you and we was chilling?”

“Exactly though! That just shows how irresponsible you are, we shouldn’t even be friends right now! I could have been crazy or some shit”

It was a bit humorous to you, but you couldn’t even crack a smile or else he’d think you weren’t serious.

Licking the inside of your cheek, you huff. “You are crazy. Now move from in front of the door so I can go! You making me late nigga!”

“No. I said no” He repeated.

“What is your issue? Since when did you give a fuck about who I hang around? Since when did I become a top priority to look after? I’m grown”

“I know you are, I never said you couldn’t hold your own-“

“Then MOOOVE!” You nearly sounded like an irritated cow, but you were over the antics. If you had to fight to get out, you would at this point.

“No!”

“Why?!”

“Cause I don’t trust him! I don’t like you being with him or around him, he’s bad for you”

“Oh please, spare me from the lecture, *dad*. You’re just jealous”

He scoffed “Of what? He’s not better than me-“

You smirk bitterly. “See? You can’t even admit it, yet you wanna make a point that you’re better than him... You have a really sick attachment to me, but don’t wanna do shit about it. I’m not about to sit around and wait for you to make the moves I want you to, Terry, find somebody else to do it. Get help, and cope”

Adding salt to injury is all you did. Nothing you said made what he felt better, but it wasn’t like you were trying to comfort him either.

Your expression made Terry move to deflect as a defensive mechanism, but he couldn’t even do that. He didn’t have the heart to gaslight or fight about it, you were damn right.

“I don’t want you to wait, I never asked you to postpone anything for my own personal reasons”

“Then what the fuck do you want from me, Terry? You’re standing in front of the door like you got something to say but shit is coming out of your mouth. You wanna say something? Say it and leave the ego behind”

Thick silence fell upon the room as you gave him the ultimatum of the night, but as he stared with those eyes you admired on nights it was just you two, it only heated you even more. He didn’t care about the ultimatum. He didn’t care to have you stuck, he was too stuck in his own ways.

He stood his ground, quiet like you expected. You chuckle with no humor and shake your head.

“Right. Move so I can go”

“I told you already, you ain’t going”

He took authority like it was already his, and it wasn’t.

“You told me??? Move out the fucking way”

“No”

“Move!”

He shook his head like a bad kid refusing to eat broccoli, a childish gesture that had you halfway ready to use the army knife in your chanel purse.

You squint. “I’m finna move you myself in a minute…”

“Move me? You?” He looks you up and down, kissing his teeth. “You couldn’t move something with wheels”

“You’ll need two pairs of wheels when I'm done. Let’s see if I can move the chair with them by yourself when you get out the hospital”

Terry’s eyes darkened, his face reading an expression you didn’t expect from your threat.

“And this is the part where I’m supposed to be scared?”

You stepped closer with no fear, determined to make it out that door without folding, one of your hands flying up to push him before he caught it in his large hands.

Holding tight, he yanked you closer to him, so close you could feel each others breath.

“Let go of me, Terry” Your voice shook.

“Back up out my face and sit down before I sit you down”

“Sit me down, I don’t care!”

You said that with the initial plan to get back up, but Terry had already cemented in his mind that he’d leave your legs shaking before you could.

✮✮✮✮

Lord knows how many times you wondered how fucking would feel. As vulgar and nasty as you felt thinking about it sometimes, nothing you thought amounted up to how you were feeling right now.

You could only stare blankly into the distance as Terry pinned you down to your own bed and slid into you from the back. You had already been wet from the borderline torturing he did on your clit before hand, strumming the little pearl until your thighs shut around his hand and your sheets got soaked.

You couldn’t even hold a proper arch for him, hips flat on the bed because of leg exhaustion thanks to all the shaking, but that didn’t stop Terry. That just made it easier to keep you from running as he rolled his hips into you slowly, kissing up your neck as if he had loved you for years.

Your moans fell softly from your lips, lipgloss long gone and wiped off somewhere on your good linens. He even talked sweet to you and held your hands while he was in it.

It was like he forgot you were about to go out with someone else before this. He didn’t.

“Could you imagine him doing this to you? Fucking you this good? Cause I can’t” Even now his obsession and jealousy shines through like a jewel in dirt, one pound following each sentence. Your lungs were deprived of oxygen every single time.

“He couldn’t fuck you like this, baby. Say it!”

“He ca-can’t—Ouuu fuck!”

What he was doing to you was straight voodoo, the type dick you could feel deep in your stomach, the type that had you looking stupid in the face, and that you did look.

You felt the tip of him reach the deepest part inside you, pushing further and further until he physically couldn’t go any further. Your poor walls knew nothing better than to hold his big dick tighter inside of you, milking him for all he had.

“Fuck! Don’t wanna let me go, do you? Tight ass pussy” He grunted, expecting no response from you, and none he got as you drooled all on your sheets.

Was this a dream? This was too good. You had no time to think about how your father would kill you if he knew what was going on in your bedroom at this very moment. His best man on the field digging his beloved daughter out like a slut. That’s what was going on.

He left you heaving, begging to be shown mercy after all that shit talking.

“Uhhh! Fuck! you gonna make me cum, Terry!”

“That’s all I want, baby. I wanna see it, give it to me” He spread your cheeks open and watched himself dip in and out of you, your cream sticking to the base of him and coating his trimmed pubic hairs.

“Yes, yes, yesss!” White flashed behind your eyes as you squeezed them shut harshly, your toes curling as you came around him again, flooding your thighs.

“Give it to me!” His hips jackhammer into yours as he pulled your tired hips back up to force an arch and leaned into you, the force of his thrusts sending you up toward the headboard with small nudges until you clutched onto the fitted sheet below you, the fabric slowly being pulled from the edges of the bed.

The sounds you made heightened and your head spun like blue birds were chirping around you to show you had not a thought left.

You could barely hear the string of “I love you”s above your head as he came, shooting ribbons of milky white cum on your back.

✮✮✮✮

💌~AND WE BACK, AND WE BACK! 🙂‍↕️ idk if i got these rankings right, nor do i care either tbh ngl 💀 i hope anon enjoyed tho, sorry for the wait, boo 🩷 and sorry for any mistakes too it’s late lmao <3

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st6rrrs · 22 hours ago

Text

BARELY MAKING IT BY - YN X RAFE CAMERON

SUMMARY: the pogues lock rafe in the bathroom of the boat

WARNINGS: cursing, violence

You and Rafe had a past, an amazing one. But after his dad died, everything changed.

He broke up with you and he was convinced that you and your friends were responsible for his father's death in South America. It wasn’t true not even close. But he didn’t care.

Rafe hated the Pogues but somehow he hated you the most. That was the part you could never understand. You had loved each other before all of this… before everything fell apart.

And yet seeing him with Sofia at the biker race and later on the beach still hurt more than you wanted to admit.

Has he really moved on that quickly? you wondered.

You pretended not to care when JJ asked if you were okay, brushing it off like it was nothing. But everyone could see right through you.

At some point your sadness turned into anger. Then surprisingly into something softer empathy.

His dad had just died. No matter how complicated their relationship was losing a parent wasn’t something you just moved on from overnight.

But the real shock came when Rafe helped you JJ and the others avoid getting arrested for a murder JJ didn’t commit.

Of course JJ had to ruin it.

He knocked Rafe unconscious, tied him up, and locked him in the bathroom of the boat the same boat Rafe had helped you all get on.

And now here you were making him a sandwich because, let’s be honest no one else was going to.

As you made your way toward the bathroom kiara stopped you.

"Y/N… what are you doing?" she asked her eyes flickering down to the tray in your hands, a sandwich, a cup of water, and aspirin.

"I'm giving this to Rafe?"

Kiara’s face twisted in disbelief. "We can’t waste food, Y/N."

You sighed in frustration. "He's gonna starve, Kiara."

She groaned knowing there was no point in arguing. "Fine. Just don’t let him out… I’m serious."

"Okay, okay! I won’t" you promised pushing past her and heading toward the small, dimly lit hallway.

Stopping at the bathroom door you took a deep breath bracing yourself for whatever attitude Rafe had in store.

You unlocked the door and stepped inside.

There he was wrists tied to the sink and the rope digging into his skin.

It looked painful.

God, I hate seeing him like this.

You avoided his gaze but you could feel him staring straight through you as you kneeled to place the tray at his feet.

"Great" he muttered as you stood back up. "Just like I said no good deed goes unpunished."

"I'm sorry Rafe" you said softly. "I… I really am. I brought you some aspirin too if you need it."

"Aspirin?" He let out a dry laugh. "Oh what? Are you gonna toss it into my mouth like a trained seal?"

You frowned.

"I'm just trying to help Rafe. But no one trusts you."

That made him snap his head toward you... his blue eyes burning with frustration.

"I was trying to help!" he shouted making you flinch.

"I-I know Rafe! But this wasn’t my decision."

And it wasn’t.

"They’ll let you out when we get there, but right now, no one trusts you."

His jaw clenched. Then—

"Fuck you, bitch!"

He kicked the tray in your direction, sending the food and water spilling across the floor.

You barely had time to shut and lock the door before he started yelling again.

"You don’t trust me, huh?"

You swallowed hard, your hands trembling as you crouched down trying to clean up the mess.

"My dad died because of you and my stupid sister! You wanna talk about trust?"

Ouch.

You winced as you heard him thrashing inside, kicking whatever he could.

You couldn’t do this. Not anymore.

Leaving the spilled food where it was.. you bolted out of the hallway heading straight for the deck.

You didn’t stop until you reached the railing sucking in the cool ocean air.

"Hey," Sarah’s voice came from beside you. You turned to see her watching you carefully. "Are you okay?"

You quickly wiped at your face, nodding. "Yeah… I just needed some fresh air."

Sarah hesitated. "Was it Rafe? You can talk to m—"

Before she could finish you turned and walked away, locking yourself in one of the boat’s tiny rooms.

Curling up on the bed as you squeezed your eyes shut.

Maybe if you slept long enough you’d wake up to a world where none of this had ever happened.

You were abruptly jolted awake by Cleo shaking you...hard.

"Hey! Wake up!" she urged, her voice urgent.

Blinking rapidly, you sat up, dazed and disoriented. The boat was swaying aggressively beneath you making your stomach churn.

"What’s happening?" you mumbled rubbing your eyes.

"Shit is going down," Cleo said before darting out of the room leaving you utterly confused.

You scrambled out of bed gripping the walls for balance as you stumbled into the dimly lit hallway.

The entire boat rocked violently, causing cabinets to rattle and loose items to crash onto the floor.

Your heart pounded as you spotted JJ leaning against a wall, swaying slightly clearly drunk.

"JJ! What the hell is going on?" you yelled over the sound of the storm raging outside.

He just shrugged lazily taking another sip from a bottle in his hand.

"No clue," he slurred.

You groaned in frustration. "Thanks a lot asshole."

Ignoring him you hurried toward the kitchen where Sarah and Cleo were frantically moving around, stuffing supplies into baskets.

"Oh, thank God!" Sarah gasped when she saw you. "Y/N help us! We need to secure everything before it gets worse!"

She shoved a basket into your hands as the boat lurched again nearly sending you stumbling backward.

Your pulse spiked as you glanced toward the small porthole window sheets of rain hammered against the glass and beyond it...the ocean churned violently under the dark sky.

"How bad is it?" you asked breathless.

"Bad." Cleo muttered fastening a cabinet shut. "Real bad."

Lightning flashed outside illuminating the room for a split second before darkness swallowed it again.

You swallowed hard gripping the basket tighter.

Something told you this night was about to get a whole lot worse.

After helping Sarah and Cleo secure everything in the kitchen, you rushed to check on John B.

"Holy shit!" you gasped as you caught sight of the monstrous waves crashing outside the window.

John B barely spared you a glance, his knuckles white as he struggled to steer the boat.

"Y/N! What are you doing here? Check on Sarah!" he shouted over the roaring wind.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay!" you called back gripping the doorway to keep yourself steady.

"Thank you now go!"

You turned trying to make your way back to the kitchen but the boat lurched violently sending you stumbling forward.

It was pitch black and the storm outside raged louder than ever. You wiped at your face as water dripped from above seeping through the cracks of the boat.

"There you are!" Pope’s voice cut through the chaos as he grabbed your arm dragging you back into the kitchen where everyone was holding onto something for dear life.

"This storm is crazy, man!" Cleo shouted bracing herself against the counter.

Something felt off. Like you were forgetting something.

You ran a shaky hand over your head to block the water from your eyes barely able to see.

"Hold on to something!" Kiara warned gripping your hands to keep you steady.

Then—

"Hey!"

A voice rang out from down the hall.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

"Y/N! Cut me loose, come on!"

Rafe!

Everyone turned to you watching as you hesitated.

"No! No!" Cleo shouted. "Do not let him out!"

Your heart pounded in your chest.

"But he’s gonna drown!" you argued pushing yourself up. Ignoring their protests

you snatched a knife from the counter and made your way toward the bathroom, gripping the walls for support as Rafe’s desperate yells grew louder.

"Y/N, come on PLEASE!"

"I'm coming!" you shouted back.

Just as you reached for the door handle the boat rocked violently throwing losing your balance. Your foot twisted the wrong way and you collapsed onto the hard floor with a sharp cry.

"Fuck!"

Pain shot through your ankle like fire but there was no time to stop.

If you didn’t get him out now or he wouldn’t make it.

With gritted teeth you pushed the door open from the ground, ignoring the throbbing pain as you crawled inside. Rafe's face twisted with concern.

"Shit are you okay?"

You didn’t answer Instead you bit down on your bottom lip to keep from screaming as you sawed through the rope. The moment his restraints fell loose, he shot up.

"Okay, come here."

Before you could protest he crouched down pulling you up and slinging your arm over his shoulder.

You limped back toward the kitchen together, the storm’s wrath shaking the boat with every step.

But the second you stepped inside, your stomach dropped.

Sarah was gone.

"Where the hell is Sarah?" Panic filled your voice as you scanned the room.

"She went to look for John B," Pope answered.

"You guys just let her go?!" Rafe snapped, his expression dark.

Then—

"JJ! No, no, no!"

John B’s voice rang out from outside, raw with terror.

Your blood ran cold.

Shoving away from Rafe, you ignored the sharp pain in your ankle and limped toward the deck your heartbeat thundering in your ears.

"Y/N, come back!" Rafe yelled after you but you didn’t stop.

The second you stepped outside freezing rain pelted your skin. Wind howled around you and the boat rocked like a toy against the monstrous waves.

John B stood at the railing gripping it so tightly his knuckles were nearly blue. His chest rose and fell in frantic uneven breaths.

"John B!" you shouted shielding your face from the storm. "Where’s Sarah? Where’s JJ?!"

He didn’t answer.

He just turned to you, eyes glassy, face pale.

Then without a word he pulled you into a desperate hug.

You stiffened confusion and dread flooding through you.

"What happened?!" Your voice cracked. "Where’s my brother?!"

Still he said nothing.

Just silent, gut-wrenching sobs.

Then—

"SARAH!"

Rafe’s voice cut through the storm like a knife.

Kiara rushed onto the deck her own scream joining his. "JJ! No, no, no!"

You stood frozen in place, unable to move, unable to breathe.

Your soaked clothes clung to your skin. Your leg ached. You were exhausted.

And now—

JJ and Sarah were gone.

#artists on tumblr #outer banks #rafe cameron #nostalgia #drew starkey x reader #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #obx x reader #obx fic #obx imagine

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alastor-simp · 1 day ago

Text

"𝓦𝓱𝓸 𝓦𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓐𝓼𝓴 𝓞𝓾𝓽 𝓞𝓷 𝓐 𝓓𝓪𝓽𝓮?"- 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓼𝓵𝓪𝓫𝔂𝓾𝓵 𝓔𝓭𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 (𝓡𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓵𝓮 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽)

⋆｡°✩ Summary: Answering Ace's Question, you say Riddle Rosehearts

⋆｡°✩ Pairings: Heartslabyul x Fem Reader, Riddle Rosehearts x Female Reader

⋆｡°✩ Genre: Fluff and Romance

⋆｡°✩ Credit: Layout by @radioexe and divider by @cafekitsune

⋆｡°✩ Prologue: Here

🍓The minute you said Riddle's name, the whole table was quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Riddle's whole face was bright pink, mouth opening and closing like a fish, stunned that you said his name. Him? You wanted to go on a date with him? Riddle had never anticipated that, as he didn't think you saw him that sort of way. He had never dated anyone in his life, focusing more on his studies and his role as dorm leader, romance and dating being the last thing on his mind. And now, here comes you, saying outright that you would date him. It had his heart fluttering like crazy.

🍓Almost everyone in the table remained silent until Cater spoke, "Wow~ So you like the dorm leader? I can totes see you too dating~" Cater smirks, admiring how red both you and the dorm leader were. Embarrassed, you covered your face with your hands, regretting what you had said, but you were being serious. After Riddle's overblot, you had gotten close to him, becoming one of his friends. What started as platonic feelings slowly began to blossom into something more, as you began to see more of the real Riddle, a kind boy, while having a temper, was an amazing individual, holding himself up with elegance and grace, treating everyone he met with respect, and showing great determination and pride with whatever he did. He was, in ever sense of the way, a prince charming, in your eyes.

🍓"HUH?!? THE DORM LEADER?!? Are you cra-" Ace's words were cut off as Deuce gave him a smack to the head, shutting him up, knowing he was close to getting himself collared. Trey was glad Deuce did that, as he walked over to you, patting your head, seeing as this was only making you more shy. Riddle, having recovered a bit from what you said, let out a cough, signaling everyone to stop with the rowdiness. "Ahem! Well, the prefect was kind enough to answer your question, Ace. May we proceed with the festivities without any more disturbances?" Everyone flinched, except you, under the harsh gaze of Riddle, letting out a "Yes, Dorm Leader," as they continued on with the tea party. Riddle's gaze then turned towards you, softening as he observed how your cheeks were still pink, eyes casted down to the ground, twiddling your fingers.

🍓The tea part had come to end, as everyone began to tidy up. Ace and Deuce waved you a goodbye, as they headed back to their dorm rooms. Trey and Cater also said their goodbyes as well, not before Trey gave you an apologetic smile and Cater snapped a selfie with you, while also whispering a sorry next to your ear, as even though he encouraged it, he felt guilty. As you waved goodbye to them, you were stopped by a quiet "Ahem" from behind you. Turning around, you saw Riddle standing behind you, arms crossed, face stern yet his eyes were kind. "Oh Riddle, sorry…um..did you need something?" You felt incredibly awkward, remembering what you had said before.

🍓"Yes. From what I recall, your answer to Ace was that you would like to…court me. Is that correct?" Riddle looked serious, but his whole stomach was getting butterflies. Blushing, you looked down, fingers twiddling again, "Umm yeah." Riddle blinked at you, as he stepped closer to you. Motioning to grab your hand, he bend down to one knee, moving closer to place a soft kiss to your hand, making you blush almost as red as his hair. Pulling away, Riddle gazed at you with a warm smile, "I, Riddle Roseheart, humbly accept your proposal for a date." You stood as still as a statue, not at all expecting that. Riddle gazed at your reaction, having stood up again, tilting his head. "Are you alright? I'm not well equipped with the rules regarding dating, so I assumed this was the proper way to respond?" Gray eyes stared at you with concern.

🍓Shaking your head, you tried to focus, "No...no..just...wasn't expecting that. Ummmmm are you okay with it? Going on a date with me? Riddle crossed his arms, "Well I accepted your proposal, did I not?" Looking away, rubbing your neck, you didn't know how to word what you were going to say next. "Well yeah you did, but I just wanted to make sure you were accepting it because you wanted to, not because of some tradition or rule that you have to follow. I don't want you to be forced into something like this." Riddles eyes had widen at your words, not glaring at you, but more surprised, yet he didn't say a word. Great now, you felt like you insulted him saying that, refusing to look at him, eyes down to the ground. Footsteps were heard, as you noticed his shadow was coming closer. "Y/N, raise your head." His words were soft, lacking the authoritative tone they always held. A hand went to your cheek, as you began to look back up.

Riddle was gazing at you with a kind smile, as his hand continued to caress your cheek, "There is certain traditions from my hometown involving courting and romance. However, I ignored them, focusing more on my studies then certain distractions. This is the first time that I wanted to explore and learn more about things like this. I'm following my own path and I want to go on a date with you because its my choice." Your stomach was full of butterflies, as you continued to stare at Riddle, who was saying all of this to you, with a tint of pink on his cheek. Riddle, realizing that he was touching your cheek for a long time, stepped back, suppressing his embarrassment with a cough. His cuteness was making you laugh, as soft giggles escaped your lips. "Haha, never knew you were such a romantic, Riddle." Riddle stuttered, face almost as red as his hair, yet he continued to watch you laugh, a small smile appearing on his face. "So, wanna go on a date now?" You spoke in a teasing tone, face appearing closer to him, making him more nervous, but he held his grown.

"R-right now? Well, there is still classes and homework assignments. Plus there are certain tasks that I must finish as dorm leader. Maybe Friday, no that's an exam, let's see then maybe." He was rambling, going back an forth between deciding a day to go while stopping remembering how that there were certain assignments to do. Laughing again, you stepped closer, patting his head, stopping his rant. "Riddle, I was kidding. I know the both of us are busy. Let's come up with a date plan during a time when we are not both busy, okay? Riddle flushed a bit, before he relaxed, giving you a smile. "Alright." The both of you conversed for a little bit, until it was time for you to head back to Ramshackle, knowing that Grim was there, waiting for you. You gave a goodbye wave to Riddle as he waved back, the both of you heading in opposite directions. As your left Heartslabyul, you couldn't contain the giddiness that you felt. You were going to go on a date with him soon, feelings of excitement and nervousness filling you up. You honestly couldn't wait, as you headed to Ramshackle with a little skip in your step.

-END-

(Once I'm down with the other dorms and characters, I will make a First Date Story tying these series together.)

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hiscrimsonembrace · 2 days ago

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hiii, not sure if you take requests or not, but i think that you just GET simon and his different personas. it's amazing. you understood the assignment! could i please request simon's reaction to reader being sexually harassed by someone? how would he react? how would he try to protect the reader?

I'm open to requests if I have the time, if they sound interesting or I get an idea in my head after reading them! I've never done this before but I love interacting with people, so ask away! <3 (not going to describe it in detail and will instead focus on his reaction, also I don't wanna dictate exactly how the reader feels since it's a very personal thing, so I'll give you some options!)

First off, whenever you and Simon decide to venture out together, you become the center of attention—that's for certain. Maybe it's his sheer size, the way he towers over you no matter your height. Maybe it's how he goes out of his way to stay concealed, always in black, cap pulled low and mask covering most of his face. Your own personal bodyguard. Or maybe it's the way he carries himself, the contrast between his imposing presence and the way he softens around you clearly too stark not to notice. But not everyone sees that side of him. To them, he's unapproachable. A walking danger sign. Not that he minds, he's used to it. Easier that way. One time he picked up your coffee order and managed to scare off the barista by telling her she got it wrong. Of course, he didn't mean to, but that poor woman must've thought a hitman had been sent after her and it was her last day on Earth. Simon doesn't even have to raise his voice, there's an unshakable authority in every word he speaks and in the way he carries himself. A man carved from stone. Both an immovable object and an unstoppable force. Second, not many people would ever dare confront him. His presence alone is enough to keep fools at bay. He knows you don't like making a scene—so he won't start one. They get the warning by witnessing him simply stand there, and they leave, too scared of being burned alive by his fiery gaze. After that, he'd want to make sure you're okay. Won't press if you brush it off, just squeezes your hand once. A simple question. You sure? If you squeeze back, Yeah, I'm sure. Still, he makes a note to check in properly later, when it's just the two of you, in the comfort of your home, where you can be as honest and vulnerable as you need to be. With him, you're safe. No one dares to look at you the wrong way. Hell, most don't even make eye contact, too afraid of whatever might be lurking under that mask. Nobody—while he's by your side. And Simon rarely leaves your side, only if necessary. A quick errand, a bathroom break. At the grocery store when you send him to help a kid grab cereal off the top shelf and you looking for the milk, or when you're out with your friends and have him fetch the drinks. It's fine, he'll bring them to you then go back to the boys, standing just far enough to give you space but close enough to keep an eye on things. But that's when it happens. He returns, drinks in hand. Sees you standing there, between your friends and some bastard who doesn't know when to quit. You learned from him, taking the role of the protector, holding your ground. But that makes you the easiest target. The guy leans in too close, lets his hand wander. A nasty comment, a brush against your shoulder, a grab at your waist, a touch— No. Simon doesn't sit this one out. Drops the drinks, makes a mess. Doesn't even think twice about it.

He's on the bastard in seconds, grabbing him by the collar and shoving him hard against the wall. Absolutely livid. Got him handled in a matter of seconds. “Walk away while you still can.” Doesn't matter if the guy puts up a fight or not, sorry fella will end up with just enough bruises to get taught a valuable lesson.

The second he's gone, Simon's focus is solely you. It's like the whole room ceases to exist. Pulls you to the side when you're visibly shaking. You can't downplay it this time, he sees right through you. He's not a man of many words, but his actions say enough (though that can only mean his words carry a heavy amount of weight when spoken). His eyes scan your face, your posture, every small tell you try to hide. It's instinct—years of training telling him to assess, analyze, act. But this isn't a battlefield, and you aren't a mission. His rough exterior, the ghost of a man he is, they all fade when he reaches for you. His touch betrays him. Warm and caring, meant to pull you back to him. "You alright, bird?" His voice is low, soothing hands trailing down your back. He doesn't rush you, doesn't let the moment pass too quickly. He lets you feel—lets you grab at him, tug on his shirt, squeeze his hand as tight as you need to. And when you do, he's already there, arms wrapped around you like armor.

A simple “Breathe, love. Nice and slow. I got you.” when you're shaking, legs giving out on you. He's a shield between you and the world, you swear you could lose yourself in those arms. “You're with me. Don't have to pretend.” when you let out a nervous laugh. He is not waiting until you get home to talk about this. Needs to know you're fine. “Hey, look at me,” he says softly when you try to avoid his gaze, “you're safe. Just focus on me, yeah?” He takes a slow, controlled breath and you follow his lead, drawing in a deep breath of your own, letting the tension start to ease. His eyes never leave your side (and that's the day his teammates see a side of their lieutenant they haven't met before).

Later—when you have a moment alone, the frustration creeps in. It shows in the way your steps land heavier. You set things down with a little too much force, your restless pacing filling the room. And Simon senses it. Drops everything he's doing and comes to you. Invites you into his embrace, slowly kneeling down and pressing his forehead against yours. “I know. You got every right to be pissed. Just don't carry it alone.” The weight of it all crashes down, every bottled-up emotion spilling as you cling to him. “That's right, doll. Just let it out.”

He's there. Always will be there. And you'll never have to face any of it on your own.

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #crim's requests 🩸#crim’s whispers

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usoppshoneydew · 21 hours ago

Text

"Affection And Focaccia"🥖🥖🥖

S: You're only stopping by Simon's bakery because you have a new recipe in mind, that's all. It's not as if there's any other reason to visit your burly Baker.

Pairing: Baker! Simon x Black!F! Reader

Tw: none/ it's fluffy

Wc: 2.9k

Notes: It's just more Baker!Simon; reader owns a general store across the street from Simon; This is proofread but there may still be mistakes🥖🥖

“Good morning Simon!” Your cheerful voice mingles with the chime above his door, and lifts his previous quiet like good yeast to a better bread dough. Simon glances up at you from the cinnamon rolls he's piping frosting onto,with a small smile hidden behind his mask.

“A little too good, if ya ask me.” He teases as you walk up to the counter, poking fun at all your energy so early in the morning. You roll your eyes and gently plop a cup of coffee by his register. A cold brew just how Simon likes it, the dark liquid and ice swishing lightly.

“Don't act as if you don't start the day even earlier than I do.” You suck your teeth and say before moving to the display case. Simon just blows an amused huff and puts down his piping bag to take a grateful sip from the cup, letting out a deep hum as thanks. You shuffle and focus on slices of carrot cake, instead of letting his voice and that hum register in your ears. You purposely avoid looking at his face once he pulls his mask down, feeling as if it'd be invading his privacy, even if he was the one to pull it down in front of you.

“Yeah, but I'm still not awake. Energy hasn't caught up to me yet.” he mumbles around his straw, insinuating that he'll be as cheery as you later today, making you both laugh. Simon lets you take your time looking for whatever confectionery you came in for this morning and takes a moment to do some looking of his own. Your shop didn't open for another hour or so, meaning you were still in your casual wear. It's nothing but a sweater and jeans but Simon still struggles to take his eyes off you. Well, even in a grocers apron and uniform to Simon you look incredible, but there's something about your comfortable clothes. It's like he gets a glimpse of what you're like outside his bakery and your general store. It makes him want to see more of it. When you look up and meet his eyes, Simon doesn't flinch, just lets you take in the honeyed way he's looking at you and glance away on your own.

“What's got you gracing me with your presence so early today?” Simon continues with ease, knowing there's heat building under your pretty, pigmented skin, even if he can't see it. You recover from catching Simon shamelessly checking you out, and manage to answer him.

“Gonna be closing the shop early today so I thought I'd buy lunch for later.” you explain and Simon puts it away in his mind that he shouldn't look forward to seeing you later like he usually does. You continue to scan his bread shelves, lip poked out slightly in concentration, and Simon watches this fondly before speaking up.

“Your usual then, miss?” He inquires while placing the freshly iced cinnamon rolls behind the display, even though it's obvious you're looking for something else today. You rub your chin and do one more once over of his stock, making Simon wonder what you could possibly be looking for today, before turning around.

“Actually I wanted some of your famous focaccia today sir.” You hum and walk back over to the register.

“But I don't see any?” you finish and look at him with questioning eyes making Simon curse in his head. It made sense that you were confused. Simon's bakery always has focaccia stocked. The flavors and varieties change but the bread itself is a pretty much constant item in his store, simply because it's simple to make while simultaneously being his best seller. It's just his luck that the first time you come in for some, is right after the men had a late night drinking and Johnny woke up this morning and ate the first thing he could find. Simon lets out an imperceptible sigh, his broad chest only rising and falling slightly.

“ It's cooling on the rack now. Got a bit of a late start on it today.” Simon explains, deciding to take the blame rather than throw his friend under the bus. Johnny's already paying for drinks next time as payment. You nod with a silent ‘oh ok’. It wasn't that big a deal, not at all, you could just get something else, but to Simon the fact that you came here this morning looking forward to something and he couldn't give it to you, was unacceptable.

“ That's fine. I'll just go with what I always get then-!” You start, your expression dropping slightly in understanding, but a drop at all was all he needed. You stop when Simon dusts his hands off on his apron and walks over to the small door in the counter. You feel your heart pick up in speed when he pulls up the short slab,opening up the lobby to the rest of the space.

“ If you've got a minute, I can cut a slice for you in the back.” He offers and steps to the side to invite you behind the counter. You falter for a moment, knowing it's not necessary to invite you into the kitchen just to cut you a piece of bread. For anyone else, he'd probably just head to the back and come out when he's done, but Simon never misses a chance to invite you behind the counter and you never miss a chance to accept. You meet his eyes for a short second, long enough to catch that honeyed gaze again, and give him a small nod.

“That sounds good, thanks Simon.” You agree with a cool smile, masking any feelings that were toeing over the border of a fun crush on a coworker. Simon gives you enough space to scoot past him and into the backroom, and settles some of the overexposed feelings in his own chest before following you.

The front of Simon's bakery is a sight in and of its own but it doesn't rival the kitchen. You're not sure how he got a hold of such a beautiful set up, but Simon’s back room has a large window that washes the space in bright sunlight, and somehow it fits the large, brooding man. You'll never forget the first time you ventured back here( after being given the ok the day before) and stumbled upon him. Face serene and content, sunlight washing over his broad frame, and music playing softly while he prepared his goods. Besides that, he has his steel island in the center, along with his rows of stainless steel ovens and racks. Then there were the homey touches like his corkboard with hastily scribbled on sticky notes and a little ghost keychain from your store. With the smell of baking bread always floating around, it created such a pleasant place to sit.

“I'll cut it in half so it cools faster.” Simon informs you while sliding past, the cologne Kyle bought him for his birthday that he didn't start wearing until recently, brushing your nose during the short second he filled your space. He walks over to the large island and it's only then that you notice the large trays of focaccia bread resting in the center, the bread puffy and golden brown.

“So, got a new recipe in mind?” Simon makes conversation, while washing his hands and replacing his gloves. You set your purse down next to the small radio playing music at a low tune. Through the fire by chaka Khan, a choice that would surprise you if you hadn't already heard him listening to 70s music in the past.

“ Yeah! I saw this sandwich idea on TikTik, that I wanted to try out. I bought the meat from Johnny's place a while ago and want to use it soon. Can't let it go bad.” you explain as you make yourself comfortable on the tall wooden stool by the radio. Well, as comfortable as you can on a stool. Simon pauses for such a short moment that if you weren't already trying not to look at the way his shirt sleeves stretched around his biceps, you would've missed it.

“Ah, alright.” Simon responds shortly, understanding everything but one obvious detail in what you'd just said, and you notice. Simon doesn't even have to look up from where he's using a bread knife to slice a part of the focaccia in half, letting more heat escape. He knows your wide eyes are watching him and the corners of your lips are quirking up into a suspicious smile. You both sit in silence for a millisecondonger before you open your mouth.

“Do you know what TikTik is-?” You start and can hardly get the words out before Simon lets out an irritated groan. You burst out laughing, leaning back on the stool, and Simon just shakes his head, fighting off his own smile.

“Oy, I've heard of it alright? Just haven't got around to downloading it.” he defends himself and if you didn't know any better you'd swear you can hear a bit of a pout in his voice. You let your giggles taper off as Simon just shakes his head again, this time with an air of fondness because he can't help soften like butter when you laugh.

“Kyle and Johnny are always talking about that damn app. So what? They've got recipes on there too?” Simon inquires further, before looking for something extra that he could send you off with. Johnny only ever showed him things that left him with less brain cells than he had before he watched them, and Kyle tended to send him things he didn't entirely understand. You spread your legs a tiny bit and rest both your hands on the chair between them.

“ Mmh hmm! People can post anything. Art, recipes, book recommendations, baking.” You add with emphasis and do a small gesture towards what looked like a tray of buns that Simon had pulled out sometime during this conversation. He hums thoughtfully while pulling a plump piping bag full of custard out of his industrial refrigerator. Simon's told you before that custard separated in the fridge when it's not cooked right, and judging by the way the bag is full to the brim with fluffy pastry cream, that's not something he has to worry about.

“Baking hm? Maybe I should download it then.” he mumbles in response before picking up a bread bun and stuffing custard inside. If it'll give him something else to talk to you about, a reason to interact outside of the few hours he sees you during work, Simon was game. You could send him anything you found funny or endearing and he'd welcome it. He glances up at you, noticing you hadn't responded to him and startles when he sees your face scrunched up in, what he guessed is disgust.

“Nah don't bother. There's some nice things about it, but it's really just a time waster.” you respond with a shake of your head. An image of Simon turning into one of those guys that make thirst traps with food, makes a visible shudder run up your spine. No matter how fine he looks in an apron, nothing would make up for the level of cringe guys like that create. Besides, something about the thought of Simon wasting his time away on his phone like the rest of you mere mortals, made you disgruntled. Something desolate shades over Simon's eyes then, immediately making you regret shutting down his idea.

“Could use something like that. Can't find enough things to do these days.” He murmurs deeply and you pause. That made sense. Simon has told you before that he served in the military. He never elaborated on what he did or what rank he got to be, but how protective he was of the information made you feel it was probably something important. He's retired now, but you don't have to be a rocket scientist to know that serving in the military likely leaves you with things you'd rather not have enough time to dwell on. You bite at your fingers, hating the tide this conversation had turned, and blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“ If you need to waste time just hang out with me. You know I'm never doing much.” you suggest casually and Simon glances up at you in surprise. You hold his gaze and nod with a small shrug. It had been said in hopes of lightening the mood, but you meant what you'd said.

Aside from the time you spend with friends and family every now and then, you spend most of your time either in your flat or your store. That or in Simon's bakery of course. You're the kind of person that likes company. You don't have to speak with one another or fill the space. You just like to be in the presence of people you care about while doing your own thing. There was something about just knowing they're there that made you feel content. The thought of Simon relaxing in your living room with a book while you paint in the corner by your window, the night air keeping you cool, flashes in your mind, and the image alone makes your heartbeat a little faster. You meet Simon's eyes and he feels his face heat up behind his mask, but he surprises you by shaking his head.

“That wouldn't work.” He responds to you quietly and your heart drops. It looks like you were wrong to think that your company would be something he'd want outside of work, or that you could ease some of the thoughts clouding his mind. You rush to apologize when Simon walks up to you and places your bagged bread and cream bun in your lap. Your breath catches in your throat at his close proximity, his chest right in your face, but Simon looks down at you unaffected.

“If it's with you then it wouldn't be a waste, now would it?” He says softly while squatting down to your level. You're stunned silent as he brushes one of his fingers over your combed baby hairs. Oh. That was a good argument. You gaze at one another for a moment longer before you nod again and roll your eyes a little.

“Well, if you need some way to spend your time, you can spend it with me.” you reply quietly and run your thumb along the seam of his mask. You look into his eyes for permission and your heart jumps when he nods lightly. You breath softly, and right as you're about to tug his mask down, the loud chime of the bakery door rings into the room. Both you and Simon glance at the kitchen door as familiar voices fill the front of the shop.

“Dammit, completely forgot we were open.” Simon grunts before standing up, his broad body filling your vision for a second. You try not to feel too flattered that he was so invested in your conversation, he'd momentarily forgotten about his store. That wasn't necessarily a good thing after all, but it doesn't stop the butterflies you feel. While Simon pokes out his head to tell who you're sure is the town's elderly mothers, that he'll be out in a minute, you grab your purse and bag of pastries. You gently tap his back while sliding past him to get through the door, and Simon looks away from the chattering ladies to glance at you.

“Here Simon,let me pay you for the bread real quick, then I'll get out of your hair.” You whisper before grabbing a few bills. You try to hand them to him but Simon just wraps his large palm around yours. You meet his deep brown eyes as he presses the money back towards you, stepping closer and blocking you from sight of his customers.

“ It's on the house. Just save me a drink later, yeah?” he suggests instead, referencing the strawberry milk he always buys from your store, and what was a laugh turns into a small gasp when Simon leans into your space again.

“I'll take you up on that offer from before though.” he whispers against your temple with a hand at the small of your back, before leaving to handle the line of elderly women, who have gone suspiciously silent while waiting for their daily bread and gossip. His cologne is barely leaving your senses when you suddenly remember to breathe. You clear your throat quietly, never more grateful that the heat behind your cheeks isn't visible to the many, watching eyes behind the counter. It doesn't matter though because they'd seen everything they needed to.

“Excuse me ladies! I'll be seeing you later.” You excuse yourself politely before making your way to your own business, knowing that the ladies would be swarming your general store for answers later. Simon watches you leave with a small smile, looking forward to the interactions to come, until he hears someone clear their throat. Simon looks up to see a number of eyes looking back at him expectantly.

“Ahem, is there something you want to tell us Simon? Starting with a ‘you’ and ending with a ‘were right’?” Mrs. Thomas asks with an arched eyebrow, the other woman behind her wearing matching expressions. Simon takes a deep breath to prepare himself. He has his work cut out for him now.

A/n: I thought up some random dialogue for Baker!Simon and forced myself to write an entire fic around it. It was giving me way more stress than necessary, so I decided to stop nitpicking and just finish it. It's not perfect, I'm not crazy about it, but it's not bad either. Thanks for reading!🥖🥖🥖

🥖Taggies: @cookieswithay

#cod fluff #cod fic #cod fics #call of duty fluff #call of duty #cod x black reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #141 x black reader #141 x reader #simon ghost riley x black reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x black reader #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #x black reader

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