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mmywanda · 2 months ago

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Dandelion — W.M

chapter one of Forbidden Pleasure

—

Pairing: CEO!WandaMaximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: When you decided to join your family's business, you had no idea the ceo of the rival company would be so.. alluring. men & minors dni!

Warnings: None.. yet ;)

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: My first series! I promise it’s going to get more exciting soon, this was just setting things up.

Beta read by @poulengp <3

—

You'd never been into business. Despite your family being famous for their own very successful company, Nexus. No, you preferred working in that little library, where it was quiet, and the most stressful it got was when someone returned their books too late. Why would you want to be involved in a business full of money hungry people who think of nothing but financial success?

So that was precisely what you told your father when he called you up one Saturday morning, trying to persuade you into following in the footsteps of the majority of your family. And what didn't help your case was the fact you'd be laid off from your job, as there wasn't enough funding in the library to keep all four employees.

"I don't want to be a part of it, dad, I've told you this so many times." You spoke between chews, the crunch of your slightly burnt toast echoing through the call.

"You're twenty two, (Y/N), it's time you step up and join us. You could be valuable to the team."

You rolled your eyes, "And what value would that be?" Both of you knew that you'd passed through college with barely average results, and was lucky to have found a decently paying job that didn't require better grades.

"You're good with people, we need that."

Glancing over at the small stack of bills across you on the kitchen table, you sighed. "I don't want it to change me." What if you turned into an emotionless robot? And had to work behind a desk everyday? And that desk may be on the twenty fourth level of a glass tower building?

"You won't change, I know you."

Doubt swirled around in your mind, eyes scanning the small apartment you lived in. You would have to find a job soon, though it would be difficult given your low qualifications and lack of experience. Here you were, being offered a job that would most likely be well paying.

"Fine. I'll do it."

—

The first matter of business was shopping. Your wardrobe consisted of cardigans, faded jeans, a skirt you refused to ever wear again and a few shirts that looked very outdated compared to the modern city you lived in.

Walking into a clothing store that wasn't your typical go-to was scary. You'd chosen a different one so you could find more professional outfits— because you'd probably be kicked out of the office if you were to walk in wearing your usual attire.

"May I offer you some assistance?" A woman appeared in front of you almost two seconds after you'd stepped through the automatic doors. Her eyes scanned you, as it was obvious this was your first time in that store.

You smiled, shaking your head, "No, it's okay thank you. I'm just browsing." When she left with a nod, you walked to the pants section, looking at the wide selection of styles, material and colours. You didn't even know where to begin. Eventually you decided that darker shades like grey, black or navy would be appropriate. Picking a few out, you folded them over your arm, ready for the dressing room later.

Next was shirts, that just like the pants, had a very large selection, perhaps even more. A sigh left your lips.

Twenty minutes later you'd accumulated clothing items and two pairs of shoes. It was a bit of a struggle to get to the dressing rooms, and once inside a cubicle, you dropped the pile onto the stool. Another sigh left your lips. Is this what business people went through every year? Well, probably every month, based on what you knew of business people. Granted, your only knowledge of business style was from The Office, and it wasn't like that show was renowned for its fashion sense.

Trying on a few outfits, matching different things, you decided on what you would purchase. Making your way to the cashiers, you avoided the gaze of the store assistant.

"That will be three hundred and eleven dollars, fifty cents." The cashier's bright smile almost smoothed over your shock, but not quite. Three hundred and eleven dollars?!

As much as you wanted to apologise and leave to find a store that had cheaper prices, you wouldn't be able to handle the judgemental stare of that woman. So, you got your card out and pressed it against the card reader. When it let out a double beep, indicating it hadn't been approved, you tried again, to which the cashier said, "You have to put your card in. The contactless limit is two hundred."

Your face flushed. If it wasn't obvious that you hadn't spent this much money before, it was now.

That evening, you laid on your couch, staring at the cracks in your ceiling, instant ramen in a bowl, cooling down from its boiling temperature. You thought about what would happen tomorrow, your first day in the office. Well, you knew you wouldn't have a desk job exactly, you'd be more like an assistant to any of the managers or executives— whatever that meant.

Trying to shake your mind of all the worries, you ate your ramen, despite it burning your tongue. At least it was a distraction from the overthinking anyway.

—

You woke up with a start, phone alarm blaring. Your first instinct was to sit up, but an ache in your neck forced you to pause. It seemed you'd fallen asleep on the couch, head having been in an awkward position all night. You thanked the you from yesterday who set the alarm in preparation and had placed the phone beside you.

It didn't take long to put your chosen outfit on, but what did take long was pleasing the perfectionist in you. You stood in front of the mirror for a while, adjusting your hair this way and that, fiddling with the simple silver necklace you were wearing.

"It's no big deal, (Y/N), you're not going to meet anyone important on your first day."

That's what you kept telling yourself during your journey to the office building. It took a train and a four minute walk until you reached your destination. Walking into the lobby, you were struck by how sharp, clean and unnecessarily big it was. Pale marble flooring, bright white walls, even brighter ceiling lights despite it being a sunny day outside. And the very large 'NEXUS' logo on the far wall. Your shoes squeaked against the marble, and you wondered what sort of material the soles were made out of. Perhaps the marble was made to mock people with shoes worth less than a thousand dollars.

"How may I help you?" The receptionist asked as you approached him. You smiled, masking your nerves.

"I'm (Y/N), I'm meant to be starting my job today."

He nodded quickly, suddenly sitting up straighter, you assumed because he believed he would get in trouble if he wasn't the most professional he could be in front of his boss's daughter. You then noticed his name badge that read 'Evan'.

Evan picked up the reception phone, tapping a few numbers before speaking, telling someone that you had arrived. The conversation was short.

"Take the elevator to the ninth floor, first door on the right." He pointed you in the right direction. You gave him your thanks and then found yourself inside the small metal box also known as an elevator. You hated them, though you guessed it would have to become part of your routine now.

Once arriving on the ninth floor, you examined the decor— plain walls with an occasional framed art piece (the kind that looked like a toddler had painted that would sell for millions).

Hearing distant voices coming from various closed doors, you decided dallying wouldn't make the start of shift any easier. You found the first door on the right, knocking lightly until you heard a familiar voice call out— "Come in." So you did.

The office was spacious, a desk in the middle, and seating behind it was your father. He gave you a warm smile, standing up with an outstretched hand. You mentally sighed at his usual strange way of greeting family members. You shook his hand before taking a seat in front of him.

"It's good to see you here, when was the last time you visited?" He prompted, clicking his silver pen against the table.

"A few years ago, the Christmas party."

You remembered it begrudgingly. The night you fell onto a table that happened to be seating several ice filled buckets for the champagne. Let's just say it was an extremely humiliating memory that always made you shiver. The chill of the ice had never quite escaped you.

Your father chuckled, nodding as he recalled the same night. "Ah, yes. How could I forget." You rolled your eyes, refusing to smile until he changed the subject. "Anyway, let's talk business."

He pulled out a new planner journal, handing it to you. Flicking through it, you noticed a lot of dates neatly jotted in. You gave him a questioning look.

"My assistant kindly added important dates and meetings."

Your eyes widened slightly, "I'm going to join meetings?" That was something you hadn't expected.

"As a note taker, for now." His expression showed how keen he was for you to progress in your role and reach a high position in the company on your own. He wasn't going to get you a higher job just because you were his kid.

Scanning the dates written down for the current week, you saw there was a meeting scheduled for today. Anxiety immediately bubbled inside you at the thought of being in such a professional setting with equally professional people, as an inexperienced ex-librarian.

"Don't worry, (Y/N). It's not a huge deal." He hesitated, before correcting himself. "Okay, it is a big deal."

You groaned, leaning back in the chair that you had to admit was very uncomfortable. "What is it about? Stock shares or something?" It was very obvious that you pulled the term out of your very limited knowledge on business that lived in the back of your brain, because your father's eyebrows creased in amusement.

"It's our annual meeting with Maximoff Industries. And let's just say our companies have difficulty clicking."

The name 'Maximoff Industries' was familiar. You knew that they created things in the technology area, and as it so happened, Nexus did too, so it was no wonder they didn't 'click'.

"How do they normally go?" You had to gauge how terrible the experience would be for you. Scenarios ran through your mind, the most rational being; raised tones, interrupted sentences, perhaps even a few cold glares (gasp).

"We have a small partnership in a few products, so the disagreements normally stem from financial shares, and what name is listed first under the annual report. It normally ends in a handshake though." He attempted a smile, but it was clear that he had a very strong distaste for Maximoff Industries. "It doesn't help that their CEO, Wanda Maximoff is a.. difficult person to get along with in terms of business."

"Why?" You asked, wanting to know what to expect in the meeting, even if you were going to be sitting in the corner.

Your father sighed, leaning back in his chair. "She's.." He thought for a long hard moment. "She has this look, like she knows more than you, like she's superior. And she very obviously craves control over every situation without explicitly expressing it. It's infuriating, but hard to explain."

It didn't seem like much to go on; having a certain expression and craving control. Wasn't that a description of half of the earth's population?

Your father checked his watch, "It's going to start in twenty minutes." You internally panicked, because you hadn't expected things to start so soon. He smiled kindly, leaning forward in his chair a bit.

"It's okay, (Y/N), you're not going to be talking." That didn't exactly reassure you, because it meant you would have to maintain a calm act in case anyone looked your way.

"Alright, let's do this." Faking positivity was the first step, right?

—

The meeting room was empty when you and other representatives from Nexus walked in, including your father. They all took their seats, presumably their allocated ones. There was a chair set aside from the very long table, which you guessed was for you. Sliding it backwards a bit, you sat, spending a very awkward minute trying to decide how to position your legs. Should you cross them or not? Before you could come to a decision, you heard people entering the room.

You looked up, counting five very professional looking businesspeople. Thinking that was all, you opened your notebook, until you sensed one last presence. Glancing across the room, a woman entered.

She was dressed in a black suit, white shirt and heels. Hair brunette with lighter streaks, eyes a deep shade of green. But the overriding feature of this woman was her aura. Everyone in the room fell silent, most of the Nexus members seemed to have a polite but forced smile.

"Ms Maximoff, it's good to see you." Your father announced, making a small gesture with his hand to indicate for the woman to sit at the opposite end of the table— although she'd already done so.

"Yes, it's a pleasure, Julian." Wanda Maximoff replied, her tone smooth, with an underlying accent you hadn't heard before. It was very alluring all the same. You noticed she'd addressed your father by his first name.

"How have you been? I heard y—" Your father began, until he was cut off.

"Let's just get to business, shall we?" Wanda's hands rested on top of the table, revealing her many intricate and no doubt expensive silver rings.

"Oh, yes." Julian cleared his throat, gesturing to his coworker, a manager to start the presentation. You tried your best to quickly note down the points the manager was making, including comments from the other company.

But you felt your attention slipping, because from your angle, Wanda Maximoff was just to the left of the presentation screen. You were inexplicably drawn to her, the way she held herself, and not to mention her immense beauty.

You were suddenly startled when the face you were staring at turned, green eyes locking with yours. All oxygen left your lungs, not from panic of being caught staring during a professional meeting, but because Wanda Maximoff was piercing. Though her head tilted back to the presentation. Finally you were able to breathe, fingers gripping the notebook edges.

"So what's the point of decreasing the amount of products manufactured if it's in high demand?" Wanda questioned, leaning back in her seat slightly, directing the question towards your father instead of the manager.

He paused, thinking through his answer before replying. "Retailers are going to be bidding higher prices in order to stock it."

Wanda Maximoff's eyebrows quirked, a slight upturn of her lips now revealing to you what your father had described earlier; The Look. It indeed felt like she was in control, as if she was negotiating a deal with a child.

"Why don't we ask someone else's opinion?" Wanda's eyes snapped to you. Horror rushed through you as everyone followed Wanda's directed stare. All eyes were on you.

You felt your face heat up, having absolutely no idea what to say or do other than look towards your father helplessly. He nodded his head, as if urging me to speak so they could move on quickly.

"Uh—" Words were failing you. Wanda's expression shifted from expectancy to amusement. She was enjoying your embarrassment, it seemed. "I think it could work.. people tend to want to buy things that are exclusive." You didn't have anything to base that opinion on, but you hoped it sounded more certain than it did in your head.

Wanda's stare remained on you for a few agonising seconds before nodding once, accepting your answer. "Let's take ten, my team need to discuss this." Everyone nodded quickly in agreement. The Nexus members waited for the others to leave the room, but they didn't. Your father let out a very quiet but infuriated sigh at Wanda's blank though slightly smug expression . He stood, muttering to everyone to leave with him, including you. You'd never exited a room so quickly.

Once you were a few metres down the corridor, you exhaled, leaning against the wall, the conversation between your company distant to your ears. You were busy calming down from the humiliation. You hadn't felt this way since falling into a table with ice buckets in this very building.

Why had Wanda singled you out? Surely she knew how uncomfortable that would be for someone who was clearly new.

You needed water. Luckily you knew of the staff lounge that had a supply of refreshments.

The 'lounge' was thankfully empty, consisting of several pristine couches and counter with a kettle and an array of coffees and teas. You headed towards the water cooler. Grabbing a small paper cup, you flicked on the switch for the water to start filling the cup slowly. It was when it reached the halfway mark that you were startled by a voice.

"It's an interesting opinion that you have."

You spun around, facing Wanda Maximoff. It was hard to breathe again.

"Do you know a lot about consumer behaviour?" She asked, emerald eyes fixed on yours. The question stunned you for a moment, not entirely understanding. But you'd done enough reading to be able to guess what her words meant.

"Not really, I just notice what people around me seem to buy." Good, you're doing good— you told yourself.

"You don't do the buying?" She asked, head slightly tilted to the side.

You let out a nervous chuckle, shaking your head. "Oh, no. I'm the type to keep something until it's completely incapable of doing its job." For example; your toaster.

Wanda's lips twitched into a smile that almost felt like a smirk. "That's an unfortunate attitude to have when you're working in this industry." You swallowed, throat feeling very dry as you still hadn't had that water yet. Wanda seemed to finally notice the cup in your hand.

"Drink."

The simple word felt like a command, and you found yourself raising your cup without hesitation and taking a gulp of water. It felt like a relief to your dry throat. The woman's smile was now definitely a smirk, though what she was smirking at, you didn't know.

"I haven't seen you around here before. When did you start?" The question was a simple one, but the way Wanda delivered it made it seem a lot more important, like she actually interested.

You were just glad it was an easy one to answer. "Today, actually."

She nodded slowly, "You're Julian's daughter?"

"Yeah, he's wanted me here for a while, and I needed a job." You had to tell yourself to just chill out, because you were starting to overthink your answers, despite there being no need to.

Wanda reached a hand out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, inadvertently directing your attention to her hands. The silver rings shaped her fingers perfectly, the dark red varnish on her nails standing out as they brushed against her hair. You swallowed, forcing yourself to look away.

"Those plants look half dead."

Your eyebrows raised at her very random statement. Since when did plants become a part of the conversation? You went along with it, noticing the few potted plants and vases with flowers that did look very wilted.

"Do you know the name of that one?" Wanda pointed to a specific plant, green leaves and yellow flowers. You knew nothing about plants.

"Tulip?" It was more of a question than an answer. Wanda let out a chuckle at your painfully wrong answer. She shook her head in amusement.

"Dandelion." She stated, suddenly studying you with some type of curiosity and intrigue. "You remind me of a dandelion."

Your expression was quizzical, wondering why a yellow flower could be associated to you in any kind of way. "Why?"

Wanda smiled mysteriously, carefully leaving the question unanswered as she checked her watch. You could tell by the watch strap alone that it was probably worth more than your student debt. "The break is over." And with that, she began walking away, her heels clicking against the floor. You were stunned for a few seconds before snapping out of it. Realising that the cup was still in your hand, you threw it away, walking as quickly as you could back to the meeting room without embarrassing yourself.

Everyone was in the room by the time you'd survived the walk back. You kept your eyes down and sat in your corner (of shame). The conversations started again, and you tried your best, yet again, to make notes. It was a bit easier to concentrate as Wanda hadn't done any talking yet.

It was boring, really, listening to your father and Maximoff Industries' representatives disagree on very simple things like the font for whatever the damn products they wanted to sell.

Finally, Wanda spoke up after listening to the conversation she appeared to have found just as boring as you had. "Let's do it. Less products for higher sales, as ridiculous as it sounds. Though, something would have to be put in place.”

You glanced up from your notebook, pen hovering above the page. Even Wanda’s own coworkers seemed confused.

“I will have regular meetings with a representative from Nexus, just so I can keep up to date with your side of this new decision.”

You could practically see the cogs in your father’s brain whirring, as he probably didn’t know now if this new idea would be a mistake. He cleared his throat. “Okay, I’ll look at my schedu—“

“It will be (Y/N).” Wanda stated clearly. Once again, you found all attention on you. You were just as bewildered as the other surprised faces.

“Me?” You uttered, cheeks flushed at the idea of Wanda Maximoff wanting to meet you again.

A smile twitched on your lips as she studied you from across the room. You felt the presences around you fade away when your eyes locked with green ones. She spoke in a slow but deliberate way, “You will accept, won’t you?”

Without thinking twice, you simply replied, “Yes.”

—

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vanteguccir · 11 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤVOGUE BEAUTY * CHRIS STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where the world-famous actress and model, Y/N, is invited by Vogue to record a video of her Beauty Secrets, but during the recording, Chris, her boyfriend, decides to make a brief appearance.

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x famous!reader　REQUESTED?　no.

WARNINGS　::　none.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

The golden sun peeked through the silk curtains, illuminating Y/N's spacious marble bathroom. She was at home in her luxurious suite, ready to share her beauty secrets with the world.

A few days ago, Y/N was busy organizing her appointments when an email with the iconic Vogue logo caught her attention. With a mix of curiosity and anticipation, she opened the message to discover that Vogue was interested in featuring her in its exclusive beauty video series, Vogue Beauty Secrets.

The news filled her with excitement and pride. As one of the most in-demand models of the moment, walking on runways for renowned brands like Gucci and being a regular in the pages of Vogue itself, Y/N was already a familiar presence in the fashion industry. However, the invitation to share her beauty secrets with the Vogue audience represented an exciting opportunity to connect on an even deeper level with her fans and followers.

As Y/N prepared to start recording the video, she could hear the distant sound of laughter and the distinctive hum of video games coming from the next room. Her boyfriend, Chris, was immersed in one of his thousands of games, completely absorbed by the virtual world.

With a captivating smile, the girl waves to the camera with her left hand, starting the recording. Her long hair falls like a silken waterfall as she approaches the dressing table adorned with high-quality beauty products.

"Hi, guys! It's Y/N here." She greets enthusiastically, her smile stretching across her face as her right hand lifts slightly, showing the white mug full of fresh brewed coffee. "And I'm back on my favorite channel. Today is a very special day because I'm sharing my beauty secrets with you!"

With grace and elegance, Y/N begins her skincare routine, explaining each step in meticulous detail. She gently applies a gentle cleanser, massaging it into her skin in circular motions while commenting on the latest happenings in the fashion world.

"You know, being on the cover of Vogue for the fifth time is an honor." She shares casually. "But it's also a reminder of how much hard work and dedication it takes to get there. I remember when I was just a 10-year-old kid walking down the hallway at home in my mom's heels."

While applying a refreshing toner, Y/N describes how she likes to take care of her skin to keep it radiant and flawless, even under the relentless camera spotlight.

"It's all about consistency and finding what works for you." The girl advises gently, looking directly into the camera with confidence. "And never underestimate the power of drinking lots of water and getting enough sleep!"

With one fluid movement, Y/N moves on to the next step: makeup. She carefully selects her favorite products, explaining the reasoning behind each choice as she applies them with masterful skill.

"My makeup philosophy is simple: enhance natural beauty." She explains, delicately tracing her eyebrows with a pencil in the tone of her natural hair. "It’s all about enhancing, not transforming."

Y/N lowered her head slightly, her right hand hovering over her laid out products before her index finger and thumb fished out her Dior blush.

"This one is Dior Backstage Rosy Glow Blush. It's super beautiful and gives you, like, baby pink glow. I'm literally obsessed!" The girl opens the small packaging, momentarily showing the pink powder to the lens before applying it delicately to the apples of her cheeks with a white brush. "I used to use really heavy blush when I was in school." Y/N confesses, laughing. "My face looked like a paint palette! Chris said it also looked like I had sunbathed for hours without sunscreen. But over time, I learned the art of subtlety."

As she continued to expertly apply her makeup, focusing on the smooth strokes and precise touches, a noise at the bathroom door broke her focus. With a surprised sigh, she saw through the mirror her boyfriend entered the spacious room with a frustrated expression on his face.

"Fucking hell!" He grumbled under his breath, muttering curses as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh softly at the sight of him, knowing he was dealing with another loss in his game against Nick and Matt.

"Having some trouble, babe?" She asked playfully, turning her face slightly towards him and giving him an amused look as she continued to apply her makeup.

Chris let out a heavy sigh and walked with quick steps toward her, looking over Y/N's shoulder to see what she was doing. His eyes widened in surprise as he noticed the strategically placed recording camera before turning towards his girl with raised eyebrows.

"Wow, wait!" The boy exclaimed, excitement clear in his voice. "Are you recording a video?"

Y/N nodded, smiling as she explained about Vogue's invitation and the opportunity to share her beauty secrets with the world, her hands gently closing the packaging of the blush before putting it away in its original place.

Chris watched with admiration her animated features as she talked and her hands moving her favorite products - which he had already memorized, him himself buying many of them for her everytime he passed by Sephora -, his eyes shining with pride.

"That's so cool, baby!" He exclaimed, smiling big and wrapping an arm around her waist, moving so that he was more centered inside the lens's frame and clinging to his girl. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"If your intention is to make me blush, it will be impossible under those layers of blush." Y/N intervened, raising her right hand with her palm facing him, rolling her eyes playfully in an attempt to feign annoyance, but the minimal smile on her face said otherwise. "Do you want to stay here? With me."

"Can I?" Chris widened his eyes comically, turning abruptly to her, feeling elated.

"Of course you can, honey!" Y/N couldn't help but laugh at Chris's excitement, nodding with a smile. "Welcome to my world of beauty." She opened her arms in an exaggerated gesture of welcome, receiving a nasal laugh in response.

As she resumed her makeup, explaining the next steps in detail, Chris watched with interest, asking questions and showing genuine interest in the entire process, a childish and euphoric aura surrounding his body.

As Y/N picked up her favorite mascara and began to explain in detail about the brand and its incredible formula that provided volume and length without clumping, Chris's eyes traveled between the product - which he already knew very well - and her concentrated expression. He could see the passion in his girlfriend's eyes as she talked about her beauty rites, and this only increased his admiration for her, an involuntary smile resting on his face.

Then, when Y/N was about to apply the mascara, the boy gently stepped forward, extending his hands, stopping her movements. The girl raised her eyes to him, a confused expression hovering over them before noticing what he wanted to do after watching Chris take the product from her hands.

That wasn't unusual between them; Over the three years of their relationship, Chris had become skilled at some specific makeup steps, helping his girlfriend on several occasions.

"Can I?" He asked softly, holding the mascara in her eyes level.

Y/N smiled, feeling grateful for her boyfriend's affectionate gesture, throwing a wink in the direction of the camera before turning her body slightly to the side, so that her face was still visible to the lens and that Chris could see her completely.

"Please, go ahead, baby." She finally replied, her eyes shining with tenderness as she watched Chris move closer, wanting to put himself in an easy position for both of them, without running the risk of smudging his work.

With skill and care, Chris began to apply the mascara to Y/N's long, naturally curled lashes, following the precise movements he had observed she doing so many times. He furrowed his eyebrows in a serious expression, determined to do an impeccable job, his tongue lolling out of his lips in concentration.

"Chris and I have an interesting ritual. For as long as I can remember, I've always been very careful about the way I look, and that didn't change after I started dating Chris, and much less when we started actively going to each other's houses." Y/N explained softly, without moving her lips too much with the intention of not making him smudge his work. "And Chris, being the adorably clingy boyfriend that he is, would spend hours in the bathroom with me while I was trying out new makeup or getting ready to go out. He would just sit on the closed toilet seat and watch me for minutes on end."

"How could I not look at a work of art as perfect as you?" The boy interrupted her, shooting off his sentence before an involuntary smirk appeared on his lips, feeling the skin of her right cheek burn against his own hand.

"And then, one day, he asked to do my makeup, but before I explained the function of each product." Y/N quickly resumed her train of thought, ignoring her boyfriend's flirting. "And over time, every time we go out together, he asks to help me, or just to watch me doing my skin routine."

"Sharing these intimate moments with you is the best part of my daily routine." The brunette said softly, his tone low with the intention of only his girlfriend hearing, his eyes meeting hers tenderly.

Y/N quickly pressed her lips into a thin line, feeling her neck and cheeks burn even more in shyness, her right hand moving up his body, caressing his covered hip lightly with her fingers in ghost touches.

When he was finished, Chris stood back with a triumphant smile, admiring his work with pride. Y/N turned around, facing the camera and the mirror completely, observing her own reflection for a few seconds, impressed with the result. Her lashes were perfectly defined and voluminous, exactly how she liked them.

"Wow, you're getting better at this!" Y/N exclaimed, approaching her face to the camera slightly, blinking repeatedly, wanting the lens to capture her boyfriend's perfect work. "Thank you, my love."

Chris smiled excitedly, happy to have made Y/N feel even more pretty, his hands returning to their previous place on her waist.

"Vogue, please, get Chris to do the next episode of Vogue Beauty Secrets."

extra - comments:

"petition for Chris and Y/N to start posting makeup videos together ✏️📄"

"I never thought I would see Chris knowing about makeup, much less doing someone's makeup 😭"

"this is the cutest thing I've ever seen in my entire life 😔✋🏻"

"I need a boyfriend like Chris, who does my makeup every day 🙏🏻"

"Chris is the true meaning of acts of service 🥺"

"couple goals fr 🤞🏻"

"Chris is to blame for my standard being so high 😫"

"get someone that looks at you like Chris looks at Y/N while she puts on makeup 🤭"

“okay, but can we talk about Y/N’s flawless skin? I'm jealous 😫”

"Y/N's makeup >>>>>"

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dovveri · 6 months ago

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high fashion fashion

synopsis: you’re meeting with the top fashion designer in the country to get your measurements taken for haute couture: an exclusive, annual fashion magazine you had the luck to be chosen for

warnings: reader receiving, cunnilingus, fingering, strap-ons, swearing

w/c: 4.4k

a/n: momo part 2 here!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"miss minatozaki! the model is here to see you as requested!"

you shuffle around a little awkwardly as you stand behind the agent that had led you to the infamous fashion designer's lair. you were still a new name in the modelling industry so it came as a surprise when you booked one of the biggest fashion magazines in the country. naturally, that meant working with the best of the best, and minatozaki sana was the best of the best.

"come in!" a voice drifts out, it's high-pitched and honeyed, the kind of voice that lures people in and gets them to do whatever the speaker asks of them. you were cautious though, sana's reputation preceded her. tales of her perfectionism were not sparse, she was a difficult woman to please, and had been known to ruin careers with the shake of a head or the slight frown in her eyebrows.

the agent rushes you in, whispering about making sure you did whatever sana wanted you to do, and then taking their leave just as quick, terrified to be in the same room as the fashion designer of the century.

you wring your hands nervously, stepping forward and taking in your surroundings. it wasn't unlike any other studio you've been in. messy fabrics and half-completed outfits strewn over pages of designs and measurements, mannequins standing half-dressed and lifeless, and in the centre of it all, the mastermind of the methodical chaos you stood in, was minatozaki sana herself.

she tuts, making a note on the design she was currently working on, not having acknowledged your presence yet, so you stand there awkwardly, waiting for her to instruct you.

your eyes can't help but trace over her features while she works. it was only natural, you were a model, you learnt to have a sharp eye for the physical body, to be critical of yourself and others whether you were on the clock or not.

her face was perfect. she was wearing specs that perched neatly on a nose other models would pay for. her lips, although currently downturned in a frown as she perused her work, were set in a natural pout that accentuated her features, her eyes sharp and calculating behind the soft, round frame of her glasses. you could mistake her for the model for a big-brand eyewear company. your eyes glide down to her shoulder where her top slid down revealing pearly soft skin, and a sharp 90 degree angle, her collarbones protruding and proud. you're almost in disbelief at her beauty, how someone like her could've slipped under your radar, under everyone's radar. people knew her for the beauty she created, not the beauty she possessed.

you're so caught up in her you don't notice she's finally taken notice of you; quick, assertive eyes running over your own body, calculations and images of clothing pieces already forming in her head.

"y/n right?"

your eyes flick up to hers, blushing slightly at having been caught. you clear your throat, nodding, not trusting your voice to speak.

she puts down her pencil and steps out from the desk she was working behind, taking slow steps towards you. you were used to this, people staring at you, studying you. but under sana's gaze you felt like a baby deer again, like the first time you were scouted for your modelling agency. she circles you, humming here and there as she takes you in.

"i can see why mina chose you."

you cough awkwardly, "excuse me?"

"the editor. she handpicks the models for the annual haute couture magazine every year."

your eyes widen, she meant myoui mina. chief editor of the haute couture magazine. a limited fashion piece that only came out once a year and was revered by critics all across the country. the one you had the opportune luck to be selected for.

"r-right."

sana scoffs, "pretty face but can't speak. lucky you didn't go into acting."

you're a little taken aback at that, but you remind yourself this was characteristic of sana. this was in line with what you had heard. you would just have to grit your teeth and bear it, you could not afford to lose this opportunity.

"hmm. yes you'll do." she walks back to her work counter, heels clicking as she waves a hand dismissively.

"strip. everything. i'll take your measurements now and we can both get back to work."

you stutter, following after her, "d-don't you already have my measurements?"

she turns suddenly, raising an eyebrow as you almost crash into her. you realise she's a little shorter than you, though her presence made it seem she towered over you. "is there a problem?"

you blush, trying to create some distance between the two of you, "n-no ma'am! i just thought-"

"i like to take my own measurements. i don't trust the ones they sent me. after all..." she raises a hand, a manicured nail coming to trace your throat, from the middle of your neck to the tip of your chin. you hold your breath. "the notes didn't mention how devastatingly exquisite you are. i'll need to see if the rest of the... hardware matches that pretty face of yours." there's a dangerous glint in her eye, her lips curling up into a smirk as she watches your breath catch, then she's turning away and striding towards another work desk, leaving you tripping after yourself to follow her.

she quickly makes space on the counter, pushing aside sheets of drawings and pulling out a fresh new page devoid of any markings.

"well? are you shy or something? no one is allowed in here without my permission. we're alone darling don't worry." you can hear the teasing lilt in her voice, she doesn't need to turn away from her work for you to picture the smirk on her face.

you quickly rid yourself of your clothing, shivering a little in the air-conditioned workshop, reminding yourself that this was nothing out of the ordinary, you had been laid bare in front of beautiful women and men before, sana shouldn't be any different.

you hesitate when you reach your bra, but sana could smell your uncertainty.

"i said everything."

you gulped, undoing the clasp and sliding the straps off your shoulders, nipples hardening under the cool air of the room. you bend down to slide off your panties, stepping out of them carefully before coming back up, suddenly face to face with sana who's eyeing you with a hunger akin to the one of lioness. you turn to place your underwear with all your other clothes, but knowing sana was watching your every step lit a little fire in your lower stomach.

your toes clench on the cool tile of the workshop, you force yourself to take a breath before turning back to sana, and then letting her circle you again like her prey.

you almost jump when you feel her fingertip on your naked back, holding back sounds your mouth certainly shouldn't be making at work.

her finger slowly, slowly traces downwards, sana admires the smooth planes of your back, the sharp bones that jut out at your wingspan, the curve of your spine before pushing back out to your ass.

you don't even realise you're holding your breath until she pushes down slightly at the small of your back and you gasp.

then sana giggles. "cute."

her hand never leaves your body, she walks back around to face you, fingers tracing your arms, then your sides, squeezing teasingly at your hips.

"hmm... yes i can definitely work with this." her voice is lower, and you can't help but think she may be a little affected by you too.

she steps away again, grabbing a measuring tape, "you wouldn't mind doing a couple poses for me would you darling? i need to see which fabric would work best when you move around and sit or get into whatever other absurd positions momo might get you in when you take the photos."

you shake your head, irritated at the blush that was now definitely apparent on your cheeks. you were better than this, you took lessons on how to school your expression and bodily reactions for when you were forced into uncomfortable clothes and outfits.

sana nods towards a stool nearby, "just take a seat there, sit however's comfortable for now."

you follow her instructions almost robotically, wincing a little at the chill of the metal stool against the skin of your ass. you cross your legs, willing the arousal that was leisurely dripping out of you to stop before sana found out and fired you for being unprofessional.

she watches you wriggle around on the stool, trying to get comfortable with a smirk, treading forward when you're finally still. you try to look straight ahead, avoiding her gaze, but she cups your cheek lightly, forcing you to look up at her. she tilts your head from side to side, hums, then grabs the measuring tape and steps behind you, measuring your shoulder span.

"relax sweetheart, i can feel the tension in your muscles."

you let out a shaky breath, still refusing to speak.

"nervous?"

you shrug.

"you've done this before haven't you?"

you nod.

"are you not speaking because of the comment i made earlier? i didn't mean it y'know. it's not the first time i've rendered someone speechless before."

you gulp, unsure of the implications of her words, "r-right."

she giggles again, "almost thought i'd have to make you scream for me."

"w-what?!"

she hums, moving backwards again and ignoring your question, "lie down over there would you? on your front. if i know momo i know she loves her horizontal shots."

you shakily get up, moving to the mattress on the floor and laying down cautiously, feeling sana right on your heels.

it would be harder to hide your slick in this position, but you clenched your thighs together and did your best. the cool material of the sheets on the mattress brush across your already sensitive nipples in this state, and you fight the urge to let go and just go wild under sana's watchful gaze.

she hovers above you, noting down every twitch of your body, every arch, curve, bend. there's some rustling behind you but you keep focused on resisting your dirtier thoughts. that is until sana sits on top of your thighs.

you gasp at the feeling of her weight on top of you, right below your ass, "u-um-"

"i said to relax darling. i need to see how you'll feel when you're in this position." her excuses were getting sloppier.

"y-you do?"

"are you questioning me?"

"n-no! i'm sorry- please- um- please continue."

"good girl."

you feel your ears burning now as well, the blush having travelled across your cheeks and up. even you knew there was something other than fashion fitting going on here with that comment. but you still let her hands run over your back, even as they tease dangerously lower, down to your hips.

sana coughs, shuffling around, but her shuffling around was really her pushing her body up against your ass, essentially riding the back of your thighs. you can't help but release a choked-out moan, fingers digging into the skin of your forearms where you're resting your head, breaths coming in and out heavier.

she stops, smirking, then does it again, rocking forwards, eyes twinkling when you give her the exact same reaction, unable to control yourself.

"miss m-minatozaki-"

"just sana for you darling."

"... s-sana-"

"hmm?" she leans down, rocking forwards again, delighting in the moan you release, humming right next to your ear, her body laid almost completely on top of you.

"is this- is this still- are you still taking my measurements?"

she chuckles lowly, "what do you think?"

you whine, completely unsure what this devil of a woman wanted from you, "y-yes?"

"then why are you asking?" she giggles, finally letting you go, standing back up. "now, the couch please."

you inhale greedily, pushing yourself back up and wobbling over to the couch. your legs almost give out when you sit down, sinking into the material, and looking at anywhere but sana.

you're about to cross your legs again when she tuts, "ah ah. spread them."

your eyes widen, "b-but-!"

"but what? you already showed me a pose with your legs crossed, now i'll need to see one spread. surely you've seen it's a very classic pose? one of the outfits i'll have to design include pants and momo will definitely make you do this pose in them."

with nothing else to retort, you shyly spread your legs, the urge to cover yourself is overbearing. you wait for sana to say something, anything, prepared for your career to end here and now. you were so close to the big leagues too.

"run a hand through that pretty hair will you darling? elbow up."

you blink, doing as she says, dumbfounded as she steps closer, completely disregarding the obvious signs of lust at your core.

those hands come out again, one at your thigh, the other tracing down the tricep of the arm you have lifted above your head. with nowhere else to go, your arousal leaks outward, pussy drenched and needy as you hold your breath.

the hand that's at your thigh inches upwards, the one at your tricep downwards to cup your face again, thumb brushing over your lips that open just barely enough for her to fit her fingernail inside.

she can feel your shaky breaths on her thumb, can hear the whimper you let out when the hand at your thigh continues to trace up and down, closer and closer to your heat.

"s-sana..."

"yes darling?" her voice is husky, eyes lidded, lips open, whispering like she was sharing a secret even though no one else was around.

"i-i- i'm- i need-"

"what do you need?"

you gulp, fighting back against your better conscience, but the lust that's curling up inside your stomach wins out, "you. i need you."

she grins, "do you now?"

"yes please- sana please-"

"you're so cute when you beg darling. alright then. i'll entertain you." the hand that's at your thigh finally pushes forward, fingertips meeting drenched folds as you gasp in relief and desperation, hips pushing forward, trying to feel more of her.

"god you're so wet sweetheart. is this all for me?"

you're whimpering as she traces those practiced fingers of hers up and down your slit, just barely giving any pressure to your clit before dipping back down. "y-yes! all you all you-"

"well i have to be a good host and receive what you've given me don't i?"

she sinks down onto her knees, pulling your thighs towards her, taking off her specs and licking her lips devilishly as her eyes lock on her target.

your hands are about to move into her hair when she barks up at you, "no touching. you can touch yourself but you can't touch me."

you whine but obey, sliding your hands back up your stomach to grope at your chest needily, your nipples having been attention-starved since you took your bra off.

she grins, enjoying the view for a little before finally bringing her face closer. she blows on your puffy clit playfully, loving the way you squirm and whimper under her, before attaching her mouth to your pussy, sucking greedily.

"o-oh-!"

your hands grip your chest harder, wishing you could hold onto her head instead, but you have to settle for grinding down into her face, pushing against her grip at your hips while she eats you out, slurping loudly. the sounds are absurd, but your mind is too hazy to worry about being embarrassed anymore, not when your fingers are pinching and twisting your own nipples while you watch sana suck your clit into her mouth, her eyes locked on yours while she eats.

"g-god sana so good- so fucking good mmf- you- you- you're driving me insane god-"

sana flicks her tongue happily in response, one hand releasing your hip and coming down to play with your entrance. you clench around nothing, eager to take her in, and she obliges, pushing a finger in with your clit still in her mouth, curling it to hit the spot that only served to bring you closer to the edge.

"r-right there fuck- right there- i'm gonna- you're doing so good fuck-"

she starts pumping her finger in and out of you, the squelching sounds of your sex only become louder, an accompaniment to her suckling. you're flicking your fingers over your nipples, again and again, matching her pace, each stroke getting you closer and closer. then she adds in another finger, curling upwards, hooking into you, and you cry out, back arching, hips pushing into her face, shaking and trembling as you feel yourself fall over the edge.

sana continues to lick and nose at you while you come down, hands rubbing soothing motions into your hips and thighs. eventually, she slides back up, hand replacing yours over your chest and copping a feel for herself.

she's kissing your neck, chest, ears, all while you try and gain sense of yourself again. you turn your head with a pout, urging her to look at you. she smiles, knowing what you wanted without even asking, leaning in to kiss your pout away, your lips moving against one another as you hum at the taste of yourself on her lips,

she continues fondling your chest, rolling her fingers over nipples as you start to wriggle under her again, easily aroused.

she breaks away from your mouth with a smirk, "you're pretty when you cum."

you whine, burying your head in her neck.

"maybe i should tell mina and momo that. i think they'd get the best shots if you were mid orgasm."

"w-what?" your voice is shaky, still squiriming under her touch.

"hmm... you want another don't you? i've been working on something... special. how would you like to try it out for me?"

she doesn't wait for an answer, detaching herself from you and walking to one of her work desks. you can only watch after her, still spread open and tingly all over as she rummages through a drawer. your eyes widen when she pulls out a dildo, mind and vision suddenly clearer as she smirks, tugging out a corresponding harness and slipping the dildo into it.

then she starts to strip.

she leaves her top on, only removing her bottoms before stepping into the harness, the patchwork dildo hanging from her hips, looking strangely like it belonged on her.

she giggles when she notices you staring, doing a little spin, the fake dick swinging around ridiculously. "you like? i was going for... cutesy and demure." she plops down next to you, tapping her thighs.

you swallow nervously, pushing yourself up and straddling her.

"you can touch now."

your hands that were awkwardly swinging by your side finally come up to rest on her shoulders.

"answer the question."

"y-yeah- i- um- it's cute."

she giggles again, "that's good. need to make sure something as cute as you gets filled up with something just as cute hmm? then you can make all those cute sounds for me too."

her hands are relentless, tugging you down into her lap, brushing your hair over your shoulder, running fingers down over sides. she's always got to have her hands on you.

you huff when she teases the strap along your slit, feeling yourself dripping already. you try and catch her eye, pouting again.

she rolls her eyes, "just ask me if you want to kiss."

"can you kiss me?"

"see that was so cute! that's a good girl." then she's pulling you into her, latching onto your lips.

the makeout session that proceeds has you grinding down into her without even realising, and you take a hint of pleasure at her returning the movement, her own hips starting to rut up into yours. she sucks your bottom lip into her mouth, swiping her tongue across it before letting it go, invading your mouth still with the faint taste of yourself. when you break away to gasp for air, she moves straight to your cheek, then down to your jaw, neck, collarbones, sucking marks along her way, hands coming up to play with your chest again.

she pushes your breasts upwards so her mouth can reach skin easier, sucking and kissing, careful not to leave marks on you, knowing your body was your instrument in this line of work.

you moan when you feel her lips wrap around a nipple, the warm cavern of her mouth sucking the little nub, her tongue lapping over it with glee.

you're unabashedly rocking against her now, loving the tingle that went up your spine with every pass of the strap on your clit, her mouth still attached to your chest while you held the back of her head, keeping her against you while you moaned and whined into her.

she switches nipples, cool air hitting the wet, exposed nub. you shiver under her despite her actions only heating your body up past a temperature you didn't know was possible.

"s-sana-"

she hums around your nipple, always so focused on her work, the vibrations go straight to your core.

"need you- n-now- please-"

your nipple pops free from her mouth, "i'm not stopping you." then she's back at your chest, sucking and kissing, addicted.

you groan, looking down between you and shakily aligning your entrance with her strap. it takes a few tries and you're almost crying in frustration and sana's not helping at all, completely preoccupied with your chest, before you finally sink down, moaning low and heavy as you feel her fill you up.

"fuuck-"

sana sucks at the patch of skin on your left breast just a little harder in response.

you push yourself back up using her shoulders, then drop back down, cursing as your core tingles at the sensation.

you repeat the process, eyes locked on the way she enters and exits you, her strap coated in your essence, the squelching sounds mix with your whines and groans.

"fuck- fuck- fuck-" you start riding her, swearing each time she fills you up, setting up a rhythm that has you dizzy with need. sana finally decides to break away to watch her masterpiece bounce in front of her. fading bite marks and patches of red skin sway as she moves her hands down to your hips, pushing you down harder with each entrance, bucking her own hips up to get the strap that much deeper.

"fuck!" your hands on her shoulders tighten, feeling her everywhere inside you, around you.

"review it for me sweetheart." she husks out, "if you saw it in a magazine would you buy it?"

"y-yes- fuck- w-wait no i don't- i don't know-"

"no?"

"you don't come with it- fuck-"

she chuckles, hands moving again to grip your ass, squeezing the flesh between her fingers, "let's say i do. then what?"

"y-yes- yes yes fuck- yes i would-"

"mhmm? i want a more detailed review than that darling. i need to know how to make improvements."

"f-fuck sana- it's so- you're fucking me so- so good- it's good it's good-"

"other than good?"

"g-god you're so- it's um- fuck- it's cute and- i like the colours- a-and shit jesus christ- it fills me up just right- and i'm gonna- fuck- i can't- it's gonna make me cum-!"

"why don't i give it a helping hand then hm?"

"yes! yes- please- please- god- fuck yes-"

she pushes herself up, pulling you back down, surprising you with the amount of strength she had hidden, then she's thrusting up into you roughly.

"uh- uh- fuck- uh-" you're moans are cut up with every thrust, she's experienced, like she is in everything she does, panting with effort while her hips work, her arms pulling you down with every thrust up, you can't even keep track of where she's entering you, moving so fast it was a blur. or maybe those were the tears building up as it gets almost too much, your desperation to cum for her, to cum all over her.

"f-fuck!" you scream out, clenching down around her, hips moving of their own accord, shaking and moaning, almost blacking out from pleasure.

your breaths are heavy as you come back down, still with sana's strap lodged inside you, sweaty hands unwrapping themselves from around her neck, slumping down and resting your entire weight on the fashion designer.

sana hums, brushing through your hair and your back, letting you catch your breath.

when you finally gain enough of your bearings, you grunt as you sit up, sliding the dildo out of yourself, cringing at the mess you've made between the two of you.

sana only giggles, bringing a finger down to trace the length of the dildo and then bringing it to her own mouth, sucking it and humming around the taste.

your stomach twinges again in arousal, but you whine, too sensitive to go again, knocking your forehead against sana's shoulder as you avoid looking at her.

she lets you rest there for a while, but eventually stands up, carrying the dildo off with her to clean off. when she comes back, she has your clothes and a damp towel for you to clean yourself up with.

"i have another appointment now. feel free to stay as long as you'd like, just don't touch any of the designs. i'll send the completed outfits for you to try once they're done." she's all business again, but before you let her turn on her heel and leave, you croak out.

"w-what about you?"

"what about me?" she raises an eyebrow.

you blush, covering yourself now that you have enough shame to be embarrassed. she pays you no mind, following your eyeline and looking down at herself. then she realises what you're asking.

she laughs brightly, "no sweetheart you don't need to take care of me. but if i ever need another... trial customer... i'll be sure to ask for you." she winks, and then she's off, heels clicking in the workshop and door closing behind her.

you sink down into the couch, still processing exactly what happened. all you knew was that everyone was right to be terrified of minatozaki sana. though your fear came with a side of thrill you're sure no one else could've warned you about.

#sana #minatozaki sana #twice sana #sana x reader #twice sana x reader #minatozaki sana x reader #twice x reader #twice imagines #sana imagines #sana smut #twice smut #twice sana smut #minatozaki sana smut #dovveri

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wandering-pirate · 4 months ago

Text

Mouthwashing Characters Headcanon

Christmas Day with You

Captain Curly

You and him baking sugar cookies in matching aprons? Peak domestic fluff His apron said "Sugar Daddy," and yours? "Daddy’s Sugary Snacc"

Yeah, that was all his idea. He couldn’t stop showing them off, grinning ear to ear, parading them around Walmart like it was a fashion show.

Meanwhile, you were just trying to hunt down all the ingredients in peace, but nope, he had to follow you around, flaunting those aprons.

After a war of flours, you successfully conjured up a decent batch

You had to use actual physical restraint to stop him from adding Vegemite to the cookies. The audacity. And when he ate one, took a full spoonful of it, and moaned?? Yeah, a monster

He’s obsessed with ski or any snow sport video game and always teases you for being a noob. But it’s all in good fun—he’s learned his lesson after the Mario Kart Incident that shall never be mentioned again

"Sweetheart, you’re gonna twist your joint with that posture—"

"Hush! You just wanna win gold again. Stop tempting me, you tall, handsome, bulky-ass demon"

Naturally, your competitive streak kicked in and, somehow, you ended up twisting your ankle

He played the role of nurse, cold compress in hand, sneaking kisses to your ankle because “it speeds up healing” (and also because he’s a shameless flirt who’ll use any excuse to be touchy)

You both gave up on the active stuff and just settled in for a holiday romcom. Of course, you both passed out halfway through

Nurse Anya

You made sure the fireplace was stacked to the brim with firewood because Anya + cozy fire = Christmas must

Your tradition? Her reading a book with her legs propped up on your thighs while you either watch your favorite YouTube videos or game

She’d be all serious about the book, but every now and then, she’d peek over at your screen, giggling at your reactions, but pretending like she was still super into the book

"What did he even trip on? Hell no, he deserved more than just getting skinned alive"

“Y/N, sweetie, natural selection. The weak always get eliminated”

"Mmm, makes sense"

When the clock hit a certain hour, it was handwritten letter time. Instead of gifts, you both wrote love letters to each other. This started when she told you how she re-read your first love letter whenever she got stuck on months long of hauls as a crew nurse

"Yeah, sorry, Anya. No letter this year"

"What? Bu—"

"Because you’re not getting back on that claustrophobic flying submarine this time"

Knowing how much she wanted to enter med school, you gave her the ultimate gift: fully paid tuition for a six-month medicine review center. You’d worked all year for it, and seeing her reaction made every second of it worth it

It was the first time you saw her cry. Anya, who’s always calm and composed, was sobbing in your arms, and it just wrecked you with love. You hugged her tighter, not sure who was more emotional at that point

"Y/N, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me"

Intern Daisuke

He planned the perfect Christmas adventure, complete with bullet points, timestamps, and color-coded charts. You had to give him credit for actually being organized for once—he really took his Christmas plans seriously

But, of course, the Christmas spirit was clearly not on his side this time. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong:

Alarm didn’t go off

There was a traffic jam due to a fender bender

Your favorite thrift store? Closed for maintenance

Even the skating rink shut down after some bizarre oil spill caused a dogpile (like, how does that even happen?)

By the end of the day, you weren’t mad at all, just hungry. And somehow, Daisuke turned every misfortune into something you both would be giggling about

You both bought GIGANTIC mugs at Walmart that read, “The Grinch pales at my naughtiness.” They were immediately used to create the world’s sickest hot chocolate, piled with as equally large marshmallows and a diabetes-inducing amount of whipped cream.

Meanwhile, Daisuke was relentless in roasting the Grinch—he couldn’t stop hating on that movie.

“Who even hates Christmas? It’s the grand finale of the year! Absolute loser behavior.”

Mechanic Swansea

Christmas in the garage, for short, his sanctuary. The man thought of everything: fully insulated it, brought in a heater, all just to make sure you were warm and comfy while you both worked

Both of you had this wordless agreement to work on woodcrafts for Christmas. He taught you the basics of woodworking and you proved yourself to be a modern abstract Picasso. You improved throughout the years, tho. Your pieces? From abstract Picasso to expressionism Picasso

He loves carving because it gives him the perfect excuse to sit right behind you, guiding your hands with his. His big teddy bear frame is all around you, and something about that just hits him deeply. Like when he knows you’re safe and protected in his arms. And your eagerness to learn and follow his moves. He melts.

Naturally, you got a splinter, triggering his fierce Tsundere side

“What did I tell you about not rubbing fresh-cut wood? Keep this up, and I’ll just have you sit on my lap while I do your work for you.”

But underneath all that scolding, you could see his silent panic. He just hides behind transparent glass

"Stop smiling at me like that, you clumsy goof"

After crafting a spoon with a thirty-degree angled handle and an awkward head (he still called it perfect, of course), he whipped up his signature paella

Somehow, despite having eaten a thousand spoonfuls of it over the years, you still weren’t tired of it

Co-pilot Jimmy

Jimmy’s not really one for celebrating Christmas. Not bitter about it or anything, but he just treated it like any normal day. That all changed, though, when he realized that Christmas was your thing.

“Babe, why Christmas?”

“Honestly? I’m not really sure. But you know how, when we were kids, there’s that feeling of excitement, like when Christmas is coming and you can’t stop smiling? It just brings all that back, and suddenly, you feel like a kid again. So I guess, it’s just nostalgia, huh?”

He never really thought about it that way before. After all, his goal as a kid was always to grow up faster than everyone else.

So, you took it upon yourself to share all your favorite Christmas traditions with him, hoping to bring a little of that magic into his world:

Decorating your tree? He suggested replacing the star with an angel figurine... with your printed face glued on it. (Naturally, he followed through after you both went to bed, sneaking up to do it.)

Making a gingerbread house? He blocked the chimney, and when you asked why… well, he said it best:

“I don’t want some fat bastard breaking in, he’d eat the entire damn house”

By Christmas Eve, looking around his once-bare apartment, now filled with colors he didn’t even know existed, he couldn’t stop that tugging in his heart. He didn’t even realize how much of his childhood was missing until now.

You were patching up his unhealed wounds with your bandaids, and he didn’t even notice until it was too late. He's down bad

a/n: I know it's late T.T, but here's the crew having some holiday break... future angst coming up with curly and you (sorry)

also p.s. english ain't my first language, so i kinda felt like my whole headcanon writing abilities were crap... but these somehow are the top liked posts soooo... future HCs comin' down your way

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onepieceisreeeeaaalll · 3 days ago

Note

may I request another Luffy x fem reader please. Where Luffy is always picking up y/n like anywhere and everywhere they go (they aren’t dating or anything yet either) and he’s just always carrying her. Maybe even one day she’s wearing a skirt and so she freaks out when Luffy goes to grab her but Luffy holds her skirt down while carrying her. I don’t know I feel like it would be cute. Thank you!

Carried Away - Luffy x Fem!Reader

Hey! This was SO FUN to write! I spent too long trying to avoid it because I was overthinking, but it's been sitting in my drafts just haunting me. Here it is! Hope you like it!

Tags: SFW, use of y/n, platonic, pre-relationship, gunshot, Marine shenanigans

Check out my masterlist if you like stuff like this!

~1.7k

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Incident One - The Thousand Sunny, noon

“Luffy, you can't be serious.” Nami sighs.

The ship has been sailing a course towards - well, you can't remember. Nami's the one who handles the navigation, and quite honestly, you didn't hear where she said you'd be going. Something about the logpose, needing to restock - the usual. The point is that it's meant to be an easy journey.

So, everyone's a little surprised to see a random, abandoned dingy in the middle of the ocean. With a treasure chest in it, no less.

“Yeah - duh! We can't just leave that there!” Luffy whines, gesticulating his hands at Nami. “We're pirates - remember? That's treasure!”

“We don't know that, idiot!” Nami snaps, reaching a hand up to smack at Luffy's head. “It could be explosive, like that barrel was forever ago! Remember that?”

He's already barreling near the edge of the ship, though, eyes widen with excitement. You can't help but giggle at the energy he has.

“Aw, come on! Let me go over and take a look! I'll be real quick. Besides, what if it is treasure? Don't you want the money?”

Nami seems to pause at Luffy's comment. Everyone looks between her and Luffy, before she lets out a very long sigh. If you look closely enough, you're sure you can see berrie signs in her eyes.

“Fine. But seriously, only real quick. And bring someone along with you so you don't get stuck in the water. Like Zo-”

“Alright! Let's go!”

Your eyes widen the moment Luffy's arm snakes around your waist, rotating around it over and over again in rubbery fashion. You weren't even close to him, but for some reason, you're the one he's selected.

“Wait!” You screech, your hands grasping at his arm, but it's too late.

Laughing wildly, Luffy backs up, rearing his other arm before launching you against his side and sending you both over the edge of the Sunny.

“Luffy!” You scream, but the sound of the wind passing by is too loud in your ears. And so is Luffy's laugh.

You land on the dingy with a thud, your arms still grasping onto Luffy tightly. His arm retracts from the rotation around your waist, and while you breathe heavily to calm your racing heart, Luffy is already marching towards the treasure chest in the small space.

“What the-” You start, but Luffy's quick to wave you over.

“Nami said I needed someone to come with. Here, check this out with me!”

Your head aches, and all you can do is stare at him as a groan slips past your lips. Well, you can't argue with that logic.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Incident Two - A Nearby Island, morning

Yesterday, that treasure chest proved to not have treasure itself, but some kind of treasure map. The crew was mixed. On the one hand, it seems like an obvious trap. On the other hand, money. Money won out.

Much to everyone's relief, the map has led to a nearby island. The one the crew was headed to, anyway, so it was really of no inconvenience. There's the opportunity to restock, to fix gear, to get a bite to eat. It's a much needed respite after the long journey everyone's just had, so why not add a treasure hunt?

No one is more excited about this than Luffy, Chopper, and Usopp.

“Treasure hunt!” They gleefully cheer, leading the charge down the gangplank.

The ship is docked off the shore, hidden away by large trees and surrounding cliff sides. So long as everyone is careful, there's no reason to believe there should be any danger.

You're gathering your things, sorting through them on the deck. Getting a free day with some berries in your pocket is rare enough as is. It'd be preferable to make the most of it. Maybe some new boots? Oh, or something to take up your free time! Knitting?

It’s while you're lost in your thought bubble that you feel something grab at you. Looking down, your wrist is clamped by - is that a hand? Attached to-

The rubber arm is long, outstretched from the bottom of the gang plank, and you let out a gasp as it reels you quickly away from where you're standing.

“Luffy!” You whine, as exasperated now as you were yesterday.

You're snapped to Luffy's side, pulled with such a force that your feet fly off the ground until you crash into his body. Luffy beams, moving his hands to straighten you up properly. You blow some hair from your face, jerking forcibly from his grasp. Even though he's strong, it seems to have taken him off-guard.

“Seriously, what was that for?!”

“Didn't want you to get left behind! We're treasure hunting!” Luffy grins.

“You can't just-!” You start to argue, but you're too flustered to really finish your statement. He's beaming at you too brightly, and that smile is too damn infectious.

With a sigh, you pull away, walking down the hill ahead of the group.

“I'm going clothes shopping!” You exclaim.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Incident Three - Town, noon

This is getting out of hand. You're aware of how much Luffy likes to grab at the crew, throw them around, and it's no secret that he prefers it to finding another route to having people do as he says. Luffy's impatient. Impulsive. Reckless. It's grown on you, sure, but there's something about the way your stomach lurches every time you're tossed around that leaves you uneasy.

But you've planned for this. It was a decision made out of necessity, nothing more. A cute skirt purchased in town, too short to really significantly cover anything if you were moved around. Sure, Luffy is…well, Luffy, but he's still a guy. At the end of the day, there's no way he'd risk your modesty. Right? He could respect that.

That's the idea, anyway.

Your shopping trip has ended, and you're sporting your new skirt, holding a bag of clothes casually in one hand. It's a beautiful day. The sun is shining brightly on the town, birds are chirping, and there's an arm around your waist.

Wait.

Your eyes widen as you're pulled back forcefully, soaring several feet backwards into the air. A scream rips from your throat as you're pulled into Luffy's arms, and the rubber man is running with impressive speed through town. Your arms wrap around his neck tightly to hang on, and everything is whirring by so fast that you can't figure out what's happening immediately. All that you know is you're moving, you've lost your bag of clothes, and Luffy is the culprit.

“Hey, (Y/N), good thing I found ya! I lost Chopper and Usopp, but they'll catch up. We're gettin’ outta here!”

“Monkey D. Luffy, what the hell are you-?!”

Gunshots. You screech, scrambling as you shift in his arms. Luffy groans with mild irritation, adjusting his hold on you tightly as he sends an arm onto a nearby pole. He launches you both up, and you bury your face in his neck.

“Marines?! How did that happen?!” You exclaim, and your face turns red as your skirt flies up. An arm moves from his neck, quickly scrambling to pull the fabric down.

“Oh - yeah! Turns out that treasure map was left by them! Funny, right?”

“Funny?!”

"Well, kinda." He shrugs, before turning his head out to the Marines. "Stupid jerks! We wanted our treasure!"

"There's Straw Hat!" A Marine yells, followed by several loud bangs from their guns.

You gasp as he jumps between buildings, and bullets are ricocheting off of stone structures you both pass, nearly grazing you. You're pretty sure some hit Luffy, bouncing off of his rubber legs and sending them off every which way. But your skirt keeps threatening to creep up, and you're not sure how tightly you can hang onto him with just one arm. Luffy can feel you bouncing in his grasp, and he glances down at you with a look.

“What's wrong? Put both arms around me or you're gonna fall!”

“I can't, my skirt!” You whine. “I'm gonna flash everyone!”

“Hm?” Luffy tilts his head, furrowing his brows as he looks down at your lap. Noticing your hand pinning your skirt down, he doesn't think twice. He reaches to grab your hand, pulling it around his neck.

“Luffy!”

“Stop whining, just hold on!” Luffy groans, and one of his hands moves to the fabric of your skirt before it can fly up any further. He holds it down, one hand on your skirt and the other wrapped around you tightly.

Your face flushes, and you gasp as he jumps from the roof of a building down to a tree, and then to the ground. You jostle with every move, but your arms have secured you to his body. You're safely nestled against him, and you don't think twice about moving.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Incident Four - The Thousand Sunny, evening

The ship lurches as it lands in the ocean far from the island the crew was on. You all let out a collective sigh of relief as the sails carry you far, far away from that Marine trap. By the time you and Luffy had arrived on the ship earlier, everyone else had barely made it, and Franky had already loaded up the cola to coup de burst the crew to safety.

It's only now, in the aftermath of the fight, that Luffy's grasp on you loosens. He had been too caught up in punching and tossing Marines away to even think about letting you go. Your feet touch the deck carefully, and Luffy's rubber limbs retract as they snap back into place.

Your hands immediately move to straighten out your skirt, and you hear a huff from your Captain beside you. Glancing up, you take notice of the way he adjusts his hat, looking at you with a tilted head and a confused expression.

“Why're you wearin’ somethin’ like that, anyway? Makes it harder to fight, right?” He asks, and his tone is genuinely dumbfounded.

Your face flushes, and words die in your throat. What explanation is there? I didn't want you to toss me around? Clearly, that didn't work, and it feels a little embarrassing to say as much. You're not sure why, but telling Luffy you bought a skirt because of him feels weird. So, you clear your throat, leaning back against the railing of the ship behind you.

“Oh, um…just thought it was cute.” You lie, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “I didn't think we'd be running from Marines today.”

Luffy's quiet for a moment, and his eyes flicker to your skirt only briefly. He still looks dumbfounded.

“Huh. M'kay. Just don't complain when I grab ya next time that your skirt’s goin’ up.” He responds with a grin, a playful chuckle sounding from his chest.

This son of a-

"Sanjiiii! I'm hungry! Whadda ya got?” Luffy exclaims, turning away from you decisively.

“Can it, Luffy, we just got out of port! I need to unload the groceries!” Sanji shouts from across the deck.

Even though you're still annoyed, and your skirt is still riding up, you find yourself laughing. Maybe the Captain grabbing you for adventures isn't the worst thing in the world.

#one piece #op #luffy #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d luffy fluff #luffy fluff #luffy x reader fluff #nami #cat burglar nami #sanji #black leg sanji #one piece fanfiction #op fanfiction

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almondmilkcleanser · 4 months ago

Text

when I made a little mess, he told me to clean my act up....

└ 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 `

synopsis - your friends are seeing less and less of you and all you can give them as an excuse is that between school and Sukuna your schedule is filled to the brim. Is tonight going to be any different? pairing - ryomen Sukuna x reader

content -Daddy dom sUkuna listening to - positions x ariana grande minors do not interact a/n - happy holidays everyone <3

Ping!

Come out with us for drinks! Its been so long since weve seen you since you started dating this guy. Whats his name again?

Ping!

Oh come onnnn! This is like the third weekend in a row that youve bailed on us. Sewriously, who is this guy anyway?

Ping!

Y/nnnnn! We miss you! Why dont you tell your little boy toy that you cant sit on his lap this weekend and actually come out with us~~~ love you talk to you later!

Ping!

Are you okay? We’re worried. Whats really going on? Everytime we try to invite you out you say youre with this Sukuna guy. Seriously who is he? Ugh! Call me later. Love you bye!

Ping! Ping! Ping!

“Tsk. you dont need those kinds of friends anyway. Nothin’ but a bunch of jealous girls. Isn't that right, beautiful?” You wish you could reply, but you were stuffed - practically down to your rib cage - full of Sukuna. He crossed his flexed biceps behind his head, a smug expression slowly creeping across his face.

Aggressively pressing the lock button on your phone, he tossed it clear across the room. He read the plethora of messages between your friends, how they complained about their boyfriends/dates - both seemingly interchanged between each other in some, very odd, sort of fashion - and how they were going to form a man hating group. Just for you to turn around and meet Sukuna. Mean old Sukuna. Curse destroying Sukuna.

Sukuna, your Dom. Sukuna, your boyfriend.

Sukuna, the one training you to take his entire dick down your throat as your first lesson.

He chose your hairstyle, two low ponytails that hung daintily down your back. He didn’t give a shit if you just got your hair done. He’ll pay to get it fixed once he’s done with you. He kept you pampered; your hair was done, nails were done, fresh pedicures, the works. So to hell with messing up a hairstyle, daddy Sukuna took care of it all.

The new choker he bought you complimented your skin tone perfectly. You always voiced your concerns on how the BDSM community never catered to darker skinned women as far as color selection, but he pulled the appropriate strings, so nothing on your beautiful brown skin looked washed out or ashy. The metal heart brightly polished - almost spit shined - and neatly rested on your throat. That pretty fucking throat that he had grown so acquainted it.

He hmm’d to himself as he reminisced, his eyes never leaving your innocent face as you stared back at him. Your plush, glossed lips, encircled around his dick. As you swallowed him whole, he thought back to the first time you rode him.

Your hips bouncing up and down at a hungered pace, his large hand wrapped around your neck, and his engorged dick french kissing your gripping walls, pulling him in deeper, deeper, deeper into the depths of your love nest to welcome his seed home.

Thank fuck for birth control. A mutual agreement between you two - but it was, in all honesty, the best thing you could have done.

His dark eyes flashed something so lustful, so salacious, that he almost sounded giddy upon sharing it with you.

“Y/N, sweetheart, Mmh, I have an idea.” your soft tongue flicked the pre-cum clean off the tip of his head, your eyes innocent and wanting. With your hands still wrapped around his dick, you continued to lick the head, your ears perked at his idea.

“Yes, daddy. What’s your idea.” Sukuna loved your obedience. If half of the idiots surrounding him on a day-to-day basis had half the brains and even a fraction of your pussy, then his days would go a lot smoother. But until then-

With an ever growing smile, he jerked his head to the side of him, making your eyes wander over his direction. In the corner was the suspension rig that he put together for play time.

The metallic poles glinted brightly under your living room lights - they almost mocked you, ready to hoist you in the air for all of Sukuna to see and galore in his own self of triumph - its black lapels sturdy, strong, shining. For you.

Sukuna read your eyes with triumph. Partial sadism and partial perversion intertwined themselves into one, forming at the root a creation that would sit-pretty in the back of his mind. Of course, you would look up at him, mouth stuffed with his girth, with such an harmless stare. You blinked - pleading almost - that his mind wasn’t affixed to the sight of you dangling there, helpless and pleading, pussy pretty, raspberry pink, and wanting to be split down the middle.

“Remember what daddy talked about last weekend? How if you didn’t get that A in your organic chemistry class that we’d be setting up our next little toy?” In what world was that fucking contraption little?!

“Y-yes, Daddy.” you stopped giving him head to look deeper into his eyes. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his upper thighs. He traced your bottom lip and smirked. His sadistic eyes shimmering brightly.

“I saw how you tried to turn that ‘C’ into an A. So I logged into your school account.” his voice simmered a mixture of amber and sweet tobacco. But you and your pussy knew that he wasn't anywhere near pleased. He fed you his thumb, and like an obedient plaything you opened your mouth, letting him rest on your tongue.

You suckled down, lapping your tongue around it, taking in the hints of your own juices from this morning’s requested “stuffing session”. You were a greedy little thing. Begging him for one finger, then two, all four, and finally his thumb. Your mind was still recalibrating from that orgasm even to this second.

“Baby, tsss, why did you lie to me?” he used his other hand to tiptop to one ponytail, then the other. Holding both in his hand, he tugged gently. You had no reason outside of being a brat. You hated organic chemistry. The teacher didn’t offer extra credit. And Sukuna, as hungrily devilish he was, he didn’t fuck around when it came to your education. You still remember how many times he edged you because you forgot to turn in a huge presentation for your English class. You already had an A in the class! But Daddy didn’t care.

You held his wrist with both of your hands, putting extra care into teasing his thumb. Taking it a step further, you nudged his hand to welcome two more of his fingers. You could taste yourself. A specially formulated nectar that practically oozed from your pussy, all dried up on his fingers. He knew what you were trying to do. But by fucking God did he enjoy falling for it.

He pulled on your ponytails, popping his mouth off of his hands and upwards at him.

“Sweetie, I asked a question. Why did you lie about your grades?” He took those same two fingers in his mouth and purposely slobbered on them. He scooted off the chair, his torso still towering over yours, and repositioned himself on his knees in front of you. He snaked his hand behind you and popped those same two fingers in your slicked opening. You welcomed him cheerfully, making him tsss at the sudden wave of wet warmth sucking him in.

He had to keep his composure. He had to keep his vices in tack. Otherwise he would turn you around and fucking throttle you for hours.

“Speak, Y/N.” he growled.

“B-because I didn’t want you to be mad, Suna~” you clenched your teeth, swallowing down a moan. “I fell asleep studying and didn’t remember half of what was on the test. But I won’t do it again- ah- I p-p-promise.” Sukuna stuffed you with a third finger but refused to move. He shook his head disapprovingly.

“Tsk tsk tsk. All you had to do was tell me the truth. But now-” the pressure of his thumb as it pressed against your asshole sent shivers across your body.

“We’re going to have some fun.”

✥✥✥

“Mmmm… look at that pussy.” Sukuna took a few steps to admire his work. You were dangling in midair, your ankles held up by two suspension straps and your arms held behind your back by another set of suspension straps. Your body lazily rocked back and forth in midair, everything exposed to Sukuna.

“And you were protesting this idea so much, Y/N.” Sukuna snorted, bunching all the straps in his hand to rock you back to him. “Look how wet she is,” with one finger, he scooped the inside of your pussy, whistling in wondrous regard at how sticky you were. “She’s fucking ready, princess. Are you?”

Your body was hot. You’ve never been this exposed by anyone in your life! If your friends were to get a glimpse of you - Ms. high-strung, always punctual, studious and practically perfect - strung up like a holiday ham about to get the shit fucked out of you, what would they say?

Sukuna pulled the holsters back, guiding his thick dick into your slicked entrance with precision. He growled aloud, seeing you so helpless as he stretched you open sparked something carnal inside of him. His pretty pillow princess, hanging in the air, submissive and so fucking sexy. All for him.

All for me

Slap! He moved his hips back and forth. Palming your beautiful ass, slapping each cheek as you rocked back and forth. Swallowing him whole.

All for fucking me.

Your pussy gripped around him, making him moan aloud. “F-fuck, baby. Your pussy isn’t letting up today. She’s a g-good girl~ she’s a good fucking girl~” he slapped your ass again, upping the pace. He gripped the holsters so you’d stay in place as he slammed into you. He made your pussy his home, claiming each available space as his. Your sloshed insides coated his dick with an opaque film that glistened every inch of him from tip to base, even dripping down his balls.

“S-s-suna-a-a-a~” Your pitched whines fed him. He fucked you harder, and harder, and harder. Your slutty pussy let him in each and every time. Its warmth enveloping his massive girth and nestling him home. With a grit of his teeth, he tried his damnedest not to cum, but you were just-

“Dammit, she’s so fucking good baby. Your pussy l-loves this”

“‘Ts so fucking tight.” He spit on his thumb, guiding it in your forbidden hole. “Sucha nasty fucking girl.” He pulled himself out of you to admire you. Your open pussy, slicked, wanting, welcoming. “Does daddy’s girl want to come?” He licked two fingers and pressed them on your clit. The electric shocks sending your back into an arch and your moans into a frenzy.

“Hm? I don’t think i hear you, doll~” he slapped your clit with those same two fingers, chuckling under his breath. Your eyes caught a flashing light in the corner of the room. It was your phone. Your friends were calling you again.

“Oh, that’s a shame.” his hand wrapped around your neck. He smiled into your neck, biting playfully on your shoulder. “Looks like others want your attention as much as I do.” He guided himself back into you. Your quivering pussy clenching down, refusing to let him go.

“How’s about this-” he kissed your cheek. “You give me a good orgasm and I’ll let you go. And you can go make up lost time with your friends. Sounds good?” he didn’t really wait for an answer. Instead, he stood back up, grabbed your hips, and proceeded to pound into you.

“F-fuck! You like this, huh, sweetheart?” You did. You fucking did. Being so vulnerable and open to him from all angles drove you fucking insane. Your body rocked back and forth as his hips met your ass. The ripples of your ass sending Sukuna in a daze. He loved watching your almond-coated body glazed with sweat. You needed this fucking more than you admitted. And he was more than happy to give it to you.

His thrusts increased in force. So much that he had to cinch onto your hips so you wouldn’t fly forward. But Daddy Sukuna knew you. He knew you would take it. With a fucking smile. Your moans escalated to a near animalistic pitch. He loved seeing you let loose. To hear you curse, whine, and groan your frustrations made him proud to be yours. To be your release. To be-

“My pretty fucking girl. Taking all of this dick for daddy, huh? Fucking come on me, princess.”

“That’s-” stroke “An-” stroke “Order.”

Your hips buckled as he pushed forward, kissing the end of your cervix. You felt his fluid coating your walls, glistening each surface area of you with his cream. Even when you were stuffed, droplets of his cum littered the floor, streaked down your thighs, and pooled underneath you.

“Suna~” you whined, “These are going to stain my stockings, again.” he responded by kissing your shoulder again.

“I’ll just buy you another pair, doll. ‘Ts nothin’ when I get to see your pretty face like this.” and then, another devilish idea sparked in his head. He held the holsters again, turning you around to face his pelvis.

“How’s about one more round. And then you can tell your friends to meet you wherever you decide. My treat~”

As you looked up at him, his dick jumped to life again. Both sides equally veiny, moistened, and waiting for your plush lips to wrap around them.

You didn’t say anything, all you did was smirk and latch your soft tongue around the base.

“Nnh-” Sukuna squeezed the holsters. “Good girl.’

“Good fucking girl.”

END.

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komelliko · 4 months ago

Text

manipulative!boss!sunday x timid!secretary!reader

summary: You accept the dinner invite, but can't shake the feeling that Sunday had alternative motivations. Well—you can't seem to get yourself to ignore it as well as you usually do, at least. wc: 1.3k

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 (nsfw)

---

To say you’re surprised that Sunday knows something almost feels on its way to an insult. Ever since meeting him, you’ve felt the notion that Sunday fills every room he’s in with a sort of omnipresence—a watchfulness that extends beyond his direct gaze, an invisible cloud of eminence curling in the corners of space like steam. Sure, you collect information for him in your manila folders and papers and electronic mails… but you often wonder if it’s merely to organize, not to present. That he is already aware of all things, and only wishes for it to be in proper order.

All this to say: The dress fitting you perfectly is entirely logical. Sure, maybe it’s a bit too perfect, but to show concern feels almost sacrilegious.

Of course Sunday knows. It’s normal for an employer to know such things, isn’t it?

Regardless, you find yourself out of place in this Blue Hour restaurant. Your only companions seem to be the objects in your old clutch: Your phone, and a metal tin of your favorite mints. Bringing along a wallet or even a few credit bills was out of the question, Sunday had assured you. Even at your protest, he insisted it would be taken care of.

You press a mint against the roof of your mouth with your tongue. You had been too anxious to remember the name of the restaurant, only hearing the erratic pace of the jazz music echoing from the band’s main stage. Only seeing the satin of the tablecloth. Only feeling the gnawing pit in your stomach.

“About today’s report, sir—“

Sunday would only keep his clasped fists against the table, maybe his forearms, but never his elbows. He was a man with remarkable, old-fashioned etiquette.

“Please,” he corrects you. “Call me Sunday.” “Mister Sunday,” you reiterate. But something tells you to stop talking anyways.

Your eyes glance around the room, wondering from what other angles he seems to be watching you, ridiculous as it may sound. You curse yourself at how easy it is to ‘pay it no mind’, ‘give it no thought’ in any other occasion. During work, at meetings, or when his presence is invisible to you. The sentiment feels like the most logical thing in the world then, but now? It’s a ridiculous notion.

But you can at least pretend to pay it no mind, and you find that to be enough for the time being. The band plays on, a saxophone wailing out its melody over double bass and the hiss of the drum kit.

"Jazz as a term for Penaconian music is a fairly recent construction," he begins to speak, at first seemingly to nobody but himself. "Popularized by my dear sister, naturally. Do you know what the term comes from?"

You shake your head.

"'Jats', more commonly phrased as 'the jats', also known as spirit, moxie, joie de vivre—Now, it's been corrupted to mean something closer to restlessness," he sighs. "But in its inception, to have 'the jats' was to be blessed by Xipe with a certain euphoria, and the style of music that many associated with such a feeling was said to be played by 'Jats bands'." Sunday takes the smallest sip of his drink before adding "But Jazz rolls off the tongue better, doesn't it?”

You laugh, a rictus showing on your face. “Indeed it does, Mr. Sunday.”

He smiles no wider than he would at any other person. Your certain vulnerability seems to almost leak onto the floor, rivulets flowing down the legs of your chair—Sunday relishes in the image, watery anxiety beading off the skin of your back and running down the curve of your spine. Underneath his gloves, his knuckles pale as he laces his fingers together tightly. The vision before him is everything he’d ever hoped for—what he’d been picturing when he selected the venue, the dress, the time. A plan perfectly orchestrated.

“I worry sometimes that you have the wrong idea of me, [Y/N],” he posits, glibly. “You seem tense.”

You stop yourself from placing another mint in your mouth to look him in the eye. “Oh, it’s nothing, Mr. Sunday,” you lie, “It’s just been a while since we’ve been seated, and we’ve only been given drinks.”

“I have an inclination that our food will be out shortly.” “…But sir,” you question, “We haven’t ordered.” “Our reservation asked for orders at the time of scheduling,” Sunday smiles. “As I said before, everything is being taken care of for you.”

Your eyes drift to the other patrons: A patchwork mass of Halovians here, Pepeshi there, many of which are discussing unknowable things over their large menus. You tell yourself it’s nothing to worry about. Logically, Sunday must know something you don’t. Sunday must know a lot of things that you don’t.

Sunday watches the slight movements of your jaw as your tongue curls around the next mint in your mouth. The first mint in your mouth had lasted two minutes, the next forty seconds, and the final only twenty-five. Perhaps there was something you were trying to purify within yourself—the unease he found so tantalizing at this moment, a symptom of your delicious eagerness to please—that you hoped to extract from each mint, your cheeks sucking in a nearly imperceptible degree as you drained each one dry. Sunday could imagine himself reaching over across the table to open your mouth with his thumb, saliva pooling in your mouth from the way you were siphoning the little white tablets greedily, the delicate muscles in your face spasming and twitching as you shudder beneath his velvet touch.

If he was a lesser man...

"Don't spoil your appetite on those mints, darling," Sunday jokes. He can immediately see you tense up from the name, swallowing the tablet in your mouth. "My apologies, Mister Sunday."

...Boss or not...why the hell were you apologizing to him?

"I told you, Sunday is fine," he smiles. "...Do I frighten you?" "Excuse me?" Sunday tilts his head to the side the slightest bit, his cranial wings drooping. Still, even as he expresses his supposed concern, his smile doesn't fade.

"You seem frightened, dear," he coos. "If I'd known you would hate dinner with me so much, I wouldn't have asked you." Initially, you feel yourself overcome with guilt. He was spending all this money on you just for you to be so skittish... But that was never the point of the dinner meeting, right? You bite your lower lip, mulling over the possibility of getting the topic of tonight's dinner back to that of your work. You look askance, to the lack of plate right before you, and then to him. "It's just a concern I had regarding budgeting for the venue," you lie, "Some of the cost estimates you'd previously requested have changed since—" You stop when you feel something touch your ankle. Sunday has leaned in closer to you to place his shoe between your feet. You look down to where his shoe must be under the table—hidden by the long tablecloth—then to him, with that static smile still on his face. Not a hint wider than he would smile at anyone else. "Isn't it peculiar?" he asks. Sunday hasn't been listening to you whatsoever. "Look around the room. Each and every table here is surrounded by strangers. These figures around us are unknown to us, and likewise we are unknown to them." Even when it's not the point of what he's saying, you can still feel that sense of malice hidden behind Sunday's teeth when he refers to the folk of Penacony. Avaricious, calloused, snobbish and cruel. Corrupt is often the term he uses, with a bite that seems to imply he finds himself distinct from it. Like a single healthy cell surrounded by cancerous tumor. The outer side of his shoe draws a line up your calf, and he continues.

"Don't you find it fascinating that all these people may glance at us—pay us no more mind than what we pay to them—and have no idea what we are to each other? Most don't even know I have a secretary," he grins. "Perhaps I enjoy keeping you as my little secret." What he says is enough to keep you silent until your food arrives.

--- a/n: thanks so much for all the notes on the last installment, everyone! hopefully a bit of worldbuilding isn't a turn-off to any of you, i'm obsessed with penacony's jazz age inspirations just as much as i am with sunday xD just for the sake of keeping things cut up right, we'll end things off here lolol tag list: @j1yu425 @crepezinhos

#this guy is a freak. this guy is insane.#anyway part 3 is probably going to be when the smut begins lololol #hsr sunday #sunday x you #sunday x reader #sunday x y/n #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr x you #manipulative yandere #boss x reader #honkai sr #hsr #sunday's secretary

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odoraful · 1 year ago

Text

𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒

⟡ content: diluc/wanderer/childe x gn!reader; sfw; modern au; established relationship; fluff !! ⟡ a/n: i was scouring pinterest looking the most fitting inspo rooms for each of them hehe

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DILUC ⟡

Your shared home is an old-fashioned but charming house with a tiled roof and a brick archway leading to the entrance of the door. Diluc has a good eye for style — all the furniture pieces you select together are warm and elegant, perfectly matching with the vintage style home.

He’s a bit of a craftsman, and when you moved in he custom built bookshelves just for you. Your house has traces of Diluc’s handiwork: a wooden tissue box cover, tile coasters, a ceramic chess set.

Being a peak acts of service man, if he notices that there’s something inconveniencing you that can be mended, he’ll try to find a way to fix it. That wooden chair that wobbled yesterday when you sat down on it? The next day, it’s miraculously levelled. Always struggling to find your keys before you leave the house? There are now little hooks on the wall where you can easily hang them. He doesn’t make a huge show of it, but you’ll always kiss him on the cheek and say that you should repay him with something.

“There’s no need. Seeing you happy is more than enough for me.” He replies, running a hand through his hair, the tips of his ears turning red.

The house is IMPECCABLY cleaned — the chores are shared out between the two of you, and the both of you work like a well-oiled machine. He’ll insist that you shouldn’t carry anything too heavy though! He doesn’t want you to hurt yourself :(

One of the things that Diluc wouldn’t ever trade is getting the chance to cuddle with you in the evening on the couch. He’ll let you play with his hair and try out different styles, comforted by the feeling of your fingers running through it.

Sometimes, he’ll come home late from work tired and perhaps a bit grumpy, but the sight of you will change his mood completely.

At the sound of jangling keys and the front door creaking shut, you rush out of the bathroom and down the stairs.

“(Y/N), I’m home!” You hear Diluc’s voice call out to you.

The day had felt far too long for him, and with far too many headaches for him to deal with. The only thing that he looked forward to at the end of it all was to see you again.

Hearing the patter of your slippers, he looks up. It takes everything within him to keep composed at your appearance. Having just gotten out of a hot shower, your cheeks were tinted pink, hair still damp and slicked. Diluc’s eyes trailed to your clothes, a matching pair of flannel shirt and shorts. He loosens his tie, suddenly finding his breath stuck in his throat. It baffled him how gorgeous you were even in pyjamas.

Wordlessly, he reaches towards you. You look down at his hands and see as they fasten the remaining top two buttons of your sleeping shirt. In your hurry to greet him at the door, you forgot to dress properly.

“I can’t believe I missed that...” You sheepishly say, observing his hands as they linger on your shirt. Your senses told you something was off. “Did you have troubles at work today?”

The worry in your eyes melts his heart. Of course you were the one to peer through him and know exactly how he was feeling.

“A few clientele at the bar today were-” He sighs, still fidgeting with the fabric of your shirt, recalling the events of the day, “-difficult to manage to say the least.” He lifts his head to meet his gaze. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

Your arms instinctually wrap around him and he collapses into them. Tightening your embrace, he rests his head on your shoulder.

“Diluc, I just took a shower.” You say with a light giggle, trying to pull your hair away from his face.

He feels your breath close to his ear and he wishes he could have recorded that laugh for himself to hear it over and over again.

“I could tell.” He breathes deeply. “Is this a new shampoo?”

“Well yes, but what I meant from that is that my hair is still wet!”

You feel him smile against you. “It doesn’t bother me. Just a few more seconds, please. I need to recharge.”

WANDERER ⟡

You share an apartment together since you travel to and from the same university. Although you’re studying different degrees and have different schedules, you’ll both make an effort to spend time together at home during the weekdays.

You and Wanderer leave little notes cheering each other on and stick them to the walls or the fridge before you leave, or sneak them into pencil cases or onto laptop screens. He has a small box on his desk where he collects all your notes, neatly folding them up to preserve them.

Wanderer enjoys having the home quite minimalist. Just the essentials will do, but the two of you do splurge a bit more on your study space — the comfiest chairs, wide desks, tactile keyboards — anything to liven up having to do assignments all the time.

When you’re feeling too tired or distracted from your own studies, you’ll walk over to his desk and try to sit on his lap while he works. He’ll attempt to exert some self-control and reject your wishes, but eventually gives in after seeing your pout.

“Just because you’re distracted doesn’t give you any right to bother me.” He grumbles, resting his chin on your head.

He warns you that if you do decide to put plants in the house, you are responsible for them. Little do you know that he’s secretly also invested in their health. On mornings when you’re in a rush and forget to water them, he’ll spritz them with your spray bottle thinking to himself: If you died (Y/N) would be devastated, so don’t even think about it.

His favourite room is the bedroom. It’s a place for both of you to escape the stresses of being a student and relax together.

The alarm clock beeps and you wiggle in bed, reaching over a hand to quickly silence it. Bright sun filters in through the curtains, its light diffusing into the room.

You force your eyes open and sit up, your body bent over like a crooked branch. Movement beside you pulls your attention as Wanderer shifts in his sleep. You can’t deny how pretty he looks even at rest. His long lashes fanned out under closed eyes, the steady rise and fall of his chest with each deep breath. His expression is that of pure peace. You know that’ll soon disappear when you both need to properly wake up and prepare for classes.

“Hey, it’s time to wake up,” you whisper, carefully coaxing him from slumber.

Wanderer opens his bleary eyes ever so slightly, then immediately closes them. He mumbles something of refusal. You roll your eyes in resignation. When it comes to sleep, he acts like a child sometimes. You turn to get out of bed.

Two arms wrap around your waist and yank you back. You stumble into the sheets with a yelp. Wanderer adjusts the blanket over you and pulls you closer to him with one hand.

“Not yet.” His voice is low and scratchy, his words slurred. “Want more time in bed… with you.”

You sigh softly, absentmindedly running a hand through his hair to detangle it. “You do this almost every morning. You’re never going to attend your lectures on time.”

He replies by nuzzling into your neck, and you hear nothing but his slow breaths. His peers would have sooner called identity fraud than believe the stony and scholarly Wanderer to be this clingy and affectionate in the morning. However, in the privacy of just you, it’s become easy for him to let down his guard.

“Don’t try to get out of this by pretending to be asleep.” You say, deadpan.

There’s a stutter in his breathing as you catch his obvious charade.

“Stop worrying. I’ll just watch the recording.” He finally responds.

You realise in a fluster just how close your faces are, barely inches apart. As if sensing this, Wanderer opens his eyes once again, this time there’s a glint of mischief in them.

He taps his forehead lightly against your own. “And besides, why would I want to spend my mornings in a noisy lecture hall when I can be with you in peace and quiet?”

CHILDE ⟡

You’ve been living together for a while now, and your home has transformed into what can only be described as organised chaos.

If Childe kept up with his interior designing eagerness, it would have been complete maximalism, but you were there to contain his excitement and still ensure your home was still practical.

The two of you love collecting pillows, plushies and blankets, which adds even more to the cosiness! However, one day you tried to sit down on the couch and realised it was more pillows than actual seat space. In a fit of laughter, you and Childe ruled that you would rotate between different cushions every so often so you could get your couch back.

Childe will still come home with flowers or sweets (sometimes both) as gifts for you on random nights. He’ll stand on the doorstep looking like a lovesick teenage boy asking his crush out on a date. Taking them from his hands, you’ll ask what the occasion is.

“Well, there isn’t a particular occasion.” He kisses you on the forehead. “Celebrating you should be an everyday thing.”

Board game nights are taken very seriously. You have a bookshelf filled with different types of them. Whether it’s a classic game of UNO or Jenga, or something a little more strategic, he's always hyper-competitive. You also have special punishments for if one of you loses, which are harmless but maybe a little embarrassing (One of his favourite punishments for you is ‘For the entire day tomorrow, Childe will only call (Y/N) by the cheesiest pet names’).

MASSIVE kitchen since he loves to cook. He keeps a book of recipes from his mum and has since added new ones of his own that he has shared with you.

“Could you come over here, baby?”

You follow your partner’s voice and the scent of something freshly baked into the kitchen.

Childe is standing behind the counter, his face in deep focus. He takes one of an array of heart-shaped biscuits and dips half of it in a bowl of chocolate before placing it on a lined baking sheet. The sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up, exposing his forearms. His muscular build is sharply juxtaposed by the cream-coloured apron tied around himself, which has a little teddy bear embroidered in its centre.

You approach the kitchen bench, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Are they ready yet? Can I try one?” You eagerly ask.

“Not quite, I need help dipping the rest of these into chocolate.” He stretches his arms out in front of him, shaking the tension out of them.

“That being said,” he grins, extending a hand towards you across the kitchen bench as an offer, “would you do me the honour of being my baking assistant for a little?”

Chuckling at his dramatics, you delicately place your hand in his like royalty. “I’d be delighted to help.”

Childe guides you to his side and helps you put on your apron. As he ties the strings together, he relays the instructions to you.

“You just need to dip half of the biscuit into chocolate, and then add some sprinkles on top before it sets.” He tightens the bow around your waist to secure it.

How hard could that be? You think, nodding along to his words.

Demoing an example, Childe deftly coats half of the biscuit. Angling it just right, the chocolate drips off and evens itself out, leaving a perfect covered half. After placing it on the tray and adding the finishing touch of sprinkles, he gestures for you to try it yourself.

You confidently take one biscuit and dunk it.

“Ah!”

Underestimating its consistency, when you lift the biscuit, the chocolate slowly spreads onto the other half of the heart and drips onto your fingers. You quickly place it onto the baking sheet. Childe stifles his laugh, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

“My one looks so much worse compared to yours…” you mutter, licking your fingers to remove the evidence of your unsuccessful attempt.

Seeing the frown on your face, he gently bumps your shoulder with his own in encouragement. “Don’t say that! I think your one has a lot more charm.” He says, adding the sprinkles onto your heart. “I’ll run some extra baking classes with you to build up your skills, how does that sound?”

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 months ago

Note

thinking about a hybrid wolf hair dresser/ barber that would NEVER work on human hair.. but as they see more of you in public, they're more and more willing to make an exception for yours. not really a request lol just pitching an idea if you want to use it or change it up somehow! love your work!!

Yandere Wolf Hybrid Hair Stylist

Rules | Kofi | Masterlist

Fashionable with the fairest mane around Emile is the envy of hybrids and humans alike

He adores throwing on something flashy and doing a hair flip whenever the opportunity presents itself

He’s just so good at what he does

He only takes the highest quality clients

The Lion-Hybrid Talk Show host

The celebrity sheep-hybrid

The list goes on…but only with very select traits

Fame and being a hybrid

All the things that will have The Emile Farehaire even looking in any client’s direction

And yet when you happen to pass him while doing hair for a movie he’s enraptured

It’s likely because you’ve been working and you didn’t have time to tame your bed-head this time around

If you can believe it the first time he sees you and your mop of unruly hair he turns his nose up and continues walking

“Hmph humans. Given so little hair and they still look terrible!”

You’d think after working on seven different clients a day he’d forget all about the human assistant he happens to see passing by

…and yet…he can’t seem to

The second time he’s surprised to feel his beautifully conditioned and brushed tail wagging when he sees you again with that stupidly greasy hair

“What a look. Maybe try my hair care line, then maybe you’ll look better!”

He was being mean, he knew that

But in his mind, he’s already seen it played out

You’ll stop and glare, turning to shove your clawless little finger into his chest while you reprimand him

And of course, he’d smile with superiority as he pulls a stray strand of your unruly hair while he mocks you again

Of course he’d let you whine before relenting and inviting you into his chair

“A charity client,” he’d say and from then on you’d silently be grateful behind that witty banter you two will always have

Except…it doesn’t happen this way at all

You just…keep walking

Whether you’ve got earbuds or genuinely thinking of the hundreds of tasks you have to get done

You just don’t respond so Emile is standing flustered while he thinks he’s been ignored

And now instead of catching up on all the latest gossip from his regular he’s mentally debating if you purposefully ignored him and how on this good green earth was he going to get your attention

First things first he has to get your name

In all his delusions+ imagines he’d never got your name

So it’s a given that he’ll ask his assistant or a chatty client in passing

“Oh (Y/n)? Yeah they work harder than anybody and–”

“(Y/n)...that’s their name…could you tell me more?”

“Oh, can I? Just the other day–”

After that he just can’t seem to stop

The voice of reason rings out less and less as he reconnects with his more primitive instincts

Instead of ‘turning off’ his sense of smell for all the specific products he uses he keeps it on

Using it to tell where he should conveniently stretch his legs so that he can bump into you

Or how typically he’d pin his ears down to avoid the sound of the blow dryer now he’s keeping up and at attention when he sees you excuse yourself from the group to take a call

Even with all of that, he seems to have even more trouble actually getting to do your hair

“I really think you should give this treatment a try. It would do wonders for your hair type! Even I could do it for you!”

“With your rates? No thanks appreciate the thought though.”

“W-what about a discount? I can do one just for you!”

“Nah I couldn’t do that to you.”

*Whimper*

At one point whether or not you’ve finally combed your hair or done a different hairstyle

He’s just got to have you in his chair!

So of course he decides he’s going to have to put a little more effort into this

Maybe do what his ancestors did and pursue the hunt a little more

So he’ll get even more info finally using the money he’s got to good use

His closet can spare one empty space for your address

Maybe a house visit will convince you to finally let him do your hair

Maybe more

Whatever he has to do to finally get his claws in your hair

Maybe then he’ll satiate that urge to lock you away

So he can stop wagging his tail when you look at him

To stop that urge to howl near your place when he’s certain all others can hear

Or maybe it won’t and he’ll just have to fabulously have you as his mate

Whether you want it or not

Enjoy my little ugly doodles of Emile! Thank you Anon, I'm really happy you do! 🖤🖤🖤🖤

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yanderes #yandere #yandere wolf hybrid hair stylist #yandere wolf #yandere wolf hybrid #yandere male x reader #yandere male x you #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere hybrids x reader #yandere hybrid #yandere male #yandere hair stylist

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naughtyneganjdm · 29 days ago

Text

Closer

Summary: Being new to town, Y/N visits an old fashioned diner where one of the employees, Butch Slater, catches her eye. After their first meeting, she can't help but shake the feeling that she is being followed every night. When they finally have another encounter, it reveals secrets from her past and the truth about Butch Slater.

Characters: Butch Slater & reader (OC, third person)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63811372

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, female reader, very horror themed, oral, bloody play, choking, smacking, spanking, knife play, unprotected p in v, rough sex, toxic relationship, ass play, anal, dubious consent, reader is a bit of a freak, depictions of Butch's kills, etc.

Notes: I had @meiplays ask me to write this and I started to write it a while ago, had life get in the way and then finally finished it. The italics in the story are meant as a flashback.

Moving to a new town was never easy for people, but it was something that Y/N felt like she had been doing her whole life. So it was never something she felt like she had a problem with. It was easy for her to fit in. All it took was finding the ‘it’ person for her and she was able to get along with people in that town like she had known them her whole life. That was her talent. Fitting in. Mostly because she had to.

“You should really stop staring,” one of her co-workers spoke from across the table they were sitting at in the local diner of the new city she had just moved to. The co-worker looked over their shoulder in the direction that Y/N had been staring to see the employee that was working the grill cooking the burgers. “You’re not supposed to focus on people’s scars. It’s rude.”

“I’m not…” she felt her throat go dry when the sound of a bell being rang had her sitting up straight at the booth they were seated in. “I’m not staring at his scar. It’s not even that big of a scar.”

Looking back toward the cook that was there, she felt her throat go dry while he prepared the next order. The sound of oil sizzling when he dropped something into the fryer had her jumping and the person sitting beside her laughed.

“You’re jumpy,” the co-worker teased causing her to let out a stressed breath. Still watching the cook, she took notice of how clean he looked. Dressed in all white with a black bow tie and black gloves on. It was meant to match the old diner that he was working at, but for a cook, he kept himself phenomenally clean. Lifting her stare to gaze upon his profile, she felt her throat go dry seeing the hint of his prominent dimples. A moment later, the cook turned and his hazel eyes met hers forcing her to look away. “What is it with him?”

“Nothing,” she lied, waving her hand about when the others laughed at her reaction toward the man behind the counter that was no question older than her.

“You’re not turned off by him, you’re actually turned on by the poor sap, aren’t you?” one of them spoke causing a round of laughter to burst out amongst the table provoking her to grow hot at the idea of them making fun of her. “If his face wasn’t already a mess by that scar eating up the upper right side of his face, how large do you think that age gap is?”

“There is nothing wrong with his face,” she defended him from afar, forcing herself to look down toward the table while the rest of those sitting at the table eyed over the cook. “And so what? A lot of people have daddy kinks and are into older men. I’m suddenly the only one that you’re going to mock?”

“Y/N, the only reason he works here is probably because he can’t get a job anywhere else with that gnarly scar over the side of his face,” one of them mentioned, sucking in a sharp breath when he got a good look at the scar that was near the cook’s temple and eyebrow area. “Then again, you aren’t going to find many job selections here with people dropping like flies.”

“What’s that?” she asked, smirking when the cook looked back at her again with his right eyebrow arching in curiosity. A salt and pepper colored beard covered his chiseled jawline. His graying hair was messy in comparison to everything else that was pristine on him.

“Oh come on. This town is known for people dying. You had to know that’s why you got such a good deal on the house that you did. The company is just desperate to get anyone with a college degree to work here. So they probably kept that information that people die like crazy here from you,” another one piped in, grunting when they noticed that she had locked eyes with the cook. In the moment she should have been listening to them tell her about the history of the town, but she was too busy gazing upon the older man that she had been looking upon earlier. “Why don’t you just call him over here?”

“Stop,” she frowned, burying her head into the palm of her hand when one of them whistled loudly. “Please don’t.”

Snapping their fingers had her groaning out when they managed to get the attention of the cook. With an odd expression, the man headed over toward the table and in his hand he was still carrying the cleaver that he had been using to cut things with.

“What can I do to help you fine folks?” he gave a half smile, his eyes falling upon Y/N when she dropped her hand slowly from her eyes. With a scrutinizing look, his eyes narrowed and he gazed upon her as if trying to remember something. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“You know, I was gonna ask you the same thing,” one of her co-workers spoke up having the cook’s eyebrows bounce up in amusement when he turned his head slightly to get a look at him. “I feel like I’ve seen your face somewhere, but I can’t place it.”

“I just have one of those faces,” the cook suggested with a grunt getting a few stray laughs from the table. Hearing them respond that way had his thick eyebrows bouncing up and a half smirk tugged at his features.

“Trust me Scar, your face is one someone wouldn’t forget,” her co-worker retorted provoking her to smack her hand down in over the center of the table causing all of them at the booth to jump. There was anger in her face that her co-worker shamed the cook for his physical deformity.

“Don’t call him that,” she demanded with an angered breath getting a snort from the co-worker that attacked the cook. “He has a name.”

“Ah, don’t worry. I don’t mind. But my name is Butch. Butch Slater,” he introduced himself, using his free hand to place it in over the center of his chest. A few of her co-workers snickered at his name and he managed to give one of them a side eye. “Is there something I can help you folks with?”

“Yeah Butch, Y/N here wants to know if you’re single,” the co-worker that had called out originally to him smacked at the center of her back causing her to tense up in frustration. “Apparently, she likes your look and is into older men. So how about it Butch? Are you taken?”

“Only by my job,” Butch responded, dragging his tongue out across his bottom lip when he heard the sound of someone calling out to him. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

“I can’t believe you guys did that,” she sighed after Butch walked away from the table to go back to work. Lowering her head in embarrassment, she hated the way that they were acting. “It’s so damn immature.”

“Nah, I think that was a good thing,” the co-worker that called him Scar spoke up. “I think he’s a creep. You should really stay away from him.”

“I think you’re a creep,” she balled up a napkin and tossed it at them, noticing that out of the corner of her eye that Butch was staring out at her. Their eyes locked and he bit down on his bottom lip. Forcing herself to look away, she went back listening to the others at the table talking, but she couldn’t help but be embarrassed with the way her co-workers treated Butch.

After that whole experience, she was eager to go home. During her walk home, she got the strangest feeling that she was being followed. But she realized that was a normal feeling she had since she made it to this town. That feeling of being followed always lingered, but you would look behind you and no one was there. It was just an eerie town.

Days passed after that moment at the diner. The one thing she did realize? The longer she was in that town, the more murders she was noticing. They weren’t kidding when they told her people dropped like flies here. It especially got strange in the coming days when a few of her co-workers were at the opposite end of a brutal attack. And that’s when she started to really pay attention. That sensation of being followed only increased for her.

On this night? She found herself walking home quicker than normal. Most of her walk home, she heard footsteps following her. Desperately she tried to convince herself that she was paranoid. That this was nothing other than a coincidence, but it did seem ironic that it was all of her co-workers that were winding up dead.

Once she got into her house, she was swift to lock up all the doors and windows. Heading into her kitchen, she let out a tense breath when she noticed that one of her drawers was open. One thing about Y/N? She was meticulous. That drawer was not open when she left this morning. Swallowing down hard, she eyed over the phone that was at the corner of the room.

Turning on her heel to reach for it, she felt the power of someone grabbing a hold of her making her hiss out. Falling backwards, she breathed unevenly when the strength of an arm wrapped around her neck. Struggling to stay up on her feet, she felt her body being dragged backwards toward the middle of the kitchen away from the phone.

“You’re something else,” a raspy voice grunted from behind her. What followed was the tip of a sharp kitchen knife digging at the flesh of her neck right under her jawline. “You’re a hard one to follow, y’know that?”

“Obviously not that hard,” she exhaled loudly, trying to push herself up onto her feet. Grunting out, an incredible amount of force spun her around. Fingers dug into her jaw causing her to wince with the pressure. A firm shove had her stumbling back and falling in over the center of her kitchen table. Items fell from the table when her eyes finally locked with Butch’s. He looked like he had the last time she had seen him. Wearing his pristine, white uniform that matched the older diner aesthetic. His eyelids were heavy while he stared down at her. By his steady breathing, she could tell that he wasn’t nervous or anxious at all. He was used to this kind of thing. Hissing out, she felt his fingers curling firmly around her throat.

“I remember you,” he grunted, dragging the blade slightly down the side of her face drawing out a wince from her as a line of blood followed. “It may have been a few years, but you’re not easy to forget. The moment I saw you, I knew…”

“You knew what?” she panted, her fingers curling around his wrist. Attempting to get up just led to him strengthening his grasp on her throat. By how strong the force was, it made her release a pained sound.

“You’re the one that got away,” he slurred, lowering down to drag the length of his tongue along the line of blood that was left over the side of her face from where he had cut her. Humming out, he gave her an arrogant smile and bobbed his head about. “Your hair may be different, but you haven’t changed much. I knew then it was stupid to leave you in that diner. I should have known you’d come looking for me.”

FIVE YEARS AGO

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” the frat boy Y/N had gotten into a fight with spat, leaving a line of blood dripping from his bottom lip. An arm was wrapped around Y/N’s waist pulling her back and away from the havoc that she caused. After a group of friends followed her out of the diner into the parking lot to harass her, it led to them getting in a fight. When the girls unsuccessfully attacked her, the men that were in the group took their shot. One of them ended up with a broken arm and on the ground in agony after she kicked him in the balls. The last one had grabbed her from behind and she had bit his arm to the point of breaking the skin before managing to bite at his bottom lip when he tried to choke her. “You’re done. You’re finished. Do you know who I am?”

“Enough,” Butch’s voice demanded of Y/N while she kicked in his arms trying to get at the last remaining man standing in the group after she kicked all of their asses.

“Yeah, you hold that crazy bitch back,” the boy scoffed, wiping at his bottom lip realizing there was an extraordinary amount of blood coming from the area she bit him. “We’re gonna get the police up here and deal with this.”

“Good luck with that. As far as I can tell this was self-defense,” Butch kept his arm firmly wrapped around Y/N’s waist while she fought him every step of the way. With his free hand, he pointed toward the old camera that was on the corner of the building. “That’s at least how the cops will see it when they get the footage.”

“Fuck you man. You two were made for each other,” the boy scrambled to reach for his friends working to get them up from the ground.

“I said enough!” Butch snarled at Y/N with her still trying to get at the boy threatening her. Squeezing his arm firmly around her showed that he meant it and she unhurriedly began to relax in his arms. Leading her back into the empty diner with him, he led her over toward one of the stools and forced her to sit down. “What was all of that out there? I thought those kids were your friends.”

“Fuck them, they’re all assholes,” she grunted under her breath, her eyes following Butch’s movement as he walked around the counter to reach for a clean cloth. Running it under the water, he moved back around to take a seat in front of her. Wiping at the cut that was under her eye had her wincing sharply and he smiled.

“How much of this is you?” Butch stammered dragging his thumb across her bottom lip that was covered with blood. Getting a closer look, he could tell that it wasn’t hers and it made him snicker. “You are a ball of fucking fire. Aren’t you?”

“I didn’t like the way they were treating you,” she explained swallowing down hard with Butch wiping at her bottom lip to get the blood from it.

“Why do you care so much?” Butch huffed, dropping his hand down at his side while still clinging to the cloth that was in his hand.

“Why do you care so little?” she countered, frowning at the idea of him consistently blowing off the way that the college kids in town treated him. They often frequented that diner because it was so close to the school and open later. And after seeing Butch, she was enamored with him. With his quiet nature and his ruggedly handsome good looks.

“Because I know they will get theirs,” he informed her shaking his head with his thick eyebrows furrowing. It had her huffing out and an involuntary smile tugged at his features. “I don’t worry about those things.”

“Well, I like you and I don’t like the way they treat you,” she alerted him, leaning against the counter when he stood up again and went to grab ice for her to put on her face.

“Why?” he inquired, lowering back down to his seat and outstretching his hand to place the ice in over her face.

“Because it’s wrong and it makes them assholes,” she scoffed eliciting him to chuckle again with the bridge of his nose wrinkling. “What?”

“I mean why do you like me?” he wondered, biting at his bottom lip when she grabbed a hold of the ice and put it to her face. “You know nothing about me.”

“I just can sense a presence in you,” she answered him, tipping her head to the side when she looked him over in the old-fashioned outfit that they had him in. “I think we’re kindred spirits.”

“I think you are so very wrong my dear,” he snorted, leaning back in his seat causing her to frown. “You have no idea what I’m like.”

“And yet, you’re drawn to me too,” she suggested setting the ice down on the counter beside her.

“Because you’re a customer,” he reminded her, getting up from the seat and moving around the counter again. Placing his hands on the edge of the counter, he stretched them out and braced his weight. “You’re a college student. I’m an adult. There’s quite an age gap between us.”

“I’m an adult too, thank you. I can drink,” she defended herself, getting an amused rumble in return from Butch.

“I’m not someone to be interested in,” he warned her, leaning back and folding his arms out in front of his chest. “I’m not really someone to get involved with people. Relationships, sex…it’s not my thing.”

“What is your thing?” she asked, genuinely interested since he seemed to be doing his best to blow her off.

“Murders mostly,” he answered her leaving a moment of silence between them until he cracked a smile. Rolling her eyes, she shook her head and went back to icing her face. “I really am a killer when it comes to relationships.”

“Well, maybe you haven’t found the right girl,” she thought aloud, standing up from the seat that she was in to head over toward the open area of the counter to move behind it.

“Customers aren’t supposed to be back here,” he educated her on the rules, pointing over toward the sign that was up on the wall. It made her snicker when she stood before him. Outstretching her hand, she placed it in over the center of his chest and made him suck in a sharp breath of air. “What are you doing?”

“Testing something,” she whispered, closing the distance between them. It was obvious when she pressed their bodies together that he was tense. Tipping up on her toes, she hovered her lips in over his having his eyelids growing heavy. The sound of his breathing grew louder and it made her smile. Faintly dragging her bottom lip in against his had his long eyelashes fluttering to a close. Starting off slow, she continued to press tender kisses there. Balancing her hand in over the center of his chest made him groan out when he finally started to kiss her back. His right hand lifted, his fingers grabbed a tight hold of her jaw as the kiss grew in strength. Snaking her hand between them, she palmed in over the front of his white pants drawing out a low rumble of a groan. “You’re getting hard. So I don’t believe you.”

“This doesn’t usually happen,” he explained, looking between the two of them when she started working open his belt. Swallowing down hard, he leaned in to nip faintly at her bottom lip. The sound of her purring out drew chills down his spine. “Is this what you do? Find older men to take advantage of?”

“Just you…” she hovered her lips in over his again, whimpering out when he hungrily stole a kiss from her with his tongue brushing out against hers. Managing to get his pants open, she reached inside to palm over his body through the material of his white boxer briefs that clung to his body. Tugging at the waistband and pulling downward allowed his hardening erection to bounce free. “Oh…wow.”

“Mhmm…” he hummed, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat when she lowered down to her knees in front of him. Licking her lips, she curled her fingers around the base of his girthy length. Lifting up enough on her knees, she brought the swollen tip to her lips and started to press wet kisses at the sensitive flesh. Staring down at her, he seemed emotionless in the moment as if he was trying to prove something to himself. By the time she took him into her mouth, it had his lips parting with his head tipping slightly back. Bracing his hand back on the counter behind him, his fingers curled firmly around the edge of it. There was no rushing this. She was incredibly focused on pampering the first few inches at first. Bobbing her head unhurriedly over him before pulling back, making sure to drag her tongue along the underside of his shaft. When her tongue would drag across the area where the underside of the tip met the shaft, it had his hips flexing forward toward her. “Fuck.”

Closing his eyes, Butch licked his lips and hummed out when she started to take more of him into her throat. They were confident, determined movements with her tongue lapping at his body working hard to get him near an orgasm. When he finally let out the first raspy moan, it sent chills down her spine. Working his pants down further with a tug, she used her free hand that wasn’t wrapped around his cock to caress at his testicles getting his thighs to flex at the sensation.

Wincing out, she felt his fingers sinking into her hair making sure he had a firm hold of it. In that moment, she felt the force of him pushing her further down his cock taking back a majority of him into her throat. With a gagging sound, her eyes slammed shut and she reached up to grab at his hips.

“Relax your throat,” he instructed, forcing her further down until her nose was buried against his groin. Moaning out, he kept her there with her turning a light shade of red. Her eyes were getting wet and by the time he finally let her go, she pulled away from his cock with a wet sound. Gasping for air left his hard cock bobbing in her face after what he had just pulled. Instead of stopping, she just caught her breath and then got back on her knees. This time she was a bit rougher in the way she gave him a blowjob working with both her hands and her mouth. Cussing out, he tipped his head back with his hands shakily trembling with how meticulous she was being in attempting to get him to come. The sound of something hitting the floor was heard and she look to see that it was the chef’s knife. “Don’t worry about it, don’t stop.”

Doing as she was instructed, she continued to pleasure him with his hips starting to bounce up toward her movements. Gratifying her with the most addictive sounding moans had her keeping up with the pace. Grasping at the back of her head, he didn’t force her this time to take more than she could handle. He just wanted to hold onto something.

Watching her closely, he could see her eyes slam shut when the first sign of his orgasm hit the back of her throat. Continuing to swallow around his cock had him bucking his hips up toward her. She wasn’t lacking, swallowing down every last drop of his come until he pulled her away from him with a wet popping sound filling the air.

What surprised her was how quickly he was pushing himself back into his pants and working them together. His breathing was still broken, but he appeared to be upset that he let things happen like that, “You need to leave.”

“Did I do something wrong?” she questioned gazing up at him with her big eyes. His eyes dropped to her wet lips and his Adam’s apple bounced uncomfortably in his throat. Reaching down, he grabbed a hold of her and firmly pulled her up from the ground.

“I said you need to leave,” he repeated with a hiss, pulling back together the belt in his pants. When she wasn’t leaving, he hooked his arm around hers and led her toward the door. “I said leave!”

“You didn’t have as much gray back then,” she reminded him, getting his hazel eyes to narrow when instead of being scared she gave him a smile. “Nor did you have that scar.”

“Well shit happens,” he grunted, his fingers curling around her neck firmly in attempts to bring her to a panic over the fact that her life laid in his hands. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t look panicked, at all. Instead she just seemed amused which only interested him more. “How about you? Do you still have your scar?”

Keeping her down with his fingers curled around her throat, he set the knife aside and reached for the bottom of her shirt to push it up her abdomen. Like he remembered it, there was a scar left over her abdomen that made her suck in a sharp breath when his rough fingertips dragged across the flesh.

“You left me there to die,” she reminded him causing him to smirk with his thick eyebrows bouncing up as his stare lifted to her. “You stabbed me and then you left me in that building as it was burning to the ground.”

“Please don’t,” the frat boy that had threatened Y/N begged for his life with Butch standing over him. The woosh of the flames starting to grow around them made Butch take a quick look back at the fire that he started. After Butch had forced his co-worker’s face into the burning oil in the kitchen, the body had fallen causing the oil to spill out and easily start a fire in the diner. Scrambling backwards, the frat boy was whimpering when Butch started to approach him further. Butch had already made his way through all of his co-workers along with the other college students that had joined the frat boy in the diner today. Looking around, the frat boy searched for anything that could help him since he knew that he couldn’t overpower Butch. Strangely enough he had learned rather quickly that even though Butch was skinny, he was incredibly strong. “Why are you doing this?”

Silence followed, “Is this because I hit that bitch? Is that why you’re doing this? You’re angry that we ganged up on her?”

Again nothing. And it only made the frat boy whine more when he felt the booth slamming into his back from him crawling backwards. He couldn’t slide back any further, “Listen, do you want money? I can get you money. My father is rich as fuck. I can get you whatever you want. I promise we can…”

Cracking a smile, Butch raised his hand up bringing attention to the cleaver that he was holding onto. In that moment, the frat boy was going to continue to beg, but instead a final, firm swing of the cleaver left it buried in the flesh of the young man’s neck with a squelching sound filling the air. Admiring his work, Butch chuckled and pulled the cleaver out. The tugging motion caused a spray of blood to cover Butch’s white outfit in the dark crimson color. The sound of the body hitting the ground hard was heard when the puddle of blood started to surround Butch’s white sneakers.

A scratching metallic sound filled the air forcing Butch to look away from his last kill. Smirking, Butch’s eyebrow arched in curiosity when he headed over toward the table at the center of the diner. Using his strength, he flipped the table over and heard the gasp of Y/N when he found her hiding underneath it.

“Please,” she begged when he knelt down before her, his eyebrows furrowing when she looked toward the multiple bodies surrounding them.

Truthfully, she looked more battered than he would have liked her to be. Her right eye was swollen. There was a wound over her eyebrow that was bleeding extensively. And her bottom lip was split. When she came into the diner today, Butch had ignored her, which is what he had been doing since she had given him a blowjob that night. Instead of making a big deal of it, she ordered a soda and started studying in her normal booth. That’s really what started all of this. The group that Y/N had attacked the other night had come to the diner knowing that she would be there. And the boys had brought some of their friends from the fraternity. When they approached the table, Y/N made some sort of wise crack at them before they all started to gang up on her and attack her.

Originally, Butch had planned to drag this whole thing out, but it was all too easy when everyone was in the same place at once. Going to stretch out his hand had her shuddering away from him. What she had obviously seen was him killing everyone and it made him smile. “Please don’t.”

“I knew you were going to be my star as soon as you walked into the place,” Butch explained, licking his lips and giving her an arrogant smile. Humming out, he nodded over toward one of the cameras that was hanging up. Confused, she looked up in the direction wincing as Butch dragged his thumb out across her bottom lip to collect some of her blood. Bringing it up to his lips, Butch sucked the metallic taste from his thumb and then groaned. “The fans are just gonna love you. Your badass attitude. How hard you fought. How your want to protect me is what led to your downfall. Oh they are gonna eat it up…”

Outstretching his fingers, Butch grabbed the chef’s knife that was laid out across the floor that was dripping with blood. Wiggling his fingers at her, he motioned her forward getting her to let out a panting sound, “I wasn’t sure if you were gonna be a hard sell at first. The audience always loves the good girl, but then you proved you were a bit of a skank when you blew me. And as you know, in any good horror movie, the slut always has to die.”

Hooking his fingers into her hair, he yanked her head back and swallowed down hard when she winced, “But, then again…I came to realize that you weren’t the slut. No, I actually believed you when you told me I was the only man you threw yourself at. It didn’t take long for me to find out about the abuse you took when you were young from your piece of shit father. It explains your feelings toward me. Your rage. Your want to be accepted by an older man. An older man that you hardly know.”

“Star?” she finally spoke up, looking back toward the camera again shaking her head when he pressed in closer to her. “This…this is real life. Not some sick and twisted movie Butch.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Butch brought the blade up to his temple with a wicked smirk. Holding his hands out dramatically, he shook his head and sucked in a sharp breath of air. “This? This is the Hot Grease Massacre Part Two. Now with the first film, there were no standout characters. No one was really likeable. There were the typical helpless woman leads that deep down no one wants to root for. But you? You’re going to give them that hope. That want to see you live. It is gonna sell big.”

Crying out, she felt Butch tug her head back further when the sound of something exploding in the background was heard. With a dramatic expression, he looked back to her and gave her a large, wicked smirk.

“Of course, it’s gonna end the same exact way as the last. No survivors,” he informed her hearing the fear in the way that she was breathing when she tried to crawl back and away from him, but he wouldn’t allow her. “But they will get over it. It will last for a short time until they want their next fix of brutal murders and blood.”

“I don’t care that you killed these people,” she insisted, her lips parting with Butch tipping his head to the side. “I hate them anyways, I told you that I thought we were kindred spirits. You just did what I’ve always wanted to do but never had the strength to.”

“So now you’re a little serial killer in the making?” he prodded at her, pulling her into his arms, getting her to press her back against his chest. Wrapping his arm firmly around her throat had her whimpering out with her fingers curling around his arm.

“I really liked you,” she reminded him with a tremoring breath pulling out an amused rumble from his throat.

“Oh, I know and that blowjob is something I won’t soon forget. It’s not often that I find myself actually attracted to my stars,” he stated, dragging his tongue up over the line of her blood that was sliding down her face. A tremoring breath escaped her when he looked toward the camera again. “I think the blowjob is gonna be a great add to the film. People love sex and violence. You really did me a favor there. I don’t usually care for sex, so I wouldn’t have thought to put that in the movie. Nah, I don’t get off to the idea of fucking. I get more pleasure from getting to rewatch my kills. So you were a surprise.”

Lining the large knife up at the center of her chest had her gasping out when he raised it just enough, “What do you think? A swift plunge to the heart? It resembles a broken heart. I think it would be a beautiful ending if you ask me. A life full of pain. Your heart finally getting the last break.”

“You don’t have to do this,” she blurt out when it seemed like he was in fact going to stab her in the heart and it made him stop. “You can take me with you. I’ve got nothing here anyways. I hate everyone and everything.”

“I’m not ready for a sidekick yet,” he hushed her, stroking his thumb along the curve of her jawline. “Nah. I don’t think people would be ready for that.”

With a grunt, he felt the sensation of her biting into his arm and he groaned out when his grasp loosened from her. Taking advantage, she scrambled to her feet and ran for the door letting out a disappointed sound when it was locked. Hitting at it over and over again only brought out the most bone chilling laugh from Butch.

“I’m glad you’re fighting. I was worried after they attacked you that this would be all too easy for me,” he stood up from the ground, clutching tightly to the knife that was in his hand. “The chase is the best and most thrilling part.”

“Give me a chance to prove myself,” she begged of him, using chairs to put a distance between them. It had him dodging them when they moved throughout the diner. Half of it was burning down and she knew that there was nowhere for her to run. “You don’t scare me. I still like you and I think we can make this work. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” he hushed her with a tip of his head. “I’m just gonna hurt you.”

“Why? Because you like me? And that goes against your rules?” she snapped at him, getting around one of the larger tables having him staring out at her from the other side of it. “Someone comes along and actually makes you feel something for them so you have to make an example of them? Prove to yourself that you don’t have feelings for them?”

“You’re not gonna talk your way out of it,” he stressed to her, going to move around the table but she was quick to circle the table before heading back toward the counter. When she scrambled behind it, he swiftly followed after her letting out a disappointed breath when she held up the handgun that the owner had kept there. “Oh, that was smooth. Lemme guess, you saw that when you were down on your knees?”

Going to approach her had her shooting the gun in his direction, but purposely missing provoking him to let out a deep rumble of an amused breath, “Didn’t you ever hear that you shouldn’t bring a knife to a gun fight?”

“Oh, I like that. Maybe I’ll put that on the sleeve for the video tape,” he was amused with her comment holding his hands up with a shrug of his shoulders. “Go ahead. Shoot me.”

There was a long pause when the sound of some of the roofing falling down was heard. It only distracted her for a moment before she turned back to him again. Lowering the gun had him giving her a strange expression, “I’m using this as a gesture to prove to you what I mean. I don’t want to kill you. And whatever you are doing here? I want part of it. I have nothing to go back to unless I want to appease my abuser for the rest of my life. You’re the first person I’ve felt a connection to in a long time. I think you feel the same. You have a want to protect me.”

“I’ve been planning to kill you this whole time,” he smirked, tipping his head to the side with his eyes narrowing out at her. “It only hurts more when the person you thought you cared for turns out to be the man that is gonna kill you. Doesn’t it?”

“So you’re going to kill the one person that is the most like you?” she wondered, her face twisting with confusion. “You had the chance to kill me the other night when I was doing what I did, but you didn’t. You could have just let me die tonight, but you stopped them from killing me. You like me. And I think finding out about my past makes you want to protect me more.”

Setting the gun down on the counter, she pushed it out and away from her having Butch’s face scrunching up. Closing the distance between her and Butch had him tensing up before her. Shakily placing her hand in over the center of his chest she went to move in to kiss him but he stopped her. Instead he stared out at her and gave a big smile after a long moment.

“A final kiss never hurt,” he declared, lowering down enough to bring their lips together in a passionate sweep.

The warmth of the diner burning around them was hot, but instead of worrying about the potential of blowing up along with this building, he continued to kiss her. The taste of her blood still lingered on her lips, but as he brushed his tongue out against hers he didn’t seem to have a care in the world about that. Tipping his head back slightly, his eyelids were heavy while he stared down at her. Right now, he was speechless. And that didn’t happen much. How that kiss made him feel had him thinking things out.

Stepping in closer to her, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his head in against the side of her neck. Placing the knife above her back where he knew he would get her heart, he felt her fingers stroking at the back of his neck where the curls of hair were.

“You can teach me. You don’t have to be alone through all of this,” she whispered pressing a kiss against his earlobe, getting him to lower the knife. “I can help you. We can find a new place and…”

A gasp filled the air when her body jolted. An immense pain filled her lower abdomen and she dropped her head to see the blood that was now covering her light-colored shirt along with his hand. Butch had taken his time to bury the knife into her. Swallowing down hard, her eyes lifted to his and she could see that his hazel eyes were gazing upon her wanting to experience her every emotion. A moment later, he pulled the knife from her body and dropped it to the floor. Grasping her in his arms as she went to fall, he lowered down with her to her knees. Hushing her, he curled his fingers around the back of her neck and stroked at it with her falling in against his shoulder. With a half smile, he helped lay her back against the ground feeling her shaking in his arms.

“Good girl,” he praised her, dragging his thumb out across her bottom lip. Kissing her one final time, he stood up from the ground and stared down at her until her vision faded to a black.

“Is that what I did?” he grunted, a muted laugh escaping his throat when he reached for the knife again. Dragging it across her abdomen under her belly button with a small amount of pressure broke the skin. An excited breath escaped him at the sight of a few blood drops sliding down her flesh from the small wound. “Funny how I brutally killed everyone, but you that night. You didn’t think it was strange that I stabbed you in an area where there were no major organs or blood vessels? Originally, the plan was to stab you in the heart.”

“So you’re saying you didn’t leave me to die?” she winced when he lowered his head to drag his tongue along her skin to collect the blood. Groaning out, his eyes came to a tight close at the taste of her. “I’m lucky I’m not burned from the fire or dead.”

“Six films and you’re the only one that I never finished the job with,” he educated her on what he had filmed causing her to let out a shuddering breath. “Strange, isn’t it?”

“You know, it took a while to find one of the video stores that carried your films,” she informed him, getting him to lift his head up to stare out at her. “Where I watched every single one of your movies. And you’re right. I’m the only one you kept alive. I also noticed that you kept the blowjob out of the second movie.”

“Well, some things were made to stay personal,” he suggested with a wicked smirk, giving her a wink. “Not that I didn’t keep that shit for myself. Y’know, sex never really did it for me. But there was something about you…that always made me so hard.”

“And are you hard now?” her eyebrow arched in curiosity eliciting a deep rumble of an amused sound from his throat. Dragging his tongue out across his bottom lip, he set the knife down again and pulled her to the edge of the table stepping between her thighs. Leaning in over her had her breathing growing louder. His hand was still firmly wrapped around her throat when he rubbed his hips up against hers. Her eyes fluttered to a close with the sensation. “So what are you going to do now?”

“I guess that depends on you,” he thought aloud, his lips hovering in over hers. “You see, I’ve been following you for days. And I can’t wrap my mind around you and what you’re trying to attempt here. Are you trying to get your revenge? Finally be the one to end me? Or do you just want me caught? Especially with all those killings. So brutal.”

There was a silence between them with her eyes narrowing and her breathing becoming steadier, “Are you trying to mirror my killing style? Lead them to me?”

“You saw that?” she whispered with his thick eyebrows bouncing up in amusement.

“Oh, I saw that. And frankly, I felt a few things. Pissed off that you were stealing my kills before I could get to them,” he started, his Adam’s apple bouncing in this throat as he stared down at her. “But the other thing I felt?”

A gasp escaped her throat when he reached for the top of her shirt with his free hand. With a firm yank it had the material tearing, “Well I was so fucking turned on. How easily you killed those people, the look in your eyes? You’re nothing like that girl I left in the diner that night. You’re scared of nothing. Even you pretending with me earlier, I can see in your eyes that your fear? It’s gone.”

“Did you ever think I was doing it to prove my worth?” she hissed out, her hand reaching up to curl her fingers around his wrist. An amused expression tugged at his features when his hazel eyes lifted. “Maybe I was just building our next feature.”

“Our?” he repeated, grunting out when she was quick to move and reach for the knife that he set down beside her on the table. Bringing it up to his throat surprised him, but an amused laugh escaped him. “Look at you.”

Digging the blade firmly enough into his flesh broke the skin and it had his hand loosening from around her throat. Rolling her eyes, she lowered the knife but still kept a firm hold of it. Lifting up just enough brought them closer together with the warmth of her breath pressing in over his lips, “I don’t want to kill you, I never did.”

A gasp escaped her throat when his lips came crashing down over hers. The kiss was hungry and powerful with her reaching up with her free hand to sink her fingers into his messy hair. Dropping the knife down beside her, her hands reached up to grab at the collar of his white shirt. Using her strength had the buttons tearing from his shirt and falling onto the table bouncing out across it and onto the floor. Caressing up over his neck, she reached for the ridiculous bowtie that he wore and tugged it so that it was pulled apart.

There was a sense of awe in his eyes when she reached for the knife and teased the tip of it to trace shapes over his slender abdomen. There were already visible scars that were left on his body, but they didn’t seem to phase her. Watching her with want and desire, he couldn’t help but smile with what she was doing, “I’ve just been trying to get your attention.”

“Well you have it,” he assured her, wincing out when he felt her nicking at his flesh with the blade. Looking down, he saw some of his blood dripping down his body and it made him moan out. Lowering back down over her, his mouth started peppering wet kisses over her jawline and toward the side of her neck. Dropping the knife, her grasp on his hair tightened forcing his head back. Lifting up enough, she dragged her tongue across the wound she left on his neck provoking another deep, raspy moan to escape him. “Fuck.”

Using his strength, he tore at the rest of her shirt working to get the tattered material from her body. Reaching for the cup of her bra, he pulled it back revealing her breast to him. It had her breathing growing louder when his tongue circled her nipple before taking the bud in his mouth. Suckling at it had it turning into a hard bud with him groaning against her flesh.

Pushing up unhurriedly, he started to work her pants from her body tossing them aside once he got them from her legs. Reaching for the knife that she dropped, he used it to cut her panties from her body getting her to purr out when he pulled the torn material from her body.

“You do realize what this means?” he teased the tip of the blade along her inner thigh with his other hand caressing down over her abdomen. “If you agree to this, you’re mine. And only mine.”

“That’s all I want,” she confessed, wincing out when she lifted her head to see him putting enough pressure into what he was doing to leave his initials at her inner thigh. Dropping the knife, he lowered down onto his knees and hooked his arms firmly under her to drag her closer to him.

Starting to kiss at her inner thigh drew out a pant from her. Lifting up on her arms she watched him drag his tongue out across the lines of blood that he left on her flesh from where he put his initials. With a wicked smirk, his eyes met hers and he licked his lips. There was a bright red color left over them from her blood which only further had chills flooding throughout her veins.

Burying his head between her thighs, Butch started pressing hot, wet kisses over her body drawing out whimpers from her that only fueled him further. Drawing his tongue out over the length of her sex in slow, unhurried movements had her reaching down to hook her fingers into his hair. Circling his tongue around her clit had her purring out with her hips lifting up toward him. Originally, this was not how he thought his night would end up, but he wasn’t hating it.

Leaning back, he licked his lips and dragged his tongue out flat against her sex starting at her entrance upwards toward her clit. Humming out, he put a firm amount of pressure on her clit before repeating the same motion several times having her hips arch up toward him. Last time, she went above and beyond to pleasure him, so he was out to do the same with her. Lapping at her entrance, he growled against her flesh and it had her crying out with the vibrations. Her grasp at his hair was strong when his lips circled her clitoris, surrounding the small bundle of nerves where he suckled at the small nub.

Inserting one of his long, slender fingers into her tight opening had her crying out when he started to caress at the top of her vaginal wall in search of her g-spot. When he found it, he put enough pressure on it and started rubbing up against it while his mouth continued to work at her clit. In no time he had her body shaking with her moans filling the empty kitchen. It sent a fire throughout his veins when he inserted another finger and started to plunge them quicker inside of her. With wet sounds, he pampered her body with his mouth and fingers, setting a steady tempo. Her back arched up from the table, her hips bouncing up toward him as he hummed out. Reaching up with his left hand, he pressed firmly at her abdomen getting her to lower down so he could have more control over what he was doing.

“Butch,” she cried out his name, her body tremoring against him when the warmth of her contracting around his fingers sent chills throughout his body. Most of his life, these were not the kind of screams that appealed to him. Cries of pleasure? That was a new thing he was realizing he liked, but only in this situation. Because usually, it was the sound of fear that excited him. Keeping up with what he was doing had her a shaking mess that easily led her to an orgasm. Growling out, he pulled his mouth away from her body and dragged his tongue out across his bottom lip.

“Good girl,” he praised her, getting up from where he was knelt down. Leaning over her, he grasped firmly at her chin getting her to let out a long exhale as he stared down at her. “Don’t let that gift fool you honey, I’m going to destroy your pussy and I’m going to fuck you hard. You understand?”

“I look forward to it,” she informed him, provoking him to release an amused rumble of a sound. With a nod, he hooked his arms under her legs and pulled her right to the edge of the table. Dropping his hands down, he started to work open his pants with her lifting her head from the table to watch him. Pushing the material down had his hard cock springing free from behind the prison and it made her throat go dry at the sight. She almost forgot how big he actually was. With a smirk, Butch stepped forward and hooked his arms under her knees, getting her ankles up over his shoulders. Reaching between them, he traced the swollen tip of his cock over her clitoris having her arch her hips up toward him. “I think I deserve to have you fuck me after all you’ve put me through.”

“You haven’t made things easy for me either sweetheart,” he hissed dragging the tip of his body through her folds. Lining himself up with her entrance, his eyes locked with hers. What blew his mind was how this woman still affected him so deeply after this long. No one would have ever been able to lead him to putting his guard down like this. Hell, she could have killed him during this whole thing and he wouldn’t have cared. There was an addiction he had to her, an obsession that he couldn’t let go of. Pushing his hips forward had the vein at the side of his neck becoming more prominent along with her gasping out and dropping her head against the table as he entered her. Smacking up against her, his lips parted with his jaw lowering. Looking down between them he smirked when he saw his cock buried deeply within her warmth. The way her tight walls clung to his fat cock had him groaning out and sucking in a sharp breath of air. Having him like that had her squirming, her body tremoring with him inside of her. “I’ve never wanted to fuck someone so bad in my life.”

Lifting her head, she cried out when he pulled his hips back dragging a significant amount of his lengthy cock from her before firmly thrusting forward again. In unison they moaned as each thrust grew harder and faster. Reaching down, her fingers curled around his wrists where his hands were grasping firmly to her hips to keep her in place. The way her pussy clung to his cock felt amazing and he was surprised at himself over the sounds he was making.

Most of his pleasure came from hurting people. Sex was never an addiction. It was something he didn’t yearn for. Not until now at least.

Each plunge his cock made inside of her had her cries growing louder. He wasn’t kidding, he wasn’t taking things slow or easy. He was fucking her and he was fucking her hard. His fingers were digging into her flesh, undoubtedly going to leave a mark and the full feeling of him inside of her ached in the best of ways.

“You turned out so much better than I thought you would,” he growled out, allowing her legs to drop when he closed the distance between the two of them. Hovering his lips in over hers, he teased her with the idea of kissing her. A moment later, the sound of a firm smack filled the air after she firmly hit him across the side of the face. Instead of responding poorly, it just had him smiling when he returned his stare to her. “I didn’t think anyone could match my freak…”

“Fuck,” she winced out when his fingers wrapped firmly around her neck again causing her head to slam back against the table. Pressing his body closer to hers had him trapping her beneath his weight. Hissing out, she felt the pressure of his grasp tighter than before when he started to smack up against her firmly. The sounds the table was making beneath them didn’t sound great, but she didn’t care. Hell, if it broke, she could care less. The friction from his groin rubbing up against her clit through every roll of his hips in this position felt amazing. “You feel so good inside of me.”

Releasing her throat, Butch returned her previous gesture smacking her firmly across the side of her face. The movement of his hips stopped as he waited for a response from her. Her jaw flexed with an angered expression flooding into her features. Grunting out, he felt her shoving into him and it made him laugh. The second shove was strong enough to have him stumbling backwards. One thing that had always surprised him was how strong she was. Even when he first met her, he couldn’t believe how easily she was able to take on a group of frat boys when they didn’t catch her off guard. And now? She had no problem throwing others around.

Falling back into the chair behind him had her swiftly moving in over him. Her right arm wrapped around his shoulders and her left hand braced over his thigh to balance herself, “You aren’t one to back down, are you?”

“I’m not something you can easily break,” she breathed against his lips getting a moan from him in return when the warmth of her hovered over him. Settling his right hand at the small of her back, his left reached between them helping to lead his hard cock back to her ready entrance. When he entered her again, it had the both of them moaning out together in unison.

Dropping his head down, he took her nipple into his mouth suckling at her flesh when she started to powerfully rock her hips over his length, “That’s it sweetheart. Ride that cock…”

“You’re better at this than I thought you would be,” she nipped at his bottom lip, her moans vibrating against his flesh. It had his eyes fluttering to a close enjoying the way that she was using his body for her pleasure. “For someone who doesn’t like sex…”

“And you are better at killing than I thought you’d be,” he corrected her, his eyebrows bouncing up when it made her smile as his eyes lazily opened. “So I guess we’re both surprising one another, huh?”

Groaning out, his head dropped down to watch her taking his cock into her again and again. Every movement was rough, hectic and desperate. The steady pace she set felt amazing and she was so wet that it enhanced everything between them. Originally, he thought she may have wanted to kill him, but by the way her body was reacting toward him, he knew that she was just as hooked on him as he was her.

Stroking her fingers in over the scarring that was at his temple had him growling out, his head turning toward her touch. Instead of being scared of him, she only seemed to be in awe of him. Most people saw him and at first they’d be enamored by his handsomely charming, good looks. But then when they saw the scar? Well that would often change things.

Moaning out, his eyes squeezed shut at just how good things really felt between them. How rough she was being with him surprised him. When they first met, he saw her as the type of girl that would want to be made love to. Now? She was a woman that was taking what she wanted and didn’t have a problem with that at all.

“Fuck me,” he growled out when she smacked firmly at the side of his face again. There was a red color over his cheek, but it made him smile at the way it stung. A moment later, her fingers were digging into his messy hair and forcing it back against the chair. Huffing out, he started to kiss her back when her lips covered his. Sucking faintly at her tongue when it brushed between his lips had her purring out and it sent a chill throughout him. Caressing up over her body with his left hand, he pinched at her nipple having her licking her lips. Teasing the tight bud in his fingers had her crying out and it made him smile. “You’re the perfect little freak, aren’t you?”

Another firm smack landed against the side of his face followed by her pressing kisses along his jawline where she nipped at his chin. It had his moans growing louder. With his free hand, he reached up to grab a strong hold of her throat getting an exhale to escape her, but she didn’t seem scared. Instead she just tipped her head back and moaned out at the sensation of the pressure he was putting there.

“You are the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he alerted her, groaning out when she had him bottom out inside of her and stopped moving. Wincing out, he dropped his head in against her shoulder clinging tightly to her. That move surprised him and it felt so good being buried this deeply inside of her. And she clung to him just as tightly. “Fuck…”

“You came here with the intentions of destroying me, but I think I’m just having you fall for me further Mr. Slater,” she slurred with an arrogant bob of her head. His dark eyes narrowed, a muscle flexing at the corner of his jaw. Even though it ached having him stagnant inside of her, it still felt amazing being filled to the brim. “You like being balls deep inside of me, don’t you?”

Smirking, he curled his fingers tighter around her neck again and started to forcefully bounce his hips up toward her. Every thrust had her gasping with her falling forward to rest her head against his shoulder. Releasing her throat, he curled his fingers around the back of her neck and held her closely to him.

“Don’t stop,” she begged of him having him pressing kisses against the side of her neck. His other hand grabbed a firm hold of her hips to keep her in place. His testicles were smacking up against her with how hard he was fucking her and her cries intensified. Right now? He was using all the power he could muster up to fuck her as hard as he could in this position. A moment later her hips pulled up and away from him when her orgasm hit her hard. Growling out, Butch nipped at her chin while she shook over him with her body still on a high from the orgasm he brought her to. “Christ, Butch.”

Growling out, he felt her fingers grasping tightly to his throat this time. Finally having the strength to lift her head, she pressed firmly at the soft fleshy part of his throat getting his head to press back against the chair. By the look in her eyes, she looked drunk off of him and he liked it. Shakily reaching back with her free hand, she grabbed the knife that he had deposited before and it made him smile.

“I am so proud of you,” he alerted her, watching her taking the tip of the knife to drag it down over the side of his neck and down over his chest. Groaning out, he felt her digging the tip a bit harder into his chest at the opposite side of where one of his tattoos were. Tipping his head down just enough to see that she was marking her initials into his chest made him smile. Unhurriedly, her eyes lifted to his and she could see that his pupils were dilated with lust. “I guess we match now.”

“It only seemed fair,” she looked down toward her thigh still seeing the lines of blood that were left there from what he had done previously to her. “You know, we’ve only scratched the surface when it comes to what I’m capable of. I’ve learned a lot from you.”

Dropping the knife on the ground, she tipped down to press wet kisses over the area she had just marked with the blade. Doing that rewarded her with one of the raspiest moans she had heard from him yet.

“Of course you have,” he grunted, wrapping his arm firmly around her waist to pick her up and lead her back toward the table. Forcing her to stand, he turned her around and firmly slammed her down against the top of the table. How hard he did it had a loud exhale escaping her. Staring down at her body, he pressed his hands between her shoulder blades and hissed out. “You’re part of me now, y’know that?”

“Oh?” she looked over her shoulder to see that he was caressing over his rigid length while he gazed over her body. Releasing himself, he firmly reached down to smack over her bottom and it had her crying out. “So that means you’re ready for a partner? I thought the fans weren’t prepared.”

“They’ll learn to love you just as I have,” he promised her, urging her arms firmly behind her back causing her to wince out. Adjusting his hips, he lined himself back up with her entrance and sank himself into her warmth again with ease. Smack after violent smack of his hips against her had her crying out his name. “You are so fucking tight.”

Whimpers escaped her with every movement he made. Tipping his head back, he could tell by the sensation of her tight walls clinging to his body that she was approaching another orgasm in this position. Hooking his left arm around both of her arms allowed him to have a hand free. Smacking his hand against her bottom several more times had her cries growing louder. Outstretching his hand, he placed it at the back of her head and kept her there. Her thighs started to tremor while he pounded into her. She was up on the tips of her toes desperate for the friction that he was giving her. A moment later he was forced from her body when a wet sound followed once he brought her to another mind-blowing orgasm.

“Fuck…” she panted, her arms aching with how Butch was holding onto them from behind. Squeezing her eyes shut, there was a horrible ache at her temples with her body still shaking from the orgasm Butch got her to.

“Stand up,” he instructed, releasing her arms and staring down at her. She was laid out across the top of the kitchen table and his cock twitched yearning for the same kind of release. “I said stand up.”

When she didn’t listen to him, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to her feet. Wrenching her arms behind her back again, he stepped closer to her. His chest pressed against her back having her sucking in a sharp breath of air. Using his foot, he managed to sweep hers just enough to get her to spread her legs further apart. Adjusting himself, he worked his hips the way he needed them so he could forcefully enter her again with a loud smack from behind. Fucking her senseless while standing was easy for him, but by the way that her legs were shaking he could tell that her body was spent from the overstimulation.

“Where do you want me to come?” he muttered, his lower abdomen flexing with his orgasm nearing. Pausing his movements had her crying out when he released one of her arms. Dropping his right hand down, his thumb circled her tight pucker having her let out a gasp when he pushed past the tight ring of muscle. A deep, raspy moan escaped him at the sensation of it with her gasping out and dropping her head back against his shoulder. Grunting out, he led her over toward the counter and released her arm. Starting to fuck her again, he kept his thumb stagnant inside of her allowing her to get used to it. “Your tight little holes are so perfect, y’know that?”

Pulling his thumb from her ass, he leaned over her and wrapped his arm firmly around her throat. Bouncing his hips up toward hers, he bit at her jawline and winced when he felt his testicles tightening up, “Part of me wants to come inside of your ass, but with how tight you are, I’m not sure you’ve ever had someone fuck your ass, have you?”

“No,” she purred out, with his other hand wrapping firmly around her throat.

“Do you want me to paint the walls of your pussy with my come?” he wondered, nipping firmly at her jawline getting her to whine out when he bucked firmly up against her from behind. “That’d be so much better, right? Instead of wasting my come in your ass, it’d be better to fill you with my seed.”

“Yes, please…” she begged hearing his moans growing louder when she started to feel the throbbing of his cock inside of her. Burying his head against the side of her neck, Butch’s moans drove her wild with desire hearing just how much this all pleasured him. Following through with his thrusts, she felt the warmth of his release inside of her followed by his come spilling out down her inner thighs.

“Fucking hell,” he growled out with an amused rumble, attempting to catch his breath. Allowing his interest to sway him, he grunted out and lifted up just enough to look between them. Gasping out, she heard the sound of him spitting and felt the warmth of it sliding down over her tight pucker. Pulling his cock from her body, he curled his fingers firmly around the base of his cock and led the tip to her ass. “Don’t tense up.”

Trying to listen to his warning, her wince filled the air when he pushed forward through the tight ring of muscle. Hushing her, he felt like he could come undone all over again with her tight canal clinging firmly to his cock. Lowering in over her, he bit at her shoulder hearing her hiss out. Stepping forward, he allowed his cock to sink fully into her having her pulling forward, but he brought her hips right back to him. By the way her body was shaking, he could tell that it didn’t know how to respond with him fully inside of her like this. But she didn’t put up a fight. Not after she was already so exhausted with her orgasms. Taking his time, he bounced his hips up toward her, not wanting her to completely hate him after this. But God, did it turn him on watching as he fucked her ass. Her body was tremoring, one of her free hands reaching out to grasp at the back of his thigh. “Butch…”

“It’ll stop hurting,” he hushed her knowing that he didn’t have very long anyways before he would start going soft inside of her. “You’re okay.”

When she seemed to calm herself, he let out a grunt and started to thrust again. This time, he was forcefully smacking his hips up against her ass, using the strength that he had left to make sure she knew that every part of her was his. Continuous thrusts had her cries filling the air with his fingers finding their way around her hips to caress at her sensitive clit. Realizing that she likely had enough, he rest in over her allowing her hips to bounce back against his while he still lazily rubbed at her overstimulated body.

“Just let it go soft inside of you,” he kissed at her earlobe, reaching for her hand to hook his fingers with hers. Laying in over her, he cuddled his face in against hers and kissed at the side of her face. “Nothing feels better than knowing all of you belongs to me. You understand that, right?”

“Yes,” she whimpered squeezing her fingers tightly around his when he finally allowed his body to pull from hers. Looking between them, he smiled at the sight of his come covering her thighs and still spilling from her. Dragging his fingertips up over the length of her sex, he collected some of their fluids over his fingers and brought them before her. “Butch?”

“Clean them,” he demanded, his free hand grasping firmly to her hair. Bringing his fingers to her lips had her taking them into her mouth sucking the remainder of their sex from them. Growling out, he pressed a kiss against her cheek and rest back against the edge of the table. It took a minute for her to gather herself. To him? The way her body was shaking before him was the sign of a job well done. By the time she managed to push herself up into a standing position, Butch’s heart was still hammering inside of his chest with him trying to catch his breath. “You’re mine from here on out, you understand that, right?”

“I do,” she moved forward, falling in against his chest having him wrap her up in his arms. Pressing kisses against the side of her face had her turning her in toward him allowing their lips to come together in what almost felt like a delicate kiss. “You know you’re mine now too, right?”

“Mhmm…” he growled, continuing to pepper kisses against her bottom lip. A loud wince filled the air when his body jolted and he looked down to see that she had stabbed him with a fork in the same area he had done to her during their first encounter. Giving her a surprised expression, he reached down to pull it from his body and grunted when he dropped it to the ground. “Goddamn.”

“You’re lucky that’s all that was,” she alerted him getting a deep rumble of a laugh to fall from his throat. Grabbing a firm hold of his jaw in her hand, she got his hazel eyes to focus on hers when she leaned in to nip faintly at his bottom lip. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” he said exactly what she wanted to hear, his wicked smirk tugging at his lips. “No matter how many times you may feel the need or want to stab me.”

“Good boy,” she dragged her thumb out across his bottom lip having him kissing at the pad of it. “If you ever try to kill me again though, I promise you I will kill you first.”

“I expect nothing less from you,” he assured her with another muted laugh, his nose nuzzling in against hers. “You’re gonna be a great addition to my movies. I’m certain of that.”

----

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yumecel · 4 months ago

Text

But that is how the guilty speak 💙

yandere!neuvillette / f!reader | 6.1k words

summary: how does neuvillette go about getting your attention? by trapping you in a kafkaesque nightmare.

reader specifics: female, she/her woman terms whatever

tags: neuvillette SUFFERS, a little angsty, pining, ooc neuvillette for the purposes of yandere, oral, he’s a gentleman all the same

a/n: so this is basically a yandere version of “the trial” by franz kafka. happy birthday neuvillette!! happy neuvillette day!

tws: yandere, stalking, dubcon, manipulation

i promise i’m 18+, i promise i read the warnings, i promise i’m okay with seeing dark content, i know one thousand curses will karmically descend on me should i lie [yes⬇️] [no↩️]

——💙——

“Chief Justice Neuvillette would like to see you today.”

For the first time in days, you let out a sigh of relief. You barely feel like you’ve been given any room to breathe ever since you woke up to the Gardes outside your door, Gardemeks in tow, arresting you for a crime… that they had not yet revealed the nature of.

You’d been detained- first within your home, then at the Palais Mermonia, being taken care of to the highest standard both times. You didn’t have to cook- meals were delivered to you in a timely fashion. Come a certain point following lunch, a hot drink and small selection of cakes would be delivered. Afternoon tea. You were being given afternoon tea as a prisoner of the law.

Were all detainments this luxurious? you had wondered, opening your daily copy of The Steambird a few days in. When you had started your stay at the Palais Mermonia, it had felt like an all-inclusive resort. Which was a shame, since it really would have been more comforting had anyone actually explained to you what was going on. You’d tried to pry this answer from the Gardes many times, but were met with indifference. Did someone slander you? Did you sleepwalk your way into criminal activity? Day by day, the firm grasp you had on innocence started to waver. It never completely slipped- no, the deep confusion presided above all else- but there were moments of wondering what could have gone so, so wrong to warrant this. You had counted all your sins, listed all your inadequacies, and failed to come to any reasonable conclusion. Within the eyes of the Gardes, you were completely at the mercy of a higher authority.

Now, after three weeks of detainment, you’d finally meet that higher authority. The only authority that now mattered to you. Well aware that most meet Chief Justice Neuvillette within the context of court, you desperately hoped these circumstances meant that nothing serious had occurred. Your most recent theory involved being in witness protection, and perhaps he’d explain-

“Come on. He’s waiting.”

Shaking out of your racing thoughts, perhaps a little maddened by the persistent loneliness and alienation, you obediently followed the Gardes. When you finally entered the room, he stood up from his desk to greet you.

“(Y/N). Come, have a seat. I have prepared tea. I trust this beverage choice is acceptable?”

You nodded, sitting down on one of the sofas where a teacup sat on the table before it.

Neuvillette had sat down opposite you, a small chalice in front of him. Midday wine?

“You can have water instead, if desired.” He said, raising the chalice before taking a sip. So it was just water?

“No, no. This is lovely. Thank you, Chief Justice Neuvillette.”

“Neuvillette is fine.”

“I see. In that case, thank you Neuvillette.”

He nods. You nod. You can’t stand staring into his eyes anymore. You pick up your teacup with a soft clank against the saucer and look down into it after taking a small sip. You hope you didn’t accidentally slurp it too loud. The room is chillingly silent, so quiet that you can hear your blood pumping. He sets his chalice down on the table. You wonder if you should speak. You decide against it.

“How are you?” Neuvillette says suddenly, almost as if remembering he even intended to ask.

“Oh, I… well, I’m fine, but I am very confused.” You respond, a small laugh following. It does little to alleviate the tension.

“I see. That is understandable, given your circumstances.” The tone isn’t cold, but it isn’t warm. It is simply spoken gently, like a hesitant hand making its way onto your shoulder.

He pauses. You nod, still looking away from him. Desperate for him to explain without seeming too concerned with your state of affairs, you meet his eyes again and are thankful when he takes this as a cue to continue speaking.

“Speaking of which, your circumstances have been difficult to navigate indeed. It is a case I have been personally reviewing since the start of your detainment. My deepest apologies for the confusion.”

Sensing sincerity in his voice, you decide to tentatively prod a little. “May I please know more about the case itself?”

He takes in a breath before continuing, gaze dropping to the floor briefly. “It is so mountainous that I am unsure where to begin. I can, however, tell you that you must be protected in order to not disturb the crime scene or convene with any third parties.”

You try to still your hands as you reach for your teacup, hardly satiated by his answer. Ruling out neither being a suspect or being a witness, it was so vague and meaningless he may as well have not answered you at all.

“I see… I think. Are you unable to divulge any details about the case to me? I- I’m sorry to be rude, it’s just, these three weeks-“ You begin, trailing off at his palm steadily raising. You silence yourself before taking another sip of the tea, willing your eyes to meet his once again as you sit back.

“There is no need for apologies. It is I who should be apologising to you. Many things about the case are strictly confidential. Guilt or innocence do not matter at this stage. Only the necessity of the actions taken.”

Your body slumps in defeat as your mouth asks the question you’ve been dreading. “Will I need to be detained any longer?”

“Yes. Indefinitely, I’m afraid.”

Fists clenching and unclenching in your lap. A sharp intake of your breath. Eyes begin to water. A desperate attempt to hide the tears is made by slouching forward, staring intently at the ground.

“It’s just that I haven’t been permitted to see my family or friends all this time, they’re probably worried about me…”

Neuvillette rises from his seat and comes quickly to your side, placing a hand on your back. You jolt, but Neuvillette does not falter. As it rubs in small circles, strangely comforting, strangely- strangely warm- he says, “Please, do not fret. It may be slightly inconvenient, but there is an alternate arrangement that would give you more freedom, should you desire it.”

Of course you desire it, of course, whatever price, you’d be willing to pay it to make this extended stay in purgatory any less isolating.

“What is it?” You sniffle.

Neuvillette remains silent for almost too long. You swear his hand presses just a little firmer on your back, almost to prevent you from sitting back up.

“An arrest via supervision. My supervision, to be precise. So long as you are by my side, any danger- whether towards you or from you- is suitably negated. Unfortunately, this does mean that you must accompany me to various trials and affairs. Would you find this satisfactory?”

Actually, it almost sounded too good to be true. You found your body relaxing. The Iudex would be looking after you, offering you a privileged view of the inner workings of his life- a topic of much discussion in Fontaine. You’d continue to eat well, you could likely communicate with others freely-

“Yes,” you say, unable to stop yourself. “I just want to be able to see my loved ones again.”

His hand finally leaves your body, leaving a residual warmth. “Very well. You may make the necessary arrangements to see these people after completing the paperwork. And… it is best if you tell them you have taken on new work at the Palais Mermonia in the meantime.”

“Of course,” you say, finally drinking the rest of your tea. “Thank you, Neuvillette.”

When he sits down at his desk, there is an almost imperceptible smile on his face. Is this the unselfish joy of helping the common folk?

“The pleasure is all mine.”

——💙——

Being permanently by Neuvillette’s side could almost be considered pleasant. There is the confinement, the unwarranted surveillance, but there are plenty of amenities alongside those.

He is not much a conversationalist, but he will speak to make your experience more bearable. Your meals come at regular intervals, and there is no shortage of things to do around the Palais Mermonia. Most days. There is, unavoidably, occasional boredom, quelled by walks outside and the arrival of new books and trinkets. He takes you to all of Furina’s plays that you can possibly attend, which you rather appreciate. Backstage, she once brings up that she’s happy Neuvillette now has a personal assistant to lighten his workload. Neuvillette does not disagree, and you nod. Beyond the remnants of her previous facade, Furina is kind and thoughtful, but you often wonder if your presence provides a comfortable buffer between her and Neuvillette. Often she talks only to you as Neuvillette stands there, watching in silence. It does make you wonder though, how despite being the ex-archon of Fontaine, even she is not privy to your situation.

Well, Furina may not be an official anymore, so perhaps there is really no need to know that you are technically Neuvillette’s prisoner rather than his assistant. Still, an accumulation of small things surrounding your circumstances grows, serving to both frighten and puzzle you.

The first is something you can never quite grow desensitised to, and it’s that… come nighttime, Neuvillette seems intent on checking if you are in bed, as if you were a child.

“I must apologise for reminding you, but it is standard practice in many prisons to ensure inmates are actually going to sleep at night.” He had told you one evening, when you tried to present your dismay as jokingly as possible. You personally feel him coming into your room (his guest room) to ensure you are adequately “tucked in” is not comparable, but you refrain from saying this.

You are also not allowed an alarm clock, so he wakes you up as part of his morning routine. The first face you see upon waking, the last face you see before sleeping.

There is also the fact that having constant access to the man in charge of your detainment should be useful in terms of information, but he doesn’t let on to anything at all.

You’re very careful not to upset Neuvillette. You are aware that your situation is a privilege, that the ease of being able to see people outside of him- simply telling him when you will be gone, where you’re going, and when you’ll be back- is a pretty good deal when compared to everyone you know finding out you’re under arrest and having to fill out paperwork to approve any actions.

Still, with every day that passes, your situation grows more nonsensical. There are never any updates on your case, though Neuvillette promises he’ll tell you as soon as he’s able to provide you with information. You continue to be in the presence of the most important authority in the entirety of Fontaine. You feel like you’re freeloading every time you eat, and end up helping Neuvillette with the simplest of tasks in his office to ease this. Your attendance to every trial, witnessing the necessary coldness of Neuvillette’s impartiality, makes the subtle way his face softens upon seeing you all the more obvious. You find yourself imagining him doing everything alone, perhaps with the occasional appearance of Furina, before your detainment. Eating most of his meals alone. Walking out after a particularly challenging trial and talking to only a few Gardes on the way. There is no such person that he approaches and asks, “Shall we depart?”- a formal question that really means Let’s go home. Nobody asks him what he’s thinking about afterwards, and there are no excuses to unwind upon reaching his residence. At the start of your detainment with him, he would comb through files immediately after removing his robes. Now he joins you on the sofa, spring water in hand as he either converses with you or listens to you flick through pages of a novel. And it’s strange to admit, but you’re starting to be able to taste the difference between each nation’s water, a symbol of your proximity to him.

You learn more about him than you thought you’d ever know. The tabloids would pay good money for any of it, but you’ve strangely started to consider him a friend rather than a jailor, and it wouldn’t feel right. Besides, you highly doubt Neuvillette would permit you to exit his supervision just to talk to disreputable reporters. You try your best to make the most of this strange existence, settling into his routine, and becoming part of his life.

One day, a melusine detective skips into his office, files in hand. It’s not one you’re unfamiliar with, having spoken to many of the melusines that enter, leave, and work in the Palais Mermonia.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, we must discuss this case a little further before proceeding.” She explains, brows furrowing, but when she looks up from the case files, you catch her eye.

“Ah, hello Miss (Y/N)! It’s lovely to see you. Monsieur Neuvillette, is Miss (Y/N) allowed to be in the room for this discussion? Or perhaps we should depart? My deepest apologies, Miss (Y/N).”

“I understand if not,” you pipe up, shuffling papers around on a table. “If it’s related to my case, or-“

“You have an active case, Miss (Y/N)?”

You’ve seen melusines forget things many times before, but this one, looks… positively puzzled.

“I… do.” You say tentatively, glancing to Neuvillette.

He looks rather stunned, but it’s only a deduction you could’ve made after weeks of seeing his face and neutral expression.

“Yes, but it has moved past the need for the Marechaussee Phantoms. It is perfectly fine for Miss (Y/N) to stay in the room.”

“Ah, I see! I hope everything resolves quickly, Miss (Y/N).”

“Thank you.” You say quietly.

You start to feel, more overwhelmingly, that there is something deeply wrong.

That night, he approaches your room for his regular checking-in of you. You’re sitting upright in bed, staring into space, thinking of how little you’ve seen of your own home in the past few months, thinking of how much of the world you now consume through a Neuvillette-vetted filter, thinking of how much gratitude you should actually feel about everything- until a gentle knock on the door stirs you.

When you tell him to come in, he wears only his slacks and dress shirt, robe abandoned, and downcast eyes.

“I regret that this is taking so long, (Y/N).”

The rain patters against your window.

You sigh quietly. “… It’s alright. You can’t help it, can you?”

A howl of wind.

“I can’t. I do wish I could.”

Lashes of rain now batter against the glass in quick succession.

“Then there’s no need to apologise.”

He stands in silence, still looking down , and you turn away from him, looking out to the dismal weather. There is such a profound sadness emanating off him that you’d do anything to take his mind off it.

“Hey, is the “hydro dragon, don’t cry” stuff real?”

You expect him to laugh and tell you no.

“Only some of the time . It’s true that I have quite a powerful connection to the waters of Fontaine.”

“What about this time?”

You look back to him, finding that he’s staring blankly ahead and out of the window.

“This time… cannot be helped.”

——💙——

“Thank you. I may just have to take you on as my real assistant when we escape our current circumstances.”

You laugh, trying to hide any sense of unease. The files you had just handed him were merely sorted by date, a task that a child could do. “There’s no need to flatter me. I know you managed perfectly fine before I was around.”

“Did I..?” He mumbles. It’s so unlike him that you do a double take.

“I mean, you sorted everything on your own, right?”

“Most of the time. Perhaps it’s more accurate to assume that I appreciate your company.”

Fighting off the surprise from the sudden compliment, you manage to say, “I appreciate yours too, Neuvillette.”

You’re unable to tell if it’s a lie. He’s more than just company. He’s your entire life, at this point.

But you see the corners of his lips twitch, and the way the sunlight seeps into his office fills the room with warmth. It’s hard not to be touched by a moment like this. It’s harder to refrain from asking about the status of your case. Something inside you, a primal form of fear and unease, steels you in the face of both challenges.

——💙——

Even though Neuvillette may be the Iudex, overseeing all legal proceedings in Fontaine, he seems to hold the nature of your case above you like some metaphysical higher power. Whilst your own autonomy belongs to the court, the Iudex acts based on his principles, and the intangible whisperings of your own proceedings. You are trapped in a state that possesses neither the luxuries of innocence nor the condemnation of guilt. You don’t often dare to proclaim innocence in front of Neuvillette- should you require to, it will be within the Opera Epiclese. In the face of the entire law, defending yourself without any knowledge of what laws have even been broken has an awful pointlessness to it.

You also don’t like bringing your case up because you swear it always rains.

Both you and Neuvillette are aware that every passing day is a test on your patience. It intensified a few weeks ago when he had turned down your request for a trip to Liyue in order to visit a friend.

“There is too much on my schedule for that week. Perhaps the following month, I will have the time to escort you.”

“Why not have someone else escort me? Surely it’s well within your power-“

He drops his pen, standing up, as if to remind you of his authority. “You would be too far away from me. Our agreement clearly states-“

“Our agreement? To protect me? To protect people from me?” You laugh bitterly. “It’s been months of this. Nothing has happened, and from my perspective, nothing has changed behind the scenes. And you’re telling me I can’t have the weekend to visit a friend on her birthday?”

He remains impassive, yet a stress in his voice betrays it. “Anything could happen, (Y/N). I ask you to respect my decision on this, and trust it is within your best interests. I am more than willing to make all the necessary arrangements to send her a gift for the meantime.”

There is nothing else to do but accept defeat. The apologies, the ordering of your favourite foods, the, “I understand you’re upset with me”, and the, “Please know I wouldn’t be doing this without reason”- all serve to put salt in the wound.

With all your free time, it was only natural that you would eventually end up picking up a law book.

You’re allowed to take any book you want so long as you return it to where you found it, but the sudden interest in Fontainian law may be… suspicious. So you slip the heavy law books between novels and case retellings, bringing them to your room where you would be away from his watchful eyes. It takes a while to ascertain the correct volume, but you eventually manage to borrow the one on Fontainian laws of arrest and detainment.

You slot a bookmark about two thirds of the way through the book.

Part Seven: Wrongful Detention.

If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. And he knows you take books often, so one missing volume shouldn’t be a cause for concern. Within the volume, you hoped to find anything that could prove your detainment was unlawful, present this to him, and… hope he agrees?

You could kick up a storm in the Palais Mermonia. Wayward comments about how the Iudex violated the law, that not all citizens of Fontaine are treated impartially. The plan would come into fruition later- for the meantime, you needed to read.

Thumbing through the pages and observing the tiny size of the text, you grimace.

——💙——

“I’m going upstairs to read.”

His gaze follows you from where you hang up your coat to where you shuffle out of your shoes.

This time, there is no, “I see. Enjoy yourself” for you to hum at before leaving the room.

“Have you been particularly immersed in a series as of late? It seems this is now the only activity you do when the workday finishes.”

“Yes,” You respond. “I’m quite into it. I need to see how it ends.”

“I understand. The detective novels of Fontaine can be quite enthralling.” He tells you, with a sense of finality. You were expecting him to ask you what the series was. You were prepared to make something up, but it appears there is no need.

You continue reading the law book, switching it out for a light novel when Neuvillette normally knocks on your door and tells you he’s getting ready to retire for the evening, and if you’d like to join him downstairs for tea. You do, bringing the novel with you so suspicion isn’t aroused.

When you return upstairs, you switch it out once more with the law book, hiding it when Neuvillette arrives to ensure you’re in bed, wait until you hear his own bedroom door close, and then take it out again.

Reading under the dim light of your portable lamp, you must’ve been so engrossed that you hardly noticed him approaching.

“Oh? Pray tell, what has kept you up so late?”

Because suddenly he’s in your doorway, no knocking, and swiftly stepping over to you and your small desk.

“I-“

“Ah, the missing volume. You know, when studying law, it is generally recommended to start from volume one, which I don’t recall you taking.”

Your eyes are frozen to the book in front of you, despite feeling Neuvillette’s imposing presence behind you.

“Part Seven…” He murmurs, a finger tracing the header on the page. He’s completely leaning over you now, and you swear you can feel hot breath tickling the top of your head. “… as I suspected.”

He swiftly closes the book before stepping back from you, telling you to get out of the chair. You’re expecting him to guide you back into bed, tell you he’ll deal with you in the morning, but he doesn’t. With a hand placed on the small of your back, he guides you out of the room, down the hallway, and down the stairs. He motions for you to sit on the sofa before he busies himself in the kitchen with making tea.

When the tea is placed in front of you, you look up. There is no anger in his eyes like you thought there would be. There is only a forlorn expression that portrays deep loneliness.

“I know I owe you an explanation.” He says, sitting down beside you. You can hardly stand to look him, but see his face turned towards you in your peripheral vision.

His arms are wrapped around you before you can stop him, and you’re hauled into his lap in a swift motion, much to your dismay. “Please relax,” he murmurs. “I won’t hurt you.”

And you stop struggling, if only out of fear, the implication that he could hurt you if he desperately wanted to. You feel his face bury itself in the crook of your neck, an intimacy so foreign that your body jolts involuntarily.

“I have failed you greatly,” He mutters into your neck, “Centuries of impartiality, and…”

His arms tighten around you, squeezing you like he’s afraid you’ll slip out and seep through the floorboards.

“One person, one person to myself… all I ask… one person I would not turn my back on for the sake of my principles, I… I am deeply sorry you had to be the unlucky individual, (Y/N).”

There is nowhere for you to run, unable to move, locked in his arms. So instead, you speak.

“From the top, we can fix this,” You whisper, knowing he’s paying earnest attention to every word. “I wouldn’t tell anyone if you let me go.”

And what good would it do anyway?

He inhales sharply, giving you another squeeze. “I cannot do that. But what can I do? Countless nights have been spent lying awake, trying to orchestrate a true, unselfish reason for you to remain by my side,”

You continue listening, not daring to speak a word through his shaking breaths.

“When the desire first arose, I thought it better to hold you between judgement and ambivalence. It went on for too long. I see that now.”

The rain outside is more intense than you’ve ever seen it. A gust of wind seems to rush through his residence, and a door slams. Desperation. It is as if the storm wishes to claw at the doors, to be let in, to wreak havoc.

“Was there ever a case?” You breathe.

“Yes. You were being framed for a theft, but it was such a baseless lie that bringing you to court would have been unnecessary. It was over before you were detained at the Palais Mermonia.”

You clench your fists so tightly that you can feel nails digging into your palms. “Why me?”

He sighs like the whole world is collapsing onto his shoulders.

“There was a certain power in keeping you prisoner. I indulged this idea, of a person that wouldn’t need to be judged, constantly in the throes of the law. Neither innocent nor guilty. I was so lonely, (Y/N). I wanted to be able to share feelings with someone. I originally brought you to the Palais Mermonia to apologise formally but the more I observed… the more I yearned for something I could not otherwise have.”

You let yourself be cradled by him, let him slowly rock you as if you’re the one in emotional turmoil. In truth, you are betrayed- and painfully bitter about it- and perhaps angry at everything, perhaps scared, but Neuvillette is the least composed you have ever seen him. Time enters becomes a trickling sludge as his grip on you loosens just enough to allow movement, and you sip tea that’s already starting to go cold.

“I can’t ask for forgiveness. But please, please stay.”

“I can’t be a prisoner forever.” You admit, hanging your head.

Because in spite of everything, all the wrongs, there is a sense of pity. A hand of yours has been involuntarily plunged deep into his heart, and now that your fingers are wrapped around the glass core, you’re afraid it may shatter. Gently, you will let him down gently, and you will be free.

“You’ve always been more than a prisoner. Promise yourself to me. Marry me. Please, don’t let me rot like this forever. I beg you.”

“M-Marry you?” You sputter.

“I know those proceedings are of great significance to humans, so perhaps for the meantime you could accept engagement. The timing of our mating doesn’t matter.”

You attempt to shuffle off his lap, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. Time for a new strategy.

“Neuvillette… I’m flattered, but you know, I’m very much mortal-“

“An easily solved problem if you choose to become my mate.”

“- well, still-“

“Could you indulge me? Please, could you lend me the honour of experiencing union and understanding, even if merely once?”

His hand slides down to your thigh, not groping, not provocatively slipping upwards, but resting, slightly trembling.

As you manage to swivel around, and stare into his draconic eyes, you find yourself faced with centuries of near-imperceptible pain. His gaze doesn’t waver. You could drown in it.

Swimmers caught in rip currents shouldn’t waste their energy swimming against them. Rather, they should allow the current to take them so they can find a safe route back to shore.

You stop swimming against the current. An act of submission to the natural world. Finally, a whisper, barely recognisable as your own voice, speaks for you.

“Alright.”

And he pulls you beneath the surface, gently laying his lips on yours, slow, sweet, and soft.

——💙——

You follow him upstairs. He had offered to carry you, but you’d declined. You don’t think he takes offence, he only nods, coaxing you up every step like he fears one wrong move will send you fleeing.

He holds the door to his bedroom open for you. “Come in, now. Make yourself comfortable.”

You take a tentative seat on the side of his bed, watching as he unbuttons his shirt- most likely an old one, a few tears clumsily sewn up along a sleeve- and when he approaches you, undoubtedly catching how your eyes rake over his chest, his hands pause at the top of your silken pyjamas.

“May I?”

When you nod, it only takes a split second for his two hands to greedily yank the edges, sending every last button flying across the room. You gasp, nearly raising your arms to cover yourself but are beat by Neuvillette’s large but slender hands suddenly kneading at your breasts. Thumbs carefully circling around the buds, then pinching, squeezing, twisting. His hands find themselves under your arms, forcing you back onto the bed- you swear your body is practically lifted at some point, all of the strength he tends to keep subdued now on full display. Loose strands of his hair tickle your face as he leans down to kiss you, a far cry from the previous one. This is a kiss borne of starvation and avarice. He’s so warm against you, you can smell a light cologne, something resembling scented woods and the sea.

“We should get these off, too.” He says, not waiting for any input before two fingers hook the elastic of your pyjama bottoms and pull down. He guides them off your thighs, letting you wriggle out of them and discard them on the bedroom floor with a weak kick until you lie fully naked beneath him. He clambers off you for a moment, merely observing your form on his bedsheets as he kneels by your side. It’s hard not to admire his beautifully sculpted body, shining in the pale moonlight. His hands guide your legs open as he repositions himself and bows down ever closer to your core, where an embarrassing amount of heat has started to build. He’s between your legs, kissing all the way up your thigh as if it were you that was the deity, sucking and biting harder the closer he comes to your slit. His hand gropes your opposite thigh to balance himself, and his face pauses- so close you feel his breath fanning over your pussy, long enough for you to raise your head and see him staring right at you with draconic pupils blown wide.

“Now, please, allow me to prove my devotion.”

That’s when a finger prods at your entrance, slipping in all too easily, lips locking around your clit and sucking tenderly. Sensing the lack of resistance, another finger joins the first, curling slightly as you jolt upwards. The breath is knocked out of your lungs, something shameful and neglected coiling tighter at your core, growing stronger as his tongue flicks at you and fingers curl.

“Neuvillette!” You gasp. His intensity bears so much contrast to the usually composed man you see in front of you. Now, between your legs, he laps at you like a man possessed.

With two fingers continuing to pump against your clenching walls, his tongue continues to work at your clit, applying pressure in all right places. He’s exploring your body, fingers wavering, changing angles, figuring out what makes you jolt, what makes you whine, and best of all, what prompts you to whisper his name like a prayer. When his pace slows and his fingers are hardly moving inside of you, you beg so sweetly for him- little “Neuvillette”s and “Please, please”s- , and he delivers. You’d never have expected him to tease so much.

It’s really just that he’s doing anything to make you speak for him. Every whimper is an admission of guilt, you do want this, you want him, and it is beyond plausible deniability. That’s why he slows. That’s why he pauses. He needs to hear you say it for him. You deduce this fairly quickly, and embarrassingly, give in to every silent demand.

When his pressure loosens, when the fingers finally slip out, you twitch, crying out his name so he can finish you off.

“Patience, dear. You’ll be taken care of soon.”

He removes himself and you shuffle around on the bed, sitting up briefly, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and resisting the temptation to finish the job yourself. He takes a handkerchief from his nightstand to wipe himself off, ever the meticulous one, refusing to look away. His gaze pins you in place, prevents a hand from slipping down to your neglected pussy. It’s only in full of view of you that he finally fully strips himself, hardly letting you get an eyeful of his shaft before he’s pushing your chest backwards, eyes full of adoration and slipping his warm hands under your thighs, moving your legs into the air, bent at the knee. His lips press down on yours so fondly as the head of his cock prods against you.

“Lift your head for me, beloved.”

And you obey as reaches over you, tip clumsily bumping against your slit. A pillow is placed beneath your head, feather stuffed, angling you perfectly to stare into his eyes.

He wants you to look at him.

“Perfect.” He breathes, positioning himself to slide into your cunt, a hand ghosting over your own and intertwining fingers.

Neuvillette moves so slowly, almost as if he’e being careful not to break you. You feel every inch of him sink into you, one by one. You close your eyes, fluttering them open every few seconds as he moves leisurely. His own gaze refuses to deviate from you, and a thumb strokes your cheek.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have this forever?” His voice rumbles. “Have each other… forever?”

You open your mouth to respond- that’s not what we agreed to, that’s not-

But he bottoms out, pushing against you, and all you can manage is a wanton moan as you throw your head back.

In the back of your mind, you know Neuvillette is far too scrupulous to allow you to part from him after this. This is all of him, in front of you, and every inch buried inside of you. This is more than a taste of union.

He starts rocking in and out of you at a steady pace, feeling your walls clench around him. You swear you hear a growl rise from his throat, and a hand slowly starts to palm at your clit. You can feel Neuvillette’s every breath shudder through his body, every human constriction forced on his form. You can feel how he tries to control himself and move with grace, but also how his fingers simultaneously start to rub more frantically at you. Every sensation across your body is all him, all Neuvillette, a presence so overwhelming you can barely think of anything else. As you come closer to the edge, you sink into this feeling. No longer caring and with all shame abandoned, you call for him desperately, the only person that can possibly give you what you need.

And he does.

With his cock hammering in and out of you, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl and fists tighten around bedsheets, alongside his fingers rubbing against your most sensitive area, you cum so hard you see stars. You moan out his name one final time, spasming around his length as your eyes roll to the ceiling. Neuvillette continues to indulge himself within you, letting you ride out your orgasm with his persistent thrusts. He quickens, almost bordering on overstimulating you, but eventually pulls out, streaking white across your chest as he leans down and steals one final kiss. Forceful and desperate, he kisses like it’s his last chance to prove his love for you.

Perhaps it is. You feel him mutter something against your lips.

I love you.

Your stomach turns as the reality of the situation comes crashing down.

Trembling slightly and stepping back, the first question from his lips is, “Are you alright?”

It takes a short delay before you force yourself to meet his eyes, now donning an expression of concern. “Mm, yeah, just let me-“

You start to rise but Neuvillette shakes his head. “Please, let me wipe you off first.”

You end up staring blankly at the ceiling as he runs a handkerchief over you, swiping gently at your skin.

“I shall prepare a bath for us. Wait here. Relax.”

That’s the last you remember before he leaves the room. Alone with your thoughts, nothing seems to make sense. You take in all four corners of the ceiling and don’t do much else. It’s as if you’re temporarily suspended in a dreamlike state until Neuvillette reenters the room. He scoops you up from the bed and cradles you against his chest as you make your way to the bathroom. You think he presses a kiss or two against your forehead. You’re not sure. Half your body is cold, half of it is pressed against him, and you shiver in his arms. The floor beneath you moves faster.

That’s how you end up beside him in the bathtub as his hands run across your body. He doesn’t say anything to you, but the tender kisses pressed along your jawline speak for themselves.

Tonight, you will sleep in his bed. Tomorrow, you will wake up entangled in his limbs. You are to be cherished. You are to be taken care of. Nothing will change in the eyes of the public, at least not for now. But he will now have every last part of you.

You wished you had proclaimed your innocence sooner. You wish you had fought him. You could have argued that you are no less guilty than any other citizen of Fontaine, and should be treated as such. At least, if nothing else, you should’ve made a demand for fairness.

But that is how the guilty speak.

——💙——

fin. with love from yumecel. happy birthday neuvillette!! i love you!

#yandere genshin impact #yandere #yandere neuvillette #neuvillette x reader

216 notes · View notes

kaiser1ns · 9 months ago

Text

#. 10 MINUTES

featuring 𝗶𝘁𝗼𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗿𝗶𝗻 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

fluff. mentions of real-life players and federations. you and rin being secretly in love with each other for ten minutes straight.

TIMESTAMP — SWEETEST LOVE

It was practice time, all the team members were walking out of the locker room and onto the field, and Y/N was giving everyone a piece of candy, there's got to be some sweetness in this life after all.

"Here, Hakimi! To strengthen up your defense!" she said handing him a silver-wrapped candy and the defender just smiled "Thank you, Y/N." Everyone loved her, the young girl who came along with their new striker from Japan, who came last and got not a candy with a silver wrapper, but a golden one. Y/N's smile brightened more at the sight of Itoshi Rin — PXG's new weapon.

"Rin-chan, take this please!" she said, her face lighting up with happiness, her eyes starting to sparkle and it wasn't because of the sun, the cameraman is having a lot of fun documenting this cute moment between the two of them.

Rin looked at her, listening to every word that came out of her mouth and those soft plump lips that had some sort of lipstick, he didn't bother to think much about the makeup product. The striker didn't even noticed how he was staring at Y/N the entire time until she looked at him with a confused expression and he immediately looked away, avoiding her gaze.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then. Enjoy your training, Rin."

He took the candy from her hand and walked forward with a small smile on his face and hoped it wasn't going to be part of the video.

TIMESTAMP — AWARD FOR THE BIGGEST IDIOT

The hosts were talking, the audience was looking at them at the big stage, while two youngsters were whispering things to one another. They sat next to each other, of course, and next to them were other famous football players with their spouses. She put her hand to his ear to block out the noise and whisper to him until she was caught in action and the camera was on them, hearing the loud cheers from the people who are now standing and looking at them — well more specific to Rin because he just won.

Y/N's eyes immediately widened as she stood up grabbing Rin's hand making him stand up and he just squeezed her hand until she let go to applause too. He cleared his throat, fixing his tie ready to walk alone to the stage when he turned on his heel and grabbed Y/N's hand once again.

To say this was going to make the press and his fangirls crazy is one thing, but to him it was something normal because was it that uncommon to go and receive an award with your plus one? Well there's first time for everything, nothing to lose.

TIMESTAMP — MARRY EACHOTHER ALREADY!

The dressing room buzzed with models and stylists dashing around, preparing for the big show. Amid the clothing chaos, Rin sat like a statue in front of a mirror, clearly uncomfortable in his ill-fitting outfit, casting glances toward Y/N, who was absorbed in the task of checking the list with the football players that were invited from the team.

Sensing his discomfort, Y/N finally looked over, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of his fashion disaster. Without a word, she walked over to him, her expression was gentle — like a wife to a husband. Standing before him, Y/N began to button his shirt properly, her fingers brushing against his chest, sending a shiver down his spine and butterfly in his stomach. She adjusted his tie, her touch light but assured, and the tension in Rin's shoulders eased with each small adjustment she made.

Next, she selected a sleek pair of cufflinks and a simple, elegant watch, it was not his style but it was perfect for him. Rin held his breath as her hand lingered on his wrist, fastening the watch with a tender touch. He could feel his heart race, a silent testament to his growing affection for her.

Stepping back to admire her work, Y/N met Rin’s gaze, her own eyes shining brightly by the well done outfit. Rin, usually reserved and distant, found himself utterly taken by her whole being. With a final, approving nod, Y/N turned to leave, a slight blush on her cheeks. Rin reached out, gently catching her hand for a brief moment, his silent gratitude and admiration conveyed through his tender grip. She smiled softly in return, expecting him to say something and he did "Please, go wear that dress."

Safe to say, they were the stars of the show even though they were the guests.

"What are you watching?" a way-too-familiar voice spoke behind you as you were seated on the couch enjoying some alone time until that someone decided to interrupt.

"Oh, nothing, just some YouTube compilations," you replied, not bothering to turn around.

"Compilations of us being in love for ten minutes?" First, he comes home unannounced, and now he's asking questions and preventing you from watching more. "You're asking a lot of questions for someone who promised to come home early," you retorted, still staring at the screen.

"And you know that we are married. No need to watch some videos from years ago." He dropped his luggage on the ground, took off his jacket, and sat next to you on the couch. His body finally relaxed against the soft material as he exhaled heavily and closed his eyes — finally, some peace and quiet.

"Rude," you said, eyes glued to the TV, the video still playing. Great, now you would have to replay it all from the beginning. "Also, go shower, you stink."

He didn't said anything, wrapping his arms around you despite your protests. "I missed you," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. You tried to push him away, half-heartedly complaining about the sweat and smell. "Rin, you’re all gross from practice!" You could feel his heart beating fast as he pulled you closer, matching the rhythm of your own. Sighing, you finally gave in, resting your head against his chest. "Yeah, I missed you too."

After a moment of comfortable silence, you broke it. "But we are going to watch this video. Also, I have saved a few more. Did you know that people thought me and Isagi had something going on?"

You laughed, remembering the absurd assumptions. He raised an eyebrow, distributed by the fact that they shipped you with Isagi Yoichi. You rolled your eyes playfully at him, well it couldn't be helped since you were one of Blue Lock staff members. "Please, everyone knows you're the only one for me. People were waiting for the moment when you would propose."

He tried to hide the little smile that played on his lips, leaning in to kiss you softly. His lips brushed against yours, gentle and tentative, as if testing the waters. Your breath caught, and you instinctively moved closer, deepening the kiss. Gentle hands cupped your cheek, fingers threading through your hair, as his kiss grew more confident, more insistent, he wanted more. "How lukewarm."

#✧* ꜝ blue lock #blue lock fluff #blue lock x you #x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #rin x you #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin x y/n #itoshi rin #blue lock itoshi rin #blue lock manga #itoshi rin x you #rin itoshi #rin x y/n #blue lock x reader

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oracle-of-dream · 1 year ago

Text

Photo Finisher

Minors DNI

Summary: You've been asked to participate in a photo shoot for the Vogue World Fashion Show to showcase a friend's clothing line. The model you working with has heard of your reputation and lets you know of his expectations early...

Warnings: Male reader, Pet names, Soft dom Jeno, Big dick Jeno, Daddy Kink, Business relationship, Unprotected sex, Multiple orgasms, Overstimulation, Praise kink, Breeding kink

Wordcount: 2k

Your body was heavy as you lay in bed jet lagged from the flight.

You'd been asked to attend Vogue World in New York to participate in a clothing showcase for a business friend of your company. You didn't really know the client, but your boss expressed how important it was to make them happy. You were to behave and follow any requests given to you by the client.

While you knew how important the case was, you couldn't bring yourself to emerge from the comfort of the covers.

A loud knock hit your door, "Um, Mister y/n? Are you there? I hate to bother you, but we need you to meet the models for some pre-event photos."

You rolled over to look at the clock. 11 am.

Fuck.

You're late.

"I'm coming now," You shouted back as you started pulling clothes out of your suitcase. It didn't really matter what you were going to wear since you were taking the photos and not in them. When you emerged from your room, you were wearing a white button-up with the top three buttons closed, black leather shorts, and knee-high white socks. "Apologies, I overslept," You said softly while rubbing your eyes.

Your manager nodded, "It's alright, y/n. We're running behind, so I need to take you to meet the VIP, there you'll get to know him, take a few photos, and then wait until the staff collect the both of you." He looked you over, "Are you sure you'd like to wear this? It's cold outside."

You nodded, not really listening, "Yes, it's fine. I'll bring a coat. If it's too bad then it's my fault. Let's go."

Your manager took you up two floors in the elevator and led you into a suite. There were staff in the room doing finishing touches on a man who immediately turned to greet you.

He was tall, had dark hair, and wore a black suit that opened to show his shirtless form.

"Hello, I'm Jeno from NCT. I'll be your model today, it's an honor to work with you," He pulled his his suit jacket closed as it slipped open and revealed his muscular torso.

His smile was bright and slightly embarrassed, "I'm sorry, this isn't the kind of clothes I usually wear. And you look amazing too, the stylists worked hard on your outfit."

You looked down at the clothes you'd thrown on. "Thank you, Jeno, let's chat," You sat on his bed as his makeup staff began to clean up and leave.

Jeno nodded and sat in a chair across from you, posing naturally. He was perfect. The way the jacket slid open to show his abs, the single silver chain necklace, and the simplicity of the outfit made it more sexy.

You coughed, trying to focus on your job, "So, Jeno, do you know who I am?"

He nodded, "You're y/n, the famous photographer. You're so good that you can make a rock look like it's something Picasso painted."

You suppressed a prideful smile. "And you're Jeno from NCT, one of the rappers and dancers, right?" You pretended you didn't remember much of the information you'd been given in his file, but it was a long flight with nothing to do. Of course, you'd read it over a few times. "You're the only one in your group selected to be here as a representative– it's a lot of pressure, right?"

He nodded gingerly, "Yes! I'm so anxious about making any mistakes. So I've trying to keep myself balanced."

You looked out the window, natural light pouring out of it then examined Jeno's face. His structure was more beautiful as his natural structure made shadows that accentuated his form more.

"You're lucky, you know that?"

"I am. Because I get to work with you."

"Most people say so much just for a consultation. But we're even going to have a private photo shoot too."

Jeno's posture shifted forward as he sat up, leaning on his hands that used his knees for support.

You bit the inside of your cheek as the smooth clothes moved around his body, every roll and wave of the clothes revealed more for you to enjoy.

"So. I've also heard a secondary function that you serve, to ensure photos are better," Jeno stated. His energy was different now, he was playful like a dog earlier but now Jeno spoke more like a man. "I've heard that you have sex with your clients because their natural beauty is enhanced from orgasms."

You cocked your head to the side, "So you've done thorough research on me. Even about my beliefs about my work."

"I also know that you're rather picky about those you'd have sex with. You're usually only assigned male clients, adults, and those who pay lots of money to ensure they look good."

You nodded, "And?"

"And you can tell if someone is worth the extra work from a glance."

You smiled, "Wow, you're so well-studied."

Jeno stood, letting the jacket hang open for you to look at his body, "Do I pass?" You could see his pants had tightened with a huge bulge that he was putting on display for you.

"Are you ready for me to make you beautiful?" You said softly as you opened your shirt, letting it barely hang on you as you crawled further onto the bed, toward the edge where he was standing.

"I'm willing to do anything for you, gorgeous," Jeno moaned as you put your hand on his crotch. "You've got me so hard already," He gently slid his pants and underwear away to reveal his massive cock. It poked your lips as it twitched, Jeno shook his hips so it would slap your face a few times.

You couldn't restrain yourself, and Jeno could tell from how your legs squished together.

He pushed you onto the bed and he kissed your body and face, leaving a few love bites on your stomach.

"You ready for my cock?" Jeno asked as he dragged a finger down your stomach, tracing the darkened spots he'd made.

"Mmm, please," You moaned as he slid your pants.

Jeno's suit jacket was still on him, and when he slit it off you were allowed to behold his true body. He was designed for a camera, you took mental notes of how his muscles flexed and shone in each movement.

"Tell me what you want," Jeno whispered as he hooked your leg on his shoulder, his dick rubbing against it. Jeno's eyes were dark, and his smile was mischievous, but he was still obedient to you.

"I want you to fuck me, please, Daddy."

"Daddy, I didn't think you were a Daddy's boy," Jeno chuckled as he pulled your shorts off. Your hole was waiting, twitching, and Jeno slipped in a finger experimentally. It slipped in with no resistance, which made Jeno's jaw loosen in arousal, "You prepared yourself?"

You nodded, "Just for you."

"Next time, I want to do it," He kissed your forehead as he pointed his cock toward you.

You nodded breathlessly as Jeno pushed into you, "O-Okay, I'll do that." Your eyes rolled back as Jeno slowly slid into you. His cock felt neverending, it just kept pushing deeper into you as you shook on the bed helplessly. "You're so... deep," You moaned as you felt your hips come into contact with Jeno's.

"You're doing so good, good for Daddy," Jeno complimented as he placed his hand on your stomach. "Look here, baby," He moved your hand to feel his cock bulging you. It was the first time for you, and you could barely keep yourself sane as Jeno's cock throbbed inside you.

"It's so big, too much," You moaned as you tried to move away from Jeno, but he grabbed your arms pulling you back into him.

"No running, that's not allowed. You signed up for me and seduced me like this, so you have to take responsibility."

Jeno started slow and gentle as he started fucking you. Only moving a few inches at a time, keeping you mostly filled. Each thrust was still enough to make you moan like he was going all out with you.

"It's okay if you cum, baby. Don't hold it, it'll be harder for you if you're holding it back." Jeno pulled back and used your arms to pull you into him as he thrust forward, slamming into you, and you came instantly from the impact.

Your body tingled and twitched as Jeno stopped moving, he admired you clinging around him.

"I-I... Can't... More," You tried to beg.

"You want more?"

You shook your head, begging.

"That's not very fair. Getting off and then telling me to stop. I won't continue until you say, but you're going to have to sit right here until then," Jeno rolled his hips to remind you he's inside you still.

"J-Jeno, please," You moaned.

"Hm? Daddy's here, have you calmed down?" Jeno cooed as he kissed your chest, feeling your heartbeat start to slow down.

"More, please."

"As you wish, my prince," Jeno said as he laid onto you, holding you by your shoulders and hugging you tightly, your cum sticking you and Jeno together. He pumped into you, as he watched your expression. Your eyes are wide open and out of focus, moaning like crazy, and even drooling. "You're so cute like this, I wish you could be like this every time we meet," Jeno kissed your neck while he continued.

It felt like an hour, Jeno hit you nonstop. Grunting and groaning with every thrust. "I'm almost there, hang in there, baby," Jeno encouraged.

Jeno's encouragement went on for an extra five minutes, without losing steam.

"P-Please," You begged.

"I'm so close, I mean it. I–" Jeno couldn't finish his sentence as he groaned loudly in your ear as he came inside you, somehow pushing even deeper into you. The sensation made you cum instantly, making more of a mess on Jeno.

You're eyes rolled and your whole body shook as Jeno fucked out his high, pushing into you. You could feel every pump of Jeno's cock, pouring into you, his cum warming your insides.

Jeno, covered in sweat, sat up to look at his work. "We're gonna need to get you cleaned up."

You groaned, "Let's sleep."

"Let's? As in together? I didn't take a businessman like you to be so domestic," Jeno laughed.

"Who are you calling domestic!?" You sat up but the pain made you lay back down. "I can't sit up, you broke me."

Jeno scooped you into his arms, "Then I'll bathe you. I'll dock this service out of your pay."

"Like hell–You want to bathe me."

"So you'd rather lay like this?"

"If it means I don't lose money."

"Money? What about my feelings?"

"Your feelings don't pay."

"They can. Make me happy and I'll leave a personal tip," Jeno winked at you.

"I think you might give more than the tip..." You covered your face, wiping the sweat away as Jeno took you into the bathroom.

Jeno was more than thorough with you. Not only did he help clean the cum out of you, he massaged your insides, back, and neck with firm hands. The massage made you hard again, but Jeno said there was no more time for fun. He even dried you off and helped you back into your clothes.

"You're now so clean, baby," Jeno patted your ass, which made you wince. "Now, let's get to photos." He handed you your camera and directed the shoot himself, coming up with all the perfect angles, lighting, and photos. You just listened to him when he told you to take the photo.

After the photoshoot, Jeno texted his manager to tell them he'd finished. "Are you planning to go to the fashion show?"

You nodded, "I have to go, my boss told me I need to network."

"Then, will you be my plus one?"

"Like walk the red carpet?"

"Maybe."

You sighed, "Just don't slow me down."

"I think I should say that to you," Jeno said as he grabbed your ass, making you moan as you lean into him.

#oracle of dreams #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #jeno x reader #nct jeno #jeno lee #lee jeno #nct dream smut #nct smut #jeno smut #jeno #x male reader #x reader #x male smut #nct x male reader #x male y/n #nct dream

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tttt06 · 2 months ago

Text

The Apocalypse

Warnings! Gore, zombies, probably some angst if ya squint, size kink, death, apocalypse. Nobody dies, and it's still unserious.

Past K-pop Idol x International Black reader

Synonpsis~ A world where zombies made a sudden outbreak. You were only a fashion assistant. How the fuck were you going to survive. Well, 8 men pulled you into this large building. It had food, water, and people. With the help of Chan and Felix translating and Minho helping with your Korean, you muster up a relationship. One cuts deep with the buff Australian.

Word Count~ 7.2k

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. I mean, I had plans for the future. I wanted kids and a husband, preferably buff. One minute, I'm running from zombies, and the next, eight Korean men are shoving me into a building.

The sound of helicopters filled the silence. I hadn't spoken since everyone was speaking in a foreign language. I wasn't from here. I was a fashion assistant on a trip with my boss friend.

Now I'm in a building I don't recognize with 8 strangers.

It was cold, probably from the winter snow. They were watching the TV, inspecting the newscaster's words, hanging onto every word. I was shaking in the corner, and not from the cold.

Surprisingly, the building was still up and running. The place was toasty.

I was shaking because I was terrified.

"You okay? No bites?" I looked to see who it was. I was flummoxed by his accent.

"Yeah, no bites." He smiled, "This was not how I was expecting my day to go." I sighed, sinking more comfortably into the wall. "You think this is forever, or maybe it's The Walking Dead." The buff man shook his head. "Nah, no way. I give it a week."

Well, that week fucking passed, and we were still trapped in this damn building. The TV wasn't working. Providentially, there were a lot of wireless chargers. We were able to charge our phones. It wasn't hard to notice how people were posting less and less every day.

"Kai cenat still streaming." Felix scooted over to look. "No way." I laughed, watching as Kai talked screamed to the screen. Hyunjin was trying to savor his battery by opting to paint. At this point, I knew the boys well. I knew they were Idols, and they knew who I was as well.

I had become the closest with Chan only because of how much English he could speak. Here and there, conversations would start between Seungmin, Hyunjin, and Changbin... but never with the others. Chan confessed, "We're gonna run out of Buldak soon. We don't have canned food here." I said, terrified, "You think... we'd have to go out there?" Chan shook his head, "We'll go out there. Not you." I worriedly confessed, "But I don't want you guys to get hurt out there." Hyunjin turned from his canvas to listen to us. Jeongin said, "If you go out there, I'm coming with you."

I couldn't believe it. These bitches were finna risk their lives for some food. Sure, the convenience store was a two-minute walk, but they shouldn't leave out.

We weren't the only 9 here either. There were staff members. Some went missing. They left for the same mission and never came back.

Han was making it his mission to learn about what was happening outside, but the media knew as much as we did. Which was nothing.

We treated it like zombies. If we got bit, we'd die. I'm terrified of what would happen. Hyunjin broke my deep monologue, and Chan led by saying, "Let's just go. Grab some weapons and get there while we still can." Chan asked, "Who's going, who's staying?" I looked at everyone. Han stood, I.N. stood, and nobody else did. "Okay, Y/N, kids, hold down the fort, yeah?"

This is stupid. What I'm about to do is really dumb, but I have to.

"Wait," I uttered hesitantly. "Yeah?" Chan asked. I took a deep breath, "I'll come with you." Minho stood up and grabbed my arm. He shook his head, "Don't." He selectively chose his words. "I have to. I need to." Minho didn't let up, "You will die." I nodded, "I won't."

He knew I was not only lying to him but to myself. Shaking my head yes while saying no is a huge giveaway already. If that wasn't enough, I was trembling in his grasp.

Chan commanded, "Alright, grab some weapons." I looked toward the wooden railing. I gripped the top of the railing and pulled it off. Chan added, "You're a strong girl." I laughed at his playful tone and lifted it over my back. "I'm ready to get Zombie guts all over me."

I hopped over the fence as we went to the convenience store. Chan was carefully looking out as Han jogged behind me.

Jeongin smashed a zombie's head in. The brain matter got on my shoe.

Fuck, now's not a good time to admit I pass out when I see too much blood.

The sky was orange. It had been for a month now. The air was so still that it felt like the earth stopped spinning.

I bit my lip as I continued to look around, "Hey, isn't that the convenience store right there?" Chan looked over to where I pointed.

"It is. Let's go." Han ran to the store and opened it. He let out a long breath. The store was empty.

Chan said, "C'mon guys. Grab everything and go. Also, do not leave until we're all ready. The added weight is gonna slow us down."

I nodded and walked over to the snack aisle. I slid every snack into the big duffle bag. My phone's flashlight stayed bright as I searched for more food.

I brought my hand to the back and felt someone grab my hand on the other side.

My heart quickened as I screamed. "AH!" The hand let go, and I peeped through to see Jeongin. "Sorry, Noona." I smiled and waved it off.

"It's okay." I continued to look around to no avail. I announced, "I'll look in the back to see if I can find anything." They waved me off, and I jogged to the door.

I quickly learned the door was locked when I jumped behind the counter. I slammed my body into the door, leaving the door to burst open.

I moved my flashlight around and saw the piles of boxes. "Yes!" I bumped into something and felt a yank in my hair.

I screamed as I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder. It felt like I got bit by a dog. I whimpered from the pain, and I saw the boys running in.

The zombie fell to the ground, and Chan's eyes scanned my body. Han said, "SHIT! SHE'S BIT!" Chan ran to me and grabbed me bridal style. "We need to take her back now!"

They ran back to the company. Chan carried me like it was nothing while the boys stayed on defense. The streets were empty.

There were maybe one or two zombies strolling around the streets.

When we entered the building, I saw Minho's eyes go wide. Now that I could see how much was on my shoulder, I panicked.

"Oh my god! There's so much blood! Am I gonna be okay?!" Chan looked at me, "You'll be okay! Don't worry. Minju will help you."

I looked as the staff member ran to us. I felt myself starting to get dizzy as the blood dripped off my shoulder.

"I feel like I'm about to pass out." Chan sat me down on the couch, "I'll get you some water." I nodded absentmindedly.

The woozy feeling only developed more. And as the seconds passed, I passed out.

When I woke up, I was in bed, and a bandage was wrapped around my shoulder. I lifted myself up to see Minho carefully observing me. He was making sure I wasn't still feeling dizzy.

"Are you okay?" I nodded, "I pass out when I see blood. Wait... Am I okay? I feel fine."

Chan opened the door to see me up. He ran over and hugged me tightly, "Oh my god, you're finally awake!" I hugged him back confusedly, "Well, how long was I out for."

Chan said, "Two days." Minho called out, "Y/N's AWAKE!"

I watched as everyone bustled into the room. Felix was quick to give me a hug. Changbin held my hand as the other boys stared.

"I'm alive. How am I alive?" Seungmin explained, "Well, Minju thinks the zombie bites aren't spread through bites. It could be airborne... meaning, we're all going to die anyway."

I looked around at everyone, "Wait, what?"

I looked at them all, "We're gonna die?" Hyunjin's face turned solemn, "At least we're together, right?"

I nodded sadly.

Once everyone walked out, Chan was still there with me.

"I was so scared when you got bit. You don't understand what I was willing to do for you." I smiled lightly, "Channie..."

He grabbed my hands in his big palms, "Which is why..."

I listened to him, "I think you should cut your hair... I mean-"

"Chan... I can't do that."

He looked surprised that I said that, "Why? What's wrong?" I shook my head, "Chan, my hair isn't like yours. It won't just grow back in a couple of months. This takes years. It's not all my hair, but I can't do that."

His smile looked pained, "Please? You're already injured because I let you come with me." I shook my head, "No, I'm injured because I wasn't paying attention. Don't blame yourself. The bite will heal."

He sighed, "I- uh... at least think about it?"

I smiled, "Maybe."

A couple days passed. We were already getting nearer to the end of the December month.

We learned some things about Zombies. They don't pay attention to humans unless provoked, fight each other, and aren't hungry.

So, we have nothing to fight. Once we discovered that about them, the team became more relaxed. But they led us to more questions. Where have the rest of the staff and such gone?

"Big confession." I looked at Felix's round eyes as he spoke, "I'm the one who clogged the toilet." Chan slapped his shoulder, "Ew, mate. Fucking shit." I laughed at his accent and mimicked, "Fucking shit mate." Seungmin added, "Speaking of shit, the toilet?!" Lixie pouted apologetically. His freckles were frowning with him.

Chan called to me, "Y/N-innie. I need you over here." Chan was the group's leader, and apparently, he had the best means of survival skills.

I looked at him and smoothly walked over. He pushed a braid behind my ear. "Have you thought about what I said?" "No, I didn't. My hair is sacred to me." He half smiled, and that dimple popped out. "You have beautiful hair, but I'm just trying to keep you safe. It's so easy to grab... what if..." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I closed the gap and took his thick, pale hands into mine.

"I'll be okay." Though the Zombies didn't attack often, when they did, it would cause a herd.

Chan looked at me like I was crazy. "You make my anxiety go up. So stubborn." He whispered that last bit. He looked into my eyes. They made me feel so safe and seen. He looked like he was telling me something in his head over and over.

"Back to this. So I found a second generator in the basement of the building so we can get working showers again." I cheered, "I was getting tired of the B.O." He smiled, "I wanted you to come with me." I raised an eyebrow, "Why?" He shrugged, "We have the best chemistry together."

I laughed, "What the hell? Or are we the ones that have begged the most for the shower?" He rolled his eyes, "That too." I giggled, and he just stared at me.

His eyes went soft as I laughed. "I'm glad I can still make you laugh in a time like this." I tilted my head, "You always make me laugh."

He motioned, "Let's go tell the boys what we're doing, and we're out."

I gripped the flashlight as we traveled deeper into the lower levels. Chan had attempted to make conversation but could tell I wasn't feeling it.

That was until he asked me, "How does it feel? To have lived before this and for it all to be for nothing?" I stopped and looked at him, "Where is this coming from?"

His face had an unreadable expression. He sighed and looked at the ground. "I feel like I failed at protecting my fans." I patted his back, "Ah, that's not your fault." Chan shrugged, "My fans are out there lost and walking alone. It's been close to a month of us dealing with 'zombies.' How are we supposed to get back into making music." I looked at him.

Wow, he must've been really contemplating this for a while.

"I think it feels horrible. I had my dream job that I worked years to get, only for my boss to be (I assume) dead. I think my family is gone, my clothes are probably being worn by another surviving family, and the world is all in one big shit hole. So I get the feeling."

He smiled, "I'm glad you relate to me a little bit." I added, "I will never understand the feeling of having fans, but I think it's similar to having people back home rooting for you. And in a sense, I feel like I sorta let them down."

Chan wiped his eyes. "You crying?" He shook his head, "No, the dust is just gnarly down here." I kissed his cheek. He froze like a statue. His ears were the brightest red I've ever seen.

"C'mon."

When we came back, the water was on. Chan had been silent the rest of the night.

I guess I really messed with him when I kissed him on the cheek.

I again was sitting in the main lounge area. Seungmin was the first to turn in.

I had gone to bed also.

Ever since that day with the bite, I've been getting nightmares.

I woke up in a cold sweat and looked around. My heart was beating so fast, I felt so scared.

I felt like zombies were gonna come and get me.

I walked out of my room and into the dining area. There, Chan was on his laptop. He looked up in surprise. "Hey?" He smiled, "What are you doing up?"

I shrugged, "Couldn't sleep." He smiled, and I asked, "Well, what about you? Why are you up?" "Well, this inspired something in me. I've been saving battery on my laptop to make one last song."

He grabbed my hand, "You hungry?" I shook my head, "I feel like I could throw up." He furrowed his eyebrows. Chan placed the rear of his hand on my forehead to check my temperature.

"Ah, you sick? From the bite?!" I laughed, "Nah, just sweaty... I guess."

He said obviously, "You're not sweating." I rolled my eyes, "Okay, I feel hot."

He sighed, "Nightmares?" I blinked, shocked. He just read me like an open book.

He said, "The last couple of days, you've been sluggish, Y/N. You haven't been sleeping well, and you won't eat. Minju said you were fine... but I think that night fucked you up more than you're letting on."

My lips went to a thin line, and he glanced at my dimple. I didn't miss the look of affection on his face.

"What's really going on Y/N?" I shook my head, "I saw someone get shot as a kid, and I had night terrors. When I see blood, I panic and pass out... I've been having worse night terrors now."

His eyes scanned mine as his hold on my hand got tighter, "Don't make this weird, but do you wanna sleep in my room with me?" I only blinked.

I got that from Minho.

He smiled, "Don't leave my question hanging."

I smiled, "If you're okay with my sweating up your bed." His smirk sent heat down my stomach. "Oh, you don't know what I'd let you do in my bed."

I smacked his shoulder, "Chan!" He started laughing, and I got up. "C'mon." He smiled and walked me to his room. He looked me over, "You sleep in those clothes? Those are jeans." I laughed, "I don't have pajamas..."

He went to the pile of folded clothes in the corner and passed me a T-shirt and sweatpants. I laughed, "The shirt is enough, Chan."

His eye showed a glint of something unreadable.

I said, "Turn around." He did me one better and walked out of the room. He whispered, "Knock when you're ready for me to come in."

I changed and ran to the door to knock on it. Chan opened it and looked me over. His ears were turning bright red. "Okay, get in the bed. I'll sleep on the floor."

I furrowed my eyebrows, "Fuck no! What if there's a zombie under the bed, and it eats you?!" He waddled over me and hugged my waist.

He pushed me to the bed and said, "I'll survive." I bit my lip. I liked the way he manhandled me.

"Channie, I'm serious. Sleep with me. I need you to hold me." His eyes widened, "You...need... me?" I nodded, "C'mere." He nodded absentmindedly. He let me drag him to the bed.

He plopped down, and I laid my head on his chest.

"Night Y/N-innie."

"goodnight Channie."

When I woke up, he was gone. I searched for him, only to find Minho and Hyunjin.

"Uh, where's Chan?" Minho looked me up and down. Hyunjin was staring.

"What are you two looking at?" Hyunjin teased, "What'd you two do last night? You have his clothes on." I looked down and pulled on the corner of his long T-shirt. "I was tired of wearing jeans to sleep."

Changbin walked in loud as ever, "Did somebody say new jeans?!" His voice boomed in the hallways as he came back with food.

Jeongin placed down a huge box, "We went on a food run. Also, got your pads, Y/N." He tossed the pads, and I squealed, "Yay!"

Jeongin continued, "We have something to show you." I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

"What? What's the problem?" I entered the front lobby and watched the older guy in a torn-up suit stand beside Chan. "We found him on the street running from a herd of zombies."

I quirked an eyebrow, "So, who is he?"

I looked over the man again. I have never seen him a day in my life. He said in Korean, "I'm a scientist. I got kicked out of the government facility because I did illegal testing on the zombies. I was trying to help."

I blinked, "So, what? You know the cure?" He laughed, "No, not at all. This big guy over here kidnapped me." He aggressively patted Chan. My eyes followed Chan, "What are you planning on doing to him?"

Chan let him go, "I want him to save the world... using you."

The scientist guy settled in rather quickly. Too quick for my liking. He was only here for thirty minutes, and that nerd was already munching on our snacks.

I asked, "Do you know how this happened?"

The scientist said, "Yes. There was a meteor we'd been tracking because it threatened to hit the Earth. It hit the Earth and spread a gas that affected the human brain. This resulted in non-threatening zombies. Ones we can cure with the right stuff."

I asked, "Well, what's a possible cure?" He sighed, "Perhaps someone with an immunity. I do have to say, you do realize that only some Asian countries are having this problem, right? The states, Canada...et cetera, are all okay." Chan blurted, "Australia?"

The man said, "The zombies couldn't survive there. They died the same day." Chan looked relieved.

I asked, "I got bitten... does that mean anything?" He said, "Yes, well.... maybe. The chemical isn't in the air anymore. I know new soldiers went to the rock and returned fine. So, we've either started building an immunity, or the chemical has become dormant. I can certainly run a test and see what's happening in you."

Chan's hand went to my shoulder, "She's gonna be okay? We're all gonna be okay?" He nodded, "We just need a cure." Everyone looked so relieved.

I walked to my room. I needed time to myself. It was so much. We were gonna be okay, but to what extent. I would never see Chan again, or Lixie, or any of the boys.

I sighed as I curled up in my bed. The knock on my door echoed through the room, "Come in." I knew who he was by his footsteps.

Chan sat on the corner of the bed and asked, "When'd you get so good at Korean?" I said, "Minho had been teaching me."

He let out a light laugh and got up. He went to the side of the bed I was facing and squatted close to my face.

He whispered, "You doing okay?" I nodded. My fist wrapped up in the covers. Chan said, "You sure? It looks like something else is on your mind."

I sat up, "I'm trying to understand myself." His eyes followed my movement. I looked at him, and that spark in my eyes answered the inner questions.

I like him.... more than a friend should.

Chan smiled, "We're gonna be okay. Focus on the good for now."

Before he walked out, he added, "Question, you sleeping in my room tonight?"

My eyes widened, "You're okay with me doing that?" He smiled, "I'll happily let you sleep next to me for as long as you'd like." I smiled, "Yeah, I'll turn in soon."

It wasn't soon. I was too nervous to enter Chan's room. Now that I know how I feel about him, I felt like I was taking advantage of him.

I bit my lip as I crept into his room. He was sound asleep. I lifted the covers, and he stirred awake. "Sorry." He smiled, "Finally, you're here." He scooped me up and little spooned me.

His hands were careful where to touch. I closed my eyes in agony. I was horny now. The way he was touching me felt so good. His hands rubbed small circles on my womb.

I scooted my hips into his crotch, and I felt him harden quickly. His hands jerked to my hips and kept them still.

I turned around and stared at him. I could see the hunger in his eyes now. I leaned in and kissed him. His lip bit my bottom lip, and the next thing you know, his tongue was in my mouth.

He explored my mouth with his wet tongue. He pulled away to get some air.

He pulled me close and started ripping his own shirt off my body.

He sucked my chest, making me give him a moan. He flipped us over as he towered over me.

He took off his shirt, revealing the carefully sculpted abs. I whimpered when I saw it. He dove down to give me another passionate kiss.

I was happily okay with the passion. When Chan pulled away again, he hesitated. He looked down at his hands and then at me.

"What's wrong?" He got off me, "I- maybe we shouldn't do this." I furrowed my eyebrows to reach for him, "What? Why?" I reached out to him, but he flinched away.

My eyes lingered on his arm. "You don't like me?" He laughed, defeated, "Of course I do. I just... I can't." I was so confused. I liked him a lot, and now he was rejecting me.

I got up, "Fine," and I left. The tears streamed from my eyes as I ran to my room. I met with Hyunjin and Felix in the lobby.

"Yah! What's wrong?" I shook my head, and Felix ran over and hugged me. "Why are you crying? What happened to your shirt? Did something happen?!"

"Chan he- he..." Hyunjin's eyes widened, "He what?!"

Felix looked in disbelief. I started to realize how this looked, and I calmed down. "No! I was sleeping in Chan's bed, and we started making out, but then he told me he couldn't go any further. I don't know if I did something wrong or if he hates me..."

Hyunjin took a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "So it was consensual." I nodded, "YES!"

Hyunjin hugged me tightly. Felix sat, "Why were you in his room in the first place?" I pouted, "I was having night terrors."

Felix sighed. I continued, "But Chan invited me to sleep with him. I really like him, so why would he do this?"

Hyunjin joked, "Probably because he hasn't gotten any in a while and is rusty," I laughed. Hyunjin continued, "You wanna sleep with one of us tonight? So you don't have night terrors."

I nodded, "Who do you pick then?" I smiled, "Hyunjin tonight and Felix tomorrow!" Hyunjin grabbed my hand gently and swung it between us. I giggled, "See you tomorrow, Lixie!" Hyunjin and I skipped to his room. He took another look at me, "You wanna wear my shirt to sleep? It's not ripped up, and it'll be longer than the one you're wearing." I looked down at my ripped shirt, showing my bra.

I covered it quickly, "Sorry, you were in such a panic earlier I didn't want to tell you." I ran to his mini closet and looked for something to wear. "Ou, a Jersey. Oh my god, is this Versace?!" I pulled out the shirt, and he laughed. "You stop it. Now, put on any shirt you want and go to sleep."

I threw on a random graphic-T and got in his bed. Hyunjin had made his way to the floor, and I scooted to the edge of the bed. "Do you have to sleep on the floor?"

He smiled, "This is a... uhm... what's the word when friends sleep at each other's house?" I smiled, "A sleepover?" He smiled, "Yes! This is a sleepover."

I laughed and cuddled more into the bed. "Do you think I have a chance with Chan?" His hand reached for the ceiling and stayed there. He stared at his fingers as he thought.

"Chan has stuff going on, y'know? He always does. Maybe you would if he allows himself to love people again."

I said mindlessly, "What, he dated a gold digger once?" He lifted up and stared at me in shock. "Yeah! How'd you know?" I laughed, "Just a guess."

Hyunjin said, "He loved that girl. We thought of her as a family. We found out she was transferring money to her accounts and planning on leaving. On top of that, she had a boyfriend too."

I shook my head in disbelief, "Wow, she's horrible." He nodded, "Yeah, she was."

I raised an eyebrow, "Was? Nah, she still is." Hyunjin shook his head, "Nope, was. Her boyfriend killed her." My mouth dropped open. "You're fucking lying."

He nodded. "Chan still loved the girl, so... it probably hurts him."

I had nothing to say. I was in shock. "Okay, wow." It got depressingly silent as I thought about Chan's past.

I bet you'd never be able to tell on TV. I bet he was laughing and pretending to be okay, only to go home lonely. Maybe that's why he likes me.

I asked, "What was she like?" Hyunjin said, "She was kind and took the time to get to know us. Even after they broke up, she would still reach out to us occasionally. But, again... she was hiding shit."

I nodded, "I feel bad for talking about her. We should turn in." He turned to his side, his back faced me. "Goodnight Y/N." I smiled, "Goodnight Hyunjinnie."

I was woken up by a scream. Hyunjin and I stirred awake. We looked at each other as another scream echoed through the hall. Hyunjin grabbed his bat and my hand.

We ran to the main lobby. That's where the screaming was coming from. "I HAVE A BREAKTHROUGH!" Everyone was gathered in the lobby, confused. Changbin grunted, "Why are you screaming, old man?"

I looked at Changbin and mouthed, 'Watch your mouth.' Changbin looked down with a grunt. He gets grumpy in the morning.

When I looked around, my eyes locked with Chan's. He had pain in his eyes. He was staring at Hyunjin and me. Our hands were still together, and I wore Hyunjin's shirt instead of Chan's.

I get how it looked, and I let him believe it. If he really believed in me, he would at least ask.

"Y/N, can I trouble you for some blood?" I quirked an eyebrow as I stared at all the bandaids on his arm.

"How many times you plan on stabbing me?" He rolled his eyes, "You're obviously not scared of needles. You have a tattoo." I looked down at my thigh. I did have a big tattoo there.

"Yeah, go ahead." I let go of Hyunjin and walked over to the scientist. I said, "What's your name? You never told us." He smiled, "Call me Dr. Acanthopis."

Felix's eyes lit up, "Like the Australian spider." Acanthopis quirked his bushy eyebrows, "Yeah, that's right." Felix looked proud of himself.

I went to the makeshift lab with Dr. Acanthopis. He just put his supplies in the small nurse's room. I assume this is where people used to get IV drips.

I sighed as I looked at the broken clock. "How long will this take?" He said, "I don't know. Just sit and relax." I wiggled in the seat and sighed.

I closed my eyes as I smelt the alcohol in the air. The smell I always smell before getting a shot.

Acanthopis poked the needle, "I need a lot of blood." I nodded as I kept my eyes shut. I said, "I should probably mention I pass out when I see blood." We sat there for about two more minutes before he pulled out the needle.

I heard a glass break, and I opened my eyes to see the blood spilling on the ground. "Oh no." I blacked out right on that hospital bed.

I started to wake up a little and heard voices. "Is Y/N okay?"

That was Chan's voice.

Dr. Acanthopis said, "Yeah, she'll be fine. I just dropped some blood on the floor, and she passed out."

Chan let out a desperate breath. I felt him get closer and move my braid behind my ear. I tried to stay steady and still.

Chan said, "Please, keep an eye on her. She likes to eat the strawberry ice cream after she gets up."

Did he remember that?

Acanthopis clicked his tongue, "Noted."

Once Chan left, I opened my eyes. Acanthopis turned around as he moved the vials of blood somewhere else. Acanthopis mentioned he went to the fridge, "You gonna tell me what that was?"

I scooted up on the bed, "Nothing, Chan and I are going through something awkward."

He turned around and crossed his arms, "You speak Korean like a baby." I rolled my eyes, "You speak English like one, too. Piece of shit." He laughed, "Just an observation, no need to get sensitive."

I bit my lip and played with my fingers on my lap, "Hey? Are you actually upset?" I shot him a look, "No. Well, yeah, but not about that." He walked over to me and checked my wrist pulse, "Then what are you upset about?"

I sighed, "Chan, he's just... pulling back." Acanthopis said, "I say, I give you two liquid courage. What do you say, hm? We throw a party?"

I only laughed, but Acanthopis was being dead ass serious. He pulled a bottle of Soju from the fridge. "It's unsanitary that you keep blood and Soju in the same fridge." He shrugged.

"Get up, and let's go." He carefully watched me. He walked over to help my dizzy body get up. "I told you I took a lot of blood. I'll get you some strawberry Ice cream." He winked at me as he helped me to the lobby area.

Next thing you know, I was eating Ice cream in a circle of drunk men.

"Uno out!" Chan put his card down, and I sighed. I was too drunk. Chan was the only sober one there.

Felix screamed, "NO! ANOTHER ROUND!" Hyunjin checked his ear for blood, and I laughed. "Lix, relax! There's still four players in the game!"

Felix's face was dark red. He looked around and everyone laughed, "Oh, okay." I groaned.

I looked through my fifteen cards. Lee Know made me pluck ten, and now I'm in deep shit.

Seungmin put down five '0' cards. "What the fuck?" I lifted all his cards to see he snuck in a 1. I threw the card directly at him as he laughed menacingly.

I took another shot before putting down my three reverse cards. We sat there for maybe ten minutes, figuring out which direction to go.

I sighed, "Binnie, you're next." He squinted at his cards as he silently decided. Changbin sat there for a good five minutes just thinking. Seungmin said, "PUT A DAMN CARD DOWN ALREADY!"

Hyunjin clapped as he laughed and waited for Changbin. Felix was lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

I think he passed out because Hyunjin started looking at his cards. I shook my head, "Changbin-ah, it's just a game."

He leaned in and showed me his cards. I giggled next to him and told him which ones to throw down. I couldn't help but see Chan staring at the corner of his eye.

Chan's jaw clenched. He looked like he was seething.

"Hey, I'm gonna check out. You're all too drunk for this game." He laughed politely and got up. My eyes followed him as he left the room.

Hyunjin nudged me. I looked at him, and everyone stared at me. "I'm in charge of cheering him up now, huh?" Jeongin nodded, "I don't know what happened with you two, but he's been quieter."

I bit my lip and stood up. The trip to Chan's room was quick. I knocked on the door, and there was no answer.

I sighed and opened the door anyway. Chan was sitting on his bed with his headphones on. I walked next to him, and he jumped.

"Y/N!" I sat on the edge of the bed and asked, "What happened with Uno? No, what happened that night?! What happened to us? We are a team, but now, it feels like you hate me."

He only listened. "Y/N, I just... it's different..." I crossed my arms and leaned into him, "Different, how? I know about her." He quirked an eyebrow, "Know about who."

"Cece. Your ex-girlfriend." His eyes darkened, "What do you know? Why are you being nosy about my past?" I raised my hands in defense, "I'm not using her against you! And I'm not digging into your past. I'm saying I understand a little more about you."

Chan spat, "You don't understand shit." My heart skipped a beat.

He's mad at me.

My eyes began to water as he said, "Get the hell out." I cried, "No! I'm not leaving you alone!" He stood up as his voice roared, "LEAVE!" He grabbed both my wrists in one hand and began to drag me out of his room.

I rambled, "I'm scared that when this is all over, you're leaving me for good, and I'll never see you again."

He paused, "What...?" I cried, "I want to keep seeing you. I don't want you to shut me out! I need you! So, please don't leave me!"

He saw the tears in my eyes and let go. He pulled me into a sharp hug and whispered sorries in my ear.

He pulled away and wiped the tears away. "I don't need you crying over me."

I bit my lip as the tears kept streaming. Chan grabbed a braid and tucked it behind my ear, "You're such a pretty crier too." I hugged back into his chest.

Chan confessed, "I'm sorry for yelling. Cece is a touchy subject for me. I can't resent her because she's gone now. The only person I can be mad at is myself."

I lifted my head and looked at him, "I'm sorry for bringing it up." He shook his head, "Nah, I'm sorry for getting so angry. Listen, I found out later that her grandma couldn't afford insurance, so she dated me to help out her grandma. Sure, I felt used, but if I were in a situation like that... I'd do even worse to help my grandma."

I consoled him as I patted his back. "You don't have to put yourself in Cece's shoes. She took your hard-earned money. It's still valid to be mad at her even if she was a good person."

He just looked at me and smiled. But it was a smile I hadn't seen from him before. Something raw was behind those eyes.

I asked, "So, last night..." He looked at me, "Yeah, you and Hyunjin had fun?" I explained, "We didn't do anything. He slept on the floor. Hyunjin saw me crying and-"

"Crying? Why were you crying, Y/N?"

My eyes widened, and I quickly looked away. I played with my fingers, "I was so mortified. You rejected me last night." He quirked an eyebrow, "That's not what happened."

"What do you mean? I was there." Chan smiled that cute, dimpled smile as he plopped on the back of the bed. I looked behind me to view his face, "What's funny?"

"Do you know how pretty you are? Like, utterly gorgeous." My face heated up, "What are you talking about?" Chan said, "Last night, I was scared I was being too aggressive. It's been a while since a second party was with me in the bedroom. I forgot how to act."

I climbed on his lap, and his ears turned a dark red. "What if I like it like that? You don't have to have control. Use me like a little toy."

His eyes widened as I felt his dick harden underneath me. "Shit, Y/N." I smiled, "What?"

He grabbed both my hands and slammed me down into a kiss. It was messy and passionate. The sounds were wet as our tongues played in each other's mouths.

His hands traveled to my waist. I moaned in his mouth as he pulled off my shorts.

I pulled away to get the pants down. Chan stared at me and flipped us over. My palm landed on his big chest.

He started kissing my neck, and I wrapped my legs around his waist so I could feel him. His dick was so hard in his jeans. Fuck.

He always looked so good in ripped jeans that ripped at the thigh.

He swiped his thumb over my bud, making me gasp. His mouth sucked on my neck as he played with my pussy through my panties.

I bit my lip to stop myself from getting too loud. Chan's other hand lifted to my face as he forced his thumb inside my mouth. He opened my jaw, and the sound of my moans escaped my throat.

"Ah~ I want you to touch me." He teased, "I am babygirl."

My eyes rolled to the back of my hand as I felt his finger slip into my hole like nothing.

"Shit, Y/N. Why are you so tight?" He took off my shirt sensually. His tongue trailed down my stomach as I sucked in a breath. He looked up at me with that devilish smirk.

"Wait, d-do you ha-ave.... protect-" He shut me up with another finger. I moaned out as his mouth finally made its way to my thighs.

He kissed that part of my inner thigh that made me wet. "Protection? No." He asked as he steadily fingered me, "Why? Do you want protection?"

I shook my head, "If I get pregnant, we have nine months to save the world." He laughed. "You are fucked out."

He added a third finger, and his tongue made contact with my clit.

I gripped his hair as my legs wrapped around his shoulder.

"Mm~" He moaned while eating me out. It triggered vibrations on my clit. I let out an airy sound. An incomplete word. "Fu~"

He sucked harder as his rhythm quickened. My eyes closed as I relaxed. My eyes rolled behind my lids.

"That feels good?" I nodded as I scrunched my nose in pleasure. "Yeah. Cum for me, baby, hm? Cum all over my fingers."

I sighed as my pussy fluttered over his fingers. I felt my knot untie as I came uncontrollably. "Oh~ K-keep going~" He didn't stop moving his fingers in me. My grip on the sheets got stronger as he fucked my hole well with his fingers.

He pulled out as he stared at my gaping hole. "Yeah, you feel good?" I nodded. He pulled down his pants as he climbed on me. "Catch your breath, I'm not done."

He watched me breathe. He stared at the hickeys he left on my neck. I cupped his face and gave him pleading eyes.

I looked down to see his hardened monster cock. It was pale, long, thick, curved up, and the tip was a bright pink. The veins bulged from his hairless balls. I could visually see it pulsating.

I closed my eyes and whispered, "And he's big."

His cute smile contrasted with his rock-hard body. He smiled, "What you say?"

He peppered my face in kisses and said, "You thinking out loud, baby?" I nodded, "The group chat won't believe this shit."

His infectious laugh made me giggle. He asked, "You ready?" I nodded as he pushed himself into me.

His hands slid to my palms as he enveloped his hands into my open palms. My body rocked with his as he pulled out again and thrust.

"Yes," I whispered under my breath. Chan kissed my lips as he thrust into me again at a slow pace. The eye contact was intense as he watched my face.

I again wrapped my legs around him so he went deeper. As I felt him hit my G-spot, my pussy twitched around him.

"Fuck! That feels so good, baby!" Chan was loud in the bedroom. I moaned when he picked up his speed.

He dug his head into my neck as he fucked me fast and deep. "SHit! Shit! Shit! I'm cumming Y/N. Where do you want me?" His voice sounded so desperate in my neck.

"In me."

He fucked me harder, earning him a louder moan as I came with him.

I felt the pool of cum overflowing out. It dripped down my pussy as Chan pulled out.

I bit my lip, feeling the sudden cold rush of his absence.

He cuddled me close, "Don't be embarrassed tomorrow." I turned around to him, "What? why-?" He kissed me into silence.

He pulled me into his chest, and I sat there confused.

"Mm."

Han shouted, "Chan rock your world or what?" Everyone turned to Han, annoyed. Changbin was embarrassed, "We agreed we wouldn't mention it!"

Han shrugged as he drank his caprison.

Hyunjin said, "We heard your cute little moans last night." I said nervously, "Don't call them cute."

Chan's arms wrapped around me, "Yeah, I should probably mention. Y/N's mine."

And he's possessive!!!!

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