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xenyasplacex · 28 days

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BABY TRAPPED PART 2

Chris Sturniolo x Fem!OC

Summary: Chris is in a toxic relationship and the only thing keeping him there is his daughter.

warning- Toxic relationship, Miserable Chris, Shouting, Abuse, Physical Abuse, emotional abuse, Talk of isolation, crying

A/N : Soooooo, it’s been a while! see my dumbass thought i posted this a few days ago but turns out i just saved it to drafts 😍😍😍

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, REPOSTED OR TRANSLATED

Part 1 <—> Part 3

Things had changed in Chris’ household. Chris knew that through his life there were going to be times where he had to sacrifice certain things he thought he couldn't live without if he wanted their marriage to work and so far he had sacrificed a lot. Sometimes he thought about how younger Chris would look at him now. He had let this woman completely take over his life. First he had to sacrifice his friendship with nate who was a ‘bad influence’ on him, then he had to sacrifice his relationship with his parents who were ‘brainwashing’ him, then he had to sacrifice his friendship with Madi, Tara, Quen and Madison Beer because they were all ‘flirting’ with Chris and disrespecting his wife, he had to sacrifice his relationship with his older brother Justin because ‘he took to much of Chris’ time’. So, so, so many sacrifices had been made to make Aaliyah happy and yet here she still was, making his life miserable.

The couple were planning to move. That's what started the whole ordeal. The couple had decided to pack up and move to San Diego about a year ago and they only had 3 more days until they were gone for good. Well, to be completely honest it was more of Aaliyah yelling and Chris being too scared to do anything to stop it. Apparently she wanted to be closer to her dad and step mom which confused Chris because from what he knew, she hasn't spoken to her father since she told him she was pregnant. He still remembered when he told his brothers. Matt started crying on the spot which really did shake Chris to his core. Matt always said he hated Chris and thought he knew it was a joke he still didn’t think that Matt would be so distraught over Chris Leaving. They still planned to do Youtube. They planned to rotate, one week they would be in Los Angeles and the other they would be in San Diego. It would be tough but they had no other option. The whole argument started when Chris had stated he wasn't sure if he liked the dark brown wood for the floor that Aaliyah had chosen in front of their interior designer. He wasn't rude or malicious, he was simply voicing his opinion, but it was enough to have Aaliyah beating him for “embarrassing her.”

“You ought to wrap that wrist up.” Aaliyah said from the doorway of their living room staring at her husband who was hunched over their couch, trying to wipe the remaining blood from his mouth. He looked up at his wife with nothing but pure terror. The tyrant was back.

“Relax, i'm not here to hurt you,” Aaliayh chuckled as she approached him. Laughing, she was laughing. How could she be laughing?

Aaliyah sat next to Chris examining his face and Chris simply froze. She had done this to him. She was the one to hurt him. She was the one who bruised him, she was the one who caused him to be bleeding out and now here she was, sat next to him like a loving wife. She leaned forward and abruptly brought her hand up to his face. By pure muscle memory Chris jumped back, preparing for the next blow to his already weak body. She laughed. Again. She laughed at his pain.

“I'm not going to hurt you silly,” She laughed, “I'm just here to clean you up.”

Her smile was so deceiving. With that smile she could light up an entire room, she could have bored you outta your mind listening to her ramble about the most useless things but you would stay there and listen in the hopes of even catching a glimpse of that smile. She is so addictive yet she was poisonous. Like a hard drug, something you can't seem to live without even if its slowly killing you.

After about half an hour she had fully cleaned Chris’ cuts and bruises and had kissed him so many times her lips were puffy and she was starting to feel slightly light headed. It was late, Adriana had been asleep for hours at this point and Chris was slowly starting to slip into unconsciousness

“I'm so sorry Chris, you know I love you right?” She said as she rolled on top of him in their shared bed.

“I know.” Chris said, not bothering to look at her, instead he stayed fixated on the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the same thoughts as always racing through his mind.

How did he end up here?

How could he let this happen?

Why couldn't he just man up and take his child and leave?

Why couldn't he protect his own child?

Why couldn't he tell his brothers?

Why couldn't he te-

“Chris!” Aaliyah yelled as she sat up, looking at him slightly agitated.

“Huh?”

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

“No.”

Alliyah simply rolled her eyes before getting off him, “And im not good enough for you to listen to as usual. Some excuse of a husband you are.” She grumbled angrily.

Chris knew he had to deescalate whatever it was that was brewing or he could end up sleeping in his car tonight, so he sat up, resting against their head rest before picking Aaliyah up slightly and sitting her on his lap. He then kissed all over her face down to her neck until she was giggling uncontrollably.

“Chris stop!” She laughed, not pushing him away though.

“I'm sorry, it's not that I wasn't listening to you, I'm just so tired. Tell me what you were saying again, I promise you've got my full attention”. Chris said before resting his head on her chest.

It was moments like this when Chris thought maybe things werent os bad. He was here with his wife, in their joint bed, kissing and laughing, enjoying each other presence, basking in joy and lo-

“I think it's about time we cut off your brothers.”

Moment ended.

“What?” He asked, whipping his head up. He was shocked. Him and his brothers were a package deal. It had been all of them or none of them for so long. His brothers were something he could rely on because they were countistant. You can’t exactly stop being a triplet after all, and now here she was. Getting rid of the one piece of consistency he had through tough times.

“Chris, you are far too reliant on them, I mean 3 weeks ago we got into a little argument and you picked up our child and spent the night with them. That's not normal Chris.”

It wasn't a little argument. She hurt their daughter. She hurt his daughter.

“Listen to me Chris,” Aaliyah started again, adjusting herself slightly so she was straddling him, “Chris I love you, I’m doing this because I love you. I mean what type of example would that set for Adriana? You need to learn to be strong on your own. Not with Nick or Matt holding your hand through life.”

Chris was silent, looking down at his lap through the whole speech.

“Chris, I am all you need. You don't need them, the fact that you've cut everyone else off and have been just fine just proves all you need is me, you don't need anyone else Chris i promise you.” She said sweetly before pressing a kiss to his lips which isn't reciprocated.

“I just… I need to think about it.”

“What?” Aaliyah asked, sitting up and starting to get off Chris once again.

“Those are my brothers Ali, I can't just get rid of them.” “Yes you can!” Aaliyah exclaimed. “Chris when we leave in 3 days you are to block their numbers and get rid of them or I promise you, you will never see Adriana again. If me and Adi aren't good enough for you then you don't deserve us at all. You don't need them Chris but you need me and you are a coward and a cheating bitch for even thinking you can have all of us to yourself.”

“I've never cheated on you Ali…” Chris tried to protest but she cut him off.

“What, you really think I'm that stupid? All the times you ‘go to your brother's house to film’ you think i don't know you're out being a whore. You dont think i know your out there fucking any bitch who comes within a 5 foot radius of you. You don't think I know? You're pathetic.” She screamed at him. Chris couldn't even say anything. The claims were so far-fetched that he didn't even know how to defend himself. “Get the fuck out of this room Chris.” She said finally before turning over.

“Ali I didn't ev-”

“Chris get the fuck out of this room!” Aaliyah screamed again. When Chris didn't move, frozen in pure astonishment she started punching him in the head.

The first punch was enough to snap him out of this trans, the second punch was enough to kick off a heavy migraine and the ones that followed were enough to add more fuel to this fire.

“Get out! Get out! Get Out!” she screamed again and again, landing punch after punch.

Chris quickly scrambled to his feet and ran for their bedroom door, trying to avoid the objects that she was hurling at him. When he finally got out of the room he just stood there for a while taking in what had just happened. He had to get rid of his brothers. His shoulder to cry in, his light at the end of the tunnel. He had to get rid of them. Slowly Chris found himself sitting on the floor, knees to his chest simply sobbing. He had to get rid of his brothers.

He had to get rid of his brothers.

“Nick stop!” Chris laughed as he watched his brother throw Adriana up in the air before catching the giggling girl again.

“I can't stop, i'm not gonna be able to see my niece any time i want anymore, i have to take in every moment i can.” He said before resting Adriana on his hip.

“I still can’t believe you're actually leaving.” Matt said softly, looking at his triplet brother.

“Chris can you please tell him you'll call him everyday. I keep telling him we're still gonna talk all the time but the kid just won't listen.” Nick laughed, throwing Adriana into the air again. Chris’ smile faltered a little at that.

It had been 2 days since his argument with Aaliyah and she was still set on Chris cutting his brothers off. The only reason he was even allowed to come and see them was because he had promised that today would be the day he cut them off.

“Hey Adi, why don’t you we let Aunty Sunday put Nemo on for you the living room huh?”

Sunday was Matt’s girlfriend who Adriana absolutely adored. He watched as his daughter toddled into the other room before looking at the confused faces of his brothers.

“I need to talk to you two.” Chris stated bluntly before taking a deep breath and just letting out. It’s now or never and though he preferred never, he cared for his daughter too much to let her go without a fight.

“I love you guys. I really do. I love you with everything in me. You’re my best friends and I genuinely don’t know where I would be without the two of you but I just. I just think I need some time. Some time away from being a triplet to just think about my wife and my child. I just, I need time, you know?”

They didn’t know and they didn’t get it.

“Time? Like how long are we talking, like a week, maybe two?” Matt asked, Chris couldn’t bear this, he couldn’t even look at him. “Or like maybe a month?”

“I was thinking more like a few years,” Chris replied softly.

There it is. The bomb was dropped.

It was silent. Nobody said a word. Everyone was too shocked to even comprehend what had just been said. A break? For a few years? How does one simply decide that they need a break from being a triplet and how do they decide that need a break for so long?

Nick especially wasnt having it. Nobody optionally has a break from being brothers. Especially not triplets.

“What did Aaliyah out you on to this?” Nick spat with nothing but anger in his tone.

Chris and Matt were stunned but for different reasons. Matt because he couldn’t believe his brother would actually voice an accusation like that, and Chris because of how accurate it was.

“Wh-, what are you talking about Nick.”

“Don’t play games with me Chris. You don’t think we’ve seen the difference? You suddenly can’t make it to hang out or you suddenly can’t reply to messages after a certain time?” Nick screamed as he stood up off his couch.

“Nick I don’t know wha-” Chris tried again before being interrupted again.

“And I’ve seen the bruises little one!” Nick yelled again.

Caught.

Chris was stunned. They couldn’t know. If they found out they would only see him as week and unfit to be a father.

“What the hell are you talking about Nicolas!” Chris shouted as well, taking a step forward.

Nick rolled his eyes before grabbing Adriana’s baby bag, picking up 2 clean baby wipes and quickly coming at Chris. Chris flinched hard but that didn’t stop Nick from swiping the wipe across Chris’ face, revealing the concealer he was wearing and a purple bruise that had formed on his face.

“Yeah then what’s this?” Nick yelled showing his younger brother the wipe.

“Nick,” Matt interjected, trying to calm everyone down, “let’s all just take a deep breath okay?”

“What the fuck Nick, how dare you accuse my wife of something so evil! I fell down the stairs a few days ago! That’s were the bruise is from you sick fuck.” Chris yelled back.

“Oh spare me!” Nick replied. “So what happens when something happens to that little girl huh? What happens when she won’t let her have friends or go on playdates or go to the park? what happens when she isolates her daughter the same way she’s isolating you!”

“You know what, this is exactly why I can’t be around you. You’re all delusional and this sort of environment is not good for my child.” Chris yelled, picking up Adriana's baby bag and walking out of the room to grab Adriana.

He walked through the room, seeing Adriana and Sunday playing together. Without saying a word he picked his daughter up and started heading toward the door. “Chris? Chris what happened to your face?” Sunday tried to ask before hearing her own boyfriend running through the room.

“Chris! Chris stop!” Matt yelled while chasing after his brother who didn’t even turn around.

Chris walked straight to the car before gently putting Adriana into her car seat while Matt tried to calm him down.

“Please Chris, Nick was just trying to help, he loves you.” Matt tried to reason but Chris simply wasn’t having it.

“Nick he just accused my wife of beating me I can’t just le-”

“Chris!” Matt yelled, starting to get annoyed. “Chris we love you. More than anything and he’s just hurt that you’re leaving us. I mean a break? Come on Chris.”

That did make Chris feel bad. He always had his brothers. He wouldn’t be where he was now if not for them and now he was leaving them. Chris just felt so awful.

“I’m sorry Matt, I just… I just have to.” Chris replied softly looking down.

It was silent for a minute, then Matt spoke up. “Okay, and when this break ends we and Nick will be waiting for you, because we love you.”

With that Matt brought Chris into a hug. A proper hug. That was all Chris needed for the silent tears to come crumbling down. He was sure how long they were in that hug for before he felt another pair of area wrap around him.

“ I love you Chris, you have to know that.” Nick said, voice thick with tears.

“I know and I’m sorry. I love you guys too, both of you, so much” Chris said pulling away from the hug.

Matt then made his way over to the back of the car where Adriana had been buckled in.

“Hey baby, it looks like I won’t be seeing you for a while. You rember your Uncle Matt okay?” Matt told her making her giggle a little, not fully understanding the situation.

“And don’t forget your Uncle Nick either.” Nick interjected.

“Okay I promise I won’t. Pinky promise.” The little girl promised holding out her pinky fingers for both men to intertwine their fingers with.

The two said their goodbyes to their niece before shutting the door and looking back at Chris.

“Look, I don’t know what type of arrangement you and Ali have, but you protect that little girl or I will, you hear me?” Nick warned him.

Chris simply nodded, too emotional to trust himself to let out any sort of words.

“I’m sorry, and I love you guys,” Chris said one last time.

“We love you too Chris. You take care of yourself okay?” Matt said one last time.

With that Chris got into his car and started to reverse out of his brothers drive way while his two brothers watched. Once he had fully reversed, he caught one last glance at his brothers, noticing the tears streaming down their faces. He wanted to stop the car, run out and tell them everything but he simply couldn’t. Instead he gave them one last smile before driving off. Now he was fully alone. Nobody to talk to, nobody to help him. He had nobody at all.

And with that, one single tear swam down his face.

TAG LIST:

@betasturniolo

@mattsbitchh

@nicksloverrr

BONUS SCENE

Nick just stood there in his drive way, tears running down his face. “Now what do we do.”

With that Matt took his phone out, going to ‘find my’ where a moving air tag was displayed. Nick’s eyes widened slightly, realising exactly what Nick had done.

“Now we go and help our brother.”

A/N: Heheh, Part 3 has already been started 😘

luv ya,

Xenya 🖤

Part 3

#chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #spotify #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo edit #matthew sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #Spotify

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angryducktimemachine · 5 months

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"Where is Mr. Holmes?"

"Outside. In a field [...] striding in circles, he seems very much excited"

"Just what I didn't want. >:("

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Finally got to finish this. Had a busy weekend. Might add Watson later but for now I'm happy enough with how Holmes turned out :3 listening to him in Reigate Squire going from all tired and grumpy to soooooo excited to have a fun case... I just know he's jumping and twirling around with excitement when talking to (a very displeased) Watson.

Bonus Close Up because I tried and make him still look a bit sickly and tired from the events he's supposed to be on vacation for.

[ID: a digital drawing of Holmes, looking very excited and pointing towards the right with a big smile while kind of twirling on his feet. /End ID]

[ID 2: a close up of Holmes face. /End ID]

#Sherlock Holmes #the adventure of the reigate squire #acd holmes #radio Sherlock Holmes #with his blanket :)

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suppose-i-was-worm · 1 year

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Iceberg Siren pt 2

**I know, I know, it's fast, but I finished writing it and I'm super happy with how it turned out soooooo y'all have to deal with it.There is a mention of nightmares near the end, and a small bit of harassment at the beginning, but nothing happens and it's not graphic, so. Let me know if I need to tag those things, though! again, I'm not going to start a tag list, but the link for the AO3 version will be in a reblog, and you're welcome to follow that.**

Jason cursed himself for not getting Danny Nightingale’s number, days later when the bats were having a conference about why the Joker had been so quiet lately. B was chastising Steph for being flippant, and Jason was tired and ready to go home. He was also considering trying to find Danny and asking him out.

Something about the young man had seemed familiar- something in the way he moved, the way Jason’s heart thundered loudly in his ears when looking at his wide blue eyes.

“-son. Jason!”

He looked up- the entire batclan was looking at him. It was Dick who had spoken, who had stepped forward with his hand held out towards Jason.

“What?”

“How are you- uh- doing, with the Joker so quiet?”

Jason waited for the familiar green rising in his vision, but instead, he only saw Danny’s eyes, looking at him with understanding as he reeled from the death of the man who killed him.

“Fine. Can I go now? I’ve got some leads to follow up on.”

B grunted from his place at the batcomputer, and Jason took that as an affirmative, slamming his hood down onto his head and mounting his bike.

Roaring out of the cave, Jason headed toward Crime Alley. His recent partnership with Penguin had curtailed some more of the drug trade in his territory, but he still needed to keep an eye out.

As he rode, he felt a stirring in his gut, leading him to take a sharp turn and drive the wrong direction. He slid to a stop in an alley behind The Iceberg, and what he saw there made green boil up in his vision.

The new singer, Siren, was being crowded up against the dingy back wall of the club.

“I said no, sir.”

“C’mon, Siren, I know you were looking at me tonight.”

“Sir, do not put your hands on me.”

“If you weren’t such a whore, you-“

Jason cocked his gun.

“You’d better leave the Siren alone, asshole.”

The asshole turned, and Jason recognized him as a frequenter of one of the brothels in his territory.

“This isn’t your turf, Hood.”

Siren slipped out from under asshole’s arm, silky smooth and seemingly unencumbered by the tight dress he wore.

“He and boss have an arrangement.”

The asshole scowled, but as Jason dismounted his bike and stood straight, he ran away, shooting one last poisonous look at Siren before the darkness of Gotham swallowed him.

“Thank you. I didn’t want him to know I’m a meta.”

Jason turned to Siren, who was looking up at him with khol-lined eyes. Blue eyes.

“Danny?”

Danny winked.

“Hi, Mr. Hood.”

The door to the Iceberg backstage opened with a slam, and a man in a black uniform stormed out.

“Siren! You- Is this man bothering you?”

“Hey Matt.” Danny stuck out a hip, placing a hand on it. “You think anyone could truly mess with me around here?”

Matt glared suspiciously at Jason.

“If you wanted them to, maybe.”

Danny laughed and then headed towards the door.

“Thanks for your help, Hood! I’ll catch you later.”

He threw a wink over his shoulder, patting Matt’s arm as he passed.

“Let’s go in, Mattie, I’ve got to ask Boss about getting better security set up back here.”

The door to the club closed behind them, and Jason meandered back to his bike, a little dazed from the interaction. If he hadn’t already come to grips with his bisexuality, he was sure he’d be having trouble coming to terms with how good Danny looked all dressed up.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed Siren the first time- it’s just he had better things to think about, and pretty boys with even prettier voices were not one of those things.

But now- now that he’d met Danny, had seen vengeance for his own death paid in full, well.

Getting a date with the singer was number one on his list.

Penguin had Matt give Danny ‘the talk’. No, not about sex. About fraternizing with bats and birds.

“Red Hood’s the best of them,’ Matt said. ‘But he’s still got a bat splayed on his chest.”

Danny- well. Danny wasn’t really bothered. He had enough money saved up from his gig as the Siren, he could probably bounce from the Iceberg and find a place to live in comfort. Red Hood was hot, Danny was not blind, and he deserved a personal life.

There was also the matter of Red Hood’s half-formed core.

“Consider this though, Matt- I don’t care.”

Matt sighed and crossed his arms over his chest.

Danny leaned back on the couch in his dressing room, glitter still clinging to his neck and arms even after a shower.

“I just want you to stay safe, Danny. The boss and I both. You’re the best attraction we’ve got, and you’re a good kid too.”

Danny sat up, schooling his face into the picture of innocence.

“Thank you, Mattie, I really appreciate it.”

“You’re not going to stop seeing Hood, are you.”

With a shrug, Danny stood to pull his hoodie on and head out for the night.

“I’ll see who I want to see, Matt. Penguin doesn’t pay me to be lonely.”

Matt sighed, and Danny slipped out the door, pulling his hood over his head.

It was raining out in Gotham, so Danny took the long route back to his little apartment, deliberately jumping in puddles when there was no one looking. He was slowly coming to love the city, even though it might never truly become his haunt, his home.

The gargoyles and grotesques throughout the city made him ache for Sam, and the technology available in this world reminded him that Tucker was probably still using his old, souped up PDA.

He wondered what Tucker would do with a top-of-the-line WayneTech device. Probably marry it.

It was fine, though. He was safe, and they were safe without him. Jazz was happy in college, and Dani was content to roam the infinite realms while she stabilized.

Everything would be fine.

Ibrahim Yinsen didn’t particularly like living so near Crime Alley, but this complex was fairly nice for where it was, and his upstairs and only neighbor was nice enough. The young man worked for some club, probably as a busboy, but he worked hard from what Yinsen could tell, and he always had a smile and an inquiry about Yinsen’s cat.

Even this evening, when he ran into him at the mailboxes, his neighbor soaking wet, the boy didn’t hesitate to ask after Misha. They exchanged pleasantries, and the sopping young man handed Yinsen a cat treat before he headed up the stairs.

Ibrahim didn’t ask about the screaming during the night, even if he wanted to. He had his own nightmares, and he wouldn’t begrudge a traumatized kid. The first few nights, it had startled him awake, but after he realized what it was that his neighbor was screaming?

He got up and made cookies to leave at the young man’s door.

No one should cry out for their parents to stop- no one should try so desperately to convince their parents that they were alive, that they were really their child.

The Meta protection laws were supposed to help kids in that situation.

Unfortunately, Yinsen was with the rest of them knowing that not every case could be caught, not every child could be saved.

Danny Nightingale was one of the luckier ones.

#dp x batman #dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #dead on main #Arctic Siren AU #OC #Jason Todd #danny phantom

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loupy-mongoose · 1 year

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Unfortunately I'm still struggling with this funk I'm in. I keep having moments where I get excited about something, and then suddenly I'm just not feeling it anymore. (I suspect it's partly because of "that time of the month".) It's frustrating. >m<

But I was able to complete some special non-drawing artworks that I can share!

If, uh... anyone remembers me mentioning a sewing project I started however long ago that was, I finally got around to finishing that! ...And then immediately dove into another one. XD (I know I said I'd make a post about the process--I still hope to do that someday. Although now it's at least three posts worth of info lol.)

Soooooo... Here's the subject of that project!

This is the little critter that will be my plush Aneira! (Randy and Akoya's far-future daughter, for those who don't know or forgot.)

I tried to give her a slightly shorter left foot, to match her canon design, but the foot that ended up shorter was the right one. Sooo... I maaaay change that in-story as well. X3

But my follow-up project is something more special to me.

I wasn't satisfied when I set the two custom Mews up with the one I had bought specifically to be Randy.

So... I made him too. :3

And then I got a silly little idea.

I let them hold hands~

Every new plushie I make beats out the previous one as my favorite work of art, and Randy is no exception. I'm super proud of how he turned out, and happy to have him and let him cuddle with his beloved IRL! <3

Oh, and I also made a little necklace for Akoya with some beads I found at work.

She's purtty now. :3

#Pokemon #Mew #I don't remember if I had any special tags for previous plushie posts lol #Linden Roots #beeb

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mylovejimimi · 22 days

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The Kims, your breeding problem | SJ & NJ TWO SHOT PT. 1.5

— PAIRING: mafiaboss!seokjin x mafiaboss!namjoon x mafiaprincess!reader — GENRE: smut +18. minors dni — WARNINGS: omg none? sorry i didn't include much smut in this one, i didn't have much inspiration so i just made this to add a little context and to move the plot forwards. — SUMMARY: Desperate to save your empire and your name, you walk into the lion's den with a plan. Turns out those two lions had a plan of their own, and now you're the piece of meat they had been so starved for. — WORDS: 6k >>> You can read part 1 here <<< Soooooo it's been a while lol I have so many things to do omg but i'm happy i can give you something, even if is a little lame like this continuation lmao I swear to bring you something much better in the next one, pls forgive my dry mind and busy life, ilyyyy Please remember you can send me a tip by buying me a ko-fi if you like my works, it will meant the world to me ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ And as always, i look forward your thoughts on this. Enjoy !

Namjoon had picked an interest in you since he started in the whole crime business thing. You were big in that circle, more for yourself than for your family’s history. News always carried your name around, and then, one day, he had the luck to run into you in one party.

Back then, he was an orphaned eighteen years old whose only chance at life was to be a construction worker or a bouncer at a club, given his prominent height and overall bigger frame. Somehow, he ended up being a bodyguard at the service of some minor drug lord that loomed the outskirts of Seoul; he saw all kind of illegalities at work but could be proud of having never participate in any of them. However, any little remaining morals he had were thrown out of the window the day his boss was invited to a big party – the party your father was hosting.

The opulence of your mansion left his jaw on the floor. There weren’t that many people, but the power and easiness all of them exuded left him green with envy: no one there knew what was to have bellyaches because of how hungry you were to get sick for eating moldy food from the trash and having no hospital that would treat you, to fight to death with people that wanted to rob you or take advantage of you. None of them had lived a single tragedy, none of them even had to worry for breaking the law to survive and the possibility of prison time because all those people were over the law. It angered him; that party got him so furious to the point that he almost resolved to get out of that business, out of that circle of rich people, and start over as a fisherman in the sea or something like that. Or just go and jump under a train.

Just when he was about to turn around and leave, he saw you. There you were, appearing in a cinematic sequence: strutting down the staircase in your flowy, red dress, while all eyes were on you. You were in the spotlight, as always; shining more than any of the dresses and expensive jewelry being worn there. You had all the power in the world and you knew it, of course; he could see it in your prepotent smile, your ruthless eyes, your arrogant vibe. Only nineteen years old, but you showed so much promise and hunger for more – didn’t even hope for more, you just naturally expected it, felt entitled to more.

You were also very beautiful physically – he felt attracted to you like everyone else, after all –, but the poise and status you had entranced Namjoon beyond words. He decided he was going to be just like you, or even better. He was going to have all the power in the world. He was going to have you.

Seokjin, on the other hand, had always been lurking around you. Waiting. Plotting. Achieving.

In the beginning, he was the good guy. He was a nice kid, introverted yet polite and pretty smart. His family had served yours since your grandfather began his incursions into morally questioning matters. He was born into the same opulence you were, but it wasn’t his. He had traveled with you, and get to know many places far away, but as a servant. He had dinner every night on the same table as you, but he was the one picking up the rests of food you threw on the floor maliciously.

Each and every time he had to clean after you, carry your things around and put up with your whims and spoiled bitch tantrums. Insults, degrading words, and even objects were shoot his way by you any time of the day for any random reason. No other family member of his was treated as poorly as him, and no one knew why you picked on him. But he put up with all of it from birth until he turned fifteen.

Seokjin was a nice kid, but he always had a short temper, and each time it was more and more difficult to contain himself around you and your shit attitude. He tried, tried, tried but one awful day, you were in a bad humor and went to punch your favorite sandbag – him – who was in a worse humor.

That one time, you were both teens and full of hormones, each one dealing with their own teenage problems. You hated all you had to do to be better than your brother, please your parents and gain a second of their precious attention; Seokjin hated you and how he was chained to you to be your slave for God knows how long. You made his life miserable, always reminding him how worthless and stupid he was, how useless for society he was since he was so damn poor and dumb. You had said to him once – after sniffing a little crush on you from his part – that you could never give him a chance no matter how hot he gets because he would always be the same pathetic, useless bastard good for nothing but cleaning her shit; and that was exactly what he was remembering while washing your dishes when you came running to him at the scream of ‘you piece of shit!’. A crystal glass flew your way, followed by a plate, another glass and a ‘shut the fuck up for once, stupid bitch!’

After the big scandal you made in front of everybody – your parents, his parents and other employees of the mansion – your father gave Seokjin’s father an ultimatum: the violent little shit that almost hurt their precious girl gets lost before morning or all of them lose their jobs and get wiped out the face of the planet. Needless to say, within an hour, Seokjin was chased out of the residential neighborhood by your father’s thugs.

He wasn’t homeless for long; knowing the people in the business, he was linked by somebody to the same druglord that, years later, employed Namjoon. The old criminal took a liking in him when he saw his thirst for blood, his recklessness, his egocentrism; Seokjin was afraid of nothing now that he decided he wanted revenge and nothing else. So, he learned the ways, the ins and outs, and soon enough he befriended Namjoon, forming an alliance with him to overthrow the old drug master and start their own illegal enterprise.

Years working, years scheming, both with very different motivations but the same target: you.

…

Stirring up from sleep, you were disoriented for a good amount of time. You opened your eyes and set them on the ceiling but didn’t move, feeling soreness taking over your body from your feet to the last hair of your head. When you tried to move your arms and couldn’t was when you remembered where you were, and realized that your hands were tied again. You groaned.

As you were thinking what to do next, a snore interrupted your train of thought. At your right, Namjoon slept soundly on his back, snoring from time to time. At your left, Seokjin slept on his side with a frown on his pretty features – and both assholes had their sweats on and let you stark naked. Was it that they trust you enough to sleep with you or they were just dumb? Though, you were tied up, really sore, naked, and unarmed, so you weren’t exactly a threat.

Moving as little as you were capable while depleted of energy and having your hands literally tied, you sat yourself against the headboard and waited until the men woke up.

Did they really mean it when they said they wanted to make you pregnant? Had they read your mind? Because that was exactly what you had in mind.

After years watching your father wreak havoc everywhere he went, you realized his method wasn’t the most efficient always. Murdering the enemy to take their place? That’s how you conquered kingdoms in the Medieval Era, but not in the modern day; not when your enemy was as elusive and as informed as you. The many ‘surprise attacks’ your father orchestrated failed miserably, resulting in many of his men killed and his enemies to declare revenge against him. That was how your family was losing all its former power and glory, how you were losing money and influence. But you were smarted than that.

“Look who just woke up.” Seokjin groaned once he heard your voice, hosting a frown even before opening his eyes fully. “Prince Charming, the father of my child.”

“You’re fucking insane” the man muttered, sitting on the bed and looking at you in disbelief. “Aren’t you even the littlest bit worried about being held captive and forced to give birth? I can’t fucking believe you.”

“I told you there was no one like me.” You grinned proudly at him. “Besides, you’re hot enough to not ruin my good genes, so maybe I’ll give you a chance for the sake of my linage.” You expected him to tell you to shut up or something along the lines but it was radio silent. You saw Seokjin’s face transform in a second; his previous grimace turned in a stoic seriousness and he looked at you dead in the eye, with the coldest stare anyone has ever directed your way. His reaction did spark a little worry in you.

“What did you just say?” he asked in a mutter while taking hold of your arm, gripping it hard.

“Hey, this isn’t –”

“What did you just say – give me a chance?” he repeated with the same neutral tone through clenched teeth.

“Okay, chill, I’ll resist and kick and scream or whatever, no need to –” He interrupted you by pulling you close to his face, which sported a lethal scowl. His clutch on your arm tightened to the point you were sure it would bruise, but you were pretty shocked by the change in his whole persona to react accordingly.

“You don’t know who I am? You still don’t know who the fuck I am?”

“A fucking Kim? I don’t know what you want me to say, dude.”

“Fucking bitch! After all you fucking did to me!” the man yelled on your face, now shaking you aggressively. You refrained yourself from yelping and showing signs of fear, but the reality was that, this time, he was genuinely scaring you. What was he on? You hadn’t known him personally until that night. What could you had possibly done to him?

Namjoon woke up from all the scandal his brother was making; however, instead of being surprised and maybe even stop him, he just sat there rubbing his eyes, watching the scene unfold with a frown. Immutable, he saw how Seokjin left your arm alone and went for your hair, using it as leverage to make you stand on your knees when he stood up from the bed.

“I’m Kim Seokjin, that name doesn’t ring a bell?” The sting on your scalp made you groan but that wasn’t the answer Seokjin was looking for. “Answer me!” he demanded. Disoriented, you shook your head no, making him scoff. “Of course, it doesn’t. You made my life a fucking nightmare but you didn’t even bother to remember my name.”

“Man, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about –” And it was the truth. You didn’t have a clue of what he was accusing you of. You were far from an angel, that’s for sure; you had made many people suffer and turned many lives into a living hell, but Seokjin’s? You would remember fucking up his life. You would definitely remember a man like him.

“It’s so cruel that you don’t remember him, baby” Namjoon added calmly while lounging there on the bed, watching you like he was on the beach just admiring the waves of the sea –so unfazed by his brother’s outburst. It can’t be that serious, you thought. “He was that kid with glasses that worked in your house. You know, the one you kept fucking over? Your pet or whatever.” Your clueless face was the last straw for Seokjin, who threw you onto the bed with force. You grumbled when all your weight fell on your hands at your back but none of them cared. Your scalp still burned from Seokjin’s strong hold.

“I’ll make you remember me, stupid bitch” he promised through clenched teeth as his hands tugged brutishly the waistband of his sweatpants. Maybe it was the good shaking Seokjin gave you and the following toss, maybe it was the insult, but suddenly a light bulb went on in your head and you recalled who the man had been in your life.

“Wait, you’re that whiny bitch that almost kill me.” The older Kim clenched his jaw and pulled your body by the legs to his own standing in the side of the bed. You scoffed, putting all pieces together at last. “That’s the reason why I’m here? Seriously? It’s been more than ten years already, man, just get over it.” Now that you knew what was going on, it didn’t even surprise you when he took hold of your face abruptly. It was always so funny to you just how men would turn into villains because a girl was mean to them when they were twelve. “Wait, wait, let me be the bigger person here: I’m sorry, okay? I had always been a spoiled bitch and all that, but who could have taught me manners in that house? I was raised by literal criminals.”

“I couldn’t care less for your fucking reasons; you were more than a bitch back then and are a nuisance in the present. I should have busted your head open that night.” Albeit his menacing words, you didn’t perceive the threatening energy they should deliver. If anything, Seokjin seemed annoyed by his revenge. Reasonable, you thought, he had stretched it this long it, it’s no longer fun.

“Well, as I said before, just kill me now and finish with your fourteen or fifteen-years-old vendetta.”

“I promised Namjoon he would have you.” Still immobilized by Seokjin’s hand, you looked at the mentioned man by the corner of your eye; he gave you a wink and a smirk. That… you didn’t mind that. “And, as I said before, killing you would be the easy way out. You have to go through what I did and pay with your body.” A spark warmed your insides when his unoccupied hand cupped your breast – however, you still had a deal to seal.

“As tempting as a life being your sex slave sounds, I have other plans.” Disregarding you completely, the older brother started kneading your breasts with both hands. Namjoon joined him taking you by the armpits and yanking you up the mattress into a sitting position against his chest. “You said I was a nuisance, why?” A miscommunication happened between the brothers, because, while Seokjin remained silent with the intention of ignoring you so you would eventually shut up and know your place, Namjoon, who liked you, spoke up.

“You’re too strong. Your pussy has some kind of magic that makes men be loyal to death to you. The most powerful won’t let go.”

“Goddamn, Namjoon. Why are you telling her that?”

“She’s not going anywhere, hyung, this information is useless now. Besides, I’m wifing her and it isn’t nice to hide things from my spouse, don’t you think, baby?” You turned your head to give him a tight smile. It was dangerous to trust any of them, but there was at least one snake in that snakes’ pit that wasn’t going to bit you that hard – or even bite you at all, if you were nice enough to it.

“The fuck are you saying, Namjoon? This is not a damn rom-com.” Seokjin looked way too annoyed at his brother’s excuses, and you thought that maybe it was more personal than it seemed, and maybe your hypothetical wedlock had something to do with it – though, it would be illogical to you if a man like Seokjin felt anything but bitterness.

“And so what? My life is not all about crime and money, I want a family too, man.” His brother scoffed and rolled his eyes. Namjoon wasn’t someone that took offense in things that easily; however, he lived for irritating his hyung. “Sorry not everybody is as miserable and unlovable as you. I’m actually a pretty decent guy.”

“What a load of crap.” Seokjin let go of your body and stood up. “You turned me off with all that bullshit. So whatever, I don’t feel like using this bitch now.” Expecting him to turn around and leave the room, you were surprised when he went to the mini bar in the room, poured himself a drink and sat on the sofa in front of the bed.

“What, you’re going to watch us?”

“What else is there to do? I’m not leaving you with this simp. He is likely to let you go with a kiss on the forehead. Fucking cuck.”

“Well, this bitch doesn’t feel like being used now.” You looked briefly to the man behind you, to see if he was on your side even the slightest. He was not.

“You really think you’re calling the shots here, dear?” Seokjin clicked his tongue in disappointment. “We have a lot of training to do with you. Hoseok! Jungkook!” he shouted. In an instant, two men dressed in black entered the room solemnly; not a single emotion on their faces when they saw your naked body. “You will give all of us a show now. Learn that I decide what you do and who watches you doing it.”

When Namjoon secured his strong arm around your waist and descended a hand on your folds, you knew there wasn’t a way out but obeying that bitter asshole.

…

It was very difficult to find someone in the circle Namjoon moved in. He had already experienced three attempts of murder with beautiful women as bait, and an endless number of pseudo-dates with gold diggers. He wasn’t romantic per se, but he did yearn for an authentic, loving relationship, and a big family as a result – and you, that didn’t need his money because you had much more than him nor could kill him while being their hostage, were the very possible solution to his problem.

Namjoon’s desire to have a family wasn’t always as evident as in that point of his life, when he got all the financial power and influence he once dreamed of. Although life was great and all for him, he realized a feeling of hollowness that no amount of money, designer clothes or prostitutes could fill, or even conceal. Not anymore, at least.

He was smart enough to trace that desire back to his lack of a family since birth, and even admitted to himself that he needed tight bonds in the present as much as he had needed them when he was three or fifteen years old. It was not easy, however, to open himself completely to meet someone for an authentic, loving relationship. How to let himself be loved if no one had ever loved him? As uncomfortable as the feeling was, he needed to feel loved. He needed to be cared for. He needed to be important and special to someone for who he was as Namjoon the person, not as Kim Namjoon, Mafia’s Grim Reaper. Plus, he loved Seokjin as a real brother would, but he couldn’t rely entirely on his only friend for the rest of his existence; that man had a life of his own, after all.

Luring you into their mansion, then, was hitting the jackpot for him; even after all those years since he first saw you, he still had the hots for you. Having you under their thumb gave them absolute power over your fortune and business, and gave him the possibility to have a somehow okay relationship with a woman he felt attracted to and who had the same ideals as him. Killing two birds with one stone, right? And he was so sure he knew enough about women to know how to manipulate you so you would love him. It was brilliant, in his humble opinion.

Although, there was one potential problem that became more evident day by day: Seokjin. The man acted all mighty and unbothered, but after all those years working together, Namjoon knew better; he wanted to have you just as much as him, and not in a reversed-roles-revenge situation – which wouldn’t be so bad, if he wasn’t in a permanent childlike tantrum state. They had shared before, they could do it again, but as long as Seokjin denied his attraction to you and disguised it as a physical retribution for all you did to him, he would just be a pain in the ass for you and Namjoon.

…

“You know, when you said I was being held captive, I really thought it was just a figure of speech. Didn’t even cross my mind that you would actually keep me in this room like I’m an animal in a cage.” Exiting the bathroom in a white bathrobe, not at all like the ones in your home, you looked at Namjoon with a frown and crossed arms. He just stared at you innocently while sitting on the bed and folding your clothes.

“Sorry, princess, orders from above. Seokjin is in a power trip since you came so he thinks of you as his prisoner.”

“Aren’t you on his same level? Why are you letting him do as he pleases?” The man’s response was a nonchalant shrug. You cursed under your breath, decided to not lash out on Namjoon because he could be the only way out for you – and you really needed to be out of that room or you would actually go insane. You were sure it had been weeks already. “And what are you doing here, anyways? It’s been days and you keep coming and acting like my maid.”

“I like the domestic roleplaying.”

“So, it isn’t only that Seokjin doesn’t want me out but you also keep me here to play house?” Putting the last of the shirts he bought for you on the pile of clothes he also bought for you, he grinned and made an affirmative sound. “Is it that difficult to find a real girlfriend?” In your head, you meant it in a mocking way, but out loud it ended up sounding like a genuine question.

“You know it is, baby” Namjoon replied matter-of-factly. “You can’t tell me that all men around you are fit for a serious relationship.”

“Why would I want a serious relationship? I was loved enough as a kid, I don’t need that fairytale bullshit.”

“Good for you but some of us didn’t run that luck of having love or a family in our lives.”

“So I have to believe that, because you didn’t have parents, you come and act as if we’re a couple to feel like you’re actually wanted by somebody.”

“Oh no, I am really wanted by lots of people, but what I want is to feel loved by a person I consider my equal.” You snorted. It was the most ridiculous thing you heard a man say.

“Haven’t you tried therapy?”

“Not my thing.”

“Who says I love you, anyways?”

“You will love me. On your own or by Stockholm Syndrome.” You chuckled sardonically at that.

“You know what? You’re right. It’s either falling in love with you or with the viper that is your brother.” Loving them or not was the least of your concerns; first and foremost, you had to look after your enterprises and striking a formal relationship with the Kims was the least risky way. The family business was a kingdom torn apart that could not stand a chance if being put up against the Kim’s mafia.

“You know he is not actually my brother, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“It wouldn’t be illegal to marry us.”

“You really care for legality at this point?” He shrugged once again. “And you think I would marry you?” He got uncharacteristically serious in an instant.

“Look, I’ll be straight with you: I want a family because I didn’t have one. I want a wife and children and all that. It won’t work with just any woman but it could work out with you.”

“Why me?”

“Unlike my brother, I don’t underestimate you at all. I know you’re pretty smart and I know you figured out by now that an arrangement between you and a Kim will be only beneficial for your decaying family.” So, Namjoon was the brain there. You were mildly impressed.

“And for you and your unstable connections, since I’m such a hindrance for both of you and your affairs with powerful people.” He smirked at you and your sharpness. Not a single thing escaped you and he really liked that. “As strong as you appear, not many people trust two nobodies, huh?” Now you were talking. Namjoon clicked his tongue and gave you a real smile.

“You don’t have to say it like that, baby, it hurts my ego.” You shrugged.

“I see which one of you two has the balls.” When he chuckled, you noticed his dimples for the first time. Was it the domestic ambience and the casual sweats-and-shirt attire what made him much more attractive then than when you first met him? Whatever it was, you wanted him to start negotiating or just leave you alone – small talk and thinking about his hotness would not help you get out.

To your dismay, he put his big hands on each side of your hips and pulled you to him until you stood between his open legs, looking up at you with his head tilted and wide eyes. It was so intimate you almost gagged.

“Women like you get on my nerves, but” the man said lowly, holding your gaze. “I really like you, Y/N.”

“That’s my pussy magic.”

“Yes, but I also like you whole, not just when I fuck you.” His thumbs caressed your hips over the robe while he talked, and, for a moment, it felt real; like you had a bond with Namjoon, like he truly meant what he said. Nevertheless, you knew you were just hallucinating as a byproduct of the confinement and Namjoon being somehow nice – and he was taking advantage of that to make you slip, you could tell. Would he succeed? You didn’t think so; it's been days interacting with no one but the Kims, but the only person you knew you could trust was yourself.

“Listen, I understand you’re too deep into this marriage fantasy shit of yours but cut the bullshit, you don’t really know me, bud.” You crossed your arms and looked away in indifference, but by your peripheral view you saw him biting his lip slightly. Was he trying to seduce you now?

“May I get to really know you, then?” His eyes never strayed from yours, barely blinked even, as he leaned his head on your stomach. It wasn’t surprising that a man like Namjoon was so well-versed in being enchanting women; he had such acting skills that he looked genuine in his actions. Like he was really into you. Like he actually wanted you.

“No, you may not. And get out of my space, you creep.” Tittering, he let you push him away from your body. “And stop giggling at everything, it doesn’t make you look friendlier.”

What would he gain from making you trust him, though? It was true that you had more influence than them, and they killing you would not change that. Their best shot was to join forces with you to gain the favor of anyone, but it was vital you showed that you endorsed them. Then, what was he trying with you? You had no idea.

Namjoon got up from the bed slowly, his frame towering over yours and making you look and feel tiny (which your personal trainer could testify you definitively weren’t). A sudden tension raised between you two. His energy shift was accompanied with a hand stroking the side of your neck and a sleazy smirk. By now you got familiar with his changes in behavior, and oh, you were in for a very eventful night.

Sleeping with Kim Namjoon was just as enjoyable as you expected, if not more. The man wasn’t just about his pleasure, no; it seemed he also got off from giving you pleasure, as much as he could for as long as he felt like. Like in that moment, when he caressed your lower lip with his thumb as his lips descended on yours – both his hands also descending on your body. It made you so mad that his sensuous movements stirred some intense heat in your core. From the way your body reacted to him, you were sure he pulled a Pavlov on you.

“I’m telling you, sweetheart, you will love me.” In a swift motion, his strong arms hooked under your thighs and he picked you up roughly like you weighted nothing, walking towards the nearest wall to slam you against it. You yelped and cursed at him. Namjoon just laughed. “Are you sure you don’t love me already?” Your poorly tied bathrobe opened and exposed your naked form to the man’s eyes, who always enjoyed the sight and didn’t miss the chance to thrust up his clothed crotch into your bare pussy.

“Fuck you, asshole” you gasped, but didn’t fight him when he buried his head on your cleavage, making a path of kisses towards your left breast.

Namjoon took your nipple between his lips, sucking lightly and stimulating it with kitten-licks, but before a single moan left your mouth, the door was whipped open and Seokjin strutted into the room. If he was the least surprised from finding his brother feasting on your chest, he didn’t show it; he just looked at you smugly. He seemed in a much better mood than the last time you saw him:.

>> The last time he went to your room he was in a rage fit. You didn’t know but that day he tried bribing a congressman that was close to your father, who refused to switch sides and go against your family – the tenth failed attempt of turning people against you in the week. He was really mad and so he went to your room to fuck you and rough as punishment for existing and to let out off steam – which resulted counterproductive, because one, you actually enjoyed the whole thing, and two, as soon as he came, you started nagging at him to let you out of captivity. It was his last straw that day; with only his briefs on, he stomped out slamming the door behind him. Then, it was only Namjoon visiting you daily.

“I have great news for all of us” Seokjin began, standing less than a meter away from his brother and you. Uncomfortably close. “Please, carry on and don’t mind me, just listen.” The younger man ignored his brother completely, focused on sucking a hickey on the tender flesh of your breast. Closing your eyes at the pleasing sensation, you weren’t able to see Seokjin arch an eyebrow and take your jaw harshly, so you would actually pay attention to him. The biggest of smiles adorned his face when your eyes opened. “Your brother gave up, so daddy is planning on giving everything to you.”

“What?!” you gasped when Namjoon bit your nipple hard, jerking away from the other man’s grasp. Goosebumps raised on your arms from the stimulation – but as the information of your family sank in, your heart raced faster.

“Well, I assisted him to give up on life with a bullet to the head and convinced your father with a punch on the nose, but now everything is lawfully yours, and so lawfully mine too” he added with a proud tilt in his voice. Taking everything from your family was all he had wanted for many, many years; taking revenge on you was on a close second place, and killing your father would’ve been the cherry on top – however, that would only make you a more insufferable bitch than you were already.

Getting rid of your useless brother, though, was favorable for them and a way to get on your good side.

Your response was to throw your head back, groaning as Namjoon rutted his growing bulge roughly against your now leaking core. Having your legs spread and perched on the man’s hips made your folds part and expose your clit to the harsh friction of his sweats whenever he moved, and to the air when he withdrew. His wet tongue ran up your chest to your throat once more and nibbled his way to the tender spot under your ear to abuse the flesh there. You squealed high-pitched, chills running all over your body and ending up on your pussy. Pants filled the room and Seokjin was completely forgotten, as Namjoon increased the speed of his shallow thrusts and grinded hard to make you whimper; which the older man didn’t like.

Taking hold of your hair from the roots, he pulled back and turned you to face him.

“I did this for you, bitch, can you show a little gratitude?” he grunted through clenched teeth. You just looked at him through heavy lidded eyes, conscious of what he was saying but deciding to disregard him and his alleged altruism in favor of focusing in Namjoon taking his cock out and rubbing its head on your folds. Once again, Seokjin was left out of the bubble of intimacy Namjoon and you had inadvertently built.

How could you keep disregarding him as if he was a mere dirty rag? Hadn’t you learned to respect him in the slightest in all that time?

Seokjin wasn’t as dumb as everybody thought – he realized instantly what were the emotions that invaded him in that moment. Anger – and envy and jealousy. His masochistic side had taken over his whole self and made him want the very same woman que hated the most. What was it with needing to posses the one person you despised and who despised you back? He would never know and he didn’t want to. All he knew was that it was impossible to keep denying how his carnal desires had evolved into something more.

“I’m talking to you!” he yelled before taking your arm and yanking you with such force that you fell from Namjoon’s arms straight to the floor at Seokjin’s feet. Then, he took you by the hair, pulling you up to land on the bed, tightening more and more his grip on your scalp. Bewildered by the sudden violence, you could only look at him and notice his very read face and how the vein in his neck was about to explode. “Look at me when I talk to you, you stupid useless whore!”

“Seokjin, fuck! Calm the fuck down, man!” Even Namjoon was taken aback by the vicious reaction and didn’t know what to do. His brother had a really bad temper, yes, but since when he let himself go so wildly around you?

“All I have done since you came and you keep being a fucking bitch to me like you had always been, shit!” Seokjin kept yelling on your face until Namjoon pulled him away. Your scalp burned like never before.

You couldn’t discern what was really happening: they tussled, yelled at each other things you couldn’t understand and Namjoon even grabbed his brother by the collar of his shirt menacingly. And then a blow, and another, and another, and another, and blood. Soon enough, the cockfight grabbed the attention of the men that guarded the room and a sea of thugs dressed in black barged into the room to put the brothers apart.

And you?

You feigned fear and walked backwards, away from the fight, until you reached the door. And then you ran.

#bts one shot #bts x reader #bts smut #namjoon smut #seokjin smut #namjoon #seokjin #bts #mafia #mafia au #female reader #the title is silly but anyways #and then one day i came back

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desmond69miles · 5 months

Text

An Artists Eye

I don't know why but every time I try to update a post it doesn't work until I do it three times?? Boo. This isn't exactly how I wanted it to turn out but I'm semi-happy with the finished work, soooooo have fun.

I'm working on a 'part-two' (it's more of a part one, it takes place before this). Not sure when it will be posted, but it'll be out sometime. (Read it here!)

Arno finds your sexual drawings and offers to live them out with you.

AO3 LINK

Warnings: Fluff and smut, Google translated French, oral (r receiving) fem!reader, vaginal sex/fingering, unprotected sex, creampie (I hate that word), grinding/dry humping.

Word count: 3,491. It's been awhile since I wrote something this long.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Three years ago, you had the pleasure of Arno knocking you over. The streets of Paris had been bustling one fall morning, and you were late to a client meeting, scuttling down the street with your sketches haphazardly secured in your arms. You weren't looking - or maybe you were but didn't process it in time - when a man walked straight into you. It was somewhat theatrical--your papers flew up as you fell down. The man immediately bent down to help collect your sketches while muttering apologies, but it was too late; a good majority of your work had fluttered straight into a muddy puddle you narrowly missed.

As the brunette picked up what papers were still preserved, you worked on dusting yourself off. Once the two of you stood, you finally looked at the man's face, one of his gloved hands moving to push his hood back. "Je suis vraiment désolé, madame," he said, "I'll buy you a new stack of sketching papers." You blinked at his offer - somewhat distracted by his handsome face - and politely rejected it. "Non, c'est bon. I wasn't looking where I was going." The man nodded and handed you back your work, dismissing himself with a slight nod and smile before disappearing back into the crowd. You stood there for a few seconds while people passed you, their shoulders occasionally bumping yours, and you moved to put the papers in your messenger bag.

A few days later, the man randomly arrived at your door around eleven at night. When you opened the door, you were no less than shocked - he actually brought you a new stack of sketch paper! Then you asked yourself, how did he find my house? "Bonsoir Madame," he said. His brown eyes danced over your face, the same you had done when he knocked you over, and he extended his hand with the cartridge paper that was wrapped in a thin cloth to keep from dirtying. You take it from him, and your mouth flubbed open in search of some words. Finally, you decided on nothing more than an awkward "Merci... May I get your name?" The man chuckled, "Arno Dorian, and yours, madame?" Arno repeated your name once you said it, nodding along in confirmation. He left after denying your offer for coffee with a goodnight, and after you returned to your sofa, you undid the covers to the paper.

A small card with a fancy gold trim sat on the stock. You turned it around and looked at the fancy swirls of writing--If you wish for more paper, run into me at Café Théâtre. You couldn't help the wide smile that formed on your face.

Now, it will be your and Arno's second anniversary in a day.

You sat in front of your easel that held up your latest work, and one of your hands mixed up a beautiful blue on the wooden pallet held by your other hand. It was seven-ish, the sun hazily setting in the dimming sky, and the warm air of summer blew through the open windows of Arno's chambers. The ambient buzz of crickets and the fuel of early nightlife gave way to your soft humming of a lullaby. Occasionally, you'd hear the claps from the Cafe down below, a recitation of Hamlet playing tonight, and you've seen the show so much that you found yourself rehearsing the lines to yourself every so often. Your fingers plucked through your paintbrush jar until you found a suitable one and began to paint the shading colors of Arno's coat. Shading was the last thing that needed to be done, an easy task that could be completed quickly.

Arno was indeed your favorite subject to draw. Often, when you found yourself unable to sleep, you sketched him while he was resting--or when you found yourself with free time, you drew his body's familiar lines and curves in practice. Sometimes, these anatomical figures found themselves in... precarious positions, such as in nude drawings. Those were your personal favorites, your sexual admiration for him going past just intercourse, but that sketchpad had been stowed away in the very back of your closet in a box. Hiding your drawings wasn't something you liked; you were proud of your work, and you didn't shy away from drawing nude bodies. In fact, Élise's favorite work of yours was of a sexually deviant nun she had nicknamed 'The Sin.' But, you always hesitated to show Arno the drawings and paintings you have done of him. Neither of you was sure why; you argued they weren't perfect, and Arno argued you were worried that he'd judge (in truth, you were a little more than embarrassed to show the numerous sexual positions you had put your lover and yourself in through pencil).

However, you decided to face that embarrassment with your second anniversary, hence your eagerness to finish this portrait of your lover. Hours had ticked by reasonably quickly, and soon enough, you heard the grandfather clock chime twelve times, indicating the strike of midnight. You pause to look over your final work and give a more than satisfied smile, grabbing the canvas sheet you had and covering the painting so Arno didn't see it (you also had to make sure he didn't peek; he seemed fond of doing that). Your hands had been stained with colors, and your apron had a few new splotches--you didn't mind, but you still hung up your apron carefully for washing and quickly scrubbed your hands clean.

With your hands a tad bit achy from the repeated holding of brushes, you stripped yourself of the painter's gown. You didn't even bother with a chemise or undergarments and instead grabbed one of Arno's button-up shirts that had a smear of purple paint. The mark was seemingly impossible to get out of the cotton, so he had unofficially gifted it to you, telling you that he'd wear it if you ever wanted to fling paint at him again. You grabbed one of the two pillows Arno claimed and tucked one between your thighs for comfort--the pillow usually replaced by his thigh. That, sadly, was the reality of being with an assassin; most nights, he wasn't around to fall asleep with. Thankfully, it seemed like you always woke up in his arms, your lover either sleeping soundly or admiring you.

You heard the chime of 12:30 on the grandfather clock before you shut your eyes for the night and fell asleep.

Awaking in the morning was a chore. The bed was so warm, cradling you like your mother did when you were a babe, and when you shuffled to get comfortable, an arm tightened around your waist. A knowing smirk cast onto your lips - Arno was back and pressed tightly to you. "Arno," you whisper, quiet enough so he could hear if he were awake. No response. Good, you hoped he was asleep - allowing you to get up and prepare your present for him.

So, carefully, to not wake him up, you moved Arno's arm from off of you and gingerly rolled out of bed, slowly standing up so as not to make the wood creak. Once your feet were planted on the cool floor, you stretched fully before walking away from the bed. Your easel still sat in the same position with the canvas sheet covering it; the oak stool pushed out to the side with a dirty jar of brushes resting on top of it. You noted that Arno had closed the windows and drawn the curtains, only slivers of sun peeking through. You first moved to open them just a tad so the chambers would be more illuminated--mainly so you wouldn't topple over something. Then, you moved over to your easel.

You took a deep breath and hoped that it looked okay after drying. Your hands gently took the cover off, and for the second time, you smiled proudly, hands clasped together. It wasn't alright; it was... almost perfect. Something was missing, and you couldn't put your finger on it. Then, it dinged in your brain. The drawing of us! You made your way back to the bed, but instead of getting in, you opened the dresser beside it and rummaged around until you found your trusted sketchbook. You flipped through it until you found the page already torn out and signed with a small love note. You paused, though, and your tummy did a flutter.

You forgot about this drawing. It was one of the first sexual ones you drew, a rather raunchy drawing of none other than Arno laid on his stomach, arms wrapped around a faceless woman's thighs and his face pressed to her cunt. This was still when you were too ashamed to draw yourself in these drawings - hence the faceless woman - but it made you fuzzy.

It wasn't like you and your boyfriend never had sex; quite the opposite. Many nights you had been spent on the bed, Arno deep inside you while some serious French kissing went on (not to mention the time when Arno's mentor had walked in on you deepthroating the brunette's cock in none other than the Assassin's base under Cafe Theatre, but you're too embarrassed to talk about it. You still get hot when you hear Bellec calling Arno 'pisspot'). While you've had amazing sex, you've never got the confidence to ask for oral. Arno offered it, but you said no; what if you taste bad or do something Arno doesn't like? The thought of a mouth down there always intimidated you, but that doesn't mean you haven't fantasized about it.

You were so caught up in staring at the drawing that you jumped when a loud crash came from outside, dropping the sketchbook onto the floor. "Merde," you almost immediately cussed, recoiling your foot from the damage of your toes being hit by the journal. It was enough to wake Arno up, and while you bent down to retrieve the book, he sat up and ran a hand through his hair. "Everything alright, cherie?" He said, and you were startled like you were caught doing something bad. "Oui, sorry to wake you." Arno gave you an understanding smile, sliding to the edge of the bed and leaning forward to find your waist. You tucked the sketchpad to your chest as he pulled you in for an embrace, his face resting between your shoulder blades.

"What were you drawing?" Arno muttered, and you tensed for a moment. "Sketches, love, it's nothing too important." You replied, and he hummed. "Everything is important when made by you." You didn't protest when his hand snaked from your hip up to your hands, his fingers grasping the edge of the book and pulling it free. His head moved back but still rested against you, and you heard him chuckle. Your face warmed, and for a moment, you willed the floor to open up and swallow you or for you to turn into a gnat and fly away.

"Is this woman you?" He asked, and you quietly said no. "Then you envision me eating another woman out?" You let out a defeated breath, shoulders slumping. "Non, it is me."

"But you did not draw your face?"

"It was awkward."

"Ah, then we should make it less awkward. Experiencing it may give you confidence."

Your head turns to peer at him from behind your shoulder. He has a cheeky grin that he knew he was doing - and you chewed your lips. "It's our anniversary, too. How will I marry you if I've never tasted you?" You blinked and chose to ignore the marriage comment, but as he pulled you into his lap, you knew you weren't getting out of this one too quickly. "I've heard from other women that it's relaxing if that quells your worry." One of his hands slides up your thigh and rests near the apex of your legs, thumb rubbing small circles into your flesh, and he kisses your cheek. You turn your body, legs swinging to rest on the bed and lean into Arno. He gives you a sweet look, brown eyes filled with what could only be described as love, and kisses your lips. He didn't get far once he pulled away; your hand brought him back in.

Your fingers undo the red ribbon, keeping Arno's hair tied while he bites your bottom lip teasingly. Once his hair was free and you could run your fingers through it, you allowed his tongue to slip past your lips and tangle with his. He tasted faintly of expensive red wine, and you drank the groan he let when your nails scratched his scalp. The hand resting on your thigh slid under the shirt you wore, warm fingertips running over your curves. Your noses bumped accidentally when you moved to tug on the buttons of his nightshirt, and neither of you went too far from the other. Your breaths still mingled as his hands aided yours in tugging his shirt off, the fabric falling onto the floor. Arno then moved both of you, so now you were lying against the pillows with your lover hovering above you. You exchange soft, loving smiles, eyes studying each other. Your hands ran down Arno's arms and rested against his wrists.

"Do you want to try oral?" He asked, genuinely curious, and you pondered. "Will you go slow?" You query, and you get your answer with the gentle, warming kiss Arno places against your forehead and then lips. His hands grab a pillow you are not resting on, and he says to lift your hips. You comply without question, and Arno slides the pillow under your butt, then moves your thighs apart so he can adequately slot himself in between them. The pillow gave a perfect angle for his hips to slot against yours, his semi-hard cock pressed into your inner thigh, and you could feel the wettening of your folds.

His lips find yours for a small kiss before he moves to your neck, sucking in a few light marks that can be hidden, and one of his hands trails down your body to your stomach, resting there patiently until you give the go-ahead. The attention placed on your pulse point made you let out a quiet whimper, and you circled your arms around Arno's shoulders so you could tug his body closer to yours. His bodily warmth was nothing short of what you called home, the south trail of his hand at your happy whisper of 'more,' the press of his thumb against your clit--it gave an almost sentimental feel.

There was loving, and then there was loving.

And he loved you like you loved him.

The way Arno loved you was nothing short of amazing? Spectacular? supercalifragilisticexpialidocious? There was no word for the way he treated you.

After slicking his fingers in your cunt, he pressed a final kiss to your lips before descending your body, leaving kisses every place he could reach. You shifted awkwardly once you two were positioned like the drawing--Arno on his stomach, his cheek pressed into your thigh, hands holding your legs apart. You did have to admit that it was an ego boost to see your lover between your legs with such a hungry look in his eyes. Arno pressed a kiss to where your thigh meets your leg, impossibly close to your cunt, and you felt his breath over your puffy clit. It caused you to shift your hips, a hand coming to rest on his, and Arno peeked up at you from his position.

Your insides became mush--there was absolutely no right for him to look heavenly, and you moaned as his index finger teased against your slit. "Do you want me to?" Arno asked, dipping his finger inside, teasingly curling in a way that he knew wouldn't feel terribly pleasurable. You debated--a new experience and most likely an intense orgasm, or you'll have to listen to your girlfriends rave about cunnilingus without knowing what to say next time you all met up. Most, if not all, your nerves of appearance had vanished and instead replaced by the anxious want of indulgence. Arno pushed his finger deeper, pulling back and repeating those actions slowly, awaiting your response.

"Mhm, oui. I'd like you to."

Arno smiled, and when he exhaled, you wiggled at the cool air against your warm cunt. "Merci," he hummed and leaned in, pressing his lips to your clit. Arno was gentle at first, careful not to overwhelm you. The rough pad of Arno's tongue pressed flat against your clit, and he let you move your hips, allowing you to draw your pleasure in what felt good. Once he thought that you had enough of a taste, his hands moved to your hips and pushed them down into the pillow. Your hands moved between Arno's resting ones or his head, moaning loudly when he sucked your clit with fervor. "Dieu," you exasperatedly said. Your thighs closed around Arno's head, not tight enough to hurt him but snug enough to keep him there, eyes closing when the tip of the pink muscle drew figure eights on your cunt. His finger slipped back in, this time pumping with a little more vigor, and when he curled them just right, that beautiful edge came into feel.

"S'il te plaît, oh mon Dieu, s'il te plaît," you whined and swore you could feel Arno smile into you. Your hips rocking against his face as well as your thighs clamped tight around his head, caused a slight burn from his stubble, but, shit, you couldn't care as long as he kept going. Arno's lips move up once again and slurp your clit, and "There, fuck! There, Arno, don't stop!" pours out from you. Another finger adds to your wet hole, and he gives a rough suckle just before you send hurdling over the crescendo of an orgasm. Arno lets you ride it out by grinding on his face, his nose bumping your clit in delicious aftershocks, and you eventually come down enough to release Arno's head from your thighs.

His head popped up from between your thighs, and he crawled up, bouncing down onto the bed beside you. One of Arno's hands rested on your stomach, and he asked, "How was it?" You gave a weak chuckle, "Le meilleur, fuck, the best."

"Another round?" He suggested.

"Always another round." You enforce.

Before Arno could move, you crawled on top of him and gently pushed your hips down so your saliva-and-slick-ridden cunt pressed perfectly against his hard cock. He gave that devilish smirk, hands finding your waist to push the nightshirt over your head, and you moaned as his hips met yours with equal enthusiasm. In more-or-less semi-clothed dance, you rocked against each other until Arno's hands slowed you, one going to slightly push you back just so he could free himself from his now wet undergarments. The fabric didn't get farther than his knees before you scooted back up and took him in your hand, running the head of his cock through your folds. After a few teasing passes, his tip catches your hole, and you slowly - yet easily - sink onto him. Once your lower half was pressed against his pelvis once more, Arno gave a few shallow thrusts and cupped one of your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh and playing with your nipple.

A few more seconds passed, and with a quick kiss to Arno's forehead, you tensed your thighs, hands pressing against his chest, and you began to set a steady rhythm of riding him. Your lover met your thrusts halfway with quick motions that effectively created a shlick shlick when either of you moved. The friction inside you felt good but just not enough to reach climax again, and Arno knowing this, moved his fingers to rub small circles against your clit. Arno cursed and rolled his head back onto the pillows. You watched his Adam’s apple bob with each thick swallow, and his thrusts became unsynced--a tale tail sign of impending orgasm.

With a few more messy thrusts, Arno pulled your hips flush to his and spilled deep inside of you. The warmth of his cum had made you unexpectedly orgasm, toes curling as you moaned. You stayed still and savored the moment, your spine failing to keep you upright, so you lay down on Arno's chest instead. Arno rolled over onto his side and took you with him, grabbing the closest blanket and covering you both up to keep from getting cold.

"Je t'aime," Arno whispers against your hair, and you softly hummed. "Je t'aime plus," you countered, but he won the battle with an "I love you the most."

"I peeked at the painting," he said after a peaceful silence, "I love it. You'll have to paint me nude next time."

#arno dorian x reader #Arno Dorian #Arno Dorian smut #assassins creed x reader #assassins creed smut #lynns posts

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killershrike · 16 days

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I knew I wanted to get Han-e’sain drawn in a canon yautja way as well, but oh my god,,, I couldn't be more happy with how AMAZING he turned out. I'm literally so breathless I've been staring at this for HOURS. I feel RABID. LOOK AT H I M

Presenting So-yin her first courting gift!!!!! He looks soooooo hot and sexy my GOD literally alien daddy alien daddy alien daddy

I really hope you guys like him too 🥹🥹🥹 this commission was masterfully created by @t0ffari on Instagram please go check them out and tell them how skilled they are!!!! 🤍🖤 and feel free to reblog if you'd like!!

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multifandomslxt · 8 months

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YAY!!!! I AM SOOO HAPPY YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN AHHHHHHJRIOWRIWIER LETS FUCKIN GOOOOOOOOOO

Okay so I was wondering if you could write up a lil sum about reserved reader who keeps to herself yet finds herself in a poly relationship with Haechan and Yangyang. She isn't a loner by any means. She has her solid group of friends but she doesn't really go out besides to work, the gym or grab lunch with her friends. She's just super introverted. I wonder what that dynamic would look like among the three of them. Maybe you could write about a specific scenario like them encouraging her to dress up and go out with them to the club i guess BUT THEN OMG WHEN SHE FINALLY AGREES they think she looks soooooo fine and shit in her short ass skirt or dress WHATEVER and they bend that ass OVA

FUN GAMES

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

A/N": I'm so sorry this took so long anon. I wanted it to be good and I was having writer's block. I hope you enjoy<333 SORRY FOR ANY TYPOS :)

Pairing: Yangyang x Haechan x afab!Reader

Warning: SMUT!, slapping, mentions of spit and C*m, daddy, degradation... That is all I can remember.

"Just wear it," YangYang, your boyfriend of three years, pleaded.

His face was red, and his hands moved about in understandable frustration as he had been trying to convince you to wear a short dress for the last 10 minutes or so.

"But it's-" you began to protest, finding another excuse as to why you didn't think it's a good idea.

"C'mon, doll, don't be like that," Haechan, your other boyfriend of three years, interrupted. He leaned against the doorway of your shared bedroom, looking as good as always in his black t-shirt, grey sweatpants, and glasses perched on his nose.

"We picked it out specifically for tonight. I know it's a bit outside of your comfort zone, but that's how you break out of your shell, baby," he said as he entered the room, slowly going behind you and embracing you in a back hug.

"We just want our baby to shine," Yang Yang joined, placing a kiss on your cheek.

You thought for a moment before giving in. "Fine."

Three hours later, you were ready.

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, giving yourself a once-over before heading downstairs to meet your boyfriends in the living room.

You got to the bottom of the stairs and saw both of their backs turned to you.

"I'm ready," you said timidly, already second-guessing your outfit choice.

Haechan was the first to turn around.

"Finally, I thought... fuck," he looked you up and down.

Yang Yang turned around and shared the same exclamation. "Fuck, baby."

"Let's go," you said in an attempt to cover up your shyness.

"I don't think we have to go anymore," Yang Yang said, his eyes never leaving you once.

"Doll, let's stay home. I guarantee you I won't make it 5 minutes in the car before I rip that dress off and fuck you raw," Haechan strained, now shamelessly palming his crotch.

"Funny, in my case, you wouldn't have even walked through the door," Yang Yang smirked.

"Come here," he beckoned to you.

You walked over to him, well aware of the mess being made between your legs.

"Do you want to go, or should we stay and have some fun?" he asked softly.

"It's your call, baby," Haechan finished.

You closed your eyes momentarily.

"I wanna stay."

You looked up at Yang Yang to see the hesitant grin.

A rip.

Another rip.

And another.

That's how you ended up standing in your living room before your boyfriends, dressed only in underwear.

"My pretty little slut," Yangyang teased, undoing his belt.

"Wanted to stay home to get your tight little hole fucked and filled, huh?" he gritted out.

His large hands grabbed you by the nape of your neck, pulling you into a heated kiss.

He bit your bottom lip and squeezed your neck a little harder, causing you to moan into the kiss.

You both pulled away from the kiss, leaving a string of spit connecting your lips.

Feeling a bit dizzy from the kiss and a bit overwhelmed by the dull ache between your legs, you let out a shaky breath.

Yang Yang's head was now buried in the crook of your neck as his fingers started to slowly trail down your abdomen, making their way to the heat pooling between your legs.

"I want to hear you," he whispered, his breath hitting your neck and somehow making you feel more heated than you already were.

Without further warning, he pulled your underwear to the side and started to play with your clit.

"A-ah Yang- wait," you whined, mindlessly grinding your hips desperate for more pleasure.

A sharp slap replaced the once-circular movement of his hand, causing you to jolt.

"I didn't tell you to fucking move. I just said I wanted to hear you," he gritted out.

"Yes, sir," you said, knowing just how rough he could get.

He was the soft one of the two of your boyfriends, but you knew exactly how harsh he could get when you guys were having sex.

"Good girl" he said as he inserted a finger, slowly fucking into you.

You knew he was delaying your orgasm for as long as he could.

You could feel the strength leaving your legs, causing them to buckle.

Yang Yang, in response, began to quicken the pace of his finger, causing you to be momentarily dizzy.

"Fuck! Oh God- I'm gonna cum, Yang!" you screamed out, feeling your orgasm fast approaching.

"You gonna cum on my fingers, slut?" Yang taunted, knowing that your jolts and shaky legs indicated that you were about to do exactly that.

"Ask me nicely," he taunted further. He always did this, and it always had that same pussy-clenching effect on you.

"Fucking beg me, and I just might let you," he held your gaze as his finger fucked into you.

Feeling your knees buckle and that familiar sinking feeling in your stomach, you put on your prettiest voice—your most submissive one—his favorite.

"Please, Daddy, please make me cum. I'll be good, I promise. P-please..." you cried out, tears already rolling down your cheeks.

"Atta girl," he snickered.

"Cum for me, pretty," and you did just that, the feeling so intense you lost consciousness of your surroundings for a bit.

Tuning back in, you heard Haechan's moans loud and oh so clear - as he jerked himself off to the sight of you and Yang Yang.

Yang Yang let you out of his grasp as he began to mirror Haechan's actions.

His grunts were softer and desperate, whereas Haechan's were animalistic and loud.

"Come here and suck this dick, baby," Haechan grunted out, his pretty fingers still wrapped around his shaft, glistening with precum.

You walked over to him and immediately dropped to your knees, opening your mouth widely.

Just the way he likes it.

"Remember to breathe through your nose, baby," is all he said before he took a handful of your hair and thrust his dick into your mouth.

You gagged as it hit the back of your throat.

He ruthlessly fucked your mouth, not caring that your eyes were watering or that spit bubbles and snot were covering his dick.

Eventually, he pulled his dick out of your mouth, and you gasped for air—throat raw and nipples so hard they stung.

You watched as he looked down at you, smiling menacingly before using his hand to spread your spit and his precum all over your face and giving you a harsh slap across your cheek when he was satisfied.

"Very good, doll," he praised before giving you a sloppy kiss.

"Now, stand up and spread your fucking legs."

Following his instructions, you stood up on shaky knees, well aware of what was about to happen.

"Yang, come play with her pussy," Haechan called out.

You felt Yang Yang behind you before he started to play with your clit.

"You know the rules, right, baby?" Yang Yang asked, already aware of what Haechan's intentions were.

"Y-yes, sir."

You had to stay in this position for as long as possible. If your legs went weak and you fell to your knees, they wouldn't make you cum

One fucked you from behind while the other ate you out...together.

It was a game the three of you played often.

You looked at Haechan and saw that he was already on his knees, looking up at you.

"Ready, doll?" he asked.

You squeezed your eyes shut. "Yes."

You felt Yang Yang first, his tip teasing you a bit before he thrust into you, stretching you out and causing you to scream.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered, his voice blissful before he bit into your shoulder.

A shiver ran down your spine.

You were going to lose.

Just when you started getting used to Yang Yang, you felt Haechan's tongue.

"Haechan," you whined out.

"Yes, baby?" he answered before he started to eat you out like he'd been starving, sucking on your clit and lapping up all of your juices so effortlessly.

You were going to lose.

"You're not screaming enough for me," Yang Yang whispered to you like a devil on your shoulder.

Soon, the sound of skins slapping together, along with the sound of sucking and slurps, filled the apartment.

Now, you were screaming.

So fucking loud.

You were definitely going to lose.

#nct 127 #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct dream #nct doyoung #nct yuta #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct taeyong #nct wayv #nct way v #wayv #way v #nct yangyang #nct haechan #nct haechan smut #nct yangyang smut

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